Aesh's HC-Waterdeep: Dragon Heist [5e Adventurers League] - Fall Table (Inactive)

Game Master Tareth

While Unmei and Bhoors debate next steps and Dacknar finishes one last pint, Reuleaux continues to concentrate on and ponder the stone. His small hand rests upon the odd looking green rock while his eyes seem to glaze over and stare off into the distance. A bit of drool forms upon his lower lip, slowly stretches and finally drops down the front of his still ocean damp tunic. Occasionally a leg, arm, or cheek twitches but overall this is the quietest and most still you've ever seen the gnome since you've met. Perhaps more disconcerting is the complete and utter silence and lack of movement from any of his numerous contraptions and devices.

For some reason the only thing that came to mind was his Academy name from years ago in the High Sprockets Club "McKracken. Snaps McKracken."

Bhoors continues idle chit chat with the others every once in awhile looking toward Reuleaux. He notes the drool. Then the spasms. A growing cloud of concern, "You still with us Ray?"

Bhoors moves to the small gnome and shakes him, "Ray!" Bhoors picks the gnome up from his chair and sets him on a table so he is a little higher. The bard tries to look into the gnomes eyes and pops him a few times on the check with a slight slap. He turns to Unmei, "Something is wrong." His face grows alarmed as he failed to steady the gnome who almost falls face first off the table. "Whoa. There."

"Snaps McKracken???" Bhoors eyes shift back and forth as he runs through what the phrase could mean. "Have you ever heard of Snaps McKracken?" The bard shakes the gnome again, "Who's Snaps McKracken . . . is that who hurt you?"

Dipping his skull mug in the warmed bee's wax to seal it. Then he gets to work on the handle and base.
Survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

But using too much heat cracks the skull.

"By all the god of the sea! After a good rest I am going to need to look for a new skull."

As the line of drool strikes Reu's vest a little alarm clock dings, and something very much like a windshield wiper blade comes up across his stupified face. He groans as if drugged or very distant, his eyes still solid white "I...I am...Snaps McKracken..." he manages to stammer out piecemeal.

~~~~

Meanwhile, inside... "Ah yes, alphabetical would be the obvious choice but of course you are a power of discretion -- so you would certainly prefer a hierarchical method of information organization. I shall therefore begin with the Poynting Flux Vector before its transmissive importance to acousto-optical rarefaction. Its ratio to the energy density has the surprising units of velocity, yet..." and so on and so forth the powerhouse gnome is happy to discourse.

Unmei, still drunk, tries her best not to laugh: "This is normal no? I mean, it's Ray we're talking about... Or should I say Snaps..."

She pretends not to hear Dacknar, but deep down, she's deeply saddened, and grossed.

"Maybe." Bhoors moves the gnome back to his chair. "Maybe he's just a loud and sound sleeper."

Bhoors slumps in his chair. "Well if we are resting who's on watch? I can take First?"

"Are we resting? We just said we needed to get with J. No, we need to stay moving, and in public places. In fact, why don't we skip J and just go straight to the Open Lord with the stone? We'll need to wake Snaps up though..."

What time of Day is it?

"Staying in the open might help. My swords work but I've no healing left. I thought Drak had suggested resting."

"Jalester I think can get us past the front gate. I'm not sure we can get heard."

He looks over at the gnome, "I am kinda worried about that. Is this wholesome?"

"So we're listening to Dack's suggestions now?" Unmei says, looking at the barbarian brooding over his broken skull drinkware.

After a pause, she turns back to Bhoors with heavy eyes and says: "Thing is, we don't know that we have the time to rest... If we rest, but get attacked, then we won't rest and won't be ready for an attack... That's confusing... My point is, I believe moving, being in public, and meeting with Jalester, as you suggest, might be our best at staying alive. But sleeping here is fine too, I guess..."

"Agreed. What about the gnome."

The debate of what to do next continues will into the evening as does Reuleaux's ongoing communion, or whatever it may be, with the stone.

You all gain the benefit of a short rest. Reuleaux is now attuned to the stone.

To summarize just a bit, you have a few options open right now.
1. You have the stone, which is supposed to hold the map/location/info regarding where the massive treasure is hidden. You could tap it and try to grab the treasure yourselves.
2. You could simply hand the stone over to Jalester and the city government. Who knows what they might do with it or ask you to do.
3. Try to use the stone to bargain your way out of any retribution or enemies you may have made among the drow mercenary company. Again, it's up in the air what they might do or how they might react.
4. Try to destroy the stone. This would probably take a little research, but is doable given time. Of course, who knows might come looking while you work on it.
5. Something else that you all come up with.

To be honest, the adventure makes some big assumptions here and kind of does some serious railroading, at least that is how it reads to me. Since I'm not a fan of that, I'm leaving things more open for you all, so we'll see how it all goes.

Thanks for this DM, it helps me a lot!

Unmei looks at Bhoors: "Right... Ray Snaps... Let's see first if we can get him to his feet. I bet Dacknar can carry him if needed."

She moves over to the Gnome and tries to see what she can do to help him.

Medicine: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Due to the short rest Dacknar will use 2 hit dice to recover hit points
hit points recovered: 2d12 + 6 ⇒ (10, 6) + 6 = 22 So now I have 34 HP.

Dacknar stumbles over and grabs hold of Ray, to toss him over his shoulder.

Athletics: 1d20 ⇒ 15
Disanvantage due to exhaustion: 1d20 ⇒ 2

Dacknar gets a good hold of him pulling Ray up, and then his strength falters, and he tumbles over and on top of Ray.

The exhaustion is what is hurting me, and I think Ray has a level as well.

Time of day is late evening. Say 9:00pm at this point.

Don't think there's an easy 2nd level cleric spell to remove exhaustion, is there?

"Right. I guess we rest, but let's rig some alarms first perhaps?" Unmei says as she sees Dacknar almost drop their Gnome friend.

"It's the push ups..." she says to Dacknar with a lazy hand on his cheek and a drunken smile on her face.

Exhaustion is no joke, takes Greater Restoration or a Potion of Vitality (which is rare). Nothing else but long rest, afaik.

"Well, for humanitarian reasons of course. Advances in understanding provided by experiment and analysis, or indeed your lexicon, combined with the technology created through engineering and innovation can solve any problem that plagues society. It will save us from each other and ourselves, is my view. The greatest power of the gods is not omnipotence nor omnipresence, but omniscience. And though my simple gnomish brain can never reach the levels as one such as yourself, it is the striving for that ideal which gives this Material phase its meaning." he responds.

~~~~

Reu continued to stare into space oddly, but a gurgling sound rumbled suddenly from his stomach "...gugggngh...Snaps...hungry...Snaps...need...fried cod." so placing his dinner request.

"I guess he's sleeping?"

Bhoors assists in setting up whatever alarms Unmei is thinking of. "I can take first watch."

"You're a dear. See you tomorrow then. I'll check on the youngsters before going to bed."

Unmei goes to see the urchins in the basement and will end up sleeping among them, rigging some bells by the door. Safety in numbers...

Dacknar wanders off to bed and dreams of crafting the perfect mug from the skulls of his vanquished enemies. Bhoors and Unmei set alarms to potentially warn of any intruders and soon enough Unmei heads downstairs to watch over her charges who are all quite sound asleep.

With the others gone to bed and staff gone for the night, Bhoors is left with the quietly mumbling and muttering gnome. The rambling word salad that escapes the wizards lips a quiet lullaby for the tired and bruised bard. Soon enough it is time for the next watch with no intrusions or invasions of drow, Zhents, Xants, or any other nefarious folk seeking the stone.

The night passes uneventfully. Reuleaux, just to let you know, you aren't trapped by Golorr or anything. You may discontinue the conversation at any time. It's just eager for information and interaction and never gets tired. :)

Stumbling up the steps to his room. he makes his way to his bed, leaning his weapons near the bed and picks up Mr. Snuggy that has very ruff stitches where the dagger made the holes. And he looks lovingly at it saying.
"Revenge was served to night, We still have a chance on getting a trophy. But for now you can sleep well that I got the ones who harmed you. Because no one harms my family."
He tucks the owlbear teddy bear into bed and lays down next to it. Dacknar drifts off to sleep dreaming of he and Mr. Snuggy sailing on a pirate ship drinking rum from skull mugs.

He wakes up refreshed to stand for his time at the watch so no harm comes to the group he has come to look at as friends.

Reu seemed quite content to chat with the Stone forever, but finally a few hours after midnight his stomach and exhaustion finally got the best of him and crashed out on the couch.

Immediately after shutting his eyes he sat straight up, thinking to wake Bhoors and explain everything. But again, the heavy toll of the day was too much, and he reclined in a deep sleep.

The day dawns dreary and gray once again. A dense fog has moved into the city giving everything a cold, damp feel on top of the usual aroma of so many souls crowded within the great walls of the city. Another typical autumn day in Waterdeep.

Except today the broadsheet boys cry out about gruesome murders in the Dock Ward. At least two drow found headless, a third brutally covered with acid burns. The news of drow lurking in the city is alarming enough to many good folk, but the fact some killer is going around beheading the creatures is perhaps of greater concern for others. Or a fact some actually cheer. Already opposing publishers are taking sides in what is quickly being labeled the Headhunter Killings. With some seeing the killer as an out of control maniac taking the law into his or her own hands and who will soon enough move beyond killing drow to other races. Others label the killer as a hero, defending the city from this dark threat. Doing the job that the Watch clearly can't.

For the Watch's part. Chief Inspector Barnabus Blastwind is quoted saying "We've got three men in custody. But none appear to be the actual killer. Honestly, they simply aren't bright or tough enough to have beaten what are clearly three seasoned assassins. No, whoever do this wanted us focused elsewhere. But mark my words, we'll find them. Then it'll be up to the courts and the Open Lord to decide what to do with them then. In the meantime, anyone who saw anything unusual within the Dock Ward Coin Alley and Lackpurse Lane should contact us right away."

Still other rumors running like wildfire through the city speculate a rogue band of gnomes are involved. A Grinda Garloth, local resident of the docks is profiled in The Daily Rattler. "I saw it clear as the nose on your face. T'was made to look like a Dragon Turtle and just appeared right at that dock yonder where they found that dead dark elf. I could just make 'em out through the fog. A bunch o' them gnomes were crawlin' around on top, then they ducked inside and dove right back into the sea. Damn menace those creatures, if you ask me. Not a good mechanic among the whole lot. Just undisciplined tinkers is all they are."

With breakfast cooling on the table, there's a loud knock on the front door.

"Open up!" Shouts a tired, angry voice that you recognize as Chief Inspector Blastwind from your earlier interviews following the fireball explosion in the alley. More banging. "Open up! This is the City Watch and we've got questions for Reuleaux of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors!"

Sipping his coffee "They probably mean that other Reuleaux of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors. *tsk* Always getting us confused." smacking on a crispy little bacon-slice.

"Um are we explaining our way through Blastwind. Or starting with Jalester and going from there. If we are going to Jalester we need to go now and get out of here without getting caught."

"Starting with someone who knows what our predicament was to begin with might be safer."

Putting down his fork Dacknar stomps over to the door and opens it. Trying to smile nicely to the watch chief.
"We are in the middle of breakfast Could you just come back after we are done eating?"
Dacknar just stands there smiling while blocking and holding the door.

Persuasion: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1

Being nice works well for for everyone else.

Unmei was about to enjoy discussing the news with her companions, but when she hears the Watch at the door, Unmei stays silent and, like a shade hugs the walls and hurries to find the broken skull to hide it.

Stealth: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

The day dawns dreary and gray once again. A dense fog has moved into the city giving everything a cold, damp feel on top of the usual aroma of so many souls crowded within the great walls of the city. Another typical autumn day in Waterdeep.

Except today the broadsheet boys cry out about gruesome murders in the Dock Ward. At least two drow found headless, a third brutally covered with acid burns. The news of drow lurking in the city is alarming enough to many good folk, but the fact some killer is going around beheading the creatures is perhaps of greater concern for others. Or a fact some actually cheer. Already opposing publishers are taking sides in what is quickly being labeled the Headhunter Killings. With some seeing the killer as an out of control maniac taking the law into his or her own hands and who will soon enough move beyond killing drow to other races. Others label the killer as a hero, defending the city from this dark threat. Doing the job that the Watch clearly can't.

For the Watch's part. Chief Inspector Barnabus Blastwind is quoted saying "We've got three men in custody. But none appear to be the actual killer. Honestly, they simply aren't bright or tough enough to have beaten what are clearly three seasoned assassins. No, whoever do this wanted us focused elsewhere. But mark my words, we'll find them. Then it'll be up to the courts and the Open Lord to decide what to do with them then. In the meantime, anyone who saw anything unusual within the Dock Ward Coin Alley and Lackpurse Lane should contact us right away."

Still other rumors running like wildfire through the city speculate a rogue band of gnomes are involved. A Grinda Garloth, local resident of the docks is profiled in The Daily Rattler. "I saw it clear as the nose on your face. T'was made to look like a Dragon Turtle and just appeared right at that dock yonder where they found that dead dark elf. I could just make 'em out through the fog. A bunch o' them gnomes were crawlin'...

Beautiful post. Thanks, I really enjoyed it.

Bhoors sighs. "So not hiding and running. Tymora bless us." He looks at the gnome, "Are you hiding or are you staying here."

Blastwind stands at the door staring at Dacknar, his hair damp in the morning mist. A thin wisp of smoke drifts up from the pipe perched between his lips. His eyes glare at the half orc who still blocks the doorway. A weathered hand grabs the pipe and gestures back toward the tables well behind Dacknar.

"Oh! I'm so terribly sorry. He rude of us to disturb your morning repast." He says. The sarcasm dripping from the words like the rain dripping from his cloak. "Why yes, I'm sure we can return at a later hour. After all we wouldn't want anything as minor as a few murder investigations to get in the way of your breakfast. No we wouldn't want that would we sergeant?" He adds looking back toward his assistant, whose name you remember was Cromley.

"No sir!" Hollers Cromely with a wry grin.

"What would be a good time for us to return do you think Sergeant Cromley?" Blastwind continues.

"I don't know sir. Probably not around lunchtime would be my guess sir. Or supper. Certainly not tea time sir, as I'm guessing the good citizen likes his crumpets sir. Dinner is certainly out..."

Nodding at the sergeant's expanding list, Blastwind's eyes never cease glaring at Dacknar as he holds up a hand stopping the sergeant mid-word.
His next words come out quiet and cold.

"The Law doesnt give a rat's tit about your meal times or what's convenient for your delicate constitution." He growls. "This is Watch business and you'll step aside or I'll have everyone in this house arrested and sent to the mines on charges of obstruction, withholding evidence and anything else I can think up, including murder."

So at this point are we assuming that Ray did not hide or get away?

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Sorry kind of busy for a few hours today, but no Reu is just sitting there eating breakfast not concerned.

"Good morning. Good sirs. A pleasant day to you. How can we help?" He walks over with a warm smile. He listens a moment and nods.

"Oh Reuleaux of the Watchful Order. Well I would imagine that his report would go to leaders within the Watchful Order. He is a member after-all in good standing and well committed to the people of our fair city. He is also needed elsewhere this morning as we all have business to attend today and cannot see to that business without the gnome's presence."

Persuasion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Insight: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19 Given our missing guard. Is there anything that seems suspect here?

Sorry for slowing things down with questions. But did we get the impression from Jalester that he was official in some capacity? Or just another good adventurer with more connections than us? Like "we have business with Jalester" would mean something to the guards or would it be meaningless or something he wanted us to keep secret. Also I went back and it wasn't listed (perhaps we failed to ask) how to get back in contact with Jalester.

Bhoors: You aren't exactly certain about Jalasters official status. He is certainly not part of the Watch. But the coin he gave you obviously worked at the courthouse. Could be a special branch or unique department set up by the Open Lord.

As for getting in contact, no I don't think anyone asked. It was more of an 'I'll get in touch with you.' You also know he spends much of his free time at the Yawning Portal.

Bhoors pulls out the coin and holds it up. "Important business. For certain. I hope you understand."

Unmei remains out of sight for the moment. She hides her necklace of fireball with the skull, then goes to peek and see if the back door is being watched.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Taking a glance over the shoulder of Blastwind.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Dacknar places his right hand to the side of his nose. then smiles and moves aside to let the watch in to the pub.
"Come in, come in. Your people outside will be safe...for now."

Dacknar smiles to himself Let him think that anyone barging into our place might be harmed...hehe

Unmei glances out the back door and sees nothing but the usual foot traffic. The blacksmiths shop down the street taking delivery of some iron, a drunk passed out under an awning across the way. Two servant women hurrying along to the market square. All looks completely normal and ordinary.

At the front door, Dacknar finds his view blocked as Blastwind steps inside, continuing to give the half orc a suspicious glare. But soon enough his gaze lands on Reuleaux. Striding over to the gnome, followed by the ever present Cromley, Blastwind pulls a thick set of folded up papers from inside his robe and drops them on the table in front of the gnome. The blue paper is stamped with the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors logo and seems to be dated yesterday.

Reuleaux immediately recognizes the handwriting and report as his own, the one he filled out regarding the unfortunate loss of the dragon turtle. Blastwind looks down at the gnome. A thin smile upon his lips as he points a long, bony finger at the report.

"Are you the author of this report?" He asks Reuleaux, then waves his hand dismissively. "Never mind that, I already know you are. What I want to know, is what you were doing there and everything you saw at that dock yesterday."

"Greetings, Chief Inspector! Crumpet?" he offers one of the irresistible small griddle cakes. "Ah yes, the unfortunate scuttling of the Dragon Turtle. I'm glad my request was received. Was a fine ship...if only they'd used bronze bearings instead of steel." taking another sip of coffee, reflecting. "So, you wish to hear more? Well, as you know I was tasked to retrieve 'the artifact'..." he goes on to explain how he initially tracked it down to the drow and the tower and rigged the ceiling to collapse. Then (and with long winded descriptions of his fantastic arcano-techno-gadgetry) chased the offending dark elves across the city, sparing no detail as he goes on with a precise account the maritime adventure under the sea.

Sparing no detail save one: when the bolt blew out of its threads from pressure and squarely knocked him in the center of the forehead. But whether omitted for embarrassment or amnesia, it isn't clear.

Reuleaux dives into the details of the prior days events with Sergeant Cromley scribbling furiously in his little notebook as Blastwind listens. About halfway through the gnomes droning dissertation, the inspector notices Bhoors holding the coin given to him by Jalester. With a frown he takes the coin from the bard and gives it a careful inspection including holding it up to a small gemstone attached to the badge of office pinned to his neck. When he does so the stone turns a pale silver color.

Handing the coin back to Bhoors, he returns to Reuleaux and his tale until the gnome finally reaches the end.

Folding his arms and leaning back in the chair he looks back and forth between everyone in the room, then brings his gaze back onto Reuleaux. "So you openly admit to the killing of two drow mercenaries. Members of Bregan D'aerthe, if our information is correct. The first in the tower, the second via acid and a drop from a height. Did you also kill the third? And why, may I ask, did you decide to take the heads of two of these mercenaries?"

"Someone took their heads, What a horrible thing to do. Maybe who ever it was thought that dark elves would come back from the dead with Lolth's blessing. But that is just superstitious hog wash if you ask me. Loth cares only for Loth and not for those little devils if ye ask me. I got word that a crew down on the docks, that are playing dumb did it. You should go and talk to them."
Deception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13
and he smiles at the Captain.

Bhoors smiles and seeks to put things in perspective, "Good sirs, as Reuleaux has confirmed it was indeed a battle a tough one. We are glad to still be here. Our business was targeted as the gnome has confirmed. We had not chance track what happened with each stroke of our blades just that our blades were aimed at foes who attempted to kill us as we went about our assignment." He takes a breath letting the statement of the chaos of battle ruminate. "The battlefield shifted and in the course of things no we can't account for every wayward appendage chopped free or drow . . .melon that left the vine if it were." He shrugs, "Its also worth noting that there are less wicked mercenaries wandering alleyways this morning. I hope that it is noted that such villains are no longer free to cause harm counts for something more than the ballyhoo of the scandal of finding a few bodies shorter than they were in life."

From downstairs, Unmei slaps her forehead silently as Reuleaux spills the beans without skipping a beat, but Dacknar and Bhoors seemed to make a good show, and the Gnome was law enforcement after all.

Keeping the backdoor cracked, Unmei continues to listen while pondering her options.

Unmei, very sorry to ruin a plan. I never got the low down on wtf you guys were doing...Reu and me as a player has no idea who Jalester is etc.

Unmei, very sorry to ruin a plan. I never got the low down on wtf you guys were doing...Reu and me as a player has no idea who Jalester is etc.

I love it! I'm just playing Unmei. These situations are wonderful, whichever way they turn the tide around. Sorry if it came out as though I was complaining. I am not.

Ah, alrighty then. :) Was worried I messed something up.

Blastwind leans back rubbing his tired eyes with his fingers. For a moment it is clear how much of a toll recent events have taken upon the inspector. So many questions, so many different stories, angles to pursue, political and underworld games being played. But as quickly as it appeared, the moment of tiredness is gone. Replaced once again by the stern-faced, duty-driven, Chief Inspector.

"Indeed, I do not mourn the death of three mercenary drow who undoubtedly earned the right to perish by the sword long, long ago." He says. "However, these deaths have unfortunately left a mess in my streets and created a sensation for the ever-voracious broadsheets and their readers. This means something must be done and someone must pay." He emphasizes those last words in his best imitation of a typical speech by some political sycophant.

He nods to the coin still held by Bhoors. "That little trinket will keep you out of jail for a little while, but don't depend on it being effective forever." He drums his hand upon the table. The ratta-tat-tat of his fingertips pacing his thoughts. "I know all about the hunt for the gold stolen by the previous Open Lord. It's on the tongue of nearly every stooly, two-bit gangster, and half-witted charlatan in town. Not to mentioned the more refined crooks in the castle."

"I also know one of the last people connected to this lost hoard of dragons, was coming right here, until some fool blew him up with a fireball." The fingers continue their rapping tapping. "More bodies with your names stamped on them like a two-bit nib."

"I've got confessions to open killings within the city. Ties to a firebombing that killed innocent bystanders. Yet to be substantiated rumors of a break in at a nobles residence...we're working on getting those substantiated...and who knows what else as the digging continues. There's still a lot of questions surrounding a flooding incident in the Trade Ward. Apparently caused by dead bodies blocking up the sewer. Probably the work of Hog and his bunch." He adds with an eye toward Dacknar.

The fingers stop rapping, the silence suddenly deafening as a smile pours across his face.

"So here's what I'm going to do." He says. "All of this can be spun one of two ways. Young heroes helping the hard-working members of the watch and doing their best to recover what rightfully belongs to the city and keeping such a treasure from falling into the hands of crooks and gangs."

"Or a new gang doing its best to rub out the competition and take control of the underworld by being the first to find and steal a treasure consisting of the hard-earned taxes of every good citizen in Waterdeep, who're brought to justice by ever hard-working members of the watch."

He taps his pipe against the table, proceeds to stuff it with some new leaf. Once satisfied, he lights a taper from the table candle and puts it to the pipe. As a cloud of smoke erupts he lets out a relaxed sigh.

"If you wish to make option one work, then you'll need to find the gold and make sure it makes it safely back to the treasury. Option two...well...I could make that work right now." He puffs on the pipe. "But I'm a fair man and I'd like to see that money returned to the city. So I'll give you forty-eight hours to find the gold and secure it. After that, there'll be warrants for your arrest, because above all, the crowd must have its justice."

"Inspector we are happy to work with the city. We already are. We have been working Option 1 since before you dangled it." He pauses a moment, "Jumping to assumptions on destination of the victim of an attack seems a dubious start. Open killings? You have open killings everyday. The victim isn't some fool who turned down a rough alley tough. This was clearly the killing of murderous drow in self defense. Trying to pin every crime you have yet to nail every crime you have evidence gaps in on a single group when your own findings show that the entire city is a buzz is dishonest and I would expect more from you. Now we have every intent to keep our mission which already was to see the city restored its treasure."

"Let me offer another narrative. Knowing your goal here is political. Given the recent string of crimes and the open gang war in the streets. The wise men of the watch have turned to specialized agents. Agents who have saved citizens from kidnapping, found, exposed and decimated violent mercenaries with ties to the most gruesome enemies to all free folk in the realms. Such a step might be lauded as wise. In keeping with the finest traditions of Waterdeep city whose history is full of adventurers and heroes ready to take up just cause. A city openly ruled by adventurers. Such an aspirational story don't you think. It might favor ones career to spin his tale in the direction of what makes our city great."

persuasion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21