Lost in Realm

4

Nhilva still could not believe what she heard as she left the cool cellar and went back to the noisy tavern upstairs. She knew it will be hard to produce a concoction to cure the magical wound. But she did not expect it would be that hard. The ingredients Dimitry named were difficult to obtain, even in the Underdark. She had only seen etchings in both lives she had. Now she had to find them in a wild surface world-a term Drow in the Underdark often use to imply they were more superior in every way. Without many coins in her pouch, it seemed crazy. And she really wasn't keen to head back to Mezoberranzan, considering how they casted her out and the time she spent in the rest of the Underdark. The original host's memory of that place wasn't exactly a pleasant one.

She really did not want to give up on saving the Displacer Beast kitten. No, it had nothing to with that it was a unique creature. To her, it was a precious little life. She was no longer a Drow in soul-deep level-in a way since the original Nhilva inside this body was gone and she came from the real world for Gods know what reason,having empathy toward another being was normal to her. Until she figured out a way to acquire these materials, she would have to use what she had or knew to keep the wee thing breathing.

"A couple of healing balm wands and regular bandage changes, hopefully, will make you hold on until then." She peered down at the kitten in her arms. "I am sorry. Lolth is very thorough. I have very little decent magic power in me now. But I am way better than that merchant, no? His first aid skills are absolutely shocking. I mean, look at those bandages. There are enough of them to make several handkerchiefs. "

First aid?

The small animal's ears twitched at the unfamiliar words that once again slipped from the Drow woman's lips. What word was that? He had no idea what it was, but somehow he had the vague idea it had something to do with his wounds and injuries. On that, he wholeheartedly agreed, the guy's skill was seriously shabby.

"But before that, I suppose we should get us all fed, aye?" He heard the female continue to murmur to his ear. "Let me tell yeh, this One-Eyed Jax is an amazing place for a Drow. Jarlaxle established that all fellow Drow staying here will receive one free meal per day and half price on accommodations. Yes, I am a few weeks behind, but it is still less stressful for me to pay them. Don't you agree? I just need to find some casual contracts. And guess what? There are always heaps here."

He snorted. But of course, he knew about the small jobs. It was practically his bread and butter once upon a time. What he could not fathom was this one's ability to get even one. What could a Drow sorceress do with no magic power? Wash dishes? No matter how generous this Jarlaxle was, the fellow wasn't running a charity organisation. They would be out on the street very soon. He bet his extra pair of legs on it. Wait, how did she know Jarlaxle is the real owner of this place? It wasn't exactly common knowledge.

Curious.

Nhilva did not hear the small noise from her kitten. Her attention and thoughts were entirely on finding a seat in the busy tavern and getting some food. She ordered some wine, a bowl of broth and half loaf of bread. And after some thought, she asked for a small tray of goat's milk. No one really knew what a young displacer beast actually ate. She would just have to hazard a guess from what a normal cat ate. A Beasmaster would know. Alas, she was no Beastmaster. She was just a former Drow priestess who had lost all her power.

The food was served quickly. After she finished most of the broth and all the bread, the drow picked up the wine and started to sip the liquid. Her mind scoured all possibilities of earning some coin and found out about Zurkwood Spores and Barrelstalks. To the best of her knowledge, both of them only grew in the Underdark. She doubted there were any anywhere at all. But there were many drow in this city. They might know something she did not. Maybe she could ask the owner of this tavern? He was here long enough. He might know something.

One problem: She had never met Jarlaxle, not in her past life nor this one.

Or maybe apothecary? That might be easier, although they might know nothing either. Dimitri was the best, and yet even he didn't have those things. What a nightmare.

"The things I do for you, little kitty," she sighed and patted the furball's head. "As if my life isn't hard enough. I am just about as clueless about this strange land as you are. But I really couldn't just leave you in that cage, couldn't I? I am not exactly a drow anymore, after all."

The kitten glanced at her again in confusion. Not a Drow? What did she even mean? Had she looked into a mirror? She looked about as Drow as any other he had encountered. Claws reached out, he scratched her hand and bit her fingers playfully.

Nhilva chuckled. "Feel better to play already? You are still in bandages, yeh know. Best remind you before you do any other crazy things, like displacement. You don't know what that will do to your injuries."

"Aw, what a lovely kitty." Serena whizzed by, collecting tankards and empty plates. She piled them onto her large tray and grinned at the Drow female. Clearly, she couldn't tell what the animal really was due to the bandages. "What's his name?"

"Bishop."