It was a lazy afternoon at Old Nan’s Manor, the kind of day where stories seem to hang in the air just waiting to be plucked and told. That’s when I saw him, Durnan, the legendary innkeeper of the Yawning Portal, making his way up the path to the Manor. Now, don’t get me wrong, Durnan is as fine a fellow as any, but with him comes a certain… inevitability. Before you know it, you’re seated, drink in hand, sworn into an audience for tales of Undermountain that last well into the night.
I did what any self-respecting gnome with a keen sense of self-preservation would do—I hid! Yes, behind the nearest, unfortunately sparse, potted plant. As Durnan entered, his imposing figure seemed to fill the room, a stark contrast to the quiet afternoon that had preceded him. His presence commanded attention, his voice rich with the promise of adventure and danger, the kind that shaped his inn, the Yawning Portal, for what it is!
Durnan, with his keen innkeeper’s eyes, scanned the room. I held my breath, hoping the plant was more concealing than it felt. He was a man of considerable charm and persuasion; refusing him was like trying to say no to a dragon hoarding gold—it just wasn’t done.
Sneaking a peek from my leafy hideaway, I couldn’t help but admire the figure he cut, a seasoned adventurer turned innkeeper, his attire blending the practical with the unmistakable flair of someone who’s faced the depths of Undermountain and lived to tell the tale. His hair, though graying, hinted at a life lived boldly, and his eyes sparkled with the mirth of someone who knows the value of a good story.
Just when I thought I might escape notice, our eyes met across the room. His look of mock-surprise and amusement was all the confirmation I needed that my hiding spot had been less than effective. With a good-natured chuckle, he beckoned me over, the inevitable pull of his charisma impossible to resist. “Loman, my friend, there’s no escaping good company,” he called out, a twinkle in his eye that promised laughter and stories of daring escapades below Waterdeep. And ale…
Resigned to my fate, I emerged from my not-so-secret sanctuary, and settled into a seat I slowly, just as I did with my logbook, I farewelled my mind for the day.
In the heart of Waterdeep, where tales and mysteries intertwine, stands an inn known as the Yawning Portal. But it’s not just the name that draws travelers and adventurers from all corners of Faerûn; it’s the figure behind the bar, a man named Durnan. With a grizzled appearance that speaks of a lifetime of battles and an air of quiet wisdom, Durnan’s presence in the is a welcoming light for those seeking both refuge and the unknown.
Despite his exterior, Durnan’s heart held love for his family. He was married to Mhaere Dryndilstann, a woman much younger than him, and their daughter Tamsil Dryndilstann was raised with a warrior’s spirit. The age difference between Durnan and his wife was significant, yet their bond remained unbreakable.
Durnan’s life began in the frigid North, where he roamed as “The Wanderer,” earning his name by battling monsters that dared cross his path. Though he seldom spoke of it, he held a deep aversion to hobgoblins. There were whispers that he might have experienced personal losses due to their raids, a past shrouded in silence. His eyes would darken, and a shadow would pass over his face whenever the subject arose, hinting at memories best left untouched.
A Formidable Warrior with a Thinking Man’s Mind
Durnan’s prowess in combat was matched only by his immense physical strength. Armed with a dagger, handaxe, or a longsword, he faced adversaries head-on, exhibiting not only brawn but also a keen intellect. He possessed a rare depth of knowledge about various weapons and martial arts, and distant lands like Kara-Tur and the Hordelands. Though he lacked the power of spellcasting, his understanding of magic was considerable, allowing him to discern the properties of various spells.
Whether wielding a dagger, handaxe, or longsword, Durnan was more than met the eye. Hidden amongst his weapons was this secret magical blade. He adorned his body with protective magic items like bracers of defense and distributed similar enchantments among his family members.
The Depths of Undermountain and Secrets Unveiled
In the year 1302 DR, he embarked on a treacherous journey alongside his trusted companion, Mirt the Merciless. Together, they ventured into the depths of Undermountain, a labyrinthine domain hidden in the shadows.
It was said that none who dared to venture into the heart of Halaster’s domain returned unscathed – yet Durnan and Mirt did the impossible. They emerged not only alive but laden with riches, having plundered the depths of the dungeon itself. The treasures they brought back, amassed from the darkness below, were the seeds that sprouted the legend of the Yawning Portal.
Durnan’s exploits were not merely tales whispered by the hearth; they were etched into the stones of Waterdeep, carved into its history with each coin spent in his inn. With the spoils of their successful expedition, he dismantled the remnants of Halaster’s Hold, an abandoned fortress, and erected the Yawning Portal in its place. The inn’s very foundation was built upon the tales of their victory and the promise of greater treasures hidden beneath.
But it wasn’t just gold and gems they carried from the depths of Undermountain. His experiences in the dark, winding passages of that accursed dungeon gifted him insights into weapons, martial arts, and magical properties beyond the comprehension of most. It was as though he had become a living tome, each page filled with the arcane and martial wisdom gleaned from the heart of darkness.
And there, nestled amidst the treasures and the knowledge, were the fabled potions of longevity. Durnan emerged from Undermountain clutching at least eight doses of these mystical elixirs – potions that promised to stretch the threads of life far beyond their natural span.
A Secret Leader and Vigilante
The Yawning Portal, once a simple inn, became a monument to his prowess – a place where heroes and adventurers, drawn by the tales of Durnan’s journey, descended into the depths to seek their own fortunes and rewrite history. But beyond the acquaintanceship in the inn, Durnan held connections that spanned Waterdeep’s intricate web of intrigue. He was a close friend of Khelben “Blackstaff” Arunsun and harbored a secret affiliation with the Red Sashes, a vigilant group committed to upholding justice. This secret leadership role coexisted with his position as one of the Lords of Waterdeep, a dual identity that showcased his complex role in the city’s shadows.
A Heart for Tymora and a Shield for the Unfortunate
His relationship with Lady Luck, Tymora, was marked by a daily ritual. He paid the temple to send one of their clerics to heal those in need, a gesture that came at a cost. This connection ensured that fortune favored his patrons within the Yawning Portal. His loyalty extended beyond divine ties; Durnan’s employ of loyal fighters, disguised as customers, added an extra layer of protection.
