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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.
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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