More than one thousand years ago, the wizard Halaster Blackcloak journeyed from a distant land to the base of Mount Waterdeep, perhaps acceding to the whispered summons of providence. Some believe he hailed from the nearly forgotten empire known as the Cradlelands. In ages past, humanity spread from the Cradlelands across Faerûn, originating from what is now the Plains of Purple Dust, a wasteland birthed out of a conflict with the gods. Others give Halaster less ancient origins, placing him among the early wizards of Netheril, or asserting that he came from a southern nation long since buried by sand and time. Whatever his origin, scholars have recorded that Halaster brought with him seven apprentices to Mount Waterdeep.
With the Seven guarding his back, Halaster tapped into his immense power to summon beings from other planes of existence to help him build a wizard’s tower to dwarf all other wizard’s towers. But as the seasons wore on, the Seven saw less and less of their enigmatic master. Halaster continued to use fell creatures from distant planes for tunneling and other construction beneath his tower, and the wizard kept the nature of most of his underground dealings a secret from the Seven. Eventually, Halaster’s exploration broke into the Underhalls, a complex of tunnels and rooms built by the dwarves around a mithral mine beneath Mount Waterdeep. The architects of the Underhalls, the Melairkyn clan, had long ago been killed or dispersed, and warring duergar and drow had settled in the ruins. Halaster began a crusade against both the drow and the duergar, participating in wild hunts with extraplanar allies through the tunnels. The stubborn duergar dug in until the mithral was largely mined out; then they abandoned the Underhalls, leaving the drow to fight Halaster and his minions alone. The Mad Mage rounded up the remaining dark elves, trapping some of their souls for use in his dark magic, while twisting the bodies and enslaving the minds of others. Once he had wrung the drow of their usefulness, Halaster Blackcloak tunneled on, ever downward, indulging his inexplicable compulsion for delving deeper and deeper into the mountain.
Using his underground complex as a base of operations, Halaster traveled to other planes and distant lands, collecting strange and dangerous creatures to live as prisoners, servants, or guardians in Undermountain. Populating and defending the dungeon became an obsession. Over time, the mage’s preoccupation with Undermountain electrified his eccentricities and infused him with an air of unconcealable madness.
Halaster’s apprentices came and went. Some left only to return — inexplicably drawn down into Undermountain’s depths. Others remained by his side. As they began dedicating more attention to their private obsessions, madness settled into their souls as well.
During the years Halaster quested on other planes and sequestered himself in his tunnels, his magnificent tower and its surrounding walls fell into ruin. In time, the city now known as Waterdeep developed in the shadow of Mount Waterdeep and spread down to the harbor. As the city sprawled outward over the years, it came to surround the ruins of Halaster’s home. Undermountain was known to those early settlers, and they often sent criminals into its endless depths as punishment. So it was for many years, until an intrepid adventurer named Durnan delved into the labyrinth beneath the tower and returned alive, laden with riches and countless harrowing tales. Durnan used his new fortune to demolish the remnants of Halaster’s tower and built an inn over the well he had used to descend into Undermountain, and call it the Yawning Portal. Durnan owns and operates the inn and tavern to this day, serving patrons and inviting the brave and foolish alike to test their mettle in the Dungeon of the Mad Mage.
It’s a rainy wet evening in Waterdeep. Like most adventurous folk you’ve been drawn in by the reasonable prices and decent booze provided by the Yawning Portal Tavern. Durnan is in his usual spot regaling clients new and old with embellished yarns of his adventuring career leading to the creation of the drinking hole you currently find yourself in. Threestrings the bard is playing in a corner, providing a pleasant musical backdrop to the hubbub of the patrons. Volothamp Gedarm , Volo to his friends, can be heard nattering away lauding the merits of yet another book he has had published. A young noblewoman, Esvele Rosznar has been frequenting the Yawning Portal on busy evenings, keeping mostly to herself while sipping zzar and listening to gossip.
You’ve had several of your preferred ales and are starting to get a pleasant buzz on. The mood is spoiled somewhat when Threestrings stops playing and Durnan announces that the weekly raffle is about to begin. “Awww Bollocks!” Sig, a monstrously strong half orc cleric, shouts “That’s today?! I knew there was a reason I was supposed to avoid the pub!”
the other clientele laugh and shush him. Durnan calms everyone down. “Now now! Time for everyone to finish their pints and flip their tankards. 5 of you have red painted bottoms. You lucky five have earned a free trip to the Undermountain! Now bottoms up!”
Everyone chugs their drink and spins their tankards. You each notice that yours have red bottoms. “BOLLOCKS!!!!!!!” Looking over you see Sig has a red bottomed tankard as well
A bespectacled Goliath with clay brown skin wipes the drops of ale from his overturned tankard with a handkerchief and approaches Durnan at the bar.
Good evening yet again my friend. It would seem the last few weeks have paid off and the wheel of fortune has finally seen fit to grace me with one of your coveted crimson bottoms. I know I've bent your ear many times about the Undermountain, so it will come as no surprise I am keen to get delving!
“ Why so disheartened my half orc friend !!? We’ve been chosen by Lady Luck herself wouldn’t you agree ?!” Showing Sig the bottom of his own tankard and laughing. “ What about our predicaments brought out your rage ?!!”
Leowin looks at the bottom of his tankard quizzically before shrugging, standing and putting it back on the table. He turns to Durnan and smiles dangerously.
"Hey. I just came in for a drink. Who's gonna make me?"
Sig looks down at the laughing monk. "I had a date tomorrow, now I'm gonna miss it hence my blueballed rage"
Durnan turns to Leowin "Why my friend it was a condition of entry into the pub, now that you've won you get to descend with your fellow winners into the most prestigious dungeon in all Faerun, for free i might add. There are more than likely a few persons here who will offer you payment if you deliver or retrieve something for them from the Undermountain. As a winner of the raffle I wont be charging you a gold coin each to descend or ascend out of the dungeon for your first trip. Thats a big saving for you and means a bigger profit margin, but hey if you would rather stay up here....." Durnan turns away from Leowin and serves a beer to another punter
At the bar Volo turns to the Goliath. "Congratulations on the win my friend. I hear you're something of a history buff! Well in that case I have a chance for money and the recovery of a forgotten historical relic if you are so interested?"
A dusky skinned Chultan female apporaches Leowin, "Hello good sir, my name is Obaya Uday, I am a Priestess of Waukeen (Trade God) and I hav esecured funds from the Waterdhavian Bank to purchase any magical items you secure below and are able to return to me. Depending on the rarity of the item or any spellbooks you recover will depend on what I pay you. These prices are non negotiable but they are fair. They will start with 10 Platinum pieces for any common item and ascend from there dependant upon the item. I have credit for 7500 Platinum so the money is good if you want to earn it."
Threestrings laughs as he listens to Carilius grumble. Look it’s not all bad. How about you do me a solid and drop a bag of coins off in Skullport for me? It’s only a couple of levels down and my doing so it’ll mean you get free lodging when you get down there? Pay the coin to Cal’al, the drow proprietor of the Flagon and Dragon pub?
More than one thousand years ago, the wizard Halaster Blackcloak journeyed from a distant land to the base of Mount Waterdeep, perhaps acceding to the whispered summons of providence. Some believe he hailed from the nearly forgotten empire known as the Cradlelands. In ages past, humanity spread from the Cradlelands across Faerûn, originating from what is now the Plains of Purple Dust, a wasteland birthed out of a conflict with the gods. Others give Halaster less ancient origins, placing him among the early wizards of Netheril, or asserting that he came from a southern nation long since buried by sand and time. Whatever his origin, scholars have recorded that Halaster brought with him seven apprentices to Mount Waterdeep.
With the Seven guarding his back, Halaster tapped into his immense power to summon beings from other planes of existence to help him build a wizard’s tower to dwarf all other wizard’s towers. But as the seasons wore on, the Seven saw less and less of their enigmatic master. Halaster continued to use fell creatures from distant planes for tunneling and other construction beneath his tower, and the wizard kept the nature of most of his underground dealings a secret from the Seven. Eventually, Halaster’s exploration broke into the Underhalls, a complex of tunnels and rooms built by the dwarves around a mithral mine beneath Mount Waterdeep. The architects of the Underhalls, the Melairkyn clan, had long ago been killed or dispersed, and warring duergar and drow had settled in the ruins. Halaster began a crusade against both the drow and the duergar, participating in wild hunts with extraplanar allies through the tunnels. The stubborn duergar dug in until the mithral was largely mined out; then they abandoned the Underhalls, leaving the drow to fight Halaster and his minions alone. The Mad Mage rounded up the remaining dark elves, trapping some of their souls for use in his dark magic, while twisting the bodies and enslaving the minds of others. Once he had wrung the drow of their usefulness, Halaster Blackcloak tunneled on, ever downward, indulging his inexplicable compulsion for delving deeper and deeper into the mountain.
Using his underground complex as a base of operations, Halaster traveled to other planes and distant lands, collecting strange and dangerous creatures to live as prisoners, servants, or guardians in Undermountain. Populating and defending the dungeon became an obsession. Over time, the mage’s preoccupation with Undermountain electrified his eccentricities and infused him with an air of unconcealable madness.
Halaster’s apprentices came and went. Some left only to return — inexplicably drawn down into Undermountain’s depths. Others remained by his side. As they began dedicating more attention to their private obsessions, madness settled into their souls as well.
During the years Halaster quested on other planes and sequestered himself in his tunnels, his magnificent tower and its surrounding walls fell into ruin. In time, the city now known as Waterdeep developed in the shadow of Mount Waterdeep and spread down to the harbor. As the city sprawled outward over the years, it came to surround the ruins of Halaster’s home. Undermountain was known to those early settlers, and they often sent criminals into its endless depths as punishment. So it was for many years, until an intrepid adventurer named Durnan delved into the labyrinth beneath the tower and returned alive, laden with riches and countless harrowing tales. Durnan used his new fortune to demolish the remnants of Halaster’s tower and built an inn over the well he had used to descend into Undermountain, and call it the Yawning Portal. Durnan owns and operates the inn and tavern to this day, serving patrons and inviting the brave and foolish alike to test their mettle in the Dungeon of the Mad Mage.
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It’s a rainy wet evening in Waterdeep. Like most adventurous folk you’ve been drawn in by the reasonable prices and decent booze provided by the Yawning Portal Tavern. Durnan is in his usual spot regaling clients new and old with embellished yarns of his adventuring career leading to the creation of the drinking hole you currently find yourself in.
Threestrings the bard is playing in a corner, providing a pleasant musical backdrop to the hubbub of the patrons.
Volothamp Gedarm , Volo to his friends, can be heard nattering away lauding the merits of yet another book he has had published.
A young noblewoman, Esvele Rosznar has been frequenting the Yawning Portal on busy evenings, keeping mostly to herself while sipping zzar and listening to gossip.
You’ve had several of your preferred ales and are starting to get a pleasant buzz on. The mood is spoiled somewhat when Threestrings stops playing and Durnan announces that the weekly raffle is about to begin.
“Awww Bollocks!” Sig, a monstrously strong half orc cleric, shouts “That’s today?! I knew there was a reason I was supposed to avoid the pub!”
the other clientele laugh and shush him. Durnan calms everyone down. “Now now! Time for everyone to finish their pints and flip their tankards. 5 of you have red painted bottoms. You lucky five have earned a free trip to the Undermountain! Now bottoms up!”
Everyone chugs their drink and spins their tankards. You each notice that yours have red bottoms. “BOLLOCKS!!!!!!!” Looking over you see Sig has a red bottomed tankard as well
A bespectacled Goliath with clay brown skin wipes the drops of ale from his overturned tankard with a handkerchief and approaches Durnan at the bar.
Good evening yet again my friend. It would seem the last few weeks have paid off and the wheel of fortune has finally seen fit to grace me with one of your coveted crimson bottoms. I know I've bent your ear many times about the Undermountain, so it will come as no surprise I am keen to get delving!
“ Why so disheartened my half orc friend !!? We’ve been chosen by Lady Luck herself wouldn’t you agree ?!” Showing Sig the bottom of his own tankard and laughing. “ What about our predicaments brought out your rage ?!!”
Leowin looks at the bottom of his tankard quizzically before shrugging, standing and putting it back on the table. He turns to Durnan and smiles dangerously.
"Hey. I just came in for a drink. Who's gonna make me?"
Sig looks down at the laughing monk. "I had a date tomorrow, now I'm gonna miss it hence my blueballed rage"
Durnan turns to Leowin "Why my friend it was a condition of entry into the pub, now that you've won you get to descend with your fellow winners into the most prestigious dungeon in all Faerun, for free i might add. There are more than likely a few persons here who will offer you payment if you deliver or retrieve something for them from the Undermountain. As a winner of the raffle I wont be charging you a gold coin each to descend or ascend out of the dungeon for your first trip. Thats a big saving for you and means a bigger profit margin, but hey if you would rather stay up here....." Durnan turns away from Leowin and serves a beer to another punter
At the bar Volo turns to the Goliath. "Congratulations on the win my friend. I hear you're something of a history buff! Well in that case I have a chance for money and the recovery of a forgotten historical relic if you are so interested?"
Leowin nods and turns to the patrons of the bar.
"Anyone interested in some stuff from down there? A little gold goes a long way..."
A dusky skinned Chultan female apporaches Leowin, "Hello good sir, my name is Obaya Uday, I am a Priestess of Waukeen (Trade God) and I hav esecured funds from the Waterdhavian Bank to purchase any magical items you secure below and are able to return to me. Depending on the rarity of the item or any spellbooks you recover will depend on what I pay you. These prices are non negotiable but they are fair. They will start with 10 Platinum pieces for any common item and ascend from there dependant upon the item. I have credit for 7500 Platinum so the money is good if you want to earn it."
Leowin is unable to stop his eyes widening slightly but quickly regains his composure.
"Platinum. Ok. I like that too. Deal. Where can I find you when I come back?"
I am residing here at the Portal so I’ll be available when you return
Well balls, that’s the last time a swipe a free drink, don’t suppose it’s too late to give it back is it?
Threestrings laughs as he listens to Carilius grumble. Look it’s not all bad. How about you do me a solid and drop a bag of coins off in Skullport for me? It’s only a couple of levels down and my doing so it’ll mean you get free lodging when you get down there? Pay the coin to Cal’al, the drow proprietor of the Flagon and Dragon pub?
History check to see if any of Volo's works known to me.
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