Waterdeep

A thin, wiry human rogue with tanned, weather-worn skin, a grizzled salt-and-pepper beard, and a perpetual squint. He supports his bad leg with a well-worn carved wooden crutch. Dressed in patched sailor’s clothes, usually an apron stained with herbs and stew grease over a faded coat. His sharp, alert eyes have a haunted look.

Tells wild stories that may or may not be true—hence “Tall-Tale”. Very observant; notices small things others miss. No tolerance for waste, cruelty, or pretension. Keeps his cards close to his chest but opens up to people who’ve proven themselves. Surprisingly sentimental about food, and will fiercely protect his kitchen.

Tally spent the better part of his life aboard smuggling ships, sailing the Sword Coast and cooking for criminals, pirates, and dock gangs. On one voyage, his crew decided to steal the cargo instead of delivering it, triggering a chase through a storm that ended with their ship at the bottom of the sea. He survived—barely—but the Guilds and gangs involved didn’t forget. He’s since laid low in Waterdeep, working odd jobs, sleeping in flophouses, and keeping his head down. He knows the darker parts of the Dock Ward better than most, and he still has a few smuggler contacts—people who owe him favors, or at least won’t slit his throat. Tally saw the job posting and decided to gamble on something stable for once. The crew didn’t ask too many questions about his past, and he liked that they offered him respect despite his limp and his rough looks. He promised to cook well, stretch every copper, and also made it clear that if something needs to be moved under the radar, he can arrange it.