The wind howled with rage! It screamed down the wide streets, the narrow alleys. It clawed at anyone, at any thing caught outside. It threatens to peel off unpinned hats, unclasped cloaks, even the tightest of garments.
The cold was neigh the icy grip of death! It penetrated deep, sucking vitality, emotion, laughter and joy! it brings only misery and sadness. It dampens the will to live. It crawls through the tiniest gap, the thinnest flap, licking and caressing as only an undead lover can accomplish. Muscles cry out in agony, in pain as the cold freezes the blood, the tissue, even the marrow.
With the wind and cold comes the snow. Large, fat balls of snow fall upon the Realm's only metropolis, Waterdeep. The wind hurls icy wet balls into walls, the street, lamp posts, armor, and faces, all them and more. The snow clings to any and all, soaking building, barrel, and person alike. Lord and Lady, commoner and slave, elf or human, the snow, the cold, and the wind do not care who it affects. This weather simply is.
Lords and Ladies do not venture out of their large mansions, their miniature fortresses, their warm domiciles. For to venture out was to taste the chill of Death. Yet the commoner, the slave, those without, have no choice but to endure. For the only other option, is death. Snow, wind and cold haunt the streets, striking without warning, a serial killer stalking victims at whim. Those that must venture the streets, slip from building to building, seeking to avoid that which roams openly the roads and pathways of the large city. They flit about, moving with purpose, ignoring others, seeking that little bit of food, of item, to sustain them.
The Lords on high, the Lords of Waterdeep, dispatch messengers, missives to the masses. The message answers a few questions, but leaves more. It reads
Residents of Waterdeep,
Know that the court wizards have probed this storm for magical interference. The priests have divined the essence of this winter blizzard. These sages have conferred, and report that this storm is not the work of some magical entity. This storm is of nature herself.
A massive tropical storm has swept in off the Sea of Swords, and, as luck would have it, the cold north seems to have reached far to the south, far enough to plunge our fair city with it's icy grip! This cataclysm of natural events has writ large the effects upon our city fare!
The young woman struggles to raise her voice over the commotion within the common room of the Yawning Portal, her high pitch making the final sentence from the Lords sound terrifying instead of reassuring.
Yet, for as cold as it was outside, inside the Yawning portal, it was warm and thriving! travelers from near and far intermingled with residents of waterdeep. A place that normally held entertainment and enjoyment for all who came now provided much needed warmth (and food)! Men and Women, old and young, and those in between, Elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings, aasimars and tieflings, they packed in, drinking warming liquids, eating the best that the Inn could offer. Games were held every where. Dice rolling, dart and knife throwing. On the stage set in the back, bards would try their hand at telling the tall tales.
And yet, for the Balanced Coin, time at the Yawning Portal Inn has not been one of idleness and comradery. Instead, it has been one of work. Hard work. Cold work.
The Yawning Portal is Waterdeep's most popular inn. And the most popular inn needs food. needs liquor. Needs firewood.
the storm has seriously hampered its ability to get fresh supplies.
The Balanced Coin had no sooner arrived at the inn than a rather portly house Mistress had pressed them into service.
The cold has either driven off or killed my runners. The inn needs provisions, otherwise the patrons will begin to die off. or worse, leave she had said.
the job was easy enough. go to point A, gather items, bring back to the Inn. Go back out, head to point B, bring back, repeat.
It was the cold, the snow, the wind, the desperate that was the hard part.
Cold froze the axles of the wagons. Snow drifts hampered movement, making easy routes difficult, or impossible to navigate. The wind threatened to topple the wagon and all of you. The desperate were the worst. You have a job to do, and unfortunately you cannot help everyone. And worse, Mistress Pol, knew exactly how much meat and mead, bread and beer, leeks and liquor, was ordered, and expected to be delivered. i do care about those less fortunate, but i care more about the fortunate that are here, now, and paying She broke no deviation.
For three days, you hauled in the cold, the wind, the snow. In return, you received free room and board. Your food was the hottest, your blankets the snuggest (though the rooms were nothing more than servant rooms).
However, today was different. today was your day off. or your job pause? youre not sure. Mistress Pol had said simply Go spend some time in the common room. enjoy yourself. If i need you, i shall call you
so now, you sit in the middle of the common room, the loudness of commotion as everyone tries to talk to everyone, trying to be louder than everyone else, resulting in a communal roar of noise. The fireplace burned hot, yet it was the press of the masses that provided the warmth. The wooden beams set into the walls, supporting the ceiling, gleamed a brilliant brown sheen from polish. Windows had been covered with rich red blankets, blocking out the harshest of the cold that creeps in through the windows.
overall, the atmosphere was cozy, given what was going on outside. For though the coldness of Death roams the roadways, the warmth of community was strong within the Yawning Portal.
For three days, you hauled in the cold, the wind, the snow. In return, you received free room and board. Your food was the hottest, your blankets the snuggest (though the rooms were nothing more than servant rooms).
However, today was different. today was your day off. or your job pause? youre not sure. Mistress Pol had said simply, "go spend some time in the common room. Enjoy yourself. If I need you, I shall call you."
"Ah, good. This will give me a chance to practice AND hopefully make some more coin."
Vondel "Silvertongue' Goldbeard pulls out a beautiful gittern out of his shabby sack on his back, and begins to play, an empty bowl for people to put some cold coin in.
Ceirn sat with his mead and listened to the din of the room and wondered when the biting cold would end. After a bit he speaks to no one in particular, "I am not sure I trust that missive. It seems to me if there was a danger to the city, the lords would be just as willing to lie about it to stop the citizens from panicking."
Astrillith sits close to a window, opening the curtain now and then and looks out over the streets of Waterdeep. The cold almost barren landscape. Her green eyes almost glinting as she does so. Then slowly she closes it again, not wanting to be reprimanded by almost everyone present.
She turns to crowd and speaks, mostly to herself "This seems a good place to watch the hand of death reach across the city. It is good to see people realise that there is more and a miss step can take your comfort from you" her dry tone ever present as she thumbs her holy symbol
Sitting with Ceirn and Astrillith, Gaelden watched the godling perform. Despite his crass personality and unwelcome advances, she had to concede that the dwarf was quite proficient at...well, anything that came to performing. Regardless of his motivations, he brought cheer when the howling wind outside battled against his efforts. For what it was worth, she appreciated his efforts.
"Whether they are lying or not, this weather is an ill omen." She said. "A dragon or an eye tyrant? They can be fought with one's hands. But the weather?" She shook her head. "Just as many innocents can perish. And I dislike the feeling of helplessness that comes from a natural calamity."
The grimspawn slowly turns her head towards Gaelden, as she then begins to speak "Death does come for us all, even those who seek to avoid it. The cold outside is just a reminder that no matter how much we try, certain things will never be our to command." she tilts her head a bit to the side as she listens to the music being played "Though how we embrace the inevitable does speak to one's soul.
Her eyes stray to her companion, Pac "Do not worry my friend, your meal will come. Once we capture it. You prefer fresh meals when it can be obtained.
"You speak of helplessness, but we are never truly helpless." Kolaiah's deep voice, though hushed in the bustle of the common room, carried a quiet authority as she leaned forward slightly, the massive greatsword hanging over her shoulder swaying with the motion. Her large, muscular frame filled much of the space around her, and the warmth of the room did little to mask the fire in her golden eyes. She tilted her head slightly, her horns catching the light, the long, curled brown and white hair shifting with the motion.
"It is not the weather that causes helplessness, but the fear of the unknown. We cannot fight the cold, the snow, or the wind. But we can face them with strength... and with purpose." She paused, her strong hooves tapping the floor rhythmically, echoing her thoughts.
"There are worse things to face than the storm outside. I have faced labyrinths that threaten to swallow the soul, yet I would still choose them over the empty feeling that comes from inaction." Her hands, calloused and strong, wrapped around her greatsword's hilt as she briefly glanced out the window, her eyes narrowing as if focusing on a distant target.
"This city, this place, may be gripped by the cold, but those who brave the Yawning Portal are braver still. I have heard whispers of Undermountain." She tilted her head back, the gleaming metal of her plate armor catching the firelight. "A labyrinth of endless mystery. Treasure and danger in equal measure. What better place to prove one's mettle?" She grinned, a fierce but thoughtful expression on her face.
"I have wandered far and wide, seen cities, and faced dangers, but this place... Waterdeep, and its depths... they are a challenge worthy of the Balanced Coin." She stood up, her armor scraping slightly as she rose, before giving a firm nod to her companions.
"When the storm outside becomes too much to bear, let us seek adventure within. There, at least, we know what we face. And I do not believe we are helpless there."
"Underground? Out of this wind and snow and blasted...weather?
Jambreth sits as far away as possible from the window, hood pulled up and cloak drawn forward over his shoulders.
"Undermountain? Deadly dungeon full of the loot of earlier hapless individuals, plus whatever is buried there before? Count me in. Or, if there's a Winter Witch or cursed Baron or something we can take care of to nix this cold front, I'm in for that."
Wrapping his long fingers around the mug of warmed hard cider in front of him, he grins down the table.
"Always up for a little 'delving."
Vondal concentrates on his playing. The aasimar sighs inwardly, remembering that the sexy minotaur can be long-winded at times. The dwarf's handsome ears prick up when the elf speaks of delves.
"I guess underground is also a good place to hunt and to meet ones end. Saves me time to bury you" she states as if it was a fact and it was simply like saying water is wet
"Riches come and go. But I guess again that we will need to go find those riches"
She seems to look each of her companions up and down for a moment before she speaks again "What do you wish to do with your shares?"
Ignoring the gallows talk, Gaelden shrugged. ”It is somewhat early to count our gold, is it not?” She responded. Then, with a smile she added ”All that I carry belongs to Tyr. Whatever my shares, it will be used in his name. For the crusade is eternal.” Shaking her head, she added ”So as always, I must give you the same boring answer.”
"How would we even get to this Undermountain. I doubt the Lords of Waterdeep have an open path in and out of a dungeon with who knows what lurking inside. We would probably need to get one of them to send us down. Its probably some kind of racket from the doppelgangers in the government." Ceirn says with a nod of his head.
The grimspawn turns her head to look at Cairn, as she replies
"We could simply request? Doppelganger or not. It should be a simple matter to fill any any paperwork required or jump through any legalistic hoops. If it was such a secret place, I do not think mere adventurers as ourselves would know of its existence"