WATERDEEP — DAWN
Scene: Kereska’s Favor Tavern, Dock Ward Edge | Spring Morning | 6:12 AMThe city of Waterdeep stirs with the ctter of carts, the low hiss of ocean mist rolling up from the bay, and the soft warmth of dawnlight spilling through iron-tticed windows.
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Kereska’s Favor Tavern – Common Room
The tavern’s main hall is quiet but glowing. Pale blue sunrays spill across the hardwood floors, catching dust motes mid-spin. The long oak counter — engraved with a starburst sigil of the dragon goddess Kereska — gleams with fresh oil. The scent: wood polish, sea salt, and whatever Risotto accidentally burned before anyone woke up.
Lorin NeverbrookeHeight: 5’7”, slim build, long bck hair pinned up with a brass comb, earth-toned dress with fitted sleeves and tea-scented linen apron. She stands with perfect posture behind the counter, already jotting new guest notes in her ceremony-sharp handwriting. Her aura: calm, composed, capable. She hums a manor lulby without noticing.
“Two pigeons nested again in Room 4. Need stronger runes. Or Linguini.”
She gnces toward the kitchen.
Risotto (wererat, soft, wide-eyed) stumbles out holding a burnt pan.Linguini (wererat, twitchy, faster) zooms past with a mop.They’re brothers, hired muscle and staff, enchanted with low-grade illusion gmors to keep their rat forms optional for guests.
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The Party Chambers – Upstairs
Melodia’s Room
Tiny vender shoes hang from a moon-carved wall hook. Beneath the canopy bed: enchanted cookie jar. On the windowsill: a half-written letter to the moon.Melodia is still asleep, curled fetal in white silken sheets, the hem of her miniature corset dress just visible where the covers have slipped. A plush moon plushie rests under her chin. Her garters glint faintly in the dawnlight, legs curled under soft sheets.Her moonstone choker pulses faintly: emotional warmth sensed nearby.
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Krummar’s Room
The duergar cleric kneels shirtless on his personal tarp, a circle of dried flowers and names stitched into the linen around him.His gray skin glows faintly silver as he prays. His camellia and vender tattoos are pressed to his knees.
“Sel?ne. Grant me strength to love this loud world patiently today.”His deep blue eyes open slowly. He hears someone trying not to burn breakfast downstairs.He does not comment.
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Daka’s Room
A half-eaten pastry is wedged in a bagpipe. A boot is hanging from the ceiling. The Pirate Hat rests proudly on a chair, and Daka himself — seven feet of pure chaotic orc brawn — is shirtless, flexing in the cracked mirror and yelling at no one:
“OI! LOOK AT THIS ABSOLUTE LEGEND!”He suplexes the bedframe and somehow nds back on it.He grabs the pastry, bites it, then roars:“NEEDS MORE BRAGGING.”His eldritch tattoo glows faintly — he may have accidentally cast Mage Hand by flexing again.
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Mel’s Room
Quiet. Grounded.Mel sits cross-legged on the floor, her scars glowing faintly under the straps of her forest-woven garb. Her sketchbook rests open in her p — a new drawing: a sparrow carrying a note.Her long bck hair is half-braided, dirt-smudged fingers twiddling a feather.
She doesn’t smile — but her breathing’s even.Her Gulthias Staff rests beside her bed like a watching animal.
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6:17 AM – Tavern Doors Unlocked
Lorin finishes her ledgers, rolls her ceremonial sleeves, and whispers toward the hallway:
“Doors are open. Let the chaos begin.”
Waterdeep’s people are stirring. Faction notices have begun appearing outside. Kereska’s Favor is open.
The party is waking up.What they do next — is entirely up to them.
—-6:18 AM – Kereska’s Favor, Common RoomThe morning light softens the polished wood as the tavern’s magically-etched windows shift slightly to match the dawn hue. A steaming teapot begins to whistle in the back — an automated arcane enchantment courtesy of Krummar’s st downtime tinker session with Renaer.
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FOOTSTEPS.
Heavy. Loud. Braggadocious.
Daka sms his way down the tavern stairs shirtless — massive green biceps flexing, pirate hat perched perfectly askew. He carries a half-eaten apple tart in one hand and a mug of questionable liquid in the other.
“MORNING, LOSERS. WHO WANTS A PUNCH-HUG?”
He elbow-pushes the swinging kitchen door, which rebounds into Risotto’s face.
Risotto (nose-twitch): “I just organized the ptes…”
Daka ignores him entirely and struts to the bar, pnting both fists down so hard the silverware rattles.
“Lorin. I dreamed I suplexed an angel and she cpped. Give me something sugary, strong, and illegal.”
Lorin — hair neatly pinned, sleeves rolled, apron crisp — doesn’t flinch. She lifts one eyebrow, pours him a thick syrupy brandy, slides it forward without breaking eye contact.
“Please don’t flip the chairs again. We have a booking at noon.”
“No promises.”
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6:20 AM – Upstairs
Melodia stirs.
The enchanted moonstone choker around her neck fres with a soft warmth. Her eyes flutter open — crystal-blue and gssy, shes long enough to catch dust.The room smells faintly of pressed vender and stolen cookies.
She sits up slowly, mini vender corset slightly askew, hem rising over one plump thigh. Her stocking straps tug gently under the sheets as she stretches and murmurs:
“Mmm… did someone say… illegal?”
She slips into her ribboned shoes, beret tilting as she blinks the dream from her shes.
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6:22 AM – Krummar Appears
Downstairs, the scent of sunwarmed flowerdust drifts into the room. Krummar has entered — stocky, bare-armed, with his navy scale mail only half fastened and shield slung across his back.
His tattooed hands are freshly wrapped. He offers no greeting — just surveys the room, sighs softly, and grabs a coffee.
“Daka. Put a shirt on. Melodia might walk in.”
“That’s the point, moonboy!”
Lorin hides a smile behind her tea.
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6:23 AM – Mel Arrives
The back door creaks.Mel steps in from the courtyard. Forest-toned cloak draped loosely over her shoulders, a bit of dew still glistening on her boots. Her dark hair is wet at the ends, braided with moss and bird feathers. Her skin is flushed from early morning air.
She sees Daka flexing over breakfast.She blinks.
“…Did we open already?”
She walks past everyone, drops a fresh mushroom on the counter, and mutters:
“Found this near the shrine. It moved.”
Lorin accepts the mushroom with a nod like it’s completely normal.
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6:25 AM – Tavern Open? The smell of burnt toast, enchanted brandy, and damp leather fills the air.? Outside: Waterdeep Guild Courier is pinning a faction notice to the tavern’s front board.? Inside: A regur (a smuggler named Marris) is already sliding into a booth for his “usual silence and coffee.”
A light fog rolls in through the open door.
The party is assembled.The day has officially begun.——
6:26 AM — Kereska’s Favor Tavern, Ground Floor
The early tavern quiet simmers into a casual chaos.
Daka spins his chair backward and straddles it like it owes him money.
“AIGHT. LET’S DO A STRATEGY MEETING.”(pauses)“…About what, no clue. But I’ve got abs and that’s a start.”
He pulls out a scroll beled “BIG IDEAS: DAKA EDITION”, which consists mostly of crayon sketches of him punching various mythical beasts beled things like “ghost dragon???” and “va dy (HOT!)”
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Melodia Descends
The stairwell hushes without magic.
Melodia drifts down barefoot, still adjusting one garter strap beneath her moonlit skirt, her miniature corset dress bouncing slightly as she steps lightly. Her moonstone choker pulses with emotion-sense — she’s surrounded by warmth, noise, tension. Her hair fluffs when she passes Krummar.
She stops beside the counter, tilts her head, and smiles faintly:
“The chairs are upside down. Is that strategy?”
Daka (grinning): “Only the sexy ones are allowed to sit on ‘em. You qualify. Obviously.”
Krummar (deadpan, sipping his coffee): “He’s been shirtless for twenty-three minutes.”
Mel (from the bar): “And louder than the sunrise.”
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6:28 AM – The Job Board Flickers
The faction notice board outside magically lights with an amber glow.
Lorin crosses the room with perfect posture and opens the door just wide enough to pluck the new job scroll from the hook. She reads it in silence, eyes scanning the fine ink — then rereads it twice.
She turns.Her tone shifts.
“Guildhall’s requesting outside consultants. Civilian unrest in the North Ward. Possible magical interference near Maelstrom Alley.”
Krummar (raising eyebrow): “Unrest or explosion?”
Lorin: “They’ve included hazard pay. And… a discimer about ‘phantasmal disruption.’”
Mel (quietly): “Illusion magic?”
Daka (already standing): “Adventure juice: activated.”
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6:30 AM – Tavern Atmosphere: Live? Linguini is mopping under the same spot three times.? Risotto is cooking a fire-resistant omelet. It smells like optimism and panic.? Renaer Neverember is nowhere in sight (yet).? The coffee pot has mysteriously refilled itself twice — no one mentions it.? Melodia’s moonstone choker faintly pulses with emotional echoes — too many people, too many threads.
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Current Choices Before the Party (Autonomous Triggers Engaged):1. Faction Job: Investigate the magical unrest in the North Ward — danger guaranteed.2. Tavern Stay: Prepare for the noon booking — mingle, train, or scheme.3. Wildcard Option: Let Daka pick the day’s direction (this usually ends in flexing-reted injuries).
The camera lingers on the party.
Observer Mode Active.I will proceed with whichever path a character naturally initiates unless you redirect.
Current Initiative: Daka rolls his shoulders.
“I say we suit up. Flex on some illusions. Maybe I get haunted. Sexy ghost subplot?”
Krummar snorts into his mug.
6:31 AM — Kereska’s Favor, Decision Point
Daka vaults over the tavern bench like a man born of caffeine and bad ideas.His pirate hat spins midair and nds perfectly back on his head — somehow glinting in sunlight that isn’t even present indoors. He strikes a pose, fists clenched, and yells toward the rafters:
“I, DAKA THE BARD-BARIAN, CHALLENGE ALL UNSEEN MYSTERIES IN THE NORTH! LET ME SEE YOUR ILLUSIONS—AND I’LL PUNCH THEM INTO EMOTIONAL CLARITY!”
Krummar mutters:
“He’s naming arc titles again.”
But he sets down his mug. Quietly straps on the rest of his scale mail, pulling his shield onto his back with reverent silence. His deep gray skin reflects the early light as his tattooed hands flex once — a prayer echoing just behind his eyes.
“If phantasms are hurting civilians… then we go. No debates. Daka, wear a shirt.”
“YOU ARE A COWARD AND A CENSOR.”
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6:32 AM – Mel Slides Off the Counter
Mel—barefoot and earthy—tightens her forest-toned belt. Her scarred arms are partially visible as she rolls her sleeves. Her Gulthias Staff rests across her back, half-twined with vines that weren’t there a moment ago. She picks up a slice of toast from someone else’s pte, says nothing, and eats it.
“Ghosts are fine. Just don’t make me talk to strangers.”
Her voice is quiet — but her movement is deliberate. Tactical. Ready.
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Melodia Buttons Her Beret
She tightens the strap on her garter belt, her longbow slung behind her in its crescent cradle. Her vender corset dress sways gently as she moves, her enchanted Lolita shoes clicking delicately on the floorboards.
“If there are illusions… maybe they just want to be seen.”
Then she giggles softly and hops down the st step, her moonstone choker fshing once like a pulse of stage-light.
“Also, if one flirts with Daka, I’m logging it.”
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6:35 AM — Tavern Prep
Lorin hands the job scroll to Krummar and offers him a small, folded pack of dried vender:
“For the people who don’t need a fming fist in the face.”
Krummar: “You’re assuming I won’t use it.”
Risotto hands Mel a side pouch of mushroom jerky without asking.
Linguini slips Melodia a warm croissant from the enchanted pastry jar and winks.
“For courage.”
Melodia (blushing): “For sugar…”
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6:38 AM — Exit Sequence? Daka punches the door open instead of using the handle.? Krummar heals the door frame without looking at it.? Mel pulls up her hood and blends into the fog.? Melodia tiptoes beside her, gncing at reflections and whispering to passing pigeons.
The party of four exits Kereska’s Favor into the early streets of Waterdeep’s Northward.
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CAMERA PANS UP
Fog. Shifting lights. Sounds of gss breaking in the distance.
The streets are twisted today.Colors shimmer wrong in the air above Maelstrom Alley.People stand mid-motion, whispering at no one.And in the sky — for a second — the sun blinks.
This illusion… is alive.
