One Drink. Two Drink. Three Drink. Floor!

Hello, hello helllllllllooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

‘Tis been seven months since there have been any DnD adventures to chronicle.  And today, the streak has come to en end!

We have a new DM. We have new characters. We have a new set of adventures.

So let’s get on with it, shall we?

The DM is Me. Your tireless scribe. Your faithful documentarian. And now, I’m leading the band of noble questers into destinies unknown.

And the new generation of noble heroes are as follows:

Fiona: Lightfoot Halfing Rogue (Jenny)

Thalia: High Elf Wizard (Kurt)

Gallan (Sidekick): Wood Elf Fighter (Kurt)

Ahfa: Human Paladin (Brent)

Zulu (Sidekick): Dwarf Cleric (Brent)

Tonight’s game is sponsored by Tator Tot Casserole and Apple Pie (Thank you, Jenny!)

As I have not DMed any 5e sessions ever, and in fact, I have not DMed at all in several years, I am jumping back in slowly.  At this “Session Zero”, the players received their characters (premade) and learned more about their abilities and skills.  All characters have a tie-in to this adventure in some way, and some personal goal s/he will be looking to achieve throughout the course of the next few sessions.

Therefore…

Our brave champions find themselves in a tavern called The Lighthouse Lounge.  It is a small pub close to the coast and it is a favorite stopping place for the small-time sailors and fishermen who moor here en route to Neverwinter or the Sword Coast or beyond.  The Lounge is a family-owned business and the decor’s theme is: Nautical.  Which is why, upon an easily-achieved Perception check, six portraits upon the far wall seem out of place.  But…more about them later…

Fiona the Rogue is perched upon a barstool at the countertop, where a harried but friendly-looking, middle-aged woman is filling mugs and collecting coin from patrons. Nin is the name of this barmistress. It should also be mentioned here that the most striking feature about the rogue (besides her all-black garb) is her red, red hair.

Ahfa and Zulu are sitting at a round table in the middle of the tavern, drinking what appears to be a Homebrew Holy Water.  There is nothing more distinctive about them at present besides they are both wearing chain mail. Hopefully we have more of a police identifiation on these guys soon.

At a small table against the wall near the entrance, a slight, silver-haired elf sits, reading studiously.  Her companion, a wood elf in leather armor, sits and surveys the scene.  Two barmaids scurry back and forth from the bar counter to the serving floor and they are rather adept at balancing trays of ale and food.  They are sisters Liri and Dara, and they are the daughters to Nin.

Even though it’s early evening, the crowd is lively.  Fishermen and sailors and mariners alike have been out, plying their trades since the early hours and now they seek a place of fellowship and entertainment. And the Lighthouse Lounge is it!  Including our party of questers, there are maybe 12-15 other patrons in the Lighthouse.  Cheery music appears to be piped in from somehwere as there are no minstrels present.  There is a raised platform at one end of the pub and it is here that a stout, ruddy-faced man jumps up onto the dais and claps his hands loudly. This man is named Bal, and he is the husband to Nin. It is obvious that Bal is the face of the Lighthouse Lounge and likely leaves the real work and business to the womenfolk.

“Friends,” he calls out jovially, “so glad to see you here this evening!  And now, let me announce a very special event…sponsored by the good men at ElderWood Brew, a Drinking Contest!!”

A great “Huzzah” goes up from the small crowd.  Bal smiles and goes on. “Yes, yes, yes, and this evening shall be a real treat.  They have produced a new Dwarven ale for us to try and so I need a few brave souls to give it a go.  Twenty gold pieces to the winner…the one left standing upright at the end of the contest!  Sign up with Nin here and the drinking shall commence about 15 minuntes hence.”

Another “Huzzah” erupts from the crowd and Bal HOPS down from the platform, a huge grin on his face.

Gallan, on the far side of the room, stands almost immediately.  Having a strong Constitution, a drinking contest is right up his alley.  Thalia, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too inclined to participate and in fact, it’s unclear that she, completely immersed in her books, even heard the announcement at all.  But, ever the good friend, Gallan signs Thalia up for the contest anyway.  Zulu is quite excited to join in.  “I’m a dwarf,” he reminds his friend Ahfa, “I’m a sure bet.”  Alfa heartily recommends him to go for it.  Fiona, already at the bar, decides to participate as well, even thought she knows it’s very likely she’ll lose the contest (and maybe her lunch), but is excited to “meet people”.

And before too long, Bal jumps back upon the plaftorm fo announce the rules.  The contestants will continuously drink, without long pauses, and when their mug is empty, it will immediately be refilled.  The player last standing upright wins the grand prize.

The fighter (Gallan) can’t help taunting the Dwarf cleric before the dirnking starts.  Incidentally, Thalia, guided by her sense of obligation, reluctantly joins her friend at the bar.

Gallan confidently downs drinks #1, #2, #3, and #4 without nary a pause.  Fiona does her best, but reaches for the one after her second drink and realizes she’s on the edge of disaster.  She bows out of the contest and goes to sit at the same table as the paladin. There is a great cheer for Fiona, as many of the Lighthouse’s patrons were rooting for the little person.  Zulu the Cleric hits his fourth drink and BARLEY passes his first Constitution check.  There is a general comment made about the difference of this Dwarven Ale versus other “Dwarven Hill Ale”.

The next round proves too much for the cleric as a failed Constition check sees him slide sideways off his stool and crash onto the floor.  His friend, Ahfa the Paladin, sighs and comes over to the now-incapacitated cleric.  After a quick muttered word and a laying on of hands, Ahfa is able to help his friend stumble back to the table where Fiona is still sitting.  Thalia, to everyone’s surprise, is hanging in there quite nicely until drink #4 in which she collapses to the floor as well, albeit in the most graceful, beautiful heap ever.  Gallan picks her up handily and escorts her to their table in the corner.

And now, it’s down to the Gallan and three other competitors, whom the fighter learns are good friends and sailors in from their sea travels.  They must also drink a lot.  It is unclear how it comes up, but a new challenge is issues by Gallan.  The rest of the contest: to be done standing on their barstools – ON ONE LEG.  The three friends laugh heartily and accept.  They introduce themeselves as Huey, Louie, and Dewey.  Over the course of the next couple of drinks (in which the Dwarven Ale is finally catching up with Gallan), the three men offer Gallan a deal: a free ferry ride to Stormwreck Isle the next morning if he should win the contest….and a one-gold piece fee if he loses.  Gallan accepts; the rogue and paladin’s ears prick up at the mention of the isle’s name (that the three men are shouting to each other across the bar).

Several minutes, drinks, and great dice rolls later, Huey, Louie, or Dewey is proclaimed the winner of the drinking contest.  Nin chuckles and serves up her special hangover renervation concoction, and save for a little head throb, Gallan is functioning normally again.  The four men make a deal to meet in the morn to set sail for Stormwreck Isle (about a four-hour journey).  It is here that Fiona the Rogue and Ahfa the Paladin insert themselves into the conversation with Gallan and ask to accompany him to the Island tomorrow.

“The more the merrier!” the wood elf proclaims.

Meanwhile, Thalia, now well-recovered from her brush with inebriation, is investigating the unusual portraits on the one wall of the Lighthouse Lounge.   Ahfa soon joins her and reads a small plaque nearby that indicates that counting the figures in the pictures will reveal a secret word.

And the pictures (from left to right) contain: one young beautiful girl wearing a yellow letterman’s sweater (A); two figures of a small boy (exactly identical) wearing a denim jacket and yellow raincoat (I); one figure of an exotic-looking boy wearing a long trench coat (D); two figures with nefarious looks about them, as if they might be criminals (R); three figures (all identical) of a disfigured, but friendly-looking man (O); and four figures (identical) of a young boy wearing plaid pants and a red raincoat (N).

The rogue comes over to watch the two puzzlers work and is addressed by one of the barmaids, who strikes up a brief but interesting conversation about Stormwreck Isle.  Upon further questioning, Fiona finds out some interesting information about dragons, the good-aligned metallic ones and the evil-aligned chromatic ones.

With some pondering and puzzling, the wizard and the paladin soon realize the word “AIDRON” is likely the secret word they’re looking for.  What it actually means or the secret it reveals remains to be seen.

When the rogue pipes in with her dragon information findings, Thalia makes some inquiries of her own and finds out a little bit more: That metallic and chromatic dragons hate each other because of the long-standing animosity between Bahamut, father of the metallic dragons and Tiamat, mother of the chromatic dragons. AND, guess what else? Stormwreck Isle is the ancient site of a great deal of earth-shattering conflict between the red dragon Sharruth and other, lesser metallic dragons.  And that maybe that damage and scarring and conflict is not so ancient…?

A rather exciting evening for our heroic heroes, wouldn’t you say? Tomorrow, passage to Stormwreck Isle await!  As do more adventures, undoubtedly.

As always, your readership is appreciated,

Heather