I sat, reclined, in the corner of the tavern, facing the doorway through which the late afternoon sun shone. Upon my entering, the barkeep had loudly touted their large selection of ales, brandies, mead, sherries, stouts, whiskeys, firewine, and elverquiss in an attempt to empty my coin purse of its contents but his eyes shown with rebuke when all I ordered was water. Now, before me sat a cup of water, untouched. My eyes swept the room, noting several others, that, like myself, did not belong here. I assumed that the notice I carried in my pack had brought them to this place as well. Pulling it from my pack, I quickly reviewed the words written on the parchment. It read, “HELP WANTED” in bold letters across the top. Below this was written, “We will be meeting at the setting of the winter sun on the nineteenth day of solstice in the year of the 1493 DR at the Fallen Tower in the East end of the Tower District of the Jewel of the North, Neverwinter!” It was signed, “Gundren Rockseeker”.
I glanced at the door, at the filtered sunlight creeping in through the cracks and slants, judging the position of the sun. Yes, any moment now. Suddenly, the tavern door was thrown wide and a stout dwarf entered the room. He made his way across the room and as he clambered up onto one of the tables, the room fell silent. The barkeep half-heartedly called for him to get down off the table but his words went unheeded. The dwarf took a moment to clear his throat and then began. “Hello. I am Gundren Rockseeker. Thank you for coming here this evening. I assume that you’re here because you’ve seen the notice I’ve posted around town.” At this, some of the locals turned away from him and returned to their conversations. The dwarf spoke louder in response. “I’m looking for a group of hearty adventurers to escort a wagon containing my goods from here in Neverwinter, down south to Phandalin. Who here is willing to take me up on this offer? Come forward if you are willing.” The tavern fell silent once more, as heads turned, wondering if anyone would take him up on his offer.
I stood and crossed the room. Because of the table’s height, He and I were eye-level with one another. “I will take you up on your offer.” He nodded at me and I heard movement behind me as several others moved forward and offered their words of agreement as well. “Wonderful, wonderful. Let’s go somewhere more private and discuss the details.” With a flourish, he hopped down off the table and led the way to where I had been sitting earlier. He pulled up a chair and settled into it. As I did the same, I took a moment to assess the others. Gundren said, “Please. Allow us get acquainted.” In addition to myself and Gundren, four others pulled up chairs and sat down. A male Dragonborn followed, but remained standing, instead choosing to lean against the wall. Immediately to my left was a Male Wood Elf. He bowed to us and said, “My name is Vanieros.” I’d met his kind before and the ones I’d met were honest and trustworthy. To my right, an Aasimar. Though he was passing as human, to my trained eye, I recognized his divine nature. With a golden voice, he introduced himself as Vitarri. The tone of his voice was quite pleasing. To the left of the wood elf sat a creature I had only read about in my studies. An untrained eye might refer to him as a birdman but I knew him to be a Kenku. I was surprised to see one here in Neverwinter and found myself curious as to what could have led him to leave his home and venture out. He said his name was Scuttle and that his motivation as a rogue was coin, which surprised me not. The Kenku are known to be drawn to pretty baubles and are notorious thieves. I determined to keep an eye on him. To the Aasimer’s left sat a Human Male. He had the look of the arcane about him and I guessed him to be a wizard. He introduced himself as Redium and confirmed my suspicions. Last to speak, the Dragonborn told us his name was Jarbrax and then added, with a glance in my direction, that he was a follower of Cyric, The Mad God. I hold a personal grudge against the Mad God and all that do his bidding and I felt my skin begin to burn with the knowledge that I was in the presence of one that belonged to “him”. My hand reached for my mace of its own accord and I almost took up arms at his words but after a moment, my blood cooled and I decided that I would be better served watching him and seeing what I might learn about the Mad God’s plans. I let my hand fall to my side.
Once settled and having introduced ourselves, Gundren spoke. “I appreciate your willingness to help. The job pays 600 gold pieces, to be divided as you see fit. Half now and half upon delivery. You’ll escort my caravan from here in Neverwinter to Phanadlin, a journey of two days. Any questions?”
“Yes”, I said. “600 gold seems like a great deal of money for caravan duty. Have you had issues with previous trips?”
He dropped his eyes and nodded. “Yes, indeed, my wagons have been attacked in the past and it’s important that these supplies get through to Phanadlin. My business depends on it.”
Seeing an opportunity present itself, I asked, “This seems like a dangerous mission. Considering that you have lost caravans in the past, I believe that, upon a successful delivery, we should be paid a total of 1200 gold.” At first, he seemed taken aback, but after a moment, a shrewd look enters his eyes and he nodded. “Agreed. As I said, half now and the other half later. Now,” he said, “Who’s going to serve as the lead on this trip?”
Those of us gathered around the table took a moment to size each other up and then began debating the issue. The wizard was strangely quiet and just sat and waited for us to choose. The Aasimer felt he was the only one qualified to lead, as I imagine all Aasimer do. However, after a few moments of discussion, we settled on Vanieros, the wood elf. We parted ways and agreed to meet at daybreak the next morning to begin our journey.