
The Beached Leviathan — Seeking Company
You turn from the guild board, your fingers still tingling from the texture of rough paper and dried ink. The four paths before you are clear, but you know the oldest truth of the Sword Coast: a lone adventurer is a dead adventurer.
The Beached Leviathan hums with the low murmur of dockworkers, off-duty sailors, and the clatter of dice on stained tables. The air is thick with pipe smoke, fish stew, and desperation. You scan the room with the practiced eye of someone who has learned to read people before they read you.
Your gaze sweeps past the hooded figure in the corner—still watching, still silent—and settles on the tavern's other patrons.
Near the fire, a tall half-elf woman sits alone, her scale armor gleaming dully in the firelight. A well-worn longsword leans against her chair, and a silver raven pin glints on her collar—the mark of a sellsword who has seen real combat. She nurses a tankard of ale, her eyes tracking the room with quiet competence. Her boots are scuffed, her hands calloused, and the scar running from her temple to her jaw tells you she's no novice.
At a table by the window, two dwarves are deep in an argument about the price of iron ingots. They're likely merchants, not fighters—you dismiss them.
In the corner opposite the hooded figure, a thin elven man in travel-stained robes is scribbling in a leather-bound journal, muttering to himself. A wand case hangs at his belt, and a faint scent of ozone clings to him. A wizard, perhaps—but one who looks like he hasn't slept in days.
And then there's Harrag, the half-orc barkeep himself. He's polishing a mug with a rag that might once have been white, his scarred arms rippling with muscle. He caught your interest in the guild board earlier—and he might know more than he lets on.
You have a few options for finding a companion:
- Approach the half-elf sellsword — She looks capable and experienced. A fighter would cover your weaknesses in a straight fight.
- Speak to the elven wizard — A spellcaster could be invaluable, though he seems distracted and possibly unreliable.
- Ask Harrag for advice — The barkeep knows everyone in the Docks. He could point you toward someone trustworthy.
- Head out alone and trust your luck — Companions slow you down. You've survived this long on your own wits.
The fire crackles. The dice clatter on a nearby table. The night is still young, and Neverwinter is full of people looking for work—or looking for trouble.
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Theron Blackwood
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