home

search

Act 1: The Laughing Wax- Prelude

  [SCENE ONE — KARESHKA’S FAVOR | WATERDEEP | 7:42 AM]Soft rain taps against the leaded-gss windows. The hearth hasn’t been stoked yet. A scent of ash, vender soap, and rising dough floats under wood-beamed ceilings. The tavern is only half awake.

  ?

  1. LORIN NEVERBROOKE — Laundry Alcove, Second Floor

  She stands in ankle-deep steam, one bare foot tapping as she folds freshly enchanted linens with ceremonial precision.Lorin is 5’7”, slim and graceful — cd in an earth-toned, ankle-length housekeeper’s dress, sleeves rolled to mid-forearm. The tavern crest on her leather belt gleams faintly as she shifts. A damp lock of raven hair curls along her cheek. Her emerald eyes gnce once toward the stairwell. Listening. For what, even she’s not sure.

  Her presence aura (+5) wraps the room in gentle silence.On the shelf above her: folded sheets, a tiny carved memory box, and a cold cup of tea.In her eyes: held-back tears. Not dramatic ones. Just quiet. Persistent.

  She hums an old manor lulby. Not for herself — for the tavern.

  ?

  2. DAKA — The Hearth, First Floor

  7’0” of shirtless chaos, glistening green skin still damp from rain, Daka is trying to light the hearth using Mage Hand and sheer optimism. His pirate hat droops forward, soaked.He’s wearing just his enchanted Belt of Swagger and a mismatched pair of tavern towels (stolen, knotted into pants). His brawny frame stretches as he flexes while yelling at the firewood:

  “Oi, c’mon then! Light up like my st ex!”

  He punches the firewood. The fire ignites. He whoops.

  Then he slips on a spilled pastry. Falls.Curses.Laughs.

  “Still counts!”

  His cockney shout echoes off the beams as a confused gnome pokes his head in from the alley window and slowly backs away.

  ?

  3. KRUMMAR LINDVERG — Back Garden, Under Rain

  Stocky, gray-skinned, and quiet as the grave, Krummar (4’8?”) kneels under a tarp that flutters like a moonlit sail. His dark navy scale armor is spotless, glinting with dew. A vender-lic scent hangs around him as he gently ys a dried flower in the earth.

  He whispers something in Duergar. His hands — tattooed, calloused — tremble only briefly.

  Then he stands.

  And yells toward the open tavern door:

  “Daka, if the fire talks back, don’t seduce it again.”

  Inside, a muffled “NO PROMISES” echoes back.

  Krummar snorts. He rolls his tarp up with reverent care and tucks it under his arm. His Presence Score (8) draws the attention of two passing nobles who slow their step — unsure why they feel calmer just seeing him.

  ?

  4. MELENA “MEL” ANTONESCU — Upstairs Hallway, Crouched Beside a Mouse

  5’6”, athletic, olive-toned, long bck hair damp with morning mist. Mel is crouched barefoot in a patch of spilled flour, whispering to a mouse. Her eyes narrow in silent focus.

  She offers it a piece of dried apricot from her pouch.The mouse takes it. Scurries away.

  She smiles — small, rare, real.

  Her Gulthias Staff leans against the wall beside her. Her hand hovers near it, fingers twitching in a familiar grounding tic. Her hand bears a scar — thorn-whip pattern, healed over but never softened.

  “Trust me,” she mutters to herself. “That’s a better interaction than I’ll get downstairs today.”

  She straightens. Her blight-themed armor shimmers faintly as she turns toward the stairs, hearing Daka cursing and ughing below. Her mouth tics toward a smile again. But just for a second.

  ?

  5. MELODIA STARWHISPER — The Loft, Half-Asleep

  4’8”, tiny and heartbreakingly plush.Melodia ys curled beneath a velvet bnket, her moonstone choker glowing faintly at the hollow of her throat. One thigh-high stocking is halfway down her leg. A tiny sliver of her garter strap peeks from beneath the hem of her miniature vender corset dress, rumpled from sleep.

  Her white bob curls around her cheek like soft snowfall.She clutches her Lyre of Stars like a teddy bear.She hums in her sleep.

  Her freckles pulse gently, as if she’s dreaming of appuse.Or maybe sugar. Her “forbidden cookie jar” lies open beside her, three half-eaten pastries visible. A fourth is squashed beneath her thigh.

  Downstairs, Daka yells:

  “IF I DIE LIGHTING THIS FIRE, BURY ME WITH MY HAT!”

  Melodia sighs in her sleep.

  “Too loud…”She rolls over.?

  [SCENE ONE CONTINUES — 7:56 AM | KARESHKA’S FAVOR | WATERDEEP]The tavern breathes. Characters begin to move. A scent of cinnamon and smolder rises. Rain patters soft against ste roofs. A new ripple of life simmers beneath the mundane.

  ?

  1. TAVERN FLOOR — DAKA vs. PASTRY TRAY, Round Two

  Daka, now upright and inexplicably wetter, bances a steaming tray of burned croissants on one forearm like a cocktail dancer at a noble masquerade. His reddish mullet drips onto the crusts. His massive green frame (7’0”, bouncer-god bulk) saunters shirtless between bar tables, flexing gratuitously at no one.

  “MORNING SNACKS, LADIES AND COWARDS!”

  A croissant slides off the tray. He catches it behind his back without looking.

  “Boom. Performance check: passed.”

  He throws it in his mouth, misses, and hits a ntern.The ntern teeters.Lorin appears.

  ?

  2. LORIN — Immacute Descent

  She moves like a ghost down the spiral stair — dress perfectly smoothed, hair freshly pinned. Fwless posture. Her presence hums at +5, silencing the room by existing in it.

  Lorin (5’7”, slim, dark-haired, pale-toned skin) calmly retrieves the fallen croissant from the floor using a napkin. She doesn’t speak.

  She rolls up her sleeve.

  Daka freezes.

  “You’re gonna hit me with a dish towel again, aren’t you.”

  She stares. Calm. Composed.

  “I will… reattempt firewood strategy,” he mumbles, scuttling backward toward the hearth.

  She says nothing. Folds the napkin. Pces it in her apron.Leaves.

  (Presence fallout complete. Daka visibly shrinks, despite STR 25.)

  ?

  3. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY — MEL & KRUMMAR: Rain & Rituals

  Krummar enters from the rear door, rain dappling his armor. His stocky Duergar form (4’8?”, 160 lbs, muscle-cd confidence) carries the weight of silent battles and warm flowers alike.

  He sees Mel crouched again — this time beside a window. Her olive skin, bare shoulders, and thorn-scarred back catch morning light as she fiddles with the bark of a potted tree.

  Krummar stops. Watches.

  “You speak to them. The animals. The roots.”

  Mel doesn’t look up.

  “They don’t lie.”

  He crouches beside her, surprisingly gentle for someone in navy scale mail.

  “And yet you trust me?”

  Mel’s lips twitch.

  “You read business books. You’re too busy judging your budget to lie to anyone.”

  Pause. Then a snort from him.

  “I am on chapter nine: ‘Pricing Your Morals.’”

  They sit in silence. A shared ritual of emotional stillness.Outside, a bird nds on the sill.

  Mel’s eyes flicker to it.The glow behind her shes grows faintly — a Codex Glow Trigger from gentle presence, no words required.

  Krummar doesn’t move. He lets her have it.

  ?

  4. MELODIA — Stairs & Stumbles

  She awakens in a tangle of curls, velvet, and thighs.Melodia Starwhisper (4’8”, tiny, dark-chocote skin glowing faintly) sits up groggily, the moon-shaped charm on her ankle jingling as she slides her legs off the loft bed.

  Her mini vender corset dress rides high as she stands. She tugs it down, sleep-drunk. Her silver-flecked eyes widen at the cool air.

  Her hand instinctively clutches her moonstone choker, which pulses faintly with emotional echo.

  “No one saw… right?”

  She glides to the stairwell, stocking half-down, skirt swaying with garter visibility unlocked.

  She steps—

  Trips.

  Slides down five steps.

  Thunk.

  ?

  5. TAVERN FLOOR — MEL FALLS | LORIN CATCHES

  Lorin moves like time paused for her.Her arms catch Melodia as she spills downward — warm velvet into quiet linen.

  Melodia clutches her sleeves, breath trembling.

  “…s-sorry…” Melodia whispers, voice trembling like a lulby at the edge of a sob.

  Lorin’s voice is warm silk.

  “It’s alright, Melodia. I’ve been catching falling things since I was six.”

  Behind them, Daka stares.His mouth opens.

  Krummar punches him in the ribs without looking.

  “Say nothing.”

  Daka nods.Still staring.

  ?

  [TIME: 8:07 AM]A customer walks in. A noblewoman. Alone.Eyes scan the room. Land on Krummar.Then Melodia. Then Mel.

  She smiles.

  “This looks promising.”

  [SCENE ONE CONTINUES — KARESHKA’S FAVOR | WATERDEEP | 8:08 AM]The tavern exhales into midmorning. Warmth bleeds into stone. Rain slows. Foot traffic increases. Coffee steams. Eyes wander. Emotional systems stir beneath practiced routine.

  ?

  1. TAVERN FLOOR — THE NOBLEWOMAN

  She enters with a slow, deliberate step. Her cloak is wet but elegant — deep burgundy, fur-lined. She’s no stranger to power, nor to secrets.Her eyes — lic gray, assessing — flick across the tavern’s energy like a connoisseur sniffing wine.

  Krummar — still damp from prayer, armor radiant — straightens from where he’d just gently repositioned Mel’s Gulthias Staff near a coat rack.

  The noblewoman approaches.

  “Cleric of Sel?ne. Rare in this part of town.”

  Krummar bows — no humility, just custom.

  “Faith travels better than horses.”

  She smiles.

  “You’re better looking than my st priest.”

  “That’s because I hit my enemies with radiant fire.”

  Pause. Her gaze lingers.

  “…Noted.”

  She moves on. Presence spike absorbed.

  ?

  2. BEHIND THE BAR — MEL & LORIN

  Mel stands at the edge of the bar, sleeves rolled, brow furrowed over a pastry tray. Her tan skin is dusted with flour, her muscur frame angled protectively as she rearranges slightly-burned baked goods.

  Lorin polishes a teacup nearby, hair pinned, dress pristine, not saying a word.

  “These are bad,” Mel mutters.

  “They’re salvageable,” Lorin replies.

  “They’re burned.”

  “They’re warm.”

  Mel sighs.

  “Why do you always fix things?”

  Lorin blinks once. Slowly.

  “Because someone has to.”

  Pause. Mel looks at her.Then says nothing.

  But her hand brushes Lorin’s for a half-second too long when passing a napkin.

  No glow. But the air shifts.

  ?

  3. DAKA — Posture, Performance, and Posing

  Now shirted, in a crimson open-colr tunic stolen from a merchant’s lost undry order, Daka (7’0”, still damp) has climbed atop the bar and is striking bodybuilder poses behind the mugs.

  “I’m like art,” he decres. “But the kind that flexes back.”

  Mel flicks a spoon at his head. Hits his temple.

  “Ow! That’s a concussion. Someone cast ‘Healing Word’ but like, sexy.”

  Lorin raises an eyebrow.

  “…I’ll cast ‘Remove Shirt.’”

  Melodia — entering quietly, brushing ce from her hem — ughs aloud at that. A light, sweet giggle that rings like silver windchimes.

  Daka beams.

  “THAT’S RIGHT. I’M LORE-FRIENDLY NOW.”

  Krummar, deadpan:

  “You’re three jokes away from being banned from your own tavern.”

  ?

  4. MELODIA — Enters, Presence Blooming

  She steps onto the main floor — glowing gently, vender corset dress fitted tight, thigh-high stockings shimmering, tiny beret tilting slightly as she nervously adjusts her moonstone choker.

  Her Presence Score (12) ripples out like a scent, like pressure behind the heart.Eyes drift to her without intention.

  The noblewoman stares. Her lips part. Then shut again.

  Melodia smiles softly — shy, trying.

  “Good… morning.”

  Codex Fallout: Tier 1 (Garterzone Microburst)As she crosses the room, a breeze from the half-open door lifts her skirt just an inch.

  The noblewoman visibly forgets her line.Krummar coughs into his glove.Daka bites his tongue, literally.Mel mutters “Codex 273 active, I swear…”

  Lorin moves to help Melodia into a chair.Melodia sits primly, tugging the hem of her dress lower with both hands.

  ?

  5. THE NOBLEWOMAN — Her Interest Peaks

  She leans toward Krummar now. Close.

  “You said this pce was hiring?”

  Krummar blinks.

  “Did I?”

  She smiles, feline.

  “You didn’t say no.”

  “That… tracks.”

  She lifts her cloak, revealing leather pants, rapier hilt, and a bard’s sigil.

  “Name’s Seravelle. Performer, liar, bad idea. I want in.”

  Daka drops his tray.

  Mel’s eyebrows rise.Lorin’s eyes narrow.

  Melodia sips tea and whispers to herself:

  “Someone’s going to cry today…”

  ?

  [TIME: 8:21 AM]The day thickens.Rain fades. Sun cracks through gray.A performance audition is brewing.Two passive flirtations are escating.And someone just opened a bottle of apricot wine upstairs with no corkscrew.

  ——-[SCENE ONE CONTINUES — KARESHKA’S FAVOR | 8:22 AM | WATERDEEP]Sunlight slices through the rain-fogged windows. Dust motes shimmer. The tavern breathes like a waking animal — warm, stretched, and full of watching.?

  1. SERAVELLE — Trying Too Hard (And Knowing It)

  Seravelle lounges against the bar like she owns the room. She doesn’t. But her hips angle like she might.Leather pants molded like sin, silver-threaded corset, and a half-buttoned blouse expose just enough pale cleavage to feel strategic. She slides a coin across the bar — not toward Daka.

  Toward Lorin.

  “Something sweet. Preferably strong.”

  Lorin’s gaze is surgical. Calm. Silent judgment veiled in velvet.

  “You’ll get tea.”

  “You sure you don’t want to see what I’d do with rum?”

  “I know what you’d do with rum. That’s why you’re getting tea.”

  Daka barks a ugh.

  Krummar mutters, “Daka, don’t.”

  Daka: “But she’s got leather pants! We’re obligated by local ordinance to fight for her attention.”

  Mel snorts, slicing a pastry in half with a flick of her dagger.

  “You wouldn’t survive her boots, let alone her standards.”

  ?

  2. MELODIA — Watching Quietly

  Melodia shifts in her chair, small frame dwarfed by the heavy wood. Her legs cross under the table, thighs pressing close. The short hem of her corset-dress rises half an inch, revealing a full glimpse of lic garter strap.

  Codex 273 Trigger: Passive Fallout Tier 2Lorin straightens her posture automatically.Daka stares, bites his finger.Krummar closes his eyes, murmurs a prayer.Even Seravelle pauses mid-sip.

  Melodia doesn’t notice. She’s watching Seravelle talk to Lorin.Her freckles shimmer once — then fade. She sips tea, hiding behind the cup.

  Inside, she feels something. She’s just not sure what it is yet.

  ?

  3. MEL & DAKA — Kitchen Whisper War

  In the back alcove, Mel pulls Daka by his belt into the pantry with a grunt.

  “She’s not joining the party.”

  “I know! I was just gonna—”

  “No. No what you were gonna.”

  Daka, towering over her, leans down, eyes wide, smirking.

  “You jealous, druid girl?”

  “No. You just flirt like a drunk raccoon and she’s got dagger-boobs.”

  Beat.

  “…okay that’s a little fair.”

  Mel exhales, shoving a basket of apples into his arms.

  “Go polish these. And not with your mouth.”

  “You’re no fun until you are.”

  He exits humming something obscene.

  ?

  4. KRUMMAR — Confrontation by Stillness

  Krummar approaches Seravelle calmly, shadowed by nternlight.

  “You’ll finish your tea and leave.”

  She raises an eyebrow.

  “Is this faith or jealousy talking?”

  “Neither. It’s perimeter security.”

  “That a euphemism?”

  “That’s a warning.”

  His Presence Score (8) weighs the room for a moment — all warmth gone.

  Seravelle finishes her tea in one slow sip, licks the edge of the cup, and sets it down.

  “Tavern’s too hot anyway.”

  She turns. Her hips sway.Her eyes linger on Lorin st.

  “You’re wasted here, you know.”

  Lorin doesn’t answer. But the teacup she’s holding cracks in her hand. Just slightly.

  ?

  [TIME: 8:32 AM]Seravelle is gone.The air clears.No one speaks for a moment. Then:

  Daka:

  “Well that was a lot for tea.”

  Krummar sits.

  Mel leans on her elbow.

  Melodia whispers:

  “…She smelled like leather and sugar.”

  Lorin replies:

  “She smelled like trouble.”

  A beat.

  “You smelled like sugar,” Lorin adds. Quiet. Too quiet.

  Melodia looks down.Smiles.?

  [SCENE TWO — KERESKA’S FAVOR | 9:01 AM | WATERDEEP]The tavern breathes again. Seravelle’s shadow lingers only in the warmth of cups, the twitch of gnces. Now, life returns — measured, personal, unspectacur in the way that feels truer than heroism.

  ?

  1. THE BREAKFAST WINDOW — Quiet Service, Quieter Looks

  The main floor has filled — locals, merchants, a few hungover adventurers from Dock Ward.Lorin, sleeves rolled, glides between tables. Her posture still fwless, even with three trays banced in a single trip. Every motion of hers communicates restraint.

  At one table, a man tries to touch her wrist. A farmer.She steps back, quick — graceful but absolute.

  “Touch the food, not the server.”

  The man flushes. His friend mumbles an apology.

  Mel, watching from behind the counter, rolls an apple under her palm.Her eyes don’t leave Lorin.

  ?

  2. MELODIA — Small Movements, Big Echoes

  Melodia sits at the corner booth — soft cushions, sunlight streaming behind her.She’s writing. Not songs. Letters.

  She addresses them to:? “The Moon.”? “A boy I might love someday.”? “Me, but braver.”

  Her silver-flecked eyes flicker gently, glowing faintly with emotion. One pastry sits untouched.A second is tucked under the table for ter — “Forbidden Cookie Jar” inventory expanded.

  A child passes her table and stares.

  Melodia looks up and smiles.

  The child runs away blushing.

  ?

  3. DAKA — Shirtless Again. By Popur Demand.

  “They asked! They asked this time!”

  He procims it from the bar as he whips his tunic off, revealing his bouncer-thick frame and gleaming green skin beneath the Belt of Swagger.

  Several tavern regurs — mostly women, a few men, one very confused tabaxi — hoot or cp.

  He flexes. His eldritch tattoo pulses, and one of the mugs vibrates off the shelf.

  Krummar, barely looking up from his breakfast stew:

  “Every time you do that, someone in the Nine Hells gains a headache.”

  ?

  4. MEL — Flour, Firewood, and a Moment of Jealousy

  Mel wipes her brow with the hem of her sleeve — revealing the soft curve of her toned shoulder and the faint scars along her upper bicep. She’s restocking the wood pile by the oven.Her hands, strong but graceful, pause.

  She sees Daka shirtless.Then sees Lorin’s eyes flick toward him. Just a second.

  Mel turns away.

  Her jaw clenches.

  She drops a log. Loudly.

  “Firewood’s needy,” she mutters.

  No one hears her.

  But she gnces at Lorin again — and this time, Lorin is watching her.

  They don’t speak.

  ?

  5. KRUMMAR — Upstairs Balcony, Looking Over Them All

  He’s seated cross-legged, one boot off, polishing his mace while reciting business principles to himself.

  “Chapter ten: invest in emotional safety. Hm.”

  He looks down at the others.

  At Daka, showing off.At Mel, working harder than she should.At Lorin, wiping a table that doesn’t need cleaning.At Melodia, humming as she folds a letter with reverent exactness.

  “I am surrounded by radiant chaos,” he murmurs.

  Then, louder:

  “And I love it here.”

  ?

  6. INTIMATE MOMENT — LORIN & MELODIA: Clean Linen & Confession

  Lorin returns upstairs to gather more napkins.

  She finds Melodia folding them.Badly.

  Lorin kneels beside her.

  “They don’t need to be perfect. Just clean.”

  Melodia nods.

  “But I wanted them to be pretty. Like you fold them.”

  Lorin freezes.Looks at her. The moonlight shimmer on Melodia’s skin, the visible garter strap under her dress, the scent of pastry and vender lingering in the air.

  Lorin’s voice lowers.

  “You’re not folding napkins. You’re giving comfort shape.”

  Melodia’s freckles glow.Her breath catches.

  “That’s… poetic.”

  Lorin stands. Slowly.

  “No. That’s you.”

  Melodia watches her leave.She does not move for a long time.

  ?

  [TIME: 9:17 AM]Downtime deepens. Breakfast ends. Rain is gone.A noble carriage waits outside. A message arrives.A mission, maybe. Or trouble. But that’s ter.

  For now —The tea is still warm.The wounds are still quiet.And someone just stole another pastry.

Recommended Popular Novels