Back at the Sloop, Adahni sat her aching bones in a chair and ordered herself, and her companions, a few tankards of the house stout. They each ordered something to eat, the red wizard and hagspawn ordering safe items like fish that didn't look too mutated, and a game hen that they observed the cook slaughter himself so they knew it was fresh. Adahni, however, was feeling odd cravings, and she managed to put away a plate of calf's liver with a soft cheese on a quarter loaf of dark bread. I don't even like liver, she thought, but gobbled it down like it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. Gods, why am I so hungry?
Safiya had been oddly silent the entire way back to the inn, and now sat silently at the table, staring into her mug. The hagspawn, by contrast, could not be stopped from talking. Adahni tuned him out a half hour in or so. The troupe of actors had left the stage and were no longer rehearsing, and the place seemed to be missing something without them. Sure, there were patrons aplenty making all the noise that patrons could be expected to make, but something in the background was lacking. Adahni, looked at Safiya thoughtfully, wondering if there was more to the story of her and Khai Khmun than she had imagined at first. She had never killed a former lover, though she had come close, and could only imagine how dirty inside it must make one feel. Safiya sighed slightly, and took a drink.
"Oh, come now, love, no reason to look so glum. You are one of the two lucky ladies at my table tonight. You'll be the envy of the realm!" Gannayev exclaimed. Safiya looked at him as though he had just stabbed her through the heart, slammed her empty tankard down on the table, and ran back to the room she was sharing with Adahni.
"Do you think you're dreadfully clever or something?" Adahni snapped at the hagspawn.
He looked at her, taken aback, his eyes wide and blue, "You're quite the uncouth one, Miss Adahni Farrrishta!" he rolled the "r" in her name excessively, which irritated her even more, "Do you not find my words pleasing?"
"Not in the least," she said, "And you're not nearly as good looking as you think you are."
"I will have you know that farmers daughters the land over are at this moment swooning over me!" he protested.
"Let me rephrase that," Adahni said, "You're not nearly as good looking as you'd need to be for having such an unpleasant personality. Perhaps virginal farm girls who've never seen a man except their dad and brothers might fall under your spell, hagspawn, but you'll find none of those here. So do us all a service and keep your damn mouth shut before I pin it closed with a rusty paring knife!"
"Touchy touchy!" he said, "My, but you are a spitfire! Whatever lad you keep at home is a lucky man indeed!"
"What makes you think that I have a lad at home?" she countered, taking another swig.
"That ring on your finger," he said, "Someone gave that to you. When you take it off, I can see that beneath it, your skin is paler. You rarely take it off during the day."
She looked down at the ring on her finger, a silver snake with garnet eyes. Indeed, it was a gift, given to her by Bishop. It was not a token of love though, but a memento, a keepsake from Kyla who had always worn it.
"Or has the gift giver passed to the next life?" he exclaimed, "Oh, how tragic!"
"No," she said, "He lives, and awaits my return, which is why I am eager to be done with this city and return to my ship."
"A ship!" Gann exclaimed, "Now that's quite romantic, I must say. What is it you do for a living? Your dreams have told me many things…"
"I'll thank you to stay away from my dreams," she snorted, "But if you must ask, I'm a sailor. I sail aboard the schooner Dance of the Damned out of Luskan."
"Now that is quite a journey!" Gann exclaimed, "I've never met a Luskan before. Tell me, are all the women in Luskan as lovely as you are?"
"I'm not from there," she said, "I'm Neverese."
"How very interesting!" he exclaimed, "And how is it you came to be here?"
"Buy me a beer and I'll tell you," she said. She got squarely into 'bard mode,' and told him the entire thing, starting with running away from home at fifteen, her time on the Luskan docks, working as a bard in the Sunken Flagon. She was apparently doing her job well, for the hagspawn listened intently to the whole thing, wide-eyed, laughed and clapped out loud at the happy parts, and looked positively crestfallen at the sad parts – the deaths of her companion Shandra Jerro and her lover Jem Quarely. As she continued to tell it, more and more patrons began to listen to her, reacting similarly to Gann. With their attention came more beer, and she found her tankard always full as she continued in. Loving the audience, she put more of herself into it, describing the shining towers of Crossroad Keep, the terror of fighting bandits and orcs, the horrible feeling that dropped the bottom out of her stomach when Bishop sabotaged her castle. It was the wee hours of the morning before she got to the end, her descent into the depths of the Mere of Dead Men and her terrifying battle with the King of Shadows. The crowd gasped and put their hands over their mouths as she described him, and the battle, and then Bishop's final appearance, only to abandon the King of Shadows as he had abandoned her. Two women were crying as she described the ceiling coming down on them, the rocks falling like rain, brave Khelgar's death beneath the stones, and Casavir's death in her arms.
"How… how did you survive?" Gannayev asked. His eyes were wide, and he was clearly quite taken with her story.
"Bishop rescued me," she said, "On the second day, he dug down, found me, and dragged me out. My leg was very badly broken, and so we camped out atop a hill until it would hold me. He saved my life, you see, and the only repayment he asked was my forgiveness."
"That's terribly romantic," sighed one of the crying women.
"And then, we found our way to the sea. Back when I was a whore in Luskan, I had made friends with a pirate named Mackrem Cullygan. And we've been sailing the seas ever since."
"How did you come here?" asked Gann.
"I don't really know," Adahni said, "Our ship was in a storm. I received a wicked bump to the head and landed in the sea. I managed to swim to land, passed out, and woke up here."
"I've had that happen before," an old grizzled salt said, "But we're miles and miles from the sea. Must have been one hell of a dram of whiskey you drank!"
Adahni laughed, playing along, not wanting to let on that she really didn't know what was going on, and she was really very concerned about it.
"You are quite a bard, Miss Adahni Farrrishta," Gann said, leaning his head on his head, "Sing us a song before we retire! I am quite taken with your talents."
A few minutes before, Adahni was not drunk enough to oblige, but now, she felt the love of the crowd that she had so loved when she lived in Neverwinter. Here in this land of strangers, feeling approval from her fellows filled a void that had been in her since she landed.
"Someone give me a lute," she said, "Or a mandolin.
"I've got a mandolin," offered the barman. He walked up and handed her an instrument. It was old, and it took her awhile to tune it, but it worked eventually. She sang a song she'd learned in Luskan, when she was new there, that had spoken to her heart. Here, even further away than everything familiar, she recalled it.
When I first came to this country, the years they number nine
I saw many fair lovers, but never saw mine
I looked all around me, saw I was quite alone
And me a poor stranger and a long way from home,
She hadn't had a barroom rapt in years, but to them this was new music, foreign music.
Fare thee well oh my mother, fare thee well to father too
I am going for to ramble this wide world all through
And when I get weary I'll sit down and moan
And think of my own love, my true love, my own
Oh I wish I were a turtledove, had wings and could fly
I would fly o'er the salt sea, tonight I draw nigh
And there in his arms, I would lay there all night
And watch on the horizon for the first morning light
She stopped singing, her voice clogged n her throat. Without a word, she put the mandolin gently on the floor, got up, and went to her room, where she got into the bed across the room from Safiya and buried her head in the pillow, feeling quite alone indeed.
Anchored off of the Lapendrar river somewhere in Thay, the navigator lay, sleeping in a hammock he'd slung from the bowsprit. He couldn't handle the inside, the bunk he used to share with her. She'd been gone nearly two weeks, and they'd made scant progress up the river to find her. He lay there, staring at the stars, so different from the ones he was used to seeing at home in Neverwinter. What if she's gone? He thought. She'd never been gone before. The longest she'd been 'gone' was the year she'd been back in Westharbor. Would it be another year before he saw her again? What if she wasn't even in Rashemen? What if she were wandering the woods, disoriented, no more than a mile away?
Or what if she'd perished in that storm and he was a fool to keep his hopes up.
He lit a smoke, unable to sleep. He heard the sounds of the river lapping against the hull of the ship, the slow wind off the desert. He heard a flapping of wings and he sat up, looking to see what river bird was making it.
There was no river bird, only a gray dove, fluttering up to him. It alighted on the bowsprit above him and sat there, looking at him. And then it did an odd thing, and fluttered down and landed on his breast. It didn't seem to be attacking him, and so he let it stay there, nuzzled under his chin. Feeling somehow at peace, he fell asleep to its soft cooing.