The Yawning Portal is raucous as usual; adventurers telling of their exploits, some more drunkenly than others. Durnan is taking orders and serving up Shadowdark ale and his famous quippers. The merry sounds of music and laughter carry out onto the streets. It's a scene you're all too familiar with, as you arrive yet again to meet some fellow adventurers. Soon enough you'll find the ones that will lead you to fame and fortune. For now, how about a drink?

Auric Invictus:

The Dragonborn warrior strides confidently into the Yawning Portal, his chain armor rattling slightly with his broad strides.  Over at the bar, he orders his usual beverage, a frosty cold frothing stout ale, then goes to a table with a clear view of the central pit on the main floor and sits facing the vast orifice, waiting for his companions to follow suit.  Taking a deep draw on his drink, Auric waits for the others to get settled and asks, "So, what news of the city today?  Are you prepared this is the night we brave the terrors below?"

The heavily-muscled figure of Valen was already seated at the table when his dragonborn companion arrived.  He had picked a table that had it's back to a wall, and was seated with his own back to that wall.  His glaive leaned against the wall there,, within easy reach.  His eyes, a storm-gray in color, constantly jerked to the door every time it opened, which you would have all gotten use to by this point. He took a long pull from his own ale as he nods to the dragonborn on his arrival.  "Makes no difference to me if we go today or in ten tendays."  Valen says with a shrug.  He tenses then, as the door to the street opens again, hand nearly reaching for his glaive, but then relaxes as yet another of their companions comes in off of the street.

Adjusting his his chair, the chain mail he wears clilnking, he takes another pull from his mug.  He has on sailor's garb under the chain, and his skin is deeply tanned from his time aboard ship, the tan not having faded with his weeks of shore time yet.  Around his neck hangs the symbol of Kord, Lord of Storms, a shield with lightning shooting out of it.

Arriving at the Yawnning Portal, Rayner looks for the companions he is to meet for some ale and laughs.

"Where is my ale, my good friends? I have a mighty need to get inebriated!!"

Wearing his old mercenary clothes with a chain mail on top,company logo missing, and a longsword on the hip, and a glaive on his back.

Brown, straight hair slightly reveals a full, charming face. Heavy green eyes, set appealingly within their sockets, watch warmly over the city they've fought for for so long. A blade left a mark stretching from the right side of the forehead , and anouther running towards his fairly big lips and ending on his right cheek leaves a gracious memory of former lives.

A figure peeks out from the tavern's second floor balcony and rushes downstairs: Mal'thrae Caerdonnel, a slim half-drow wearing a dark vest and white shirt. He goes to the bar and gets an ale before waving to you and walking over, leaning his chair back slightly. He flips through a notebook as he reclines.

"How are you three this fine day?" Malthrae says with a grin.

Valen shifts in his seat as the newest member of the small group arrives at the table. He gives Rayner a nod of greeting. With a thrust of his chin he indicates the bar for Rayner to go get himself a drink. His gray eyes then scan the room, looking for anything out of place or someone paying too much attention to them. He seems edgy, but that is normal for him, something you would have gotten use to by now.

Rayner goes for the bar. He says to Durnan:
"Durnan, please a round of ale for me and my companions."

The half-orc Urukar stoops as he enters the Yawning Portal, eyeing the patrons, and the place in general, with barely-concealed contempt.  He foregoes a drink, instead spotting the group he had talked with previously.  He approaches their table, and takes a seat, nodding to all with a grunt.  "If the door opening makes you reach for your weapon, human, you should kill whatever you are waiting for.  Orcs sleep well when they know their enemies' heads rest on pikes outside their tent."

Auric:

”I am well,” Auric answers the slim half-elf arriving, bringing more ale, as is always welcome.  “Yet I grow restless here.  I have been in the city for three tendays—yes, there have been plenty of splendors—but I have seen precious little opportunity for heroic adventure.”

"If I could get them to fight me one-on-one I'd do it."  Valen says with a nod of agreement.  "They are too crafty for that though..."  He takes another draw from his ale, as his eyes move back to the door again.

"Well, guess we're both in the same boat, Auric." Mal'thrae sighs. "It'll come eventually. Hopefully not in the form of the city watch on my doorstep for the twentieth time."

Urukar grimaces and spits on the floor beside him on hearing the word ‘splendors’.  “This place is a cesspit, full of weak people and their petty grievances.  My clan’s home in the Spine of the World is a place of true splendor.”

The sturdy wooden table you sit at is lit by a brightly burning candle and littered with plates cleared of food and half-drained tankards. The sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables over.

Then all the noise is eclipsed by a shout: “Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?” Then a seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl. What do you do?

Rayner at the bar,  to Durnan:

"One moment, want me to take care of that?"

OCC:What are those eye-shaped tattoos?

At the sound of the brawl starting Valen glances over, but then picks up his ale and takes another drink.  He looks back towards the door, taking in someone who just came in, but who leaves at the sight of the fight that has just begun.

(History check for the tattoos)

Durnan shakes his head disgustedly. "Oi! Take it outside, outside I say!" He looks at Rayner, sizing him up. "Free mugga ale if yeh kick 'em out."

History:15

"How you know me, Durnan!"

I crack my knukles, and make my way to the crowd.

"Get out of the way you rowdy bunch!"

Glancing over at Rayner's voice, Valen frowns, seeing his companion moving towards the circle around the fighters.  "Best be on your toes..."  He informs the others around the table.  He nods to where Rayner is pushing his way towards the brawlers.  "Looks like Rayner's going to make this our problem."

Rayner, and anyone else wanting to jump in, roll initiative.

“Guess we’re helping, then.” Mal’thrae jumps up from his seat and runs to assist Rayner. ”No sense letting him steal all the fun!”

Mal’thrae Initiative: 8