DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games LMP: Lost Mines of Phandelver Z-Intro-Driftwood Inn

DM (MikeD, Pandemonium, Neptune, Exeter, Kenseg)

The Driftwood Tavern in Neverwinter is both an inn and tavern that caters mainly to longtime locals. Madame Rosene takes pride in having kept its doors open since before the Spellplague. When the cataclysm struck, innkeeper Madame Rosene, a serious woman now in her late fifties, sheltered refugees within her walls. The Driftwood offered people a makeshift city hall and gathering place during the troubled years.



Madame Rosene and her regulars have filled the inside of the tavern with bric-a-brac, curios, and relics of Neverwinter before its fall. The statue from a favorite fountain stands in a corner. A wineseller’s planter boxes, filled with flowers, brighten the walls. A knob and a knocker from a noble’s estate are attached to the privy door. Ornate doors pulled from the wreckage make fine tables; unbroken panes of stained glass hang overhead as chandeliers, lit by hundreds of carefully placed candles. Though the decorations have been salvaged from all over the city, the tavern does not feel junky, and no one thinks Madame Rosene is taking advantage of Neverwinter’s fall. Quite the opposite—the Driftwood is considered a monument to old Neverwinter, like a dusty painting of a beautiful girl hanging above the deathbed of an aged noblewoman.

Prices for room and board at the tavern are high. The atmosphere is one of quiet reflection, rather than boisterous merriment. The Mintarn mercenaries stay away, preferring to eat and drink at the Moonstone Mask or some other cheaper place. Visitors to the city stop at the Driftwood to marvel at the museum of objects, or to learn about old Neverwinter from Madame Rosene for the (expensive) price of a drink and a meal.

You have been asked to meet up with Gundren Rockseeker here. Gundren is a dwarf and a friend. He has promised you work.


Madame Rosene is engaged in an animated discussion with a turbaned, Calishite merchant sitting at the bar. A few stools over are a pair of middle-aged humans. The larger of the two is wearing beige satin robes and the smaller man, who is bald, is wearing dark pants with a matching vest that covers all but the collar and arms of his white shirt. Both look well to do. The bartender serving them is a large, serious man - the type you want on your side in a brawl. A pair of tinker gnomes, male and female, are drinking together at the far end of the bar and they're talking to a bubbly barmaid. Eight common-folk scattered about at three different tables are eating meals and chatting. Each small group seems to be by themselves, people who came in for a quiet, midday repast. Sitting in a far corner of the taproom are three dwarves drinking with vigor. On the other side of the room are an unusual pair. An elven woman with a remarkable looking bow rests against the table while a quiver is strapped to her back. Next to her is a large half-orc, a sword almost 6 feet long rests on the chair next to him. The half-orc is wearing black leather armor that is darker than the night.

Into this scene several people wander in...

A dragonborn, 3 humans, and a halfling. They all come in within a few moments of each other. It's as if they were all told to be here at the same time.

Balthazar




The first person coming through the doors into the darker interior of the Driftwood is a tall, spare young man in his twenties. He has longish brown hair swept back from hazel eyes that have a look of deep intelligence in them as he looks the crowd over as if seeking someone in particular. He is dressed in a green doublet over a white shirt with a silver chain at his throat and a dagger at his belt. He carries a blackthorn staff in his hands, worn and etched with faint runes.

Evidently not seeing whomever he was looking for, Balthazar moved toward the bar to place an order and wait for his contact.

<Bern>



Stepping into the dim lit interior, the man stepped to the side to scan the room while letting his eyes adjust to the darker interior. His eyes lingered on the bow of the elven woman.

He walked casually toward them, stopping a polite distance away, he bowed. In decent ... for a human ... Elvish said, "Pardon my intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice the magnificent weapon you have and was wondering if you might permit a closer inspection."

Lingo
The halfling strolled into the inn like he belonged there. He was just a hair under three feet tall, and had a nice bush of hair growing atop his feet. His hair was black. His eyes were black and his clothes all matched.

Gundren wasn't here yet, which was alright. It gave him the opportunity to mill about and get to know people.

And he was thirsty. So he saddled up to the bar, next to the rich Calishite, and tossed a silver piece onto the bar, "Hey pal," he called out to the burly barkeep, "can I get a beer? I'm waiting for Gundren. Do you know Gundren Rockseeker?"

Ryssa Noman



A slim human female of medium height entered and paused for a moment just inside the door, her gaze moving across the room. Her hair was light brown, almost blonde, and was drawn back from the right side of her comely face but, oddly, was arranged to cover much of the left side of her face. She wore a chain shirt over a common shirt and trousers, had a short bow and quiver across her shoulders, a rucksack on her back and two large daggers in on each side of her wide leather belt. Around her neck was hung a round, flat amulet portraying a curving path leading up to a rosy dawn.

Apparently not seeing whoever she was looking for, she moved up to the bar, nodding a greeting to the little one standing there.

"The blessings of Lathander to you," she murmured to no one in particular.

Lingo

The halfling turns towards the pretty lady with a smile. He paused for a second and raised a single eye-brow but decided not to needle her.

"Bless you too, sunshine! You sure just brightened up this place."

Balthazar

The brown haired young man had taken notice when the Halfling had asked for the dwarf that they both evidently were here to meet. Balthazar had been about to say something to him when the woman, the cleric of Lathander that is, came in and to the bar. Balthazar closed his mouth and decided to watch, looking a touch uncomfortable.

DM

At the approach of the human the elf's eyes snap in his direction. The arm of the half-orc sitting with her reaches for the hilt of his Greatsword and is only stopped by a gentle elven hand laid across his other hand still holding the mug of ale he is drinking. The half-orc grunts, but slowly releases the sword's hilt.

The elf turns to face the human with a smile. "She does not like being touched by any but me, ...... mister.....?" The oddity of assigning emotions to a weapon stands out to Bern.

As that small drama is being played out, and Balthazar's attention is drawn by the interactions between the boisterous halfling and the Cleric of Lathander, he notes the barmaid has seen the new arrivals and begins to head over in his direction.

At the bar, the bartender grunts a reply to the halfling. Whether it is acknowledgement of his request for a beer, acknowledgement that he knows Gundren Rockseeker, or both is lost as Lingo's attention is drawn by the pretty looking Lathanderian Cleric who arrives near him. However Lingo is likely relieved to know that at least one part of his query was answered as a mug of ale slides along the bar and stops right in front of him.

"5 Coppers", is the gruff reply that accompanies the ale. Expensive for a drink, but then this place was not known for it's affordability.

Ryssa


Turning her head slightly so as to present more of her right profile to the room than the rest, the cleric smiled slightly and almost laughed.

"My pleasure. Her eyes moved across the room and then back to the Halfling."

"Do you know a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker?"

<Bern>

"Bern, milady." He did not find it so surprising that an elf could have a relationship with such a weapon. If he had such a thing of beauty, he would cherish it every but as much.

"And I can well imagine that she would be as committed to you as you clearly are to her.", he continued in elvish. "Tell her she is as lovely and impressive as her mistress and I think that she is lucky to have found you", he said with a bow. "Sorry to have intruded."

He took one last look at a thing of rare beauty ... well two things ... before heading towards the bar.

Lingo
"Here's a whole silver," he says to the bartender. "Can we get my lady-friend a mug too?"

He then turns towards the priestess and answers, "Yeah. I kinda know him. We met a few times and pounded back some of this fine brew together. Are you waiting for him? I am too."

Through the door strides a large Dragonborn wearing weathered chain mail. On his back are two weapons crossed a great axe and a maul. The weapons like all of his other equipment has seen use. His greenish tinged bronze scales glisten in the flickering light.

His deep set eyes scan the room clearly looking for someone. Not seeing whomever his quarry is, he moves to the bar and taps once lightly with a clawed hand "ale", he speaks simply when he has the bartender's attention.

He listens to the the ebb and flow of the conversation in the room watching and waiting.

Balthazar

"Then it seems that three of us are here to meet with our dwarven acquaintance. I am Balthazar." he said to the Halfling and the cleric, nodding to the Halfling but avoiding the eyes of the pretty cleric.

Luminmorn

The dragonborn over hears the comment and offers in a deep gravely voice "I too have come to meet a dwarf."

Ryssa


"Ryssa Noman," she said with a nod and a brief frown brought on by Balthazar's seeming avoidance of her. Her hand came up toward her left cheek, pausing just short of touching it.

Ryssa had never been so close to one of the dragonborn and she cocked her head slightly as she looked a him.

"I, too, am here to meet a dwarf."

She glanced back down at the Halfling and her smile returned.

"Thank you."

DM

The female elf holds up a hand as Bern speaks, then reaches behind her and picks up the bow with both hands, holding it out. "I can show her to you, just not hand her to you."

She holds the bow out lengthwise, turning it slowly so Bern can take it in. The bow is of white ash, and so delicately carved as it give Bern the impression it should snap in two were any real strength used to draw it's string back. Carved along it's length are lifelike woodland scenes.

"Her name is Oathkeeper. Mine is Beyel. His", she tips her head towards the half-orc, "is Ragar."

She shrugs a bit as she replaces the bow. "Apologies for not being more welcoming, but we're sort of in a business meeting and waiting for someone."

She nods at Bern as he moves to leave. "Nice to meet you, Bern."

As the others gather near the bar, the waitress comes over.

"Hi!"

She raises her right palm and waves it quickly, looking rather silly. Then as if that wasn't enough, she follows it with a childish giggle. She didn't look like any child, though. She was all woman and she seemed to know it.

"You're new! Welcome, welcome! What can I get you all? Food or just drink? We've got some tasty mutton today! Can I tempt you?"

Ryssa


She frowned briefly. Ryssa was not overly fond of mutton but she was hungry.

"My newfound friend here," she said, gesturing toward the Halfling, "very sociably ordered a drink for the two of us."

Her smile returned as an idea occurred to her.

"So I would like to order a meal for myself and him."

Ryssa looked downward at Lingo.

"If you are hungry, that is."

DM

"The mutton is eight silvers but it comes with a healthy serving of roast vegetables and a pitcher of the finest ale north of Waterdeep." Replies the barmaid. "Shall I bring you two orders?"

<Bern>

He turns back and looks appreciatively and intently at the bow without getting too close. "An extreme pleasure to meet you 'Oathkeeper'", he said with an appreciative bow. He was quite sure that Oathkeeper was not as fragile as she appeared. The elves had their ways, especially with things from the forest. "And you as well Beyel", he said as he stepped back. Then turning to the half-orc, he added, "and you Ragar. My name is Bern and I completely understand. I am here for a business meeting as well, so I completely understand. But Oathkeeper was the first thing I saw and my wonder got the best of me", he said apologetically. "May your business be profitable", he said and left the three to get back to their business.

He slowed as he approached the now somewhat crowded bar. He was not a fan of large crowds of strangers. He found a small empty table near the bar. Once the crowd thinned out, he could get an ale.

Ryssa


"That does change things."

She turned back to Lingo.

"Since the meal comes with an ale, should we just split the cost between us. That is, if you are hungry."

Balthazar

Balthazar had eaten earlier so he was fine with just his ale but with the addition of yet another person waiting to speak with the dwarf, he makes a suggestion.

"Since there are now so many of us, perhaps we should take a table to wait for him."

Lingo

Contributing now in several conversations, Lingo starts talking fast, stringing together phrases in a rather haphazard way. His head moves just as fast as his words as he shoots glances at each of the people he answers with a different expression. His facial expression alters itself dramatically at each turn going from pensive to decisive to quizzical and then to probing and finally to excited.

"Hmmmm. Mutton and ale. Mutton works for me. Have you ever met a halfling that wasn't hungry? Hey, have you heard or seen this dwarf we're waiting for? Does the name Gundren Rockseeker ring a bell? Yeah! Let's have a party. That table there!!!"

With the last he twirls around on his furry tippy toes and races over to the empty table, sliding to a halt and hoping into a chair with impressive agility.

"Come on! Whatcha waiting for?"

DM

The waitress nods and heads off to the back, coming out with two large plates with vegetables piled high atop sliced mutton, servings worthy of the steep price, and brings them over to Ryssa and Lingo and places them down on the table. Steam rises from the plates.

"I picked out some rare pieces for you young sir. I hope it's seasoned to your liking." At the conversation around their missing host, she adds, "Did I hear you are waiting for Rockseeker? Which one?"

As she waits for an answer, the fairly flighty waitress looks over her shoulder to a nearby table where another newcommer was sitting. Turning to Bern she asks. "Something I can get for you Sir? Some mutton? An ale?"

<Bern>

"An ale would be nice, thanks. But no rush. I am still waiting on a friend."

DM

The girl giggles. "Them too." She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder at the other table. "Seems to be the thing to do today. Another giggle and she heads over to the bar, quickly returning with an Ale.