Chapter 7: Medieval Comforts
Logram made Alea's eyes roll. She pretended to try to talk sense into him, for the sake of not looking like a homicidal maniac, but she knew he wouldn't' bite. So, eventually, she wound up stabbing him through the heart and burning all his minions to a crisp. She didn't want to waste time with him, knowing that the longer she took to take care of the orcs, the longer she'd be stuck in this stinking cave. It smelled like urine and blood, and she did not appreciate the suffocating walls. She also didn't want to use too many spells on them, as they'd be fighting undead in the next level.
She also couldn't shake the feeling of homesickness that had started to creep into her lately. Earth wasn't that great, and she didn't lead a very exciting life, but she still had family that would no doubt be wondering what had happened to her at this point. For a grim moment she wondered if they would be very affected by her absence at all. They loved her, and she knew that, but she didn't see them too often. She wondered if they would continue searching for her for years, or if they would presume her dead and move on with their lives.
The thought plagued her, and she frowned, absentmindedly slicing the throats of ghouls that she had set on fire moments earlier. Khelgar caught the look, and once the last undead in the immediate area had been taken out, he turned to her, "You alright, lass? You seem a bit down."
Grobnar responded with his usual cheeriness, "I find a song always perks me up. Would you like to hear one?"
"Later, Grobs, for sure," Alea smiled slightly at the half-insane gnome, then turned back to Khelgar and leaned against the wall with a frustrated sigh, "I just miss home. Where I'm from, there are no ghouls to fight or orcs to slay. Nobody was actively trying to kill me or anyone I knew. The most dangerous thing I'd ever done was walk across the street without looking both ways."
Casavir looked at her curiously, "This sounds like a paradise. What manner of place is it where there are no dangers to overcome?"
"It's not quite that simple," she explained, "It's definitely not paradise, but the threat of death is a lot less prominent there. Although," she admitted, "We don't have healing potions nearly as strong or fast-working as there are here."
"Interesting. If you do not mind my asking, where is this home of yours?"
Neeshka leaned over and whispered in Alea's ear, "Mind if I tell him?"
Alea just nodded and took a sip from her waterskin while Neeshka explained the situation. Well, she explained the parts that Alea had told her. The only one who knew about their being game characters was still Sand. Everyone else just thought she just wound up here at random. Although, Neeshka did wonder at Alea's uncanny ability to know what someone was going to say or do before it happened. She honestly thought it was a little creepy.
"Alea Stormrun, our dearest wizard – who somehow seems to be all-powerful-"
Alea snorted at that, knowing exactly why they thought that. But, her cheats would only carry them through a portion of the game. When she got to her trial by combat, that's when she'd be in any real danger. Until then, she hadn't been worried about her fights.
"Ahem," Neeshka continued, "As I was saying, Alea here, isn't from Neverwinter. Or the Sword Coast. Or anywhere on this entire plane of existence, to put it briefly. She's from some place called America where battle is a lot less common. She got here through some kind of portal or whatever. Now she's here, just trying to survive, despite seemingly countless forces doing their best to end her."
Alea chimed in, "I've got no idea what makes me so important, but people keep trying to kill me, so I might as well roll with the punches and see where I end up." She closed her waterskin and unsheathed her katana, "We should get going. I want out of this wretched hole."
"Yes," Casavir agreed, "Let us press on."
Someone burst through Sand's door, and before he could even look up to see who had so rudely slammed it open, he smelled the odor of blood, rot, and sweat emanating from the offending intruder. He looked up sharply, prepared to tell whoever it was to turn around and walk straight to the nine hells, when he suddenly stopped. It was Alea.
She wore her robe of scintillating colors that just so happened to be covered in what appeared to be several different types of blood, dirt, and the gods know what else. Sweaty, smelly, and glowering, she made quite a sight.
"Please tell me you have a proper bath, with warm water, that isn't just a giant wooden bucket. I am sick of getting splinters in my rear-end every time I try to bathe in the tub at the inn." She stomped into Sand's shop, ignoring the trail of mud she brought in.
"Of course, dear girl. That is, if you can find the clasps to undo that robe of yours under all that grime. You could, of course, simply bathe with them on, but as that is not customary, I can imagine you would prefer not to."
"Great," she breathed a sigh of relief, "where is it? I need it."
"Really? I couldn't tell. It was always my belief that most people preferred to walk around coated in mud and gore. Based on the stink of the city folk here in the docks, you can understand why I would come to that conclusion."
"I swear to Mystra, if you don't tell me where the bath is, and where I can find some soap, I will track mud all over your entire house, including your precious lab-area, and then proceed to steal something from your closet to replace my robes while they're cleaned. Maybe I could take the nice silver one you seem to favor. Or perhaps I'll just use it as a washrag, to get the majority of this gunk off of me."
Sand openly smirked, "Good luck getting to it. The wards prevent anyone but myself from entering my room without express permission. If you even try, you'll be nursing pus-filled boils for a fortnight."
Alea wrinkled her nose, "Ew. What kind of a spell is that?"
"Trust me when I say, you don't want to know. Now if you'll follow me," Sand walked around his counter and disappeared behind a door. Alea followed and found a flight of stairs leading upward to a hallway. Sand opened a door and revealed one of the most beautiful things Alea had seen since coming to the Sword Coast…
He had plumbing.
Alea didn't know how he did it. Maybe it was a magic thing, maybe it was the same scientific water system she'd had at home, maybe she was just straight-up hallucinating. But at the moment, she didn't care. Even if the water was freezing cold, she'd be able to have a proper shower for the first time in months. It suddenly made sense how Sand was able to stay so clean all the time.
"Sweet mother of all that is holy, this is the greatest thing I have ever seen…"
Sand smirked slightly, "Yes, I may live in the docks district, but I still enjoy my comforts. Systems like this are expensive, unless you happen to be someone of considerable arcane talent, who can build complex magical devices such as this. Lucky for you, I am just such a person. Feel free to shower me with praise, no pun intended."
Alea was so overjoyed that she grabbed Sand and kissed him hard on the cheek, "You're the best!" Without another word, she raced into the room and shut the door firmly behind her, leaving a perplexed Sand out in the hallway. He lifted his hand to his cheek, the spot tingled where her lips had met his skin. It was an admittedly rough kiss, no doubt a spur-of-the-moment thing caused by excitement and gratitude, but it was a kiss just the same. He stood there for a moment, still as a statue, trying to process what had just happened, when the door opened again. He hurriedly dropped his hand, hoping that Alea hadn't noticed his stunned, blushing expression. It didn't help that she was hiding behind the door, holding her dress out to him.
"Hey, could you do me a favor?"
"Besides granting you access to a highly-coveted magical system that produces warm, free-flowing water?" He raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unaffected by the fact that her bare shoulder was completely visible to him, and the only thing between him and her was a slab of wood, without which she would be completely exposed.
She rolled her eyes and continued, "Could you run over to the Flagon and give this to Duncan to wash? Then pick up another set of clothing if you can? I'd really appreciate it," Alea gave Sand her best puppy dog eyes, and the most charming smile she could muster, hoping that even the cold and calculating Sand would give in.
She was not disappointed. Sighing Sand took the filthy robe between two fingers, holding it away from him to avoid getting any of the grime on himself, "Very well. Though if that insufferable girl Qara is there, I may just drop it on the floor and leave. I do not like the girl, and every conversation I've ever had with her annoys me to the point of having to actively hold myself back from casting a silence spell on her."
Alea waved her hand dismissively, "Oh hush, she'll probably just ignore you anyways. Just don't look in her general direction and it'll be fine." With that, she once again closed the door behind her. Sand heard the sound of running water, and Alea's sigh of contentment as she stepped into the shower.
He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he finally released it, his heart pounding. Was this happening? Was Alea in his washroom right then? Was he actually holding her robes, as she stood, completely unclothed, only a few feet away from him? He took a deep breath to calm himself and immediately regretted it. Her robe was putrid. He nearly coughed as the scent of her latest adventure assaulted his nose. Holding it as far away from himself as his arms would allow, Sand strode to the Sunken Flagon to find Duncan tending the counter.
"Ah, if it isn't the prince of stench himself. I bring an offering for your vast kingdom."
Duncan looked up and glared at Sand, "What do you want, ya half-baked charlatain?"
Sand dropped Alea's robe on the counter, right where Duncan had just finished cleaning, "This belongs to your dear niece. Apparently, she felt the accommodations at your facility were somewhat lacking in cleanliness. Something about splinters in her backside. Long story short she is using the washroom in my shop, which I imagine is far more comfortable than the ones provided here. She has tasked me with requesting you wash her robe, and give me access to her rooms so that I can bring her new ones."
Duncan looked more than a little furious, "I'll be burnin' in the hells before I let you into Alea's bedroom unattended! The gods only know what sick things you would do in there by yourself."
Sand wrinkled his nose at the insinuation, and glowered at the wood elf, "Then by all means, bring them yourself. But unless you're comfortable with your beloved niece walking across the streets completely disrobed, I suggest you provide me with a set of clothing to give her once she's finished ridding herself of the grime she's accumulated from staying in this filthy inn of yours."
Duncan fumed, but turned to his one and only employee, "Sal, get this robe washed thoroughly, and keep an eye on this pitiful excuse for a wizard. I'll be right back." With one more angry look at Sand, Duncan climbed the stairs and used his skeleton key to get into Alea's room. Opening the closet, he grabbed the first robe he saw and stormed back down the stairs, where Sand was waiting with a bored expression on his face. "Here," Duncan tossed the robe to Sand, who caught it in one hand, "Don't even think about doin' anything with that robe that isn't handin' it directly to Alea."
Rolling his eyes with a dramatic sigh, Sand headed toward the door, "Unlike you, I am not an ill-mannered drunk. I have far more decorum to do anything but give her what she specifically asked for. And by the way," He turned, holding up the garment, "this is a dress, not a robe. Please learn the difference before you make an even bigger fool of yourself," and with that, he was out the door, closing it behind him before Duncan could respond.
Sand knocked on the washroom door, and Alea called out, "Yes?"
"I have your clothes," he said simply.
"Oh, good!" The sound of water stopped and the door opened. Alea peeked her head out, visibly cleaner. "I was just finishing up," she grabbed the dress from Sand's outstretched hand, "You don't by chance happen to have a towel do you?"
"I suppose you'll be asking me to fetch you one next. I am not your servant, you know, I do have other things to do than run errands at your beck and call," he stated, somewhat lying. He wouldn't delude himself into thinking that he wouldn't do whatever she asked. He was wrapped around her finger; but Alea didn't need to know that.
"Please," she asked sweetly, giving him her puppy-dog impression once again.
His resolve melted and he turned with a sigh toward his storage closet. Grabbing one of the softer towels, he brought it to her and raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "Is there anything else I can do for you, your highness?"
"Yes," she smiled, "shut up." With that she disappeared back behind the door, and Sand allowed himself a large grin.
Shaking his head, he wandered back down the stairs and began to close the shop. It was getting late and he doubted he'd see any more customers for the rest of the night. The only people who stayed out this late were either up to something shady, or they simply wanted to get hopelessly drunk.
A few minutes later, Alea came down the stairs, far happier than when she had come in. She was cleaner than he could remember ever seeing her, and her dress complemented her form nicely. Sand appreciated the view in silence as she floated about the room, "That felt so good," she smiled, content, "You have no idea how much I've missed showers."
"I believe I would be safe in assuming it was a lot," he replied, packing away some of the potions and casting the locking wards back on his cupboards.
She briefly looked in a mirror, "Wow, I really was grimy… My skin is two shades lighter."
"I must admit the smell is a lot better as well," Sand commented absently, "Perhaps you ought to avoid using the Flagon's washroom from this point on. I don't think I've ever seen you this clean."
"That," she said brightly, "Is a grand idea. Thanks for the offer."
"I beg your pardon…?"
"There's no way you're keeping me from that shower, now that I know it's there. You should expect to see much more of me from here on out." With that she placed her now damp towel on the countertop and turned to the door. Over her shoulder she added, "Breakfast tomorrow. My treat. Be over at sunrise, so we can go over everything that happened while I was gone."
The door closed behind her and Sand blinked in surprise. Had she just offered to cook for him? Surely, she didn't expect him to eat that garbage Duncan served to his guests, did she?
She did not. Alea walked into the Sunken Flagon and greeted Duncan with a cheery smile, "Hello, Uncle, it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too, Alea. Say, that charlatan didn't try anything with you, did he? He said you were washin' up at his place. He even tried to convince me to let him into your room. I told him he could go to the hells."
Alea just reached up and planted a soft kiss on her uncle's cheek, "I trust Sand. Anyway, mind if I use the kitchen tomorrow morning? I want to make something myself."
"Of course, what's mine is yours. Use whatever you like."
"Thanks," she smiled sweetly, "Oh, and as for Sand, if he needs something from my room, just let him in. Chances are I'll have sent him there myself. Besides, it's not like he's going to steal my dresses and try them on."
"Now that's an image," Neeshka walked up, giving Alea a playful nudge, "I doubt I'll be able to look him in the eyes again without picturing him in your lady's things. It'll sure be hard to keep a straight face after that."
"Sweet Tyr, Neesh, I said dresses, not underwear. Get your mind out of the gutter." Despite her scolding words, she laughed, not able to get the image of Sand wearing frilly women's undergarments out of her head.
"Ah, you've returned," a deep voice greeted her. She turned to see Casavir had also bathed and changed out of his armor. "I was hoping to hear more about this place you come from."
"Baaaaah," A loud voice boomed, "Let's stop talkin' already and start drinkin'! I'll bet ten gold pieces that I can out-drink anyone in this whole city. Any challengers?"
Neeshka grinned, "Oh, you are SO on."
Alea yawned, "Actually, I think I'm gonna head to bed. I'm exhausted."
"As you wish, my lady," Casavir bowed slightly, "Rest well."
She moved up the stairs and climbed into the bed, happy to be off her feet for the first time since she'd left for Old Owl Well. That night, she dreamt of sitting by a warm fire. Someone was holding her safe in their arms. Her, and the person with her, were doing nothing but enjoying each other's quiet presence. It was so simple, but it was one of the sweetest dreams she'd ever had.
A small part of her noted that the person in her dream looked a lot like Sand.