In the Castle Ward Waterdeep there is a famous inn and tavern known as the Yawning Portal Inn. Most adventurers come here looking for a job, or to explore the Undermountain. Others come for the colorful company and drink. From the outside the place is just a huge stone building with a slate roof and several chimneys. On the inside the Inn contains many comfortable rooms for guests. The ground floor has a massive tavern and common room. And in the middle of the common room is a 40ft well that leads to a massive dungeon system underneath.

All of you have come to this Inn for one reason or another. You all find seats at sturdy wooden tables lit by brightly burning candles. The sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard a few 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?

Yoh had arrived to the Yawning Portal not too long ago. He had managed to make inside of the city without incident, his strange appearance hardly garnering the attention of the guards or denizens. Then again, Yoh only had to spend a few seconds looking around this very tavern to see that he was not the strangest looking person in the city. Perhaps Waterdeep was just accustomed to odd folks coming in. Quietly the person sat at the bar near some other patrons. He knew it was customary to order a drink, however as Yoh was not thirsty, he simply sat there and watched the people around him. Just as Yoh thought this place was strange, he noticed a familiar face: Jalester Silvermane. Yoh wasn't personally close to the man, however the old gang that Yoh ran with new the man well enough, and by extension Yoh knew him. Immediately Yoh stood up and walked over to the human.

"Jalester. Hello." Yoh sat down near him. Not too far away, a brawl had started, but Yoh didn't care to be involved in that conflict. As far as Yoh was concerned it was just drunks rough housing, nothing serious enough to require his intervention. "It has been some time since we've last met. How are things in the city?"

Baldrick sat at a small table in the inn. He had tried to find a quiet corner to rest in, only to realize that there was no such place here. The inn was just like the rest of the city, crowded and noisy. He sighed as he tried to recall what had made him come into the Yawning Portal in the first place. When he first arrived in Waterdeep he had no idea what he must do here, but surely there was a reason. There always was.

Before he had even realized it, he found himself outside of this establishment. He must have been drawn here, just as he had been drawn to the city itself. Now though, he was beginning to question himself. Was this truly where he belonged right now?

The sound of fight drew his attention. Some of the patrons seemed to be having an argument that was quickly escalating. He hesitated, was this something to involve himself in? He disliked senseless violence, but an old friend had mentioned that brawls such as this happened from time to time.

As he looked on at the confrontation, he realized that the same friend who had told him about these brawls, Yagra Stonefist, was currently at the center of the argument. Well that made his decision easier at least. He stood up from his table and moved behind Yagra, holding up a hand.

"I don't know what the trouble is, but perhaps we can solve this peacefully."

Truthfully speaking, right as soon as a chair nearly slammed into my newest face I should have known to book it out of there. After all, what sort of job was this, meeting someone I knew nothing about, for a meeting I knew nothing about, with an employer I barely knew anything about? Well, Pa- Drain probably knew better who truly was a prodigal mage or not, but one thing was for certain, she certainly paid like one (even if the advance payment was pretty small). Nonetheless, even if every bone of my body wanted to get out of here before someone broke me in two, I had taken the job, and I was going to do it proper. After all, the very reason why I was hired in the first place, was so the client didn't have to come in person.

Of course, as an exploding glass shard flew near me as I attempted to take a seat, coming dangerously close to knocking over a candle, I thought, just for a moment, that maybe going to the middle of the tavern (the second floor) would still be a pretty good place to catch the sight of the person I was supposed to meet? My outfit was distinct enough, fingerless longgloves, partially unbuttoned leather vest, long dark pants and not one but two belts, one holding sacks and the other being over my belly with no particular purpose except checking for weight gain. These were clothes given to me by the client, as was the green pendant hanging from my neck, surely the most conspicuous item, the one that would indicate to the person I was meeting who I was supposed to be (even if I really wasn't).

"No." I shook my head. I was told to meet them on the first floor, this Obaya Uday. Yet, the sound of falling utensils and breaking wood and glass continued behind me, of cheers and whispers of bets, and grumbles of a fight. I ran towards an empty table near a wall, untying the lace of my smaller backpack. Moments before reaching the table, my hand found that soft, tender, familiar texture that it shuffled for, and I gripped it with my eyes closed. "Please. Prestidigitation."

I pointed a finger at the candle on top of the empty table. The flame within waved one final time before being snuffed out by an invisible force. I smiled to myself, and quick placed myself under the table, putting what furniture I could (possibly the table itself) in front of me as a shield against any further projectiles.

"Thank you." I whispered into the bag.

Atone had been standing in the corner as isolated as he could possibly be in such a crowded place as he maintained a quiet vigil over the establishment. He spoke to no one, but he watched everyone. As soon as the fight broke out he was quick to respond. A bald-headed and tattooed man had decided to pick a fight with a half-orc. A foolish decision on his part, really. The half-orc would no doubt be able to fend for herself, but the man was not alone and such violence inside the tavern would not be tolerated.

Atone forced his way through the crowd that had gathered around the brawl until he made inside of the circle they had formed around the combatants. Standing straight and tall and taking a deep breathe, Atone used thaumaturgy to amplify his voice to the point where he could be heard even over spectators who had gathered.

"That's enough," he roared. "Such behavior will not be tolerated."

He turned to the bald man that had started the fight.

"You were the instigator. You will leave the tavern at once for disturbing the peace."

I shivered as I heard that voice greeting me, and the slow methodical footsteps of those furry feet...paws? Inside my leather shoes away from sight, I reshaped my feet into something akin to what I was looking at (but smaller so that it would properly fit in the shoes of course). I moved the toes a bit, curling and straightening them a couple of times, before returning my feet to a form matching the form I was wearing. Yeah, those were definitely paws.

"Eeeeep!" I squealed. Feline irises stared back at me from the other side of the chairs. In a moment of distraction that intimidating face had materialized in front of me, gazing over me like a cat examining whether it has a chance of catching a bird. The thing about cats, though, is that whether or not they have a chance, they might try to pounce anyway. I slowly raised a hand to my face's height (which right now was about as high as my knees) and forced a smile. "Hello..."

By the gods, he was so close I could practically count his fur! Albeit there was no glow from any candles over my table, the surrounding light only made for a greater, creepier, contrast, the partially offuscated figure bent over in front of me, and tiny flickers of reflected light occasionally blinking from a hidden blade. If he had those, how many more did he have? Could it be I was about to be robbed before getting a chance to meet the person I was told to? The scene of me attempting to explain myself to the client, the shame, the yelling, filled my head, and I clutched the backpack from earlier with renewed determination. Of that one, at least, I wouldn't be parted.

However, to my surprise, he turned out to be a gentleman...even if a bit of a skeevy one. His words were kind and refined, like a pompous noble but more natural. Now if only his lingering of his gaze upon my chest was not so evident...

"Well, you see, even if it's common I would prefer not to get overly involved, nor be caught in the crossfire, or any other kind of fire for that matter. Just moments ago, there was stuff flying everywhere, and it doesn't look like it is stopping anyti-"

"That's enough!"

The sudden bombardment of sound ringed in my ears, and I instinctively curled up, pulling my backpack even closer to me. Whatever it was, it caught the Tabaxxi's attention enough to turn them away from me. The voice continued, insisting that the perpetrators leave the tavern. Was it some kind of guard? On fall fours (because I was under a table) I tried moving a bit so my vision wouldn't be obstructed by such hairy legs. I simply couldn't resist the urge to try to see who this loud newcomer was.

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Interacting With: @Exit
Mentions: @skwint
Might Also Want to Read: N/A

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Jalestar stared listlessly at the crowds forming, one hand holding his head and the other messing with the empty pint glass in front of him. The brawl barely phased the young man neither did the warforged that came near. “Taken at such a young age, and left me here...all alone,” He mumbled to himself, thoughts that were probably not supposed to be spoken. The man snapped out of his thoughts when he finally processed that the warforged had said something to him.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry. Yes, the city. There’s been some talk of Xanathar’s Guild and the Zhentarim being in a massive fight lately. But, given that they are two large seedy networks, I doubt that comes as a surprise to most. Could cause some issues though, like causing a raucous in an already rowdy bar.”

Jalestar gestured to the half-orc and five humans as if they should have heard him and took note of his complaint. He turned back to Yoh and shrugged, “Other than that. The city’s pretty much the same.”

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By the time Baldrick had gotten into the cleared area of the brawl, Yagra was already on top of the bald, tattooed man. The man was looking close to unconsciousness and trying to claw his way out from under the half-orc. The four men with the tattooed man all looked ready to pounce the woman. Baldrick’s comments fell on deaf ears.

The four men sprang to action, only to be stopped by yet another getting into the middle of the fight. The thunderous voice was much harder to ignore and the look of the creature was much more intimidating. Instead of staying to fight, the four grabbed onto their leader and yanked him free. All rushed out the door without another word.

The half-orc stood dusting herself off, and turned to Atone, “Thanks, but I could have handled that myself.”

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Meloon’s attention was drawn back to the woman across from him once the fighting had been settled. He gave a friendly smile, “The Yawning Portal can be quite a rowdy place, you’re right. Most people here are adventurers after all. A lot of them are even here to go down that, well.”

Meloon waved a hand over to the well in the center of the tavern. “That’s how many people get into the Undermountain. Unfortunately, not many people make it back out. I’ve been down there, and I was the only member of my party to survive.”

“Not to worry though, there’s plenty of advenuring that can be done without going into the Undermountain." The man realized that his words may have sounded discouraging and quickly put his focus back on her rather than the well. "You know, not many people ask about how to become an adventurer. They just sort of seek it out. Like those that go into that well. They heard the rumors about the Undermountain and came here to give it a try. I’m sure there’s plenty of people around that could use some help in Waterdeep, why not start there?”

"Then you many consider my actions for their benefit if it suits you,", Atone said to Yagra. "The gods frown upon senseless bloodshed all the same, and his actions were uncalled for."

Atone looked around at the crowd. With the fight over they would surely all disperse and business as usual would resume once more within the tavern. He also couldn't help but frown slightly. As intimidating as the half-orc was, those men had seemed more afraid of Atone. Whether it was due to his being a paladin or his devilish bloodline was unclear, but he couldn't help but think it was the latter. Such was his fate for the curse he bore.

Baldrick breathed a sigh of relief as the men dispersed. He was glad to see that things had ended before they had gotten too bloody. Yagra seemed no worse for wear at least, and only one of the men who started the fight was injured. "Thank you," Baldrick said inclining his head to the man who broke up the fight. He was not quite sure what the man was, although that was not too surprising. Waterdeep was full of sights he had never seem before, including the people. Still he did not want to stare and risk offending the fellow, so he turned his attention elsewhere. "I was worried that fight might escalate, although I'm sure you could have handled it Yagra."

As he turned to face the half-orc, a thought struck him. Perhaps she was the reason he had felt drawn to this place. "Yagra, perhaps it is fate that I ran into today. Have you heard of anything unusual as of late? I have never been called to a city before, and I am unsure of what sort of trouble I am to resolve."

Yoh quietly listened to Jalester, though he didn’t really offer much info. Yoh vaguely knew both Zhentarim and Xanathar, the Zhents being a shady but largely legal organization. As in, you can openly be zhentarim and most wont be too worked up about it. Xanathar however, Yoh never met or heard anything particularly positive about them. Another criminal gang but they’re lead by a beholder. Perhaps their conflict could provide some opportunity for work.

Than would you happen to know where I might find some work to be done? For you, perhaps? It certainly seems like you’ve something weighing on your mind.”

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The woman looked up at Leanna. There was a flash of hopefulness on her face which turned right into disappointment. She looked over at the door again. "I'm sorry, I'm saving that chair. I'm waiting for a friend." Her voice was steady and her tone was much like a mother waiting on her child who was incredibly late for dinner.

Obaya stood for a moment to look around the large tavern. Her gaze sharp and careful, "I believe I see a few tables in that back corner that are free." She pointed out some tables next to a humaniod machine and sad looking man. "It also looks like there are some seats at the bar. Durnan is a nice man, and would be happy to keep you company. He just looks grumpy."

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"No, I..." Jalestar leaned back in his chair, "I'm just thinking about my boyfriend. Faerrel passed away last year. It's been rough and things are a little complicated right now." He gave a weak, sad laugh, before grabbing his drink and finishing the rest of it off. "But I'm sure you're not here for any of that nonsense. I could probably pull something together for you. The Lords Alliance is always looking for people to help out. And with the talk of Xanathar's Guild and the Zhents going at it, I'm sure the City Watch could use a hand keeping everyone in line."

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"You are in the wrong tavern if you think the gods are doing anything but frowning at this place, pal," Yagra grimaced at Atone. She looked over at Baldrick with the same grimace. "You're in a city, Baldrick. There's danger everything is unusual and there's danger everywhere."

The crowd had looked like it had started to disperse from around the three, until a shout of alarm rang out. That shout brought attention to the open floor of the tavern, where the well to the Undermountain was. There were more shouts of alarm as a hulking creature climbed up out of the shaft in the middle of the taproom--a monster with warty green skin, a tangled nest of wiry black hair, a long, carrot-shaped nose, and bloodshot eyes. As it bared its yellow teeth and howled, you can see that a half-dozen bat-like creatures are attached to its body, with three more circling above it like flies. Everyone in the tavern reacted in fear except for the barkeep, Durnan, who shouted, "Troll!"

Yagra is quick to get out of the way and push the crowd to cover under tables as she scanned the room for someone. Durnan draws a great sword from under the bar and jumps over, ready for a fight.





Everyone needs to roll initiative this round of replies.

Atone frowned at Yagra's response, but before he could utter a response an alarm was raised. The patrons fled or hid for their lives as a troll emerged from the depths with an entourage of wing creatures. Atone rushed towards the troll with sword and shield in hand. He needed to get its attention before it harmed any innocent bystanders.

"Ah. You have my sympathies." Though in truth, Yoh couldn't really understand the lost of love. He's never felt the inclination to be romantic with anyone, and his career when he first awakened had made him familiar with the idea of people he knows dying often. But he had enough tact not to speak out about how Jalester needs to move on with his life, as death was a natural part of it, since the last time he tried that a very angry widow refused to cooperate with his team and they were forced to hunt down a mark without vital intel. Fortunately it seems like Jalester could get some work for Yoh, but before he could elaborate a troll appeared from the Yawning Portal. An alarm warned everyone beforehand of it's arrival as the green giant lumbered out from the abyss, accompanied by literal bloodsuckers.

"Jalester, find safety." Yoh stood up and brandished his spear. He wasn't sure of his odds against the troll, so he would do what he can to pick off the smaller flying creatures instead. Once they were dealt with no doubt the tavern's muscle could take out the troll. "It is time to hunt."

The fire? What fire? There was a fire now?! I looked in every direction I could, searching for any signs of a flame that I may have missed, especially double-checking that the source was definitely not the candle that I had snuffed out earlier, or so I had thought I did, if I was wrong. The continuation of what the Tabaxi was saying, however, clarified the context. It was more of a metaphor, you see. For the madness that was this place. I breathed a sigh of relief, and a flashed a somewhat smug grin for a moment, proud of having figured it out.

What I was doing here? Oh, right, my mission today! Taking their paw, I practically shot up from my position, recalling what I had come here to do.

"I was tasked- I mean asked to come here today to meet an Obaya Uday! I ought to do those things to which I agreed, don't you think? If I can't live up to their expectations, then how can I expect them to trust me?" I hit my chest with a puff of pride, a vain attempt at keeping true to the image of the person I was imitating, but then something else entirely caught my eye: A human woman with a darker skin shade, draped in white dressings like the layers of an onion. That was her, wasn't it? The one I had been looking for and was supposed to meet today?

Before I could wave to her or in any other way call her attention, however, some creature climbed out of the well. It wore a form I could not see myself ever voluntarily emulating, a hulking mass of half-baked deformities and a horrible stench to boot. What was it doing here? What sort of tavern kept monsters like that in their basement with a perfectly good opening for them to escape? If anything, I was surprised it hadn't happened much earlier than this.

It was then I came to a realization. I looked at my hands, then felt my face with them. The form I was currently wearing was that of a prodigal sorcerer! As much as I wanted to run away, maybe take the person I was going to meet with me as we both escaped and left this matter to those more qualified, I couldn't allow my client's body to be seen like that! They had gone to great pains to dress me and show me how they acted, I couldn't afford to screw it up any more than I already had! Which left me only one choice...

To fight, and to find some excuse to not make full use of the talents of a prodigal sorcerer (which I did not myself possess).

Chest puffed out again, waist swinging and chin raised, I took a few steady steps in the direction of the troll that I hoped appeared confident enough. As if revealing something in my palm, my arms rose and flipped to have my palms facing up. I moved my shoulders slightly forward to press it onto my back and closed my eyes while taking a deep breath. Albeit I could practically hear my own heartbeat, at least feeling my backpack on my back was helping me relax a little more. Hopefully, I could relax fully once this was all over.

"Hmph." I forced a grin. What was it she always said? "Insolence!"

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Interacting With: @Exit
Mentions: @zitacamron95
Might Also Want to Read: N/A
Initiative Roll: 8

Baldrick sighed as it seemed Yagra would be unable to help, at least at the moment. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking on his part that he would be able to quickly find and resolve whatever problem had called him to the city in the first place.

He was brought out of his musings as several patrons began to shout and his eyes were drawn to a large beast that emerged from the pit in the center of the room. "Soil and spirits!" Baldrick breathed. What was a creature like that doing here? The tavern had become a flurry of activity. Some people were fleeing or taking cover, while others seemed to prepare themselves for a fight. He may not be fighter, but he wasn't about to run away now. Taking a deep breath, Baldrick clutched his amulet and prepared himself for the inevitable clash.