Waterdeep: Dragon Heist

[ArcticFox]

The clumsy little stirge doesn't present a challenge for Boo. She slips out of the monster's path with ease, spinning on her heel masterfully. Even the creature is awed by the manoeuvre, so much so that it forgets where it is going, slamming into one of the support columns of the tavern. It renders itself unconcious.

The stirge that goes after Lucidian fares in a similar manner. The thiefling moves out of its way with little effort, looking particularly graceful. The poor monster tries to reel around and go after him, but it is caught by a swat from the Yawning Portal's bartender.

On the other hand, Milon doesn't fare well when all of the three stirges that went after him manage to latch onto his clothes with their little talons, then bite into exposed skin. Their bites are not particularly strong, but are very annoying. (-3 HP)

There are seven stirges remaining, but they are almost completely blind under the lights of the tavern.

The troll stretches, rising to its full height of nine feet and shakes off the stirges that were stuck to its body. Having drained copious amounts of the troll's blood three of them fly back down the shaft to digest their meal, leaving only one flying above the troll's head, along with the three that are now on Milon.

Most tavern patrons and staffers have already fled or taken cover at the sight of the troll, but the barkeep quite suddenly jumps over the bar, drawing a huge sword, and taking a spot directly in front of the troll.

"Deal with the stirges! I got the troll!" He yells with a grin on his face. The half-orc woman from the fight stands beside him.

Attack order:

Alma
Milon
Boo
Lucidian
4 Stirges

The troll is occupied with the barkeep and the orc woman and won't bother you for a while.

Felix Powgow clarinetti Cartoonicat

 

[clarinetti]

Towering over all who remained in the tavern, the troll had a surly expression as it looked around the Yawning Portal. It had yet to engage anyone, but the insect-like creatures which accompanied it divebombed at some of the patrons. The tall fighter who’d been previously speaking with the orc-woman had the misfortune of getting attacked by three of the stirges, but the other two deftly avoided the beasts. From her spot the cleric watched Boo spin in place before grabbing her daggers, spying blond hair and gnomish features beneath the hood. Curious- it was seldom that she saw other members of her kind beyond the burrows of their lands. But of course, questions would have to wait until later.

Plucking an arrow out and notching it, Alma targets one of the stirges clinging to the half-orc fellow. Inhaling deeply, a silent prayer echoed in her mind. Pray, let my aim be true.

Releasing the string and hoping the projectile met its mark, the coffee-skinned woman turned her attention back to the orc-woman, who along with the barkeep rose to battle the troll. The moustached man had requested that they leave the monster to him, and she certainly wasn’t going to reject that suggestion. But he hadn’t said anything about assisting him, now did he?

“Ironhand, grant this brave soul your protection!” the gnome intones, hand outstretched towards the courageous barkeep. As a shimmering shield surrounds the man, she flees the cover of the chair to dart behind a nearby beam, keeping a safe distance between the troll and those fighting the stirges.

Ranged Attack: 14+1= 15
Damage: 3+1=4
Spellcasting: 6+4=10
Mentioned: ArcticFox Cartoonicat Powgow

 

[Powgow]

Occupied by the three overgrown insects, Milon had no time for other quips. Instead, he simply grunted what can pass to be an affirmative nod before making a few swings with his hammer. While it looks like he's trying to shoo them away if one hits it would probably still hurt.

Attack Roll = 21 (to one of the Stirges)
Damage Roll = 5

 

[Cartoonicat]

She dodged the stirge's attack effortlessly but the half-orc Boo had watched since before the bar brawl wasn't so lucky. While the stirges were little more than overgrown mosquitos and probably wouldn't harm him too much on their own, the distraction they caused posed a pretty big threat; the troll in the room demanded a certain level of attention if they were to get out of this skirmish in one piece. Boo doubted the half-orc would be much help taking down a gold dragon if he was downed by an Undermountain monster before she even got the chance to talk to him.

Unwilling to throw her daggers so close to the Undermountain entrance—if they fell into the dungeon, Boo would never get them back—she darted towards the half-orc man battling two stirges. "Careful where you swing that thing!" She announced herself, wary of getting hit by his flailing hammer. If anyone was getting hit, it was going to be those nasty bloodsuckers.

Daggers in hand, Boo aimed for each of his remaining attackers, hoping to help alleviate some of the burden.



Attack #1: Dice Roll 4 + To Hit 4 = 8
Attack #2: Dice Roll 13 + To Hit 4 = 17

Attack #2 Damage: Dice Roll 1 + Dagger Damage 2 + Sneak Attack 6
Total Damage = 9

 

[Felix]

Lucidian watched as the flies were terrorizing other patrons of the bar. He was slightly intrigued as he saw this lady bring up a shield in front of the barkeep, so selfless. A fellow spell-caster would be a nice advantage in any fight. The buzzing of the insect was incessant and starting to annoy him slightly, but it did give him an idea. He wasn't much of a fighter, sure he had his crossbow, knife and spear, but he wasn't much good with any of them. It would also mean he would only be able to target one of them. Instead he uncorked his bottle of gold sand and slowly started walking towards the middle of the room.

"You know how you always keep people awake with your annoying buzzes, and your tiny bites?" Lucidian said in a soft, yet firm voice. As he walked he moved his hand over the vial as if he was conducting an orchestra. Golden tendrils started to move from it and found their ways to the flies, first slow, but then fatser and faster. " How about I do the inverse now? It's time for you to go to sleep!" And as he pronounced the last word the tendrils struck in the eyes of the flies.

Sleep: The flies will fall asleep if their hitpoints are lower than what I rolled. After each fly that falls asleep you detract their hp from my roll. Start with the flies who have the fewest hitpoints.

 

[ArcticFox]

All of you do a lot more than necessary to dispose of the stirges, they are not large creatures and are not particularly strong either.

Thankfully, Alma's aim was true that day, otherwise she could have harmed Milon instead of helping him. The arrow embeds into one of the stirges and it falls down onto the floorboards with a tiny shriek. Alma, your spell also envelops the barkeep, who only glances back momentarily to offer a nod of his head, before facing the troll.

Milon, enraged as you are by the pesky bat-like creatures, it doesn't take you much to swat them away with your hammer. It's an overkill really, as you flatten one against the ground, leaving nothing but a bloodstain behind.

Boo, you contribute nicely too, as the third of the stirges on the half-orc moves away from him, you catch it with your attack, cutting it in half.

The fourth stirge falls asleep. The others would have been affected too, but they are dead by the time Lucidian casts the sleep spell. With a thud, the last stirge falls on the ground near the half-orc woman, who stomps its head with the heel of her boot.

The troll is being assaulted from two sides by the bartender and the orc woman. It always received a couple of good sword slashes, reeling back. As it steps backwards, it crashes against one of the tables, sending splinters of wood flying. Unfortunately, the table had been occupied just a moment ago. Dess, you have to hurry to get out of the stumbling troll's path (roll a dexterity saving throw to evade being stomped on).

"Douse it with lamp oil, otherwise it'll heal!" The barkeep shouts to the party, taking one of the hanging lamps and chucking it at the troll.

Alma, Milon, Boo and Lucidian, you can help set the troll on fire, or you can step back from the fight. No dice rolls needed, unless you are casting a spell.

Felix Powgow clarinetti Cartoonicat findinmyself

 

[findinmyself]

Seeing all of the commotion suddenly occur, strange creatures go flying, a group of people all running in to help, the bartender being extremely competent in his skills, Dess is overwhelmed. A little too much to handle, even for her. So, she spends a small while simply watching the scene happen, gently laying down her tankard of ale and calmly beginning to wrap her knuckles in some bandages. This thing has thick skin, and she isn't taking risks. But she's a little too calm for her own good, apparently, as right as she looks up to return to the chaos, the troll suddenly slams itself onto her table. How inconvenient. She isn't ready yet.

Attempting to lurch out of the way of the incoming threat, she pushes against the table and tries to flip off to the side, away from the splinters, and the troll's hulking figure. Her training in reaction times would have to come into use here, as she tries to bob and weave and jump her way out.

DEX Saving Throw: Roll 17, +5= 22 Total

 

[Powgow]

Maybe it was a bit overkill to use a Warhammer for what's nothing more than an insect, if a large one, but he was already brandishing his weapon earlier anyway. As far as he's concerned, the mosquito brought its fate to itself.

The troll's the bigger potential headache, and even as it fell, it still has the potential to rise back up. Milon's extensive tavern experience prompted him to look for anything that might aggravate the flame started by the bartender. He didn't need to look for long.

Taking a mug of ale from a nearby table, he proceeds to then empty its content into the burning troll. Hopefully, the beverage's a strong one, instead of one of those sweet meads or something.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Fire? Alright. Boo spared the interior a glance for resources able to boost the troll's burning time while keeping her out of harm's way; she didn't much like the way the creature stomped around, crushing tables and potentially the people occupying them. No, she wasn't going to get anywhere near that thing. While quick and nimble, Boo was half the size of most of the patrons she saw, if not smaller. She risked getting knocked around by people of medium size enough as it were; moving close enough to be squashed by a troll would just be irresponsible.

Drawing materials from her own backpack, Boo planned on her feet. An oil flask, a foot or two of string, and a spark from her tinderbox would make a decent explosive, but she missed a vital ingredient: Alcohol. Thankfully, the tavern seemed to be in no short supply. She didn't have to curse herself for ordering milk, after all.

Uncorking the clay flask and setting in half of the string as a makeshift wick, Boo darted towards a nearby table harboring a mug of who-knows-what. A quick sniff confirmed its usefulness—Yep, that's alcoholic—and she dumped the contents inside. A gentle swirl later, the concoction was ready to go.

 

[Felix]

Lucidian did not feel like doing the manual labor of throwing flammables to a troll. There were other people with more appropriate skills for that task, like the orc fellow. If he would be a troll and fire would stop him from healing and burn him, he would probably be terrified of fired. He took some gold sand in his hand and snapped his finger. He used prestidigitation that make it appear like something combusted and then made an illusion of a flaming ball in his hand. If you looked close you could see the flame had a course grainy texture to it.

"Don't worry it's not going to light up this place." He shouted to his allies.

As the others were piling on flammable material, Lucidian kept taunting the troll, making the fireball look increasingly bigger and more menacing. All the while he tried to maintain eye contact with the troll, as if to say: see what I am creating here? This is going to fly your way soon.

 

[ArcticFox]

Dess, you escape from the troll's path without any difficulties, slipping away from the hulking form. The troll crashes into the table and chairs, making a mess. You are now positioned behind the creature.

"Not in my tavern!" The bartender shouts, engaged by the troll's lumbering.

Just in time, a jug of beer hits the monster, making it growl both in pain and annoyance. It turns toward the disturbance, ready to lunge at Milon, but the half-orc woman cuts off its path.

In the meantime, Boo manages to assemble a cocktail that would burn nicely once it reaches the troll. You only need to manage to throw it at it.

But Lucidian has cast a spell prior to that, and the attention of the troll is swept away by it. The creature looks at the ball of fire, baring its teeth. It thinks for a moment and it looks like it is undecided if it should slip away or fight back. The troll's menacing nature overwhelms its fear in the next moment, and it knocks the half-orc woman aside, its eyes focused on Lucidian, perceiving you as the biggest threat.

Boo, you can throw your flammable cocktail now. Do an attack roll to see if it hits.

Lucidian, the troll is going after you, but it not close enough, so you can move out of its path without having to roll saving throws.

Felix Powgow clarinetti Cartoonicat findinmyself

 

[Cartoonicat]

Holding up the clay flask, heavy in her hand, Boo aimed for the troll. She hoped to throw it with enough force to actually break on impact... wherever that impact happened. The thought that this might not go as well as she planned flitted through her mind, slowing her hand. What if she caused more harm than good? Boo didn't think anyone had seen her face in the chaos. So long as that held true, there'd be nobody to pluck her from the street in handcuffs or point her out in a lineup of potential arsonists.

Boo drew her hood further over her face. Should things go wrong, she could just run away.

"Incoming!" She lit the string and launched the improvised bomb.

 

[Powgow]

Should've known it wasn't the strong stuff.

As the troll gave in to its instinct and became increasingly aggressive, Milon buckled down and moved forward. He faced foes bigger than him before, and since he has ranged support right now, he'll try to divert as much attention from them as possible.

As the troll began eyeing his conversation partner, Milon took the opportunity to get in-between the troll and the mage currently casting pyrotechnics. He takes a swing at the troll, before banging his hammer on his shield, trying to take his attention away from more pressing matters. Like, say, the flying, improvised bomb.

 

[Felix]

Lucidian was grateful for the orc putting himself in between him and the monster. He wanted to get rid of the flame as soon as he possibly could, so it's attention would be diverted. He couldn't just let it simmer out though, because that just wouldn't be interesting. Instead Lucidian retrieved some more sand and spun a real core into the flame, so it would actually hurt. From the corner of his eye he saw the bottle flying, so he threw his eldritch blasted within the silent image towards the troll as well. It was so rushed though that he did not get the chance to aim it properly. Good thing it wasn't actual fire.

 

[ArcticFox]

Milon, you try to swing at the troll, but the weight of your hammer fools you, almost tipping you over. You remain balanced, but the strike lands nowhere near the troll, and the hammer almost falls out of your hand as it thumps against the floorboards.

Lucidian, your spell flies way off as well, and sizzles harmlessly out of existence.

Boo, you trip just as you throw the flask and don't manage to throw it quite far. Instead the cocktail lands close to Milon, setting the floorboards near him on fire.

"The hell ya' aimin' at?" The half-orc woman gives you a confused look, then frowns. Both her and the bartender look very embarrassed for all of you.

The troll takes a swing at Milon, who is now the closest to him (-5HP). The blow sends you back reeling.

The bartender moves to intercept the troll so it doesn't reach Lucidian, and the half-orc woman rushes toward the kitchen of the tavern.

If anyone wants to try setting the troll on fire again, if you have anything to do it with, feel free to do so. Or just move out of the troll's way until the bartender and the orc deal with it.

Felix Powgow clarinetti Cartoonicat findinmyself

 

[clarinetti]

It didn’t take long for the whole situation to escalate out of control. Bottle were flung, fiery illusions conjured, and hammers swung about. For all the ruckus that ensued though, very little was accomplished, unless you included setting the floor on fire. Tucked away in her spot, Alma resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, slightly incredulous at the series of events. “Umm, it be wise to snuff those flames out, lest we want to be burnt along with the troll.” the gnome called out to the group, concern creeping into her voice.

Well, at least her gnomish brethren had had the right idea about them- the only way they were going to inflict some damage on that hulking fiend is if they burned the skin away. Luckily enough, she too had all the components needed on hand. Scanning the vicinity, the dark-haired woman spied an abandoned bottle of liquor on a table towards the well. Seeing the bartender step forward to defend the tiefling man, Alma sprinted a dozen feet and hopped atop the surface to swipe the half-full bottle. Sniffing the content gingerly and being satisfied with her findings, it didn’t take long to find a spare rag and the tinderbox and copy Boo’s method of constructing an improvised explosive.

Molotov in one hand and shield at the ready, Alma jumps down to the ground and draws close to the gnome, glancing about and wincing as Milon gets flung back by the troll. Oh dear... I don't care to know how well I'd fare getting swung at like that, she thinks with a shiver. Catching the girl's attention, Alma offers up the bottle while turning to the alcohol-drenched monstrosity. “Care to give it another go? I’m not much of a shot myself, but don’t know whether you’re much for superstition and such. I can assist, if you'd like.” she proposes, her free hand gesturing slightly as though to mimic casting an enchantment.

ArcticFox Cartoonicat

 

[Powgow]

Admittedly it wasn't his finest martial move ever.

With the troll's blow sending him reeling backward, Milon fell on his ass after trying to balance his footing. It was only for a moment, however, as he's quickly back on his feet.

"I ain't done yet!"

While it might be easier to just lie there as if he's done his job, Milon decided to jumo back into the fray. The action's more out of stubbornness than anything else. Along the way, he picks up a piece of burning wood and swings it towards the troll like a makeshift torch.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Boo watched the flask soar and fall quite far from the troll. That didn’t go well, she thought. It’s a good thing she’d concealed her face all this time, lest the barkeep decided later to come after them all for additional damages. Which there would be plenty of, considering the fire she’d started and the flaming board the half-orc ripped out of the ground.

Things really weren’t going well. At least, not in the refraining from property damage department.

The gnome who’d been hiding before, and who stood nearly a foot shorter than Boo, approached with another bomb and offerings to help. Doing her best to keep most of her face concealed, Boo kept her eyes on the gnome’s hands, rather than her face. “Alright, yeah,” she nodded, taking the bottle. “Thank you.” If she had an enchantment to spare, Boo hoped it was strong enough to mitigate whatever off-day her throwing arm was having. The first throw had been pitiful.

clarinetti

 

[ArcticFox]

Milon, you move ahead of the rest, coming up to the troll from the side. The floorboards give in easily and you manage to rip one out, then swing it at the monstrosity. It smashes against its hard skin, but seeing how drenched in oil and alcohol it is, it bursts into flames easily.

The troll lets out a howl of pain as it stumbles backwards, trying to extinguish itself, but failing. The Yawning Portal is filled with a strong stench of burning flesh, as the troll falls on the ground, rolling over it. The bartender closes in to finish it off easily.

"You fought well." The barkeep turns to take a look at each of you and nods, not much fazed with what transpired. He waves to the staff that floods into the inn once the danger has passed, and they begin the clean up process.

The orc woman returns with a pile of cinders in a bowl when the fight ends, and looks very dejected for having missed it. In the crowd that gathers again you lose sight of her quickly.

Whatever your next actions are, they are all stopped midway by the appearance of a rather flustered plump man who waves all of you over.

"You be adventurers, am I right? You must be, to be so brave to face a troll! I could use your help. Let's find a table to talk, shall we?"

Felix Powgow clarinetti Cartoonicat findinmyself

 

[findinmyself]

Dess, who had been watching this all transpire from the side, realised that she had indeed done nothing. Seeing all the fire go up, she thought it best to not run in and strike the large Troll with her own fists. Instead, she just stared on, studying the group of people who had stepped up to the plate. She liked the looks of them. Perhaps Savras had guided them to her, for some unknown reason. Best not to alter fate until there's no more threats in the area, eh?

Picking up a few of her things from the rubble of the destroyed table she stood by, she wraps her gear that's in a little grey satchel bag around her shoulder and walks closer in to the party as they reconvene, or whatever else it is that they do. Messing with her silver hair for a short moment in an attempt to look presentable, she begins to unwrap the bandages on her hands in order to seem a little more friendly. However, she doesn't approach the group. Instead, she edges closer to the portly fellow, about 10 feet away, and leans on a nearby surface, obviously observing the party. She made quite the show of her evasiveness when quickly dodging out of the way of the creature, so it was pretty obvious she wasn't any sort of regular individual. The reflexes were almost uncanny, like her instincts were heightened.

She thinks for a moment, considering if she wants to attempt to join them. It can't have just been coincidence, especially since fate is always following her, so she knows that she has to do something. Again, for now, just watching. She also looks interested in the gentleman who is trying to grab their attention, confused on his significance in her life.

 

[Powgow]

There were a myriad of conflicting feelings in Milon's head as the troll caught fire. On one hand, there was relief that he might've dealt the decisive blow to the marauding quasi-giant. On the other hand, he could do without smelling the burning stench of troll meat. It's not enough to make him sick to his stomach, but his appetite might not recover. It sure would be nice to smell good roast meat again.

"Just another day at the job, eh?" Milon jests in response of the bartender's compliment. Even if he cannot recommend the tavern's location at all, it's nice to see that the management could handle the occasional strays.

Putting his gears back to where they belong, he's already thinking a few steps aheas and - maybe even ahead of himself - trying to go back to the conversation he had with the traveler. Even a little lead to the matter of this treasure could go a long way, given he didn't have much to begin with.

Before Milon could voice his thoughts, however, he was interrupted by a heavy-set man seemingly acting in an urgent manner. While a tavern is one of the logical places you could find adventurers in, it's rather telling that he would approach shortly after the danger had been thwarted. Perhaps the usual patrons of the establishment are used to it.

"I wasn't one yesterday, but I could be one now." He said matter-of-factly, though his curiosity had been piqued. If nothing else, it might help cover the expense of his latest sojourn. Before he moves to moves to the table, he took a glance at the others the man called for. Those who assist in disposing the troll. He's pretty sure the other traveler is among that number, but he's not familiar with the others yet.

 

[clarinetti]

Something in the way the taller rock gnome covered herself up, the distance in her voice… it came across as curious to Alma. While she herself was a bit of a oddity in this respect, you seldom saw their kind straying so far from home, certainly not on their lonesome. It’s not my place to judge, really… I just hope this one knows what she’s doing, she mused quietly to herself as she inspected the little blonde lass. Before she had the opportunity to explain her intentions though, a mighty war cry filled the air as Milon swung at the troll with a burning floorboard. The cleric would have called it nothing less than a hair-brained scheme, yet surprisingly it was successful in setting the beast on fire, giving the bartender an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow.

Far more quickly than expected, the staff returned to deal with the corpse and clean up the mess. If it weren’t for the residual odour of smoke and charred flesh, you’d be pressed to tell anything more than a standard pub brawl had ensued within the hour. Amidst the commotion the orc-woman had disappeared from view, but in her stead a plump little man had come forth, supposedly witnessing their little fight and deeming them ‘adventurers’. “Really now, that’s too generous- anyone would’ve done the same.” she mumbles abashedly, caught off guard by the praise, a meek smile replacing her stern expression. Glancing over to the gnome, she nods over to the little posse forming. “I don’t know about you, but after all that nonsense I think it might be nice to share a few drinks together… it would be nice to sit and chat, one wanderer to another. Think about it, anyways.” Alma offered, giving Boo a kindly look before tucking away her gear and making her way towards the group.

Pausing at the alluring drow woman hovering nearby, the cleric bit her lip, indecision getting the best of her. This one seemed intrigued by the party, blatantly staring at the portly man and the half-orc, expression unreadable. The gnome had limited experience with drow, mostly here-say from the elven folk of the woods. From what she could make of it, those of the surface and the depths seldom got along, rooted in some long-standing distrust and hatred. To be cautious would be wise… and yet, she’d never before had the opportunity to actually speak with one of these dwellers of the Underdark. Jumping onto one of the bar stools, she cleared her throat to get the dusk-hued ladies’ attention. “Erm, you know, if you have a question or anything, you could always go up and talk to them.... Just an idea.” Alma suggested in Undercommon, hoping that she wasn’t being too nosy.

Praying the woman wouldn’t take her words poorly, she waved over one of the staff behind the counter. “Pardon me- a round of drinks for the group, please?” she requested, switching back to Common and pointing vaguely to the bunch who’d fought the troll. “Oh, and a plate of that roast chicken and potatoes, if there’s any left?”

Cartoonicat Powgow findinmyself ArcticFox

 

[Cartoonicat]

Bottle bomb in hand, Boo looked around the tavern. Despite the damage caused, the barkeep didn't seem too phased. She supposed that was a side effect of running a place with a direct link to a dungeon below the city. They cleaned up well, protocol not unlike that of a well-oiled contraption meant for optimal efficiency, and wondered if their efforts would include getting rid of the burning stink. It made her nose twist. Though, acrid stench aside, she figured they'd done this many a time before and allowed herself to relax somewhat; with the troll gone, no threat remained.

"Didn't need it after all, but—" she tried to return the bottle bomb, only to be interrupted by a portly man addressing the group. Boo lifted a brow. She didn't consider herself particularly brave—if anything, quite the opposite most days—but she supposed she'd stepped up to the plate enough today to be deserving of some praise, even if she'd not done much more than help swat away a couple of overgrown mosquitos. Still, she hesitated to join them, if only so she could pass the bottle bomb back to its proper owner.

When she turned, however, the gnome had moved to the bar. She stood nearby another patron that Boo recognized from the sidelines of the fight, occasionally talking in her direction. I guess it's time to be social, Boo thought. She didn't want to interrupt. Temporarily pocketing the improvised weapon, she made to find a seat at the portly man's table.

clarinetti findinmyself ArcticFox

 

[Felix]

Lucidian was a little angry at himself for missing the troll. He had to get better if he wanted to be adventurer. The barkeep seemed to think they were actually adventurers already. His job would probably not be as enticing as a dragon guarding treasure, but a story was a story and his patron really needed more of those. Besides, the half-orc who knew more about the treasure also accepted the barkeeps offer.

He turned to the barkeep: "Consider me intrigued." He followed the group to the table.

As the gnome ordered food and drinks, he intercepted. "Thank you, but if it is not too much trouble, could I ask for something slightly stronger than your regular beers?"

 

[ArcticFox]

The staff bring you the ordered food and drinks, arranging them on the table in front of each of you. Alma, your lunch looks particularly tasty and the smell of roast meat makes your mouth water. Lucidian, one of the serving girls brings you a glass of Zzar, a type of cherry wine popular in the city. It smells more sweet than anything, but on first try it is quite potent, if overly tasting of almonds.

Dess, you scoot closer to hear out the proposition and the portly man regards you with a smile, gesturing at you to take a seat as well.

The figure who approached all of you strokes his moustache, adjusts his floppy hat, and tightens his scarf, before speaking.

"Volothamp Geddarm, chronicler, wizard, and celebrity, at your service. I trust you've noted the violence in our fair city these past tendays. I haven't seen so much blood since my last visit to Baldur's Gate! But now I fear I have misplaced a friend amid this odious malevolence.

"My friend's name is Floon Blagmaar. He's got more beauty than brains, and I worry he took a bad way home a couple nights ago and was kidnapped - or worse. If you agree to track him down with all due haste, I can offer you ten dragons apiece now, and I can give you each ten times that when you find Floon. May I prevail upon you in my hour of need?"

Dess, you notice that Volothamp's mannerisms are a little strange, as if he's trying a bit too hard to convince you (Passive Perception).

Felix Powgow clarinetti Cartoonicat findinmyself