An Interesting Day

I woke with a clear head today. A rarity, in this era of my life. Who would have thought living on the straight and narrow would be so difficult? Certainly not me. You'd think I know better considering how well read and intelligent I am. If I only applied myself, I could probably be one of the most celebrated noble lords in all of Waterdeep. Alas, you can take a troubled boy out of the streets, but you can't take the streets out of a troubled boy.
I had a simple breakfast of fried eggs. In the old days, I would just wake up and steal whatever I was hungry for. (That, or just drink the rest of the previous night's wine for breakfast.) Now that I'm working for Viktor Trench, I find that quick, simple meals are all that time will afford me. After my eggs, I hopped in a carriage bound for Mr. Trench's flat. Trench and his cat joined me in that carriage and we set off for the Yawning Portal. He was as nebulous and sharp as ever.
We only got part of the way there when the city watch stopped our carriage. Trench had me get out to see what was afoot. I saw what I believe to be some sort of crime scene made to look like a crash of carriages. Whoever perpetrated the crime left all the riches, including a brilliant ring with a red jewel that I pocketed. I figured, if nothing else, this treasure that I "found" might help Loraleth stay on top of some of her financial obligations.
I got back into the carriage and explained everything to Trench. I showed him the ring, and surprisingly, he couldn't make heads or tails of the script on the inside of the golden band, but did note that it reeked of abjuration. I slipped on the ring for safe keeping. We took the carriage the rest of the way to the Yawning Portal.
The Portal is a fine establishment, perfect for mundane patrons and adventurers alike. In my opinion, it lacks a certain charm that smaller, grimier establishments like my father's tavern have. Our meeting was with one Jalester Silvermane, a guardsman convinced that his partner was slain by someone other than the killer Mr. Trench and I caught last year. I'm struggling to remember the finer points of that conversation, now. A lot happened at the Yawning Portal.
First, a commotion at the tavern caught my attention. It seemed as though a group of ne'erdowells had set upon an orcish lady at the bar. Having somewhat of an affinity for ladies who aren't strictly human, I was quick to confront the thugs. Luckily, my endeavor was aided by a tiefling woman I would later come to know as Marlaia. We succeeded in running off the troublemakers, but the orc (Yagra, I believe her name was) was adamant that she could have handled the situation on her own.
After that situation had dissolved, Mr. Trench and I continued our meeting with Silvermane until there was another interruption. The Yawning Portal had been set upon by a troll and a swarm of bloodsucking insectoid creatures. Because of the latter, I nearly met my end. Thankfully, other patrons of the Portal were able to fight off the invaders. Someone was able to turn me away from death's door. There I was thinking that my chances of meeting a violent end were at an all time low.
I suppose I should mention that a Djinn summoned himself from the ring I wore. The tavern owner couldn't tell if he was friend or foe. Though his visage is fearsome and his language is strange, I could tell he was good at his core from his confused, yet gentle body language. He insists on being called Scorch. He has amnesia. We have a telepathic link. I'm not sure what to make of it, yet.
After the brouhaha, Trench continued his interview with Silvermane. I eavesdropped on a meeting between those patrons of the Portal who joined in the battle and a man named Volo. After hearing that the person Volo was looking for, Floon Blackmar, was last seen at the Skewered Dragon, I decided to butt into the conversation and offer my services. These strange characters, lizard people, the lot of them, could surely use my savvy wiles on this job, I thought.
The trio included a dragonborn and two goodly kobolds. Daara the dragonborn is a bard who plays the bagpipes. I find that her music has a unique quality that makes for a satisfying listen. She seems friendly enough. She's sensitive about her physical characteristics, namely her horns. The kobolds are called Igris and Urku. Urku (a paladin of Bahamut, believe it or not) seems to be the more intelligent and civilized of the two. Igris, a simple minded savage, follows Urku's lead for the most part, taking frequent detours to find whatever scraps of food that he can.
Volo offered us gold to track down his friend. 10 gold up front and 100 upon his safe delivery. Not bad for a gig. I even managed to negotiate a doubled payment for Scorch when I convinced Volo that he was on our side and benevolent to our cause. I wonder if the djinn will give me a kickback for negotiating his pay. Only time will tell.
On our way to the Skewered Dragon, we came upon an instance of brutal gang violence. (Such things are all too common in this day and age.) There was nothing I could do to help the guard round everyone up, so we continued on our way until we noticed that someone followed us. We tried to set up an ambush, but due to the simple minded nature of our kobold companions, we failed miserably. Our stalker was none other than Marlaia, the tiefling from the portal. After a brief, awkward discussion, she agreed to help us on our quest.
Before heading into the Skewered Dragon, my coterie entered a place called the Old Zablob Shop. The proprietor was a perverted professional of purple parcels, and I didn't like him one bit. I nearly attacked him when he demanded a lock of Marlaia's hair in exchange for vague information about a street brawl.
After that strange shop we finally entered the Skewered Dragon. It had that charm that my father's place has, but they overcharged for drinks and was bursting at the seams with Zintarum gangsters. I ordered an expensive round of drinks for everyone, but the crowd didn't seem to warm up to us. We piddled about for a bit. Once I got tired of waiting around, I waited for one of the gangsters to enter the lavatory and then I threatened him at knifepoint to get information. It turns out they were holding both Floon and Reinar Neverember in a warehouse on Candle Lane. I slipped out of the bar and tried to run away, but the Zintarum were fast upon us. My intention was to keep running, but when Daara unloaded with her breath weapon, I knew I had to stay and fight. This situation was all my fault, after all. My shortbow never gets a lot of use, so I was shocked that I manage to put an arrow in one of the gangster's throats. My comrades made surprisingly short work of the gangsters. When they were down to their last man, I convinced him to drop his weapon and surrender. We cajoled him into giving up his life of crime and coming with us on our quest. Later, I found out his name is Erik.
As night fell, I knew that I was handicapped compared to my companions. They can all see in the dark to an extent. In the past, I would always wait for a brilliantly moonlit night before I took on my jobs, or even work during the day. In the blackness, my human eyes betray me. I had no choice but to light a lantern on our way to the warehouse.
When we got there, it was clear from all the dead bodies that there was yet another gang rumble there. I turned a corner and we were set upon by Xanathar kenku assassins. One nearly killed Marlaia, but we prevailed in the end. We searched the warehouse. I found a coded ledger and some kind of box. I should turn these into Mr. Trench as soon as possible. Perhaps he can use them to strike a mortal blow against the Zintarum. We also found one of the missing men, Reinar Neverember. No Floon, though sadly. We also found a fabulous treasure about the time the city watch showed up. Despite my desperate efforts to trick Eustace Stagget into letting me near the treasure. I had to abandon it. We did get off the hook for all the dead gangsters, though.
Igris managed to find a paper with directions to a Xanathar hideout. Previous to writing this journal entry, I decoded it. We managed to convince Neverember to stay the night at the Grey Serpent. (Besk Yorland was pleasant to deal with, discreet as always.) In the morning, we descend into the sewers. I dread what horrors we may encounter down there.