• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Dragon Heist (5e)

OOC
Here
Characters
Here
Roleplay Type(s)
6J0MXJ4.jpg


Waterdeep: Dragon Heist
Alexandrian Remix

You have found yourself in Waterdeep and are in need of work, so to the Yawning Portal you've come. You have established a contact there who may be able to point you to someone in need if you ask, or perhaps the contact has already notified you about a job very recently, withholding the details but telling you to meet them in the tavern that evening.

Famed explorer Volothamp Geddarm will ask you to take on a simple quest. Little do you know that Waterdeep's next Grand Game is brewing. You will compete against various factions within the city, but only time will tell if you will crack Neverember's Enigma and reap the reward.
 
A8bOMLx7yDnLpLZrEn-2bIKcA-u-_YkuC0zrjZMiiMo.jpg
On the first evening of Chess, the last slivers of daylight have faded not long ago, and so too has the sun's blessed warmth given up its fight against the chill of mid winter. The occasional breeze nips at the flesh and urges pedestrians to hurry to their destination or to stay indoors altogether.

The Yawning Portal, a tall, stone building with a slate roof and several chimneys, is doing its part to warm travelers and Waterdavians alike. Patrons gather around tables and fill up standing space. They drink and chatter and laugh, the sounds weaving a tapestry of merrymaking atop the backdrop of music.

Above the common room sits rooms with beds available for rent, but perhaps the Yawning Portal's most notable feature is the forty-foot diameter well that consumes most of the ground floor. A rope-and-pulley mechanism hangs above it, the makeshift doorway to the dungeons of the Undermountain, an attraction to many bold adventurers from the corners of Faerun, though the staff and some of the tavern's regulars are keen on steering away those individuals who do not yet look strong enough to survive its depths.

Among the crowd, there are a few noteworthy faces.

There is Durnan, the human proprietor, with wavy brown hair and mutton chops. He stands behind the bar in one of the back corners - specifically, the northwest one. He pours drinks, only speaking when spoken to.

There is Bonnie, the human barmaid, with long, light brown hair and a dusting of freckles. A smile adorns her face as she walks the floor and tends to the crowd.

Mattrim "Threestrings" Mereg plays his infamous three-string lute from atop the stage in the northeast corner of the common room. His shoulder-length, light brown hair hangs in front of his face as he strums and sings. When Threestrings performs, it's the only time his shoulders don't appear to cave around him. Perhaps another bard has joined him tonight.

Jalaster, a human man with trimmed brown hair and a square jawline, is present this evening, too. He sits on the fringes of the room with his back to the wall. A tankard in front of him seems to go largely untouched as he watches the other patrons.

And lastly, there is Yagra, a half-orc woman. Tiny tusks poke out from her bottom lip, and a black tattoo on her neck is partially obscured by her long hair, though someone who cares enough to stare might notice the ink forms a winged serpent. She cries out triumphantly as an elf stands up from her table, having just lost to the half-orc at arm wrestling.

All of them are aware that a certain famed traveler is in need of adventurers. Volo sent word not long ago and is expected to arrive soon. They know that Bonnie is the one who will officially broker in the meantime.
 
Mori enters the establishment with an outgoing and cheerful stance, their form painted with a strange amber orange and faint yellow pattern, reminiscent of a warm fireplace. They scan the tavern in search for Mattrim, finally finding him upon the stage. They smile and wave to the other bard.
 
Diana walks into the Yawning Portal and quickly glances around at each of tavern patrons. Her short brown hair is covered by her signature green hat and her jacket is open showing off the leather armor beneath. She walks over and takes a seat next to Jalaster. "Spot anything interesting yet? With the big celebrity showing up soon, something exciting is bound to happen eventually." She looks around at the other patrons as she wonders what this Volo guy could possibly know about the dragons and if it's actually the real Volo that's coming or a dragon in disguise.
 
Epono couldn't feel his legs. That was a good sign.

The half-elf hopped off his seat and stretched, right leg outstretched, careful to keep the tankard in his hand from tipping over. Not that there was much mead left. How many drinks had he had? He checked his coinpurse.

Oof. Too many, apparently.

Just one more, then. Epono raised his empty left hand, waving to Bonnie with a smile. She was a kind spirit, the sort that kept customers coming back even if the drink wasn't of the best quality — not that the Portal's was anything to sneeze at. Or that Epono would particularly care.

Besides, he liked the place. It was unique, and Durnan was a fine bartender. It also happened to be the best place Epono had found to pick up tidbits of information. Sadly, much of it wasn't interesting. And none of it, as of yet, had found him work. Hopefully, Bonnie would be able to help with that.
 
med.png
Threestrings is picking his lute and scanning the room when he spots someone waving at him from among the bodies who mingle on the floor. His attention hones in on the cheerful-looking warforged, and he grins with crooked teeth as he holds a vocalized note. One more line wraps up the song. Those patrons who are being attentive to the music cheer and clap. The bard appears to be on the verge of blushing at the response. He bows, the movement almost uncertain as if he thinks he could turn out to be mistaken, or as if they might retract their praise by his showing appreciation.

The motion takes but a moment, and he returns his attention to Mori. He waves gingerly and beckons. Only when the colorful warforged is comfortably in earshot does Threestrings speak. "H-hello, Mori." One of his fingers run idly along one of three surviving strings of his lute. His shoulders aren't as caved around him as they might be if he were talking to someone else. "Oh, uh, do you have one of your instruments with you? Would you like to play together? I would like to...if you would want to, but if not, that's really okay, too. I mean, maybe there's something else you need...?" He laughs and smiles sheepishly in a way that says, "Okay, I'll shush and let you speak now." Awkwardness is often palpable with Threestrings.



med.png
Jalaster smiles at Diana when she approaches. He gestures to one of the vacant seats, as unnecessary as the invitation may be with the woman. Humor glimmers in his eyes when Diana references Volo, or at least he has little doubt that he is the celebrity she means. "What, do you mean him getting drunk and doing something embarrassing?" he teases. "The man does enjoy a good ale." He imagines Diana could have heard Volo was looking to hire help from those who weren't adverse to danger. The news was recent, he suspects, and therefore probably not well spread, but it wouldn't surprise him if word had swept through the city watch.

Of course, it is just as likely that his suspicions are incorrect. The truth would, more or less, reveal itself soon enough.

He nods toward the stage before extending an index finger to the back of a metallic-looking head. "A tin man arrived shortly before you. We don't see many warforged in our city." His hand lowers to the table, where his thumb returns to idly stroking the handle of the tankard set before him. "I doubt it's connected to this celebrity you mention, however. What do you hope will happen?"



med.png
Bonnie's attention has already gravitated towards Epono when he waves. A smile is trained upon her freckled face, though its tight and tinged with discontent, an expression she usually doesn't wear when faced with a drunk patron. It lasts for but a second. She deftly struts through the crowd. "Look at the state of ya. Someone's been very easy with drink tonight." Her accent speaks of rural origins. A giggle like a peony tails her comment.

She alights upon him, a hand gently grasping his arm as she tries to goad him to a vacant table. "Why don't we get ya some water, and perhaps some food in your belly, hm? I-it's on me. I'm sorry, I meant to find ya sooner, but we're a little busier than normal tonight. We need to sober ya up--very soon."
 
Diana gives Jalester's joke a fake laugh. Diana takes a quick look at the strangely colored warforged and quickly comes to the conclusion that it has nothing to do with the dragons. Diana fiddles with her fingers a little as she thinks about what she hopes will happen. "I hope to get some information on how to stop whatever the dragons are plotting, but it's hard to tell what will actually happen." She stops fiddling with her fingers and begins speaking in a joking tone. "Maybe he'll be to find to find you a date old man. I know you need the help. While me on the other hand will have ladies lining up just to get a chance to get a date with me once I stop whatever it is the dragons have planned."
 
Epono smiles sheepishly as he lets Bonnie guide him to the table. "Yer too kind, Bonnie, but who am I to decline an offer like that?" He glances around the room. Indeed, patrons seemed to fill every corner — gods, what was that? A metal person? Waterdeep was something else.

"I don't know what Durnan's payin' ya, but it ain't enough," Epono said. "No rush on that water; you've got yer plate full, for sure."

Even in his intoxicated state, the half-elf picked up on Bonnie's stress. Something was weighing on her. The work, maybe. He'd been to enough taverns to know that some patrons could be pretty demanding of the staff. And while the Waterdeep crowd tended to be fairly well-kept, even a couple of rowdy folks could ruin the night.

He slipped a silver into Bonnie's hand as she helped him into his seat. "That's for yer kindness, not the meal, alright?"
 
Mori smiles to Threestrings and chuckles, "No need to be nervous. We're all just here to have a good time, right?"

With a slight wink, Mori pulls out their lute and strums over it once, letting a faint, yet pleasant tune fill the air. They move further to Threestrings, taking a position right next to him. Waving to the small audience of patrons, they glance back at Threestrings, "Want to give them another show?"
 
med.png
Threestrings chuckles along with Mori. His hair falls in his face as his smile brightens, yet also somehow seems more sheepish. "Yes, you're right, a good time." But some of his awkwardness begins to fade as the first strum of the lute vibrates and hangs in the air. The nearest patrons pause their conversations and drinking to look. They turn more fully toward the stage, curiosity and interest sparkling their eyes at this new bard.

At the question, Threestrings smiles. His shoulders straighten a bit as he positions his hands along his own instrument. "Please, why don't you lead? If you want. I can accompany."

(Roll CHA (Performance) with advantage.)



med.png
A hint of exasperation colors Jalaster's smile when Diana brings up dragons again. It's there and gone as quickly, almost as if it hadn't crossed his features at all, because, suddenly, she perks up, her words laced with humor. A loose fist covers his mouth as he laughs. "Is that so? Well, I suppose it would make you our knight in shining armor, and the greatest sleuth in Waterdavian history. Many will do anything to have that brush with fame, but I can picture already the lovely lady who will catch your eye. Her smile will make you smile. Her laugh will be like the birds in spring. You will cherish every moment with her." The fist that had covered his mouth a moment ago now props his chin. He stares toward the stage, but his mind seems to wander elsewhere for a moment.

"I don't know if Volo will know much about your dragons. I have a feeling his mind is preoccupied with other matters this evening. It's something that might interest a detective, actually."



med.png
"Oh, hush, you," Bonnie says lightheartedly, "don't ya go worryin' over me, now. It's you who we need to be lookin' after. This table's clean. Why don't we get ya settled here, in this chair. Easy now. There ya go."

For a second, her face goes blank as she stares at the piece of silver in her palm. Slowly, her attention raises from it to Epono. Appreciation wells in her eyes before her wits seem to return to her, although a smile spills across her face anyhow. Her other hand falls upon his shoulder. "Thank ya." She pockets the coin. "You sit tight while I ask the cook to whip ya up somethin' tasty. We need to get ya ready for a job I heard about. I'll tell ya more when I get back."

Bonnie turns and almost goes to the bar when she spots another new patron. Instead, she beelines for the table. "Jalaster, it's not often when I see ya keepin' company." She looks from the man to the young woman. "Hello there, can I get ya anythin'?"
 
med.png
Threestrings chuckles along with Mori. His hair falls in his face as his smile brightens, yet also somehow seems more sheepish. "Yes, you're right, a good time." But some of his awkwardness begins to fade as the first strum of the lute vibrates and hangs in the air. The nearest patrons pause their conversations and drinking to look. They turn more fully toward the stage, curiosity and interest sparkling their eyes at this new bard.

At the question, Threestrings smiles. His shoulders straighten a bit as he positions his hands along his own instrument. "Please, why don't you lead? If you want. I can accompany."

(Roll CHA (Performance) with advantage.
12 + 5 = 17 on Performance

[text TBA]
 
For a moment Diana smiles as she imagines a beautiful woman smiling at her, but she gets herself back to reality. "Something that might interest an amazing detective like myself you say. This sounds exciting." She can tell Jalaster seems to know something about the issues Volo is need of adventurers for, but Diana thinks she will have to speak to Volo himself to find out what those issues are.

Diana looks at the barmaid who approached her and Jalaster. "Maybe just some water." Diana doesn't feel hungry having already eaten something before arriving and she no desire to dull her senses before the thing with Volo happens.
 
Amelia Rymm walked with purpose under the dark Waterdavian sky. Night had fallen but the cold was kept at bay by the dark navy-blue gambeson and suit of chainmail on top of it she wore. The sort of outfitted a wondering mercenary or adventurer would wear. Her arms were protected by two iron gauntlets. The right one bearing the Eye of Helm obscured by thick leather wraps. She is not trying to hide the fact that she is a Paladin, it is just something she prefers to be able to choose when to reveal.

The crisp air and glowing city lights would have been peaceful, relaxing even, if not for her compatriot.

"Look, Amelia, if you wanted to take me out to buy me a drink, you could have asked instead of dragging me across town... I'm not complaining but the Fig and Ferry was a lot closer."

"Rymm. You are to refer to me as Rymm. And we are going to pick up a job." Her reply was curt.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, its not like I'm calling you Amy. Or Lia. Or Ames. Or Mel. And what is this about we? Why do I need to come?"

"Oh by Murdane, why am I putting up with this?” She muttered more to herself. “I have already told you; I need to see if you are worthy of your position. If you are willing to work to benefit the citizens of Waterdeep. This job will be a good... practice run. Besides you don't want that secret of yours to get out, do you?” Of course, that wasn’t the whole truth. But there was no need to tell him that. She shuddered to think what he would be like if she told him she had a dream of him, and that’s not even considering how fate entire city may hang in balance.

If he had a response, she didn’t hear it. Immersing herself into the warmth and liveliness of the Yawning Portal, eager to hear the wonderful music coming out of the tavern. Her first thought was “Where the fuck is floor?” Followed shortly by, “Ah, yes that would be the ‘Portal’ part.” She was grateful that the music masked her outburst and what fine music it was. Her elven ears perked up at the melody produced by the two lutes, though who was playing them was perhaps more interesting. A metal (?) person and a human she assumed to be their owner. Out of the two the steelhead was by far the better player. Leading the duo and performing much more confidently on their fully stringed lute. Wait, the human’s lute had only three strings. Surely if they had the means to afford such an advanced golem he would be able to buy a new lute? Was it independent? A living and thinking construct… They could be dangerous.



Rymm shifted to observe her surroundings, her left hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Behind the bar was a sharp looking man, pouring out drinks with a measured ease. Slumped down on one of the tables there was bored looking orc (half or full?) with a serpent tattooed to her neck - a symbol of some gang affiliation perhaps? She looked the type. Her eye next to move to an older man (well, older then she was) that look strongly familiar to her, did she know him from somewhere? He was talking to a roguish looking woman, with a pleasant look on her face. Daydreaming about something nice Rymm reckoned, well until she was jolted out of it by a cute barmaid who had just walked over from… ‘No, it can’t. That’s… That’s. No. What are the odds? Lord Helm be merciful.’

She walked as if in a dream. Her mind not believing what her eyes were telling her. But it was real all right.

“Epono?”
 
Last edited:
Epono grinned stupidly at the mention of food. "Take yer time," he said. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

He leaned back in his chair, balancing precariously on its hind legs as he steadied himself with one hand and tipped back the tankard with the other. Finally, a job. He hoped this one didn't involve him mucking stables for a tenday for a lower-ranking noble. Dealing with a constant stream of dung was miserable work, and the horse poop was bad too.

Epono stopped mid-drink when he heard his name called. Not removing the tankard from his lips, he looked to the source of the sound to his left. His eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as he saw the woman standing before him. He nearly spit out his mead, but quickly decided wasting it would be uneconomical, and swallowed it instead.

Folks often complained that you couldn't tell one paladin from another, what with the uniform and the layers of armor. But there was no mistaking it. His sister was here. Nine hells, he hoped this wasn't a setup. Was Bonnie in on it somehow? Had he been followed? Tracked? How much did Amelia know about what he'd gotten involved in?

Pulling his cloak — an old maroon thing he'd won in a game of three-dragon ante a few months back — tighter to himself, Epono gulped down his questions like a chaser after the alcohol. He wasn't any more intoxicated than usual, and the sudden rush of adrenaline rushing through his veins seemed to trigger a familiar rhythm in the back of his mind. All conversations were like a song, after all: they had beats and melodies that needed to be hit, and if you did a good enough job everyone else would be dancing along.

Unfortunately, he thought as he stood up from his chair, this particular conversation loomed like a dance — he sucked at dancing.

"Mels!" he exclaimed, stretching out his arms in greeting, a smile plastered across his face. "What a surprise! What brings you to this fine establishment? No wait — don't tell me. You've given up on the whole holy warrior thing and you're starting a band. I always knew you could do it!"

Epono's gaze flickered momentarily to the door of the Yawning Portal. If things got ugly, could he make it there before Amelia grabbed him? He'd have to shove that guy next to her out of the way, but maybe she wouldn't expect it.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't shove a breeze, and she could bench press him a hundred times without breaking a sweat. No, he needed to be cleverer about this. Get some bodies between him and her, at least until he could figure out what was going on.

"How about some drinks, eh?" he said, still maintaining a distance. "Maybe I can flag someone down. Hey Bonnie! Would you mind bringing a couple rounds? I've got a guest here."
 
med.png
Threestrings listened for a measure before joining in. His accompaniment is sparse, an accent to the melody picked on the other lute. He watches Mori from his spot beside him and smiles. It is the warforged that is the main event for this song, after all, something that seems to turn more and more heads. Some sit mildly slack-jawed at the new tune to breach their ears. Others murmur animatedly amongst their company and regard the being with a mix of astonishment and curiosity. A few more leap from their seats and dance.



med.png
med.png
Jalaster smiles politely when his mention of Volo piques Diana's interest. He doesn't have a chance to speak more on it, however, before the barmaid appears. "I have to shake things up some nights, Bonnie," he remarks, and gives a friendly wink to Diana.

Both of them listen to the young woman's order, though Bonnie more attentively. "Water it is!"

She is just about to spin on her heels and go to the bar when Jalaster interjects: "I believe there is one more thing my friend would like to order, Bonnie. However, it's not on the menu." He casually leans forward in his chair. "You are brokering for Volo until he arrives, are you not? Diana here is a fine detective. I imagine Volo would be quite happy to have her as a part of this group you are assembling." He glances at Diana with a smile.

"Oh!" Bonnie looks over the young woman, as if truly seeing her for the first time. A smile brightens her features. "Yes! I think Volo would be delighted to have your help. I'm a bit busy at the moment, but if you..." She trails off upon seeing Epono is standing again. He calls to her in that moment. Her mouth opens. She's about to respond when a commotion erupts from a neighboring table.



med.png
350
"Ya pig!" shouts a raspy, masculine voice. The owner's bald head is marked with an eye-shaped tattoo. "Like killin' me mates, does ya?"

The previously bored Yagra has stood from her chair. The half-orc's seven-foot height has her towering over the human male stalking up to her, but it doesn't stop the man; the wild, swinging punch comes anyway. It strikes her jaw and knocks her head sideways. The crowd around them falls silent. They all watch her fix her attention upon her assailant. A smirk curves her lips from which her tiny tusks protrude. She cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed man, tackling him to the floor and almost into the four other goons behind him.

Patrons swoop in and cluster around the brawl. Even from the stage, it's impossible to see what exactly is unfolding from the middle of the whoops and cheers. Anyone who desires a better view, or more, will need to push past the roughly ten feet of crowd, and then they might catch a glimpse of Yagra sitting atop the dazed man, her fist raised for the next blow.

Diana sits five feet away.

Epono, Rymm, and Bastle stand about twenty feet away.

The stage is the farthest, being forty feet from the scuffle.
 
Mori can just barely make out what's going on - it must be a fight happening, surely? Why else would there be such commotion and cheering?

Mori pondered their course of action for a few brief moments, before letting out an unconcerned sigh. What happens would happen, and what place were they to disrupt such a happy crowd?

They continued to play their tune, though slightly changing the melody in an attempt to synchronize with the ongoing scuffle. They let out a faint grin at that motion - this would certainly be fun.
 
Amelia Rymm walked with purpose under the dark Waterdavian sky. Night had fallen but the cold was kept at bay by the dark navy-blue gambeson and suit of chainmail on top of it she wore. The sort of outfitted a wondering mercenary or adventurer would wear. Her arms were protected by two iron gauntlets. The right one bearing the Eye of Helm obscured by thick leather wraps. She is not trying to hide the fact that she is a Paladin, it is just something she prefers to be able to choose when to reveal.

The crisp air and glowing city lights would have been peaceful, relaxing even, if not for her compatriot.

"Look, Amelia, if you wanted to take me out to buy me a drink, you could have asked instead of dragging me across town... I'm not complaining but the Fig and Ferry was a lot closer."

"Rymm. You are to refer to me as Rymm. And we are going to pick up a job." Her reply was curt.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, its not like I'm calling you Amy. Or Lia. Or Ames. Or Mel. And what is this about we? Why do I need to come?"

"Oh by Murdane, why am I putting up with this?” She muttered more to herself. “I have already told you; I need to see if you are worthy of your position. If you are willing to work to benefit the citizens of Waterdeep. This job will be a good... practice run. Besides you don't want that secret of yours to get out, do you?” Of course, that wasn’t the whole truth. But there was no need to tell him that. She shuddered to think what he would be like if she told him she had a dream of him, and that’s not even considering how fate entire city may hang in balance.

If he had a response, she didn’t hear it. Immersing herself into the warmth and liveliness of the Yawning Portal, eager to hear the wonderful music coming out of the tavern. Her first thought was “Where the fuck is floor?” Followed shortly by, “Ah, yes that would be the ‘Portal’ part.” She was grateful that the music masked her outburst and what fine music it was. Her elven ears perked up at the melody produced by the two lutes, though who was playing them was perhaps more interesting. A metal (?) person and a human she assumed to be their owner. Out of the two the steelhead was by far the better player. Leading the duo and performing much more confidently on their fully stringed lute. Wait, the human’s lute had only three strings. Surely if they had the means to afford such an advanced golem he would be able to buy a new lute? Was it independent? A living and thinking construct… They could be dangerous.



Rymm shifted to observe her surroundings, her left hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Behind the bar was a sharp looking man, pouring out drinks with a measured ease. Slumped down on one of the tables there was bored looking orc (half or full?) with a serpent tattooed to her neck - a symbol of some gang affiliation perhaps? She looked the type. Her eye next to move to an older man (well, older then she was) that look strongly familiar to her, did she know him from somewhere? He was talking to a roguish looking woman, with a pleasant look on her face. Daydreaming about something nice Rymm reckoned, well until she was jolted out of it by a cute barmaid who had just walked over from… ‘No, it can’t. That’s… That’s. No. What are the odds? Lord Helm be merciful.’

She walked as if in a dream. Her mind not believing what her eyes were telling her. But it was real all right.

“Epono?”

"Oh yes indeed..." he muttered under his breath, "why on earth are you putting up with me?" The displeasure on his face was more of that of inconvenience than anything malicious. No, he wasn't angry, not really. A bit annoyed, but even with that being the case he still tried to put his best face forward.

That didn't stop his grumbling as they entered, though, as judging from that distinct turn of her head away from she was probably just going to ignore him again. Aw well... it really wouldn't be good to argue in the tavern. No sense in disrupting the enjoyment of others.

Following after her, he patted the lantern at his waist to make sure it was there, out of sight save for the bludgeoning under his cloak that could be anything from a bag to a.... well... a lantern. Which it was. At least SHE was in there. He thought. He hoped. Last thing he needed was for her to start cause any mischief when he was trying to look good in front this paladin. That would not at all.

He really wasn't paying much attention when she had gotten to the table. When he idly let his gaze drift over to the occupant he had to do a double take. No. That wasn't a second Amelia. Thank then light it wasn't a second Amelia. No, it was a man. Looked like Amelia though. Was that a compliment to the man or insult to Rymm? Amusing thought, but the recognition on the man's face was enough to confirm that he most certainly didn't imagine the resemblance. Had to be family? How close? Fah, it didn't matter. Amelia drug him here, so he wasn't going to just let himself be left out.

Bastle was a well dressed man, in fine well made clothes, made with colors of green and brown just dull enough to not stick out any more than a well to do merchant. Skin darkened by his time working the sea.

He gave Epono his best smile, grinning at the guy like he had known him for years. Before Amelia could even sit down, Bastle moved forward to grab the man's hand and give it a ln excited and friendly handshake. How could he not give "Mels" just a little bit of headache? Heh, and he knew one of those names he poked her with was the right one.

"Epono? Mels didn't tell me I'd be meeting one of my new inlaws here. Its great to meet you man. Great to meet you. I'm Bastle."

He held up a finger towards this Bonnie. "And one for me please! His drinks on me."



Before he could help himself to a seat, the commotion began. Naturally he too was among the patrons turning his head to try and get a look at what was happening. Oh no... he had a twisting feeling in his stomach and he looked at Mels with a pleading look. Breaking apart fight wasn't the sort of job he was expecting to come in here for.

kaito9049 kaito9049 A Sparkling Zombie A Sparkling Zombie
 
Diana is happy that Jalaster is spreading the word of her great detective work to a lady of the city, but is still is wondering what this job she is being volunteered for is going to be. Diana can instantly tell this is a battle between the two gangs and judging by the fact these five goons are attacking in public like this she is able to tell that they are low ranked members of Xanathar Guild. Diana reaches a hand on her rapier knowing it's only a matter of time before weapons start to get drawn when the goons realize that don't stand a chance in a fist fight and the whole tavern gets drawn into this chaos. She looks over to Jalaster with a smug look. "Told you something exciting was going to happen". She stands up from her seat, but doesn't engage into the battle at this time since she doesn't want to seem like she is supporting either of the gangs.
 
Epono suppressed a flinch as the well-dressed man strode toward him and grasped his hand with more familiarity than was frankly appropriate. But whatever surprise he felt was quickly surpassed by the utter shock that jolted through his body at Bastle's words.

"Good t' meet ya as well, Bastle," he replied, still holding onto the other man's arm. His eyes flickered over to Amelia with a widened expression. Amelia was engaged? To a guy? This guy? The thought would have seemed laughable — if Mels was even capable of laughing anymore. Epono was pretty sure the paladins had seared that away with holy magic or whatever. Then again, it had been a while. People changed.

Besides, if this Bastle fellow was paying for drinks, he couldn't be all bad.

The sound of fist striking flesh and a chorus of shouts interrupted Epono's thoughts. He craned his head to some feet nearby, where, it seemed, a good-natured bar brawl had started. It was a shame; it'd doubtless delay Bonnie from fulfilling their order.

Epono leaned against the table he'd risen from. Now was a good time as any to slip out of the tavern — and he hadn't yet ruled out that possibility — but he was a bit curious to see what his sister would do. And he wanted his free drink.
 
"Ha no, I mean the competition here is clearly way to stiff. I'd never make it in a band. But I did manage to gain membership to an Order," She said raising her right hand and pulling away the leather straps obscuring holy symbol of Helm. "I am an initiate of the Vigilant Eyes of the Watcher." It was weird how easily it was to fall back into old habits and just talk to him. Amelia hadn't spoken to him in years. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms - her decision to leave was motivated as much by anger at his stubborn refusal to change as it was by her desire to start afresh. She always wondered if that was a mistake, her late mentor always told her that she acted too recklessly... Had she abandoned her younger brother in a fit of rage?

Lost in thought, she was not able to pre-empt Bastle's introduction. 'Oh fuck no, now's he going to insist on using Mels...' "Ugh, ignore him. He does not know what he's saying half the time." She made a vague dismissive gesture with her hand. "Besides we can't drink, we are here on business; We are getting a job from an old contact of mine." She looked around the tavern for Volo before sighing, this had been an exhausting month. "You know Epono, it's... it's nice to see you again."

The conversation was mercifully cut short by a shout. "Ya pig! Like killin' me mates, does ya?" 'Thank Helm, something else! A tavern brawl. A problem that can be solved by punching it, wonderful! I should go stop it.'

She glanced over to Bastle and barely resisted the urge to smirk. The look on his face was cathartic. "Come on," She said as she began to walk off. "I might need the backup." Rymm was confident that he will follow, it would look awfully suspicious in front of Epono if he didn't after all.

Her mind was set and her body tensed, ready for action. The thrum of tavern's music ponded in her skull. She pushed roughly through the crowd. Saw the man sprawled dazed on the floor and reacted on instinct. Her hand moving to grab the half-orc's fist in the zenith of it's swing.

Roll Strength (Athletics) +5 : 8
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top