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Dragon Heist

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Matches Malone pushes open the heavy tavern door, the warm, moist, smokey air a stark contrast to the bitter wind and icy rain. He holds it open for his two companions and they push their way through the laughter and slurred singing of the crowd. Anywhere else in the world this strange trio - two dark-skinned half-elves and the bird-man with the bright red throat pouch - would raise eyebrows. But this is Waterdeep, City of Splendors, the multi-cultural capital of the Sword Coast. And nowhere is the diversity of city life so manifest than here in the Yawning Portal, which attracts adventurers from across Faerûn like a flame does moths.

The center of the tavern is dominated by the forty-foot span of an open well that leads down into the depths of the mountain below. Many have sought their fortune in the darkness below, few have returned...

At one of the tables close to the lip of the well a solitary figure spots the group and raises a hand in greeting. Matches recognizes his old partner, Saeth Cromley. The lines on his face seem deeper and his clothes a little more crumpled, but his smile is broad and welcoming. Three full tankards sit waiting and a thick wooden platter, arrayed with a selection of cured meats and cheeses, has been set down enticingly in the center of the table.
 
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The Yawning Portal, if you wanted excitement in Waterdeep this is where you found it. Not because the patrons got rowdy sometimes, it was more to do with that dammed pit in the middle of the room. People daring their friends to go splunking in Undermountain one day, reporting them missing the next. Too many cases ended that way, but at least those ones had an ending. He gave a nod to Durnan, the establishments perveyor, as he walked in.

With the whisper of a word, he dried his clothes. It wasn't a powerful spell but it came in handy. It was good to see his old partner the man brought a smile to his face, "Cromley you look old."

Taking a seat, he pulled a thin cigar from inside his long overcoat. Pulling flame from a nearby candle to light it. Malone had a way with fire. "So what's this big job you've got lined up?"
 
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The young drowish half-elf looked like he’d just arrived in Waterdeep than having been here for over a week. The clothes were quite wrinkled, and his whitish hair was quite disarrayed almost standing up straight in places. Ny'Veth followed 'Uncle' Matches towards the table and his old partner. Ny was really hoping that this job came through with some money. What money that he had come here with, was disappearing rather quickly. Prices were a bit more than in Baldur's Gate, additionally here, he wasn't allowed to 'work' yet. Being allowed to work would have helped pay the bills and repay the kind gnome who had taken him in.

One of the few things that he had going for him was the letter of introduction from Baldur’s Gate. It got him put up with another alchemist until he could apply for the recruit/adept/journeyman courses in 3 months.

“However, three months is a long time with no money coming in, will be catastrophic.”
 
A young aarakocra hangs back behind the half elves, looking around the bar while nervously fixing his feathers. He had heard of the Yawning Portal, though he never had a strong desire to visit as he preferred his taverns without an enormous cavern in the floor, thank you very much. But he desperately needed money, for Tana's sake, and their new workshop. This was one of the few jobs Ny could find.

He takes a seat by Ny'Veth, and leans in to him to whisper - quite a bit louder than he intended, "Are you sure this is a good idea? We don't even know what the job is yet, and we could be getting involved in a murder for all we know."
 
"Cassar, I know 'Matches' doesn't seem reputable, and he definitely has a bad reputation, however, I and my family have known him for over a decade. He wouldn't do anything stupid, or untrustworthy." Pausing and looking around, he leans in closer. "I want to help Tana as much as you do, as well as the fact that it'll help both of us just as much. Have faith and give it a few days. If it seems too good to be true or a trap, we'll get out of it."
 
"I..." he sighs, "You're right Ny, but I can't help being nervous. The chasm on the floor doesn't help." He straightens a few more feathers, and grabs a sausage from the platter. "If you trust Matches, then I'll give him a chance. Hopefully we can make it through unscathed."
 
"That's best I can ask for. I've know him for years. Honestly though, i think its legitimate." Muttering and gesturing a bluish white hand appears and grabs some cheese as he hols his mug with his other hand. Half listening to Matches and half scoping out the famous bar.
 
"A friend o' mine has someone he wants findin'. Missing person, like. The Watch just ain't got the resources for that kind o' thing right now, what with the war going on between the Z's and the X's. They even pulled me away from my gardening couple o' times when they's been short-handed!" He laughs and shakes his head. "Can ya believe that!?"

He squints and looks around. "He'll be hear soon, I reckon, if yar interested?" Turning back to Malone, he becomes more serious. "Try to keep it legal, is all I ask. I ain't got as much clout as I used to, and ya ain't the Watch's favorite son now, are ya?"

He gestures towards Ny'Veph. "This one registered is he? You know anyone doing mumbo-jumbo like that gotta be registered with the Magists." Sighing, he pats down his coat and searches through several pockets until he pulls out a crumpled sheet of parchment. "I know! I keep it on me even now." His eyes twinkle a little and he puts the paper down, flattening it with his hands. Turning to Cassar and Ny'veph he explains "this here is the Code Legal. I'm guessing Malone ain't bothered showing this, am I right?" He waits a beat and, getting no response, nods "thought not.

"Read it, learn it, follow it. Take this one, I got plenty more."
And he pushes the document towards Matches' companions.
 
At the next table along sits an elegant woman with dusky brown skin, her hair hidden under a crisp white head covering. Obaya Uday, priestess of Waukeen sits back in her chair and studies both the Tiefling and the Firbolg sitting before her. She speaks quietly so that her words do not travel beyond this small table. “My employer is a collector, with very particular tastes. He is interested in obtaining items of… power. And he pays extremely well. If you can provide. Do you have experience with such work?” Her jet black eyes absorb the dim light and seem to stare at both her guests as she waits for a response, her face a mask.
 
The young firbolg, with almost greenish skin and kind blue eyes, is sitting carefully and stealing looks at the tiefling every few seconds as they listen to the man. Phira dips her head to the priestess, eyes wide. "I do not have much experience with this type of work, but I would be honored to do it for you. I think I could do this well. What is it that your employer is looking for? Is it something in particular or is it just items of power in general?" She asks curiously. She was dressed in armor with a forearm shield on one side and a backpack resting on the floor next to her.
 
"I'm afraid I'm not especially experienced with this kind of work, friend. But there's always time to pick up a new skill, right?" Sunduako smiles widely; it's almost his default expression. It shows off his rows of unnecessarily sharp teeth, though they're all very well cared-for. His tail lightly shifting through the hole in the back of his chair. He looks back and forth from his employer to his newest coworker, but having no visible pupils or irises makes it hard to tell exactly if he's focused on any given person or object. He's learned to turn to face people to account for this, but for right now, his almost glowing, fluorescent pink eyes shift, stealing occasional, studying glances at each. As much as he might immediately trust the priestess, he can tell she's not entirely free of tension here at the table with them. He subtly and gently closes the distance between them and asks her directly, in an even softer tone than usual, "my new best friend here is asking all the good questions, but you seem a bit tense, miss Obaya; I have a feeling that this isn't the kind of work I'll be able to talk about with everyone I know, is it?" His smile's exchanged for a look of lighthearted curiosity.
 
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"Guess somethings have changed in the eight years that i was away from Waterdeep. I've checked in with the Supreme Order of Alchemists, but we can swing by the Guards and I'll formally register with them as well. Wouldnt want Matches or myself to catch any grief for not following the rules. Plus, i might be able to get a contact or two there." Ny stated after reading through the rules. "Doubt if they want any sorcs on patrols."
 
"Moradin's beard kid, it's not like the code is complicated. Does it seem questionable? Then it's probably illegal... Unless of course you have money or power or both." He exhaled his cigar smoke through his nose, if for nothing other then affect. Most people got uncomfortable around him, maybe it was the red scales creeping up his neck; or the yellow almost reptilian eyes. Most likely it was his instead gift to bend any flame to his will.

At one point the man had been handsome and well groomed, a shining example of the city watch. Now he looked akin to a vagrant. Black hair disheveled and three or so days worth of beard growth. Still, he knew how to get a job done.

"If your contact is good for his gold, we'll find him. Who is this mystery man anyway? You've been unusually tight lipped."
 
Grinning as he looks back to Matches. "I'm not planning on doing anything questionable, I just know that 'accidents' tend to happen a lot in the vicinity of us. I don't want to go to jail or pay a huge fine for an 'accident'."
Paying attention to what Saeth, said, he let his eyes roam over the crowd. He was struck by the unusual couple sitting next to them. He hadn't seen a firbolg since he was about 12 when he met a small tribe with his mother, a ranger. The reddish, devilish-looking tiefling, while more common was interesting because of the Firbolg and the human that was talking to them. Waterdeep was going to be so much more interesting than Baldur's Gate.
 
Durnan lifted a discarded mug from the bar and tipped the watery dregs into a slop bucket at his feet. Pulling a dirty rag from his belt he wiped it around the inside of the tankard, leaving a smear of grime around its lip. He held it up to the light and peered inside then shrugged a shoulder and gave a small nod, satisfied.

He placed the mug on the shelf behind his head and turned back to the Gnome, leaning down over the bar to look him in the eyes. "So you're looking for something special, something magic, huh? That's not much to go on, and I'm pretty busy right now." He sweeps an arm, taking in all the tavern's denizens. "If you tell me what it is I can probably point you towards someone who can help. There's plenty of magical items for sale in the city if you know where to look."
 
The priestess crosses her arms and her nostrils flare a little with distate. She sighs. "I need people who have experience in dealing with dangerous situations. It seems that we are wasting each others' time." Obaya pushes her chair away from the table and starts to stand. Glancing over at the neighboring table she stops, her hands pressed against the dark wood of the tabletop.

Obaya leans in. "There are a couple of dark-elves sitting at the next table." She begins. "No! don't look!" She hisses, rolling her eyes. "They could be very useful to me. Follow them; stay close to them. Befriend them if you can. If you demonstrate some skill with this simple task I'll get back in touch. Don't worry, I'll find you." With a sneering smile she rises, turns and walks off into the crowd.
 
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Phira blinks as the woman walks away, tilting her head at the tiefling. "Are all people in this city like that? It feels terribly inconvenient to be so...unpleasant." She glances towards the other table, shifting in her chair to see what they were doing. "Excuse me, did you say something about a job?" They ask softly, glancing around somewhat nervously.
 
Duck waves at her as she leaves, feelings a bit hurt, that, being only a few exchanges in, she decides he isn't worth her time, at least not in his present condition.
Well, if we sit around and mope about it, we might not ever smile again, and that sounds like no fun at all. Making another new friend sure does, though. Plus, didn't she say if we could make this new friend, she'd come back? Making friends is what we do best!
And just like that, his smile starts to sprout up again.
"I'm sure she's just very busy, especially if she's a high-priestess. The amounts of things they usually have to do, per day, is a bit brain-bending. It's a bit of a shame we weren't the kinds of big strong heroes she was looking for. Maybe she confused all these hearts on my clothes for favors from admirers?"
When Phira turns, he does too, though not immediately of course, he knows his unique appearance can be a bit shocking. Then he asks, in a voice just as soft, but that still carries through the air and has a confidence in what he says,"If you don't mind adding two more people to your team, friends, we'd definitely love to come along and help you out with whatever you need. I'm relatively good at treating sickesses and any sort of bug or animal bites, and I can definitely carry a few things."
As his eyes sweep across these other patrons, he's definitely very interested in the different, elf-like dragonoid, but then spots another one with wings and is immediately enraptured. He strides his way over to who will certainly soon become his new best friend, "Ooooooh! You have wings too? Not to sound especially gauche, but I've never seen someone like you in all my missionary work! I'd love to know you better, but before I get too terribly sidetracked, did they shout at you while you were trying to fly into town too?"
 
Cassar jumps at Duck's introduction, feathers puffed out, before he tries to remember how to interact with people. "I, err, no one yelled at me, I grew up here. I mean, I wasn't born here, but I was just a chick, and I don't fly much. I mean, I can, it's just that my wing's not great and would you like a sausage?" He holds out a sausage in a desperate attempt to distract from the hole he's digging himself.
 
Phira perks up at the sausage, tilting her head. "I would like that if you are offering. Sausage is very good. I've only met a few of your kind. What is your name?" She questions, taking a sip of her drink, shifting on the chair and shooting a Please Be Quieter look at the tiefling.
 
The small, scruffily bearded gnome looks up over his large hooked nose at the dirty glass. Deciding a drink wasn’t really worth it after that display, Loxim stores his coin purse within his worn leather armor and looks up at Durnan. Keeping his voice low, Lox hopped onto his feet on top of the barstool so he could lean over the bar to whisper to the bartender. “I’m looking for a particularly powerful artifact, I can guarantee you that it is not something that will simply be sold in any magic shop. It has the power to...bend fate, change a person’s will, even reverse time.” The excitement in Lox’s eyes would be obvious to the bartender, while the rest of his face does not give away such emotion. “I do not expect you to have the information I seek, but I have heard that you might know of ways to make some good money, or gain some power so that I would be able to find someone who would know of what I seek.”
 
Duck doesn't notice the subconscious intimidation attempt much.
"Oh, well that's interesting. I guess maybe this town just has all the neat people in it."
When Phira takes the sausage, and speaks, he instinctively looks at her, and he does catch the hint to quiet down, so he gets a bit closer and turns his internal volume knob down, then starts to dig around in his bag.
"While we're sharing treats, I think I have some kind of candy with me if you'd like some?"
While seaching, he continues, "So then maybe because you're a native, you don't need any special permission. I must just stand out as being foreign. When I first got here, the city guards shouted at me to ground myself, then asked if I had my flight permit, which I hadn't ever heard of, in any other town. I thought if anyone I've met so far knew or would know about them, it might be you."
He does eventually find them, three different kinds of candy in three different pouches, all kept in another, larger pouch.
 
Cassar sighs in relief before taking a drink from his tankard. "You can call me Cassar, and I don't think I have a flight permit, but I've never been caught flying, either. I usually just make short hops to roost, sometimes." He does a double take when he realizes what Phira said, "Wait, you've met another aarakocra? I haven't even met another aarakocra, where did you meet them? And I'm not a huge fan of sweets, but thank you."
 
Phira shrugs, glancing at the man's wing. "I, uh, I don't remember I'm sorry. I've been through a lot of small towns recently but I know I met a few once. They needed some healing ; one had hurt his leg. " She turns to study the tiefling again. "I mean it could be that or maybe no one can fly without a permit. either way im not sure I would suggest flying again without one, yknow? You dont want to get arrested..."
 
"Oh, right, sorry, I was so caught up in all my own conversation that I forgot how introductions go."
He says this in the general direction of the table, not to any one person in particular, "My name's Sunduako. My brothers and sisters in the church of Sune call me 'Brother Zeal,' but most people call me 'Duck' or 'Ducky.' You're welcome to do any you'd like." He gives everyone one of his usual smiles.
When he hears Cassar isn't especially into his candies, he just starts eating a few by himself.
"That might be the way it is, which I wouldn't doubt. I definitely wouldn't want to break any rules. But I'm not in any special rush to be anywhere fast, so I can wait to ask a few more people."
 

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