The Journal of Aerin Fletcher, Werebear Barbarian

1st of Flamerule, 1498 (Session 1)

I got this letter a couple weeks ago from a man named Volothamp or something like that. Apparently he's a famous author, even though I've never heard of him before he contacted me, and he's in the middle of writing a book on monsters. He's interested in my clan and the culture within a werebear society. He asked me to meet him at The Yawning Portal in Waterdeep, a bar in the Dock District. Seems like a odd place to meet someone who can't drink.

Walking into The Yawning Portal, I was taken aback slightly. I've never really been into town before, let alone an establishment like this, and these sights and smells were new and interesting to me. I clutched the letter in my hand a little tighter and surveyed the large room.

There was a long bar to the left of me, a bartender serving patrons their grog and ale. In the far right corner was a small stage, perfect for a travelling bard. In the very center of the tavern, surrounded by wooden tables and chairs, was a deep pit. Just a huge open hole in the middle of the room. It was definitely weird to see something like that in a bar, but I didn't really think anything of it.

I found Volo sitting at a table next to the pit, journal in hand and writing some interview questions I assumed, waiting for me. I slowly made my way up to him, making sure not to bump into any patrons and took a seat. I took in my surroundings a little more and watched the people around me. At the bar, there was a goat-man drinking a large alcoholic beverage while stroking his bright red beard and joking with the bartender. I've never seen another animal person out in public like this, let alone someone so ragged. He must've been through something, I thought to myself. I eyed the flintlock pistol on his hip and studied him a little, listening to his faint thick Scottish accent amongst the other guests and the soft tavern music.

My eyes shifted to the source of that music. It sounded so otherworldly. I've never heard anything like this back home. It had this haunting, ethereal quality to it that seemed so dream-like. I was entranced, to say the least. The person playing what I assumed was a viol or a violin looked very peculiar. I say that after seeing a literal goat-man drowning his sorrows in booze. This being, for a lack of better words, looked human but I knew there was more to them than that. Their ears were slightly pointed and when they smiled to their small audience, I could see small fangs. Not as big and sharp as my canines, but they could definitely do some damage.

I snapped back into reality as Volo slammed his notebook shut and set it on the table. He placed his hands on top of it and leaned in towards me. He looked me in the eyes, squinting slightly, and nodded to himself. As he leaned back into chair, he took his pint of ale and started a conversation, of which I was too preoccupied with staring down the deep pit next to us.

He was about to take a sip of his beverage when I heard a commotion deep within the hole. It sounded like laughing? Or screaming? It might've been a mix of both. Volo practically fell out of his chair when three imps and a barbed devil emerged from the pit. I got an overwhelming sense of fear for myself and Volo behind me, so I did what any werebear does. I shifted.

I began to hunch over and my shoulders started to tense up. Tufts of brown and black fur popped up all over my body, starting from my spine and going out to my arms and legs. My short nails soon turned into long, dagger-like claws. My teeth felt too big for my mouth, as my canines began to enlarge. After the transformation, I regained my footing, putting myself in between Volo and the intruders, and got into a battle stance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Volo scramble for his notebook and hurriedly took notes on my transformation, as well as the creatures that stood in front of me.

The barbed devil made a beeline for me and tried to grab me. Using my warhammer, I took the biggest swing I could at its gut, knocking it back a good 5 feet. I tried to roar in its face to show who he was dealing with, but I choked on a hairball a little. He got the point.