NB. Finally gave in and use a certain upper and lower case spellings on names. (le sigh)

Lost in Realm

16

Dimitri the myconid had given her a formula to heal her displacer beast cub, Bishop: zurkhwood spores, barrelstalk and potent healing potion, two of which could only be grown in the Underdark. Spores of zurkhwood were a delicacy among Menzoberranzen drow. Its complex time and method of harvest made it tricky to obtain. Apparently, only the Matron Mothers of the top houses were able to have them once or twice every few years. How Jarlaxle was able to get these was really curious. And this fresh? She couldn't help but wonder if they were from the black market.

Also, how did he know she needed them? She was fairly certain her discussion with the myconid potion brewer were exclusive, since there were only the two of them in the room. Did he cast a scrying spell on them? But, why?

This was really strange.

Regardless, she had one of the ingredients she needed to help her kitten.

She glanced over at the tiny fur ball at the foot of the bed. Bishop had reappeared at her side when Jarlaxle's men carried her out, drained and barely able to stand. She sat up a little and brought him closer for examination. Some of his non-magic wounds that had healed were bleeding again.

"Is it just me, or does the wee fella looks a lot worse than the last time I saw him?" Serena asked.

"Aye." Nhilva sighed. "I should have left him in my room. But, in a way, he saved my life."

He did, by distracting Jhalnin and buying her time before help arrived. Although neither of them knew whether there was help on the way, or who would be coming to help. She supposed he put quite a few bets on many scenarios. It was a rather smart move for an animal.

"Is he going to be all right?" asked the barmaid.

"Let's hope so." The drow ran her hand gently over the fur that wasn't covered by bandages. "Can I bother you for some more bandages? I need to change his dressing."

"Certainly, m'dear." Serena quickly left the room to fetch them.

Nhilva spent another day in bed before she felt well enough to even leave the room. During this time, she started to consider the next step. Now she had one of the harder-to-get ingredients for the potion that healed magically-inflicted wounds, as well as some coins, she must admit it made her life a little easier. Yet, in a way, she still needed to find barrelstalk. It was another type of fungus only found in the Underdark. There were cauldrons made of them, as far as she knew. Although she doubted it was what Dimitri was after, she knew the mushroom pulp and juice could be harvested when young. But they were difficult to store, even with magic, after separated from the hard shell. If by some miracle, that someone actually brought one here, it would no doubt cost a fortune; three-hundred gold coins would most definitely not be enough. Adding the necessary spending on the top of that, she would need more.

"This is madness," Nhilva muttered as she once more stood before the billboard covered with shreds of paper. "Either Dimitri had no idea of the price of fish on the surface, or I am totally going bonkers, spending this much on a cub. If only I still had sufficient magic in me..."

From her fight with the Ratman, and maybe a little with Jhalnin, she discovered her magic was slowly returning. But the spell she had in mind wasn't exactly a low-level spell. She didn't think Bishop would last long enough for her to have her spells fully restored. Especially not after the latest stint.

Rubbing her face a little roughly, she started to go through the job notices on the board once more.

"Transport needed for 'cargo'; caravan escort needed; 'cargo' retrieving personnel wanted...none of them are fixing pots and pans? Wait, do I know how to fix pots and pans? Maybe Erirt knows..."

Almost at once, a figure appeared in her original host's memory. Tall, masculine, long hair tied into a braid tail, high cheekbones, and with eyes as dark as liquid obsidian. A sense of warmth and longing, followed by sharp pain in the heart, told Nhilva who this was and how much the figure meant to her. Erirt Chaszar, the half-orc slave her original host fell in love with, was the main reason was exiled. Drow usually did not do love. Their loves usually came with conditions. Her affair with a slave had surprised and shaken her house and, apparently, Lolth. It wasn't a pleasant period of her life. Several memories during this time were blacked out. She had no doubt none of them were happy ones. The original Nhilva had sacrificed so much, and at the end, she reached the surface with nothing but her body. No Erirt, no magic, no soul. It saddened her to even think about it.

She hoped they were together now, in the afterlife.

"Ma'am?" A soft, deep timber of voice jerked her mind back from the reverie. She blinked and turned to a tall human with platinum-blond hair standing before her.

"Huh?"

"You are looking for a job, ma'am?" The man grinned. "I might have something for you."