Hooligans: Adventures Recounted

One: Oops...

// I'm going to preface this first chapter by explaining a couple of things. First, that this book is a chronicle of my SECOND time playing Aylin. Previously named Elvyre, I took her into my first ever DND game with some guy friends from high school. The second week I played with them, the guy who plays Oswin now (who was Chaotic Evil at the time) turned against us and literally killed everybody but me. So there's that. Not salty.

But we restarted and I can honestly say these dweebs are some of my favorite humans. Oh, and just a disclaimer, I don't remember a lot of the early stuff, especially names and vocations. So do forgive me.\\

The Yawning Portal was as busy as ever, patrons drinking and laughing at their tables, barmaids rushing about with ale and wine to refill flagons. Tipsy, the sit-in innkeeper, was washing flagons and plates, ordering her barmaids about with practiced patience. She was a pink-haired, rosy cheeked halfling of plump stature, with a kind smile and enough sass to fill a bucket twice her size. She looked around her fine establishment, through the arching wooden ceilings, the high windows, the worn wooden floors with their occasional scratches. It really was a fine place, famous for the enormous well in the middle of the floor - the Yawning Portal. Eighty feet across, it was surrounded by a silver guardrail to prevent anyone form falling in - lucky, Tipsy thought, considering the number of drunkards. Not that a rail would do much to stop anyone from falling in. The hole led deep into the Undermountain, a mysterious place that apparently produced many a legend.

Two travelers sat at her bar, nursing flagons of ale. One of them an Arakocra, his beak a shining gold. He was clothed in basic monk garb, with light blue robes that fit his feathery frame loosely. An orange sash traveled across his chest and waist, dangling with a set of red beads at his belt. Beside him sat a lithe half-elf woman with a journal in which she was doodling furiously. Tipsy was still shocked at this woman, who had managed to put down many a flagon and yet remained sober, save a tiny flush on her freckled cheeks. She was a bard, judging by the lute that hung across her back. She was clothed in a flowing white chemise and a set of leather breeches, and her blue outer coat sat on her shoulders like a shawl.

Tipsy looked up as a newcomer entered the tavern, turning the attention of many of her patrons. He was fully armored, a tabard inscribed with a mysterious symbol on his chest. The plate of his armor rang as he stepped, removing his helmet to reveal rugged green features, and a shock of trimmed black hair. The armored man came to the bar, settling in next to the bard with some difficulty.

"What'll it be, dear?" Tipsy asked. The orc opened his mouth to speak, but the half elf beat him without even looking up from her journal.

"Another ale, please, Tipsy dear. And something for both of these fellows." Her voice was melodious and soft. A bard indeed.

The bird looked up, "That's much appreciated."

The bard waved him off, "Yes, yes, no need to thank me."

Tipsy served the drinks, watching the strange bunch clink their flagons together, and settle back into their individual thoughts. Tipsy thought of asking the bard to play a song or two. It'd been a while since she'd had good music in the Portal, and it'd be nice to not have to pay in anything but ale. Just as she was about to ask, the door swung wide, and an even stranger figure strutted inside. It was a humanoid creature with blue, scaled skin and green-tipped gills. Its face was humanlike in shape, with purple fish eyes and greenish hair. The creature walked up to the bar, leaning against it with unparalleled confidence.

"I would like to request your services, barkeep!" it announced, a male voice emitting from its lips. Tipsy heard most of the inn go silent.

"What can I do for you... adventurer?" she asked in a small voice, suspicious of this fish man.