To Hell and Back
1. The Broken City
I looked down at the city in front of me. Waterdeep. I'd heard so much about it, but never before had I seen it with my own eyes. As it turns out, the stories are much nicer than the reality.
From what I could see, Waterdeep was a broken city, more like a ghost-town than a thriving metropolis. But perhaps I'm being unfair. Two days ago, as I was making my way towards the place, a merchant travelling in the opposite direction told me that the Lords, seemingly powerless to halt the invasions into the streets, had imposed a curfew. Now, anybody who didn't have genuine reason to be out on the streets, was confined to their home. Allowances were made only for guards and adventurers who had come to answer the call of the Lords of Waterdeep.
The sun was well below the horizon as I made my way along the cobblestone road, heading towards the nearest gate. I was conscious that my skin was dusty and my clothes were travel-stained, and, as I expected, the guards stopped me as I neared the gate and asked me to state my business. I smiled at them, because my mother had taught me that good manners didn't cost a penny. I had never forgotten those words of wisdom, even when I had taken to running wild in the streets of Baldur's Gate.
"My name is Sinisalo. I'm here to answer the call for adventurers. I did send word by pigeon that I would come... perhaps you have been expecting me?"
"Sinisalo?" asked one guard, running a skeptical eye over me. "I'd heard that you were coming, but I thought it was just a rumour being tossed around by desperate people."
"You don't look much like the hero outta Shadows of Undrentide," said a second guard, leaning casually on his pike to run a most inappropriate eye over me. I winced as he mentioned the novel.
"Ah, you've read the book then? Unfortunately, the writer has a tendency for exaggeration. I can assure you that I am she, and Lathander strike me down if I'm lying. And if that isn't good enough for you, I can always leave. There are plenty of people who are deserving of my help, and I will leave it to you to explain to the Lords why I was turned away."
"No need to be so hasty!" the guard said quickly. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Milady. Of course you may enter... we're only charged with keeping out dodgy types and monsters... and you don't look like either!"
I smiled again. Had he seen me in broad daylight, and without my long, flowing cloak, he might have thought otherwise. I had changed, in some ways, since the story of my largest adventure to date had gone public and sold out. But in other ways, I was still the same, and old habits die hard. I was tired, dirty, and hungry. All of those things needed addressing.
"My thanks. Perchance you can point me in the direction of an inn or tavern?"
"All adventurers are to report to the Yawning Portal." He pointed to the roof of a building several streets away. "That's Durnan's place, and he's the one in charge of assembling the adventuring party. He's actually been down there, you know... nobody else has done that and come back."
"An amazing feat," I agreed. I had no idea who "Durnan" was, or where "down there" was supposed to mean, but I didn't want to seem ignorant. I would learn all that I needed to know, in time.
"Er, Milady?" said the first guard. "Do you think, maybe, that once you're settled at the Portal... well, maybe... if I brought my copy of Undrentide, would you be able to sign it for me? I read it to my kids every night, and they'd be ecstatic if the actual real hero was to sign it for them."
"Of course." I slipped two silver coins from my purse, and tossed them to the guards. "And once you're done with your shifts, buy yourselves a drink."
"Thank you, Milady!" they both said, bowing and touching their helmets respectfully. I gave them a slight nod of my head, and set off to the building which had been indicated to me.
I had learnt -- the hard way -- that guards could either be your best friends or the greatest annoyance an adventurer could encounter. All it took was one guard who thought you were looking at him askance, who thought that because you were tired and dusty that he was better than you, and you were sitting in a cell listening to some dull little magistrate drone on and on about breaches of laws. Now, wherever I went, I made a point of getting on the good side of local guards.
The Yawning Portal seemed comely enough, at least on the outside. Light spilled out into the street from its stained-glass windows, and from within, music was just audible. I made an attempt at brushing off the dust from my clothes, though it made little difference, and stepped into the tavern. A young dark-haired woman immediately approached me, offering a small bow.
"Welcome to the Yawning Portal, my lady. My name is Tamsil. What can I do for you this evening?"
"I was directed here by the guards," I told her without preamble. "My name is Sinisalo, and I'm here to speak to Durnan regarding his adventuring party."
"Durnan is my father, he runs this inn. But he won't be speaking to adventurers until the morning," the girl smiled. Then a look of comprehension dawned on her face. "Wait, you're the Sinisalo? The hero of..."
"Yes, that's correct," I interrupted quickly. This was a familiar scene wherever I went, and I didn't want anybody over-hearing the girl and rushing over to express their awe and admiration for me. Sometimes I really wish Deekin hadn't written his damned book. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm very tired from travelling. Do you have any rooms?"
"Oh yes, of course, please forgive me. I'll show you to one right away! Can I take your bag?" she asked, reaching for my backpack. I immediately took a step backwards.
"Ah, no. It's warded. Unless you feel a sudden urge to explode into a thousand little chunky bits, I wouldn't touch it if I were you."
The girl withdrew her hand as if I had told her my bag were a viper, and a look of horror passed across her face.
"Oh, ah, well... if you'd like to follow me, then?" I nodded for her to lead the way, and she took me up the stairs and along a corridor. As we walked, I made note of the windows, exits, and other bedroom doors. It always paid to know the quickest exit routes out of a building. That was something else I had learnt the hard way.
The room Tamsil showed me to was of a decent size, with a comfortable bed. I kicked off my boots and sank down onto the mattress, heaving a massive sigh of relief. Everybody takes beds for granted. It is only after months on the road that you come to appreciate the simple pleasures of life; a comfortable mattress, a warm plate of something edible, and a pint of beer that isn't too stale. The Yawning Portal had these things in abundance. As I lay back, familiarising myself with the ceiling, Tamsil saw fit to bring me a plate of something warm and a glass of something cool. I thanked her, ushered her out of the room, and tucked into my food with a vengeance.
By the Gods, it was good to have a roof over my head again. There's a feeling of safety you get from being surrounded entirely by solid walls. Sure, you sacrifice the freedom of the open land, but there's no need to set up camps, to arrange rotas of who's keeping watch, to be constantly ready for battle.
I polished off the food, quaffed the ale so quickly that it would have made any dwarf proud, and rid myself of my dirty clothes. I washed myself with water from the stand, noting how it turned grey, then brown, and finally black, as I scrubbed days' worth of dirt from my body. Then I put my backpack inside a chest -- you can never be too safe, I always say -- and crawled into bed. I nestled down under the quilts, pulling them upto my neck, feeling the bed warm with the heat of my body. Tomorrow I would find out what adventures awaited me with this tavern-keeper, this 'Durnan'. But for now, sleep beckoned.