The Loudwater Chronicles

Icy Spire Prelude

Heading down the streets of Loudwater, Taviaa didn’t even notice the huge man in front of her until she collided with his chest. Picking herself up off the ground, she dusted off her cloak and pulls her long black hair out of her eyes. “Forgive me, I was in such a hurry…” she looked up and up again into Jubal’s eyes. “Oh, your poor face!” She raised her gloved hand to trace the scar on his cheek. “Whatever did you do to yourself?!” She takes a deep breath and seems to notice the smell for the first time. “You know, the church around the corner is offering hot meals and warm baths.” She trails off and stands there, smiling warmly at the big man, “Or if you’d like, I was just heading to The Tankard for a meeting, perhaps you would like to accompany me and I could buy you a drink?”

Jubal, with a frown, grunted and looked down at the girl. After a moment he realized she wasn’t going away, and answered. “Got this scar from a half-orc when he tried to bite me. You should see the scar I gave him.”

After another long pause, he realized the girl still wasn’t going away. “The Tankard? Alright. But save your silver. I can buy my own ale.”

Taviaa smiled. “Wonderful! My name Taviaa Haldura, it is a pleasure to meet you Mister…..” She pauses waiting only long enough for Jubal to fill in the blank with his name, and then continues, “He bit you! Did it get infected? What did you do back to him?” She will continue her banter and tries to keep pace with his long strides as they make their way to The Tankard.

“Girl, what do you think I did? I bit him back!”


A young moon elf tries to saunter nonchalantly into town, which is made difficulty by his wide-eyed wonder as he gazes around. He frequently consults a book as he walks through the town. He is clearly a starry eyed and somewhat awed. With a quick inquiry, he heads in the direction of the Tankard. He tries to pretend that the young female elf following him isn’t there.

Arriving at the Tankard, he throws the doors open and stands in the doorway, seeming to drink in all the sensations of the place. His mind clearly somewhere else, he walks slowly, almost reverently up to the bar. He waits patiently for the barkeep, feeling at once a stranger and as though he has returned home.

He winces at the whine from behind him. “Valerian!!! This is NOT the marketplace! You promised mom that you would take me shopping, and I WANNA GO SHOPPING NOW….!!”

Valerian checks the glasses of the drinkers in front of him at the bar, but they have somehow survived the auditory onslaught from his little sister. She popped her gum and stomped back out. Feeling the glare of the patrons, he turned and failed to leave the bar nonchalantly. His prodigious ears red, he caught up to his sister.

“Amarylle, I will take you to the market. But I am coming back later. It looks like there might be something…interesting…happening at the tavern later. And you can’t stop me.”


Entering The Tankard, Jubal breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that Taviaa was heading off to the bathroom. He immediately found a table in a dark corner and ordered an ale. Between the very graceful looking Eladrin sitting a few tables away, and the moon elf that just sauntered in, he was beginning to wonder just what type of establishment The Tankard was…


Nymrin wanders around the Main Street gasping at all the possibilities this town offers . He wanders his way into the tankard and scans the room. Immediately noticing the other fey brethren he smiles and waves. " hail fey friends ! I wasn’t sure I would see any of our kind In an establishment like this." Realizing that none are paying attention or they may be ignoring him the gnomes curiosity gets the better of him and he begins to wander about the room.

He makes his way to the stunning eladrin sitting at a table. "Wow you eladrin are impressive, but you really should get that looked at " point to his face he hops up on the table to get a better view of the room. Seeing the barmaid he snaps his finger " miss , some wine please" he turns back to the eladrin " name’s Nymrin Von Topplepin III but my friends call me Nym"


Tanis sits quietly at his table sipping what passes for wine in this town. He starts to smell something and looks around the room to find the source. It’s getting worse and he is losing hope of finding the source when a large nasty looking man walks through the door of the tankard. Immediately the stench hits him like a punch in the face so hard that he starts to feel slightly ill and barely notices a cleric running to the bathroom (probably ill from the miasma of stench coming from this man). He notices the man taking a seat at a far table.

Next a pair of moon elves walk in. He’s not sure what to make about this but the male does seem to have an air of mystic power about him. This is gone however the female starts to complain to him. Not being interested in their family matters he stares down at his wine.

He’s about to mutter something to himself when a gnome walks in likes he owns the place garnering the attention of most of the patrons. When the gnome mentions his scar he starts to cringe and then relaxes quickly. “Nym is it? A piece of advice I wouldn’t go around asking people about their scars. While some may share a romantisized story about a battle they lost or barely one others will have many bad memories brought about with only you to for bringing them to the surface.” His face turns more calm. “My name is Tanis and I am a town guard here in Loudwater. Another tip I picked up due to the folly of others the waiteresses here hate it when you snap or call them miss or wench. If you want to talk like that you should head to the Fisher’s Friend on the docks.” Tanis then looks down at his drink. I hope Edge and the others arrive soon I’d like to deal with this mess quickly night watch is getting down right frigid.


Sometime after Nym’s arrival to the tavern, Valerian the Moon Elf and his sister Amarylle returned to the Tankard. Settling Amarylle and her bags of new purchases into a table along the far wall, Valerian gazed around reverently. Consulting his book again, he then walked in the direction of the town guardsman. His eyes fixed on the soot-covered beams in the ceiling and counting out steps quietly to himself.

“Seventeen,” he said upon reaching Tanis. “This is the table.”

Smiling courteously, he bowed to the Eladrin and Nym.

“This is the table,” he repeated. “I have journeyed a great distance and braved many hardships…” A quick sidelong glance at his sister smacking gum and trying on shoes… “to sit at this table. Please, may I?”


Keef entered the Tankard’s common room to find it bustling. He saw Tanis seated at a table with a moon elf. Both of them were regarding a gnome standing on the table before them. Smiling slightly at the eladrin’s apparent discomfort, he made his way across the room.

“Greetings, Tanis; it is good to see you again. I hope you can help me. I’m looking for a cleric of Ilmater.” He was momentarily distracted by a large, filthy human sitting at the rear of the common room. The man was clearly giving him the stink eye and making… biting motions? Strange.

He came back to his train of thought. “A young, human female. She has been summoned back to the Temple in Waterdeep, and I am to escort her.”

The gnome’s eyes widened. “Waterdeep?! Really? I have always wished to visit the City of Splendor! Please, may I accompany you as well? I have skills that may be useful on the journey!”

Now it was Keef’s turn to look uncomfortable as Tanis and the moon elf smiled. “Yes”, Tanis said, “I think that would be an excellent idea; don’t you, Keef? Your cleric is in the privy, and should be returning momentarily. Let me buy you a drink to toast your safe travels!”

Resigned, the half-orc sat. After flagging the barmaid for an ale, he chatted up the others as he waited for the cleric to return.


Making her way back through the bar, Taviaa stopped at Jubal’s table. She takes a deep breath of fresh air, and then bends over to speak to the fighter. “The group you said you were looking for is over there.” She subtly points with a gloved hand. “See, the beautiful elf with the flowing golden locks, piercing eyes that can see into your soul and the little butterflies dancing around his head. Oh, and the big ugly scar that matches yours. You need to go over there!” She straightens and walks over to the main table. Assuming that Jubal is following her.
Arriving at the table, she smiles. “Greetings, my name is Taviaa Haldura.” Glancing at Tanis, “I was instructed to meet you here, I am assuming along with these other brave adventurers.” Her smile takes in the rest of the party as she waits for Jubal to introduce himself. (Because she knows he followed her to the table!)

Keef stood up to address the cleric. “Greetings, Sister Haldura. My name is Keef, and I bring you a message from the Temple of Ilmater in Waterdeep.” He handed Taviaa a folded piece of fine parchment, sealed with blue wax in the symbol of Ilmater. He waited several seconds for her to open and read the message before continuing.

“I have been instructed to escort you back to Waterdeep, and place myself in your service for the duration of the journey. I have secured rations and supplies; we can leave as soon as you are ready.”

Behind him he heard a soft, rhythmic thumping. Keef turned to see Nym literally jumping up and down on the table trying to control himself, with a pleading look in his eyes. The half-orc sighed, then turned back to Taviaa. “Oh, and this is Nym. He will apparently be joining us on our journey.”


The tavern door swings open gentle, a slender figure with his cloak pulled low over his face, gracefully enters the tavern and takes a seat at the empty table in the corner. Flagging down the barmaid he orders a water, and casually drinks sitting alone observing the bustling tavern. Fryn does not indulge in things that impair the senses, not since leaving Menzoberranzan.
He watches the newcomers, and waits to see them settle in. He then notices the large ugly behemoth approaching Tanis. Unsure of the intentions of the beast of a man, Fryn positions himself in a better location to spring into action if needed and to try and determine what this large ugly man wants with Tanis. Cloak still low over his face, to hide his heritage, Fry listens intently with his hands close to the hilt of his scimitar in a non-threatening but very ready state.

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