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Waterdeep Dragon Heist: PBF Interlude


The Yawning Portal was busier than usual, and Durnan was glad for that. He was as honest a businessman as one could be, paying his workers generous wages and going so far as to ensure their safety by occasionally involving himself any danger that may come up the well built into the tavern’s common room. That well was the only known entrance to the sprawling dungeon underneath called Undermountain; occasionally a monster would emerge from it, but Durnan was prepared; there was a reason he kept his magical greatsword, Grimvault, behind the bar counter.

Durnan glanced around as he cleaned a few steins, soon to be filled with ale or mead. Many adventurers patronized the Yawning Portal, many of the youngest and most inexperienced often being turned away from entering the well into Undermountain. Durnan only allowed experienced adventurer’s down the well, and only if they paid him a fee. Alternatively, adventurers could take up the sponsorship for forays into Undermountain offered by Obaya Uday, a cleric and traveler from the far-off land of Waukeen. Though she wasn’t in tonight.

The usual lot were enjoying a good drink and a hearty meal tonight, all while regaling each other of their exploits, no doubt grossly exaggerated. Unless they were told by Meloon Wardragon, a relatively famous adventurer and not a man to be trifled with.

Bonnie, his lead barmaid serviced drinks and food to tables. “Threestrings” made music from his three-stringed lute in the corner. How he managed to get a serviceable tune out of his instrument always puzzled Durnan. Even more confusing though was why he couldn’t buy new strings? They weren’t that expensive.

Durnan was somewhat surprised to see one of the youngest and newest adventuring parties dining at his establishment this evening. They were an odd bunch: Gwyn Butterscotch, better known as “Cake” to her friends, female tiefling bard whose way with words apparently charmed an entire tavern of dock workers. Arrk, an aarakocra monk who loved drink a bit too much. Elodin Derly, a half-elf warlock who seemed brain addled and left one wondering why he was adventuring in the first place. And a newcomer Durnan had not seen before; the fourth member used to be a warforged skilled in stealth, but he had apparently quit the adventuring life after discovering that he had no taste for it. This new member, a halfling druid named Alder Underbough, seemed familiar, though Durnan could not place him. Then again, in a single day Durnan would meet so many adventuring types that he considered it a bit of a miracle he could remember anyone’s names. The only reason this lot stuck out was that they helped him defend the Yawning Portal from monsters that emerged from the well. They’ve earned his respect.

Durnan approached the table, questions rumbling in his head. Greeting the foursome, Durnan turned his head to Arrk.

“So, what brings you lot here…weren’t you going to open a tavern of your own? And what the hell is this “larduccino” I keep hearing about?”


“The greatest advancement in the field of mixology since they started fermenting berries!” Arrk says. The Aarakocra pulls out a jar with a purple label, it’s nearly half empty at this point. “If you draw me an ale, Durnan, I’d be happy to expand your horizons.”


Durnan eyed Arrk suspiciously before grunting and walking away. Moments later, he returned with a stein filled with one of the Yawning Portal’s most popular ales.

“Impress me.”


“Ahem,” Arrk clears his throat. Most of his more “human” subjects haven’t responded well to this concoction. Except for the old man and Arrk isn’t confident his sense of taste works anymore.

Ryuko adds just a tad of the lard, hoping he’s fine tuned the amount this time.

(Medicine roll if applicable?)

d20: 2 + 3

“Be forewarned, Durnan! You may lack the perfect pallete to appreciate such art.” Arrk says handing the ale back.


Durnan shook the stein in a circular motion, swirling the contents for a bit, a bit unsure if he should drink this. What did Arrk add to this ale? It looked a bit like a purple paste of some sort…

“Meloon! Get over here!”

A bearded figure with a cheery disposition, and adorned in plate mail armor came over.

“Durnan! What does a famous adventurer, and renowned member of Force Grey, have to do to get a drink around here!”

Durnan shoved the stein filled with the strange mixture into Meloon’s hands. “Here you go! Courtesy of Arrk here. These are his friends: “Cake,” Elodin, and Al.” pointing his thumb to each seated figure as he mentioned their names. “Let me know how it tastes!” Durnan grunted as he walked away.

Meloon grinned at the free drink he had gotten. He raised the stein to Arrk. “Cheers!” and made his way to gulp it down…


“Oh no” says Al under his breath.


Elodin wasn’t entirely sure why he was at the bar but he was sure the others would get themselves hurt if he wasn’t around to look after them. He was pondering what the ghost had meant when it spelled ‘ooooo’ in his bowl of Otiluke O’s this morning.

Elodin then heard a bearded fellow talking about the Force Grey and for some reason he couldn’t pin down that reminded him of something.

As the bearded man began drinking one of Arick’s fine beverages Elodin began talking ay him.

"The Force Grey that reminds me of the time I had to take the ferry over to Goldenfields. I needed a new heel for my shoe, so, I decided to go to Silverfields, which is what they called Goldenfields in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a copper, and in those days, coppers had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Give me ten bees for a silverr, you’d say.

Now where were we? Oh yeah the Force Grey you say you work for them? "



Meloon downed the stein of ale mixture in several big gulps, then wiped his mouth, seemingly satisfied. His face seemed to momentarily turn a crimson violet before returning to normal, though he acted like nothing happened.

While he drank Arrk’s debatably foul brew, Elodin was rambling as usual, most likely to himself. However, Meloon did catch Elodin’s question.

“Ah, I see my reputation precedes me! As it should, for I am a famous adventurer! And a prominent member of Force Grey. I of course, I need no introduction to you Mr. Elodin Derly, for I was told about your recruitment into the Grey Hands.” Meloon craned his head close to Elodin, seemingly inspecting him over before drawing back. “Work hard, Elodin! Work hard, and you may gain enough renown to one day be chosen from the Grey Hands to be one of us in Force Grey. And on that day, you will be known as a famous hero, like me!”

“Hero?! I don’t think so! Save something first, will you?” Interrupted Bonnie, who sped over to the table to refill drinks. “So how are you lot paying for your new tavern? Have you secured funding yet?”


Cake cringed watching the lard beverage go down with seemingly no ill effects. She was impressed and disgusted at the same time.

“We’re… working on the funding, isn’t that right, boys?” she looks around at her companions, all settling down to various levels of intoxication. She herself had already gone through a small bottle before entering the tavern. “We got big things coming our way, I’m sure… but in the mean time, got any side jobs or work for us? You’ve seen us do quick work,” she says, hiccuping halfway through, lashing her tail.


“Well i got something i need to take care of before we take on any more jobs. Would be appriecated if you lot helped. but im the new guy so feel no obligation.”


“Of course I’ll help ya, Al, what with you so graciously insisting I take the master bedroom in the tavern, it’s the least I could do,” Cake says, eyes mocking, a toothy fanged smile on her face. She pours a nip of liquor into Alder’s cup, looking a bit too pleased with herself.

“We’re business partners now, buddy. In it to win it, mutual success, and whatnot.” She drains the last of her cup and slams it back down onto the table, bright and playful, and throws a careless, too-rough arm around Elodin’s hunched shoulders.


“Well i got tower access so i think i won anyway.” Alder says as he pounds his drink.


“Well, it sounds like you lot are having fun. If you need help to open your tavern, maybe you’ve made a wealthy friend or two that would be willing to loan you the money? I’m sure you’ll all figure it out.” Bonnie said as she finished refilling everyone’s mugs with freshly tapped ale, and rushing away back to the bar.

Meanwhile, Meloon stood there rather dumbfounded. Bonnie hadn’t refilled his stein, and as little or as much as he tried to hide it, his face showed his frustration at that. He turned from staring at his empty stein back to Elodin. “Well, you heard are the esteemed wisdom of our wonderful, kind waitress. Go save someone or something, and before you know it, you’ll be in the ranks of Force Grey. But for now, serve the Blackstaff well in the Grey Hands. And if you need my help, I’ll probably be here at the Yawning Portal…or elsewhere saving Waterdeep.” And with that, he stomped away.