The Yawning Portal was silent for a moment.
Koshka's eyes darted, her breath caught in her throat, and for that moment it seemed she'd frozen.
Her clothes were a step and a half to her right, her instrument and the garter belt with her knife on it were two steps further, sitting on the bar. Koshka exhaled and realized there was going to have to be nothing else for it.
Barefoot and wearing nothing but her silken underthings, she shot from the chair and darted to her left, towards where she knew one of several exits from the Yawning Portal opened out onto the street.
Tormyr gave a roar of frustration and, gesturing quickly to his men to take other exits, launched himself after her. Durnan didn't move, but made no mention to Tormyr's men that one of them was sprinting towards a locked and bolted door.
Hearing the clatter and curse in the hall behind her as Tormyr found the mop bucket with his foot, Koshka slammed both palms into the heavy wooden door and fell out into the wet streets of pre-dawn Waterdeep. The sky was nothing but boiling black rainclouds, and rain spit down upon the cobbled streets as she leapt to her feet and darted towards the nearest alley.
She was only a few steps away when she heard the door crash open once more, and the sound of heavy footfalls slamming the street in pursuit.
Always faster than you expect, Dwarves.
"I'm not gonna hurt you!" Tormyr yelled, and Koshka dared a glance over her shoulder to see eyes blazing with anger and an axe gripped tightly in a hand pumping as the Dwarf ran that she found didn't make the promise entirely encouraging.
Her head snapped back in time to see a fishmonger blearily rolling a wheelbarrow out a door for morning sales, hand half raised towards a yawning mouth, who suddenly jerked to a stop at the sight of a swiftly approaching amount of naked red flesh.
Giving a yelp of shock and stumbling back over his own doorstep, the man watched as Koshka vaulted the wheelbarrow and hit the street lightly, bare feet patting the stone. He was still staring after her when the Dwarf smashed full force into the wheelbarrow, sending it and a day's worth of herring flying across the alleyway with an almighty crash as the Dwarf barely slowed his pursuit.
Koshka turned a hard corner into the street, leaping across an empty market stall, folded up for the night, and picking up speed as she crossed into the tiny cobbled side streets towards the western dock ward. From the far side of the street she heard another commotion, and one of Tormyr's black clad men burst from the other side of the street, shoving a street urchin to the floor in his stride. Glancing quickly about himself, he caught sight of the Tiefling, and surged forward with a speed that startled Koshka.
There was a brief yell of exchanged information from her pursuers, but Koshka didn't catch the gist of it as she darted down the side street and under the swinging night streetlamps. Had it been earlier in the morning, she might have found better luck with shadowy streets, a darkened corner to hide in, but candles were beginning to burn in the windows of the Waterdeep working class homes, chimneys beginnings to belch smoke, and the bustle of the long work day ahead was already rousing to life.
Counting the small and crowded buildings as she passed, she hit the one she was looking for, and took a sharp right into the tiny alley between two houses. The normally high wall behind them was cracked and broken down here, and Koshka knew a old discarded chicken coop that would take her weight nicely. As she had a half dozen times before when fleeing a city watchmen, a debt collector or an over-zealous paramour, Koshka leapt to plant both feet on the rotten old wooden coop, and launched herself up to snatch a handhold atop the high wall.
Tormyr came around the corner as she gained the top of the wall, and Koshka sent a darting glance back at him before she slipped from it. Tormyr roared in frustration once more, jabbing a finger indicating for his man to follow as he doubled back for another path.
Koshka hadn't looked what was on the other side, and as it turns out, the neighboring house had been slacking with the yard upkeep. She fell hard into the rosebush with a yelp of pain, and extracted herself with all the speed and decorum possible. Covered in tiny scratches and with her white hair filled with broken twigs and rose petals, Koshka sent a quiet whisper of thanks to the Gods she could name that somehow the thorns hadn't snagged on a garment and torn the underwear from her body entirely.
Stumbling across the small yard towards the street beyond, Koshka let out a shriek of pain as her bare foot came down hard on the edge of a broken brick, and followed up the shriek with an aggressive taking back of her prayer at the sky above.
With a creak, Tormyr's man gained the top of the broken wall, and with the far more efficient balanced landing of a clothed body and well shod foot, jumped the rose bush and crossed the garden in a neat roll to follow the limping Tiefling in another alley.
The wet streets were seeming less like her usual escape route and more like a wetly gleaming tomb as Koshka tried to gain speed again, the shadow of the leather clad man swiftly approaching and the crash of Tormyr coming around the far end of the alley. The scarlet trail left by her cut foot was bright in the yellow light from a nearby lantern, slowly washed away by the rain as she ran, and Koshka snarled another curse into the streets.
Born in them, she should have expected she'd bloody die in them.
Looking above her, Koshka saw row upon row of hanging fabrics, the dingy overhang of this pathetic corner of the Dock Ward's market. Koshka had stolen misshaped fruit and dodgy meat from this corner of Waterdeep since she was a child. As she made the move to the dead end street she knew was coming, she had a grin on her face. She'd had her first kiss under one of the little stalls here, one dreary winter afternoon, an awkward snog with the baker's son in exchange for a hot cross bun, until they'd been caught by the boys dad and he'd chased her down the street. Damn good bun that had been, worth it.
"Stop her!" Koshka heard Tormyr bellow, and Koshka heard the lurch of the spell before she even registered the strange words intoned by the leather clad man.
The spear of fire soared overheard, lancing through the wet night and spreading fire with it to the overhanging drapery. The flaming materials dropped to the street before her, a wall of fire that seemed for a moment to obscure everything else.
Koshka heard the thudding footsteps coming behind her, the impending crash of a body on her back, and without any further thought, she leapt through the raging fire into the alley beyond.
Tormyr swore and with a great swing of his arm, jabbed his armored elbow into the groin of his man.
"Bloody Tieflings!" he snarled, leaving his man to groan in pain on his knees, "Do something helpful, you fool."
Tormyr tightened his grip on his axe, and made to follow Koshka through the blaze.
Taking his hands from his bruised balls, the leather clad man took up the sending stone from his pocket, and placed it to his mouth.
-
Koshka had decided it was time for her to reexamine her relationship with the Gods.
Just as she leapt through the flames, her Tiefling skin feeling barely a summer's day scorch, she'd given her blissful thanks for her underwear once again somehow surviving catching alight, and had sped into the familiar alley, expecting to see the wide crack in the lower wall, that ancient old flaw that led a lithe street urchin to safety on the other side more than once, and found that after all these years, after all this time, someone had finally taken the effort to fix the crack.
Koshka was standing, arms hanging limp at her side, in the dark and dead-end alley as Tormyr stepped towards her. His face ruddy and red from the heat, his beard scorched and curling at the edges, his face lit with rage and fury.
"Ready to stand the fuck still now are you?" he snapped, taking a step forward to stand firm.
Koshka, wet from the rain, her silken underwear sticking to her red flesh, blood seeping from her foot, stood silently, watching the Dwarf. Trapped into the alley by the burning remnants of the market drapes, they stared at each other.
"I got to bring you to him, girl, you know I do," Tormyr said finally. The rage in his face had boiled out, and slowly his breath returned to normal.
"You don't have to, I could...slip away, right? I could've... almost did."
"Gave us the bloody run around, for sure. But I get everyone eventually," Tormyr smiled, taking one more step forward. His eyes looked up, left, then right. No escape.
"I suppose you bastards'll keep coming anyway, right?" Koshka asked, and Tormyr shrugged.
"If you weren't at the Portal, was gonna go to your place next. Yeah, I know where it is. If not there, your little boyfriend Errol, at his shop..." He let the threat hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "In the long run, it's better it ends here and now, isn't it? Life on the run isn't much fun, girl."
"Don't I know it," Koshka smiled giving him a knowing nod, "Spent my whole life running from one street to another."
Koshka took a step towards him, raising her hands together, as if to hold the Dwarf at bay.
"Who am I, Tor?" she whispered.
The dwarf stared Koshka down, his heavy brow furrowed, grip still held steady on his axe.
"I don't even know who you are, Koshka," he said finally. Koshka, arms still raised in defense, nodded.
"Exactly. I'm nobody. I'm a girl from the streets of Waterdeep. A half-breed, a tea-leaf, a guttersnipe. I sing in shitty bars for enough copper to eat, I fuck strangers in the trade ward for enough to pay debts. I'm nobody," Koshka said.
She lowered her arms to her sides, slowly. Her hair was hanging heavy about her bare shoulders, twigs and leaves stuck among it's pale curls.
"Lots of people are nobody, girl," Tormyr grunted.
"And none of them, not one of them, could touch a man like Darrow. He's too rich, he's too strong. He's got the gold, he's got the magic, he's got the men who'll come for you and make people like me disappear. He knows that anyone who stands up to him has got to be somebody," Koshka spoke softly. Her voice was quiet, but without hesitation, without wavering, "Someone like me couldn't touch him."
"Unless he knows better," the Dwarf added.
"And does he know better?" Koshka asked, one white eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
The dwarf stared back at her for a long time, before finally giving the briefest shake of his head.
"Because the only person, the only person who really knew, Darrow killed, right?" the Tiefling said, inclining her head. Tormyr looked down at his feet.
"He's got my cousin, girl," the Dwarf said, his voice low, "Standing right there, on his little desk. Trapped. Keeps him like a...like a trophy. All over a handful of gems he couldn't pay in time."
Tormyr let the handle of his axe drop, to swing restlessly from the tips of his fingers.
"Sometimes when I'm in there, in that room of his, I try to think how fast I'd have to be, to cut that scrawny throat of his, but no," Tormyr looked up, his brown eyes hard, "Guess I'm nobody too."
"Can't be nobody if you got friends though, yeah?" Koshka smiled, "Makes you somebody, at the least. You get your armour done in the Castle Ward right? Shop with the bad painting of the Wolf on the door?"
Tormyr frowned suspiciously, and the Tiefling gestured to his arm.
"Recognize the stitching, does it the same on everything. Old Wulf's shop. It's not actually authentic sword coast leather he uses, you know. He gets it in on the cheap off the boats from Calimshan."
Tormyr gave a curse, and muttered, "That bugger, I bloody knew it..."
Taking a step towards the Dwarf, Koshka extended a hand, her yellow eyes meeting his.
"I may be a nobody, but this is my city. And If I ever get the chance, I'll help your cousin, and all those little toys on his desk, I promise."
Tormyr looked at the Tiefling's hand, red flesh bright in the firelight, and set his jaw in a hard line. He was opening his mouth to respond when all at once, as if it had been smothered in an instant, the fire around them went out. Without so much as a hiss to mark their passing, the flames simply flashed from existence and plunged the street into darkness. The sound of sharp heeled shoes clicking on cobblestones echoed down the alley, and Koshka's hand snapped back to her side.
Striding swiftly towards them, his body hidden to the throat in a high collared royal blue coat bearing heavy silver buckles, was Darrow.
He darted a look between the two, acknowledging the Tiefling's nudity with a brief frown of clear distaste. In the dim light, his tattoo leant his face a positively ghoulish appearance, as if the leering bony horror was truly staring out of the shadows waiting to pounce.
"One of your men summoned me, Tormyr, I trust he didn't waste my time,"
Tormyr looked to Koshka, her yellow eyes wide and staring silently into his, then back to Darrow.
"I'm sorry sir, we got into a scuffle in the street here. One of the boys let loose a scroll bit eager like. Lost our man in the confusion."
Darrow stared in silence, his face as if carved from some horrid stone. When Tormyr realized he wasn't going to say anything, the Dwarf continued.
"Koshka here was helping us, she knows the streets well."
Darrow slowly shifted his gaze to the Tiefling.
Koshka looked back at Darrow, his empty eyes staring back at her from dark circles, and gave a sigh.
"I'm sorry they dragged you all the way out here, Mr. Darrow, Sir. But I've no more information to give than I'm sure you've already heard. Tormyr knew I might know more about the Tiefling who supposedly intercepted the delivery, but it's not a girl I know. If we knew the colour of her flesh, maybe that would help narrow it down a little, there's not too many of us in Waterdeep. Still, no one I know would be so stupid as to rip you off, Sir."
Darrow stared Koshka down, his expression unchanging.
Tormy piped up, "Could be part of the thieves guild, they're all over the place."
"Skullport has seen ships from the Southern kingdoms, rumours of some shakeup from Icewind Dale." Koshka nodded.
Tormyr raised a finger as if he'd just thought of something.
"I heard the Xanathar has been stockpiling magic for war with the Zhentarim, imports could have been targeted."
"Xanathar, Zhentarim, even Thay has Wizards in the streets. I saw one at the Yawning Portal asking questions. Waterdeep is a nest of snakes, Sir. I know it better than anyone."
Darrow's mouth opened, as if to speak, and snapped shut again. One of his hands rose and, almost inadvertently, clutched at his throat, as if feeling something that might hang there under his clothing.
"What kind of questions, child?" Darrow snapped, his voice curt. Koshka made an exasperated flourish.
"I didn't hear much, the usual I suppose, where is this, who's in charge, how do I find that. He gave old Durnan, that's the bartender over there, quite the working over. And they're never interested in anything I've got to sell, let me tell you."
Darrow's gaze was on the floor before him, his nose flared. Koshka decided to push.
"If you need eyes and ears on the street, I'm your girl. I'm everywhere. I play in all the bars, sleep in all the beds, sit at all the windows. If anyone breathes a word about something you want to know about, you won't find better in Waterdeep than me. No one pays attention," she smiled, her fangs showing at the corners of her lips, "I'm nobody."
Darrow gave a single, sharp nod, and with a tilt of his head to Tormyr, turned fully about.
"Don't waste my time again, Tormyr, tell your man I expect payment for the scroll," he said. Torymr gave Koshka a look somewhere between disbelief and respect, before Darrow turned with a jerk of his hand, pointing a finger at the Tiefling.
"And I trust you haven't forgotten, Koshka. 60 gold, you have two days remaining."
Koshka spread her hands apart,
"No sir, I'm good for it." she said. Darrow hesitated, briefly.
"...make it 55. Get yourself some clothes," he said, turning. With the cracking of his heels on the cobblestones, he was gone.
Tormyr was left standing looking after him in the street, and turned to Koshka. The Tiefling was standing tall, her ragged hair a mess, one hand upon a cocked hip.
"You got the talk, girl. Give you that," Tormyr grunted. Koshka shrugged.
"Everyone's got something, eh?" she said with a smirk, "Got great tits too."
Tormyr gave a bark of a laugh,
"Aye well, if you like 'em on the skinny side," He stepped forward, and offered a hand to Koshka. The Tiefling took it.
"Thanks, Tor. I'll make it up to you," she said softly. The Dwarf nodded.
"You make digging a debt a noble profession, girl. But I'll remember that."
Together, they began to slow walk from the alleyway, Koshka limping ever so slightly, Tormyr's axe resting on his shoulder.
"Get you back to the Portal eh? Warm up?" he sniffed, rubbing his nose. Koshka nodded, rubbing her wet shoulders.
"First though, you know anyone I can steal 55 gold from before tomorrow night?" she asked.
Tormyr immediately gave a huff that sent his moustache to quivering, "Oh, loads!"
"Good, In that case Tor, I need a favour..."
-
Epilogue - A Change in the Weather
Darrow looked up from his work to find a small, smiling face, stood just barely tall enough to peer over from other side of his desk. Even among Gnomes, Treave was particularly tiny.
"Good day to you Mr. Darrow," the Gnome nodded, giving a little bow. In his hands he gripped a rolled package.
"And to you, Treave," Darrow said, placing his writing implement aside and folding his hands together on the desk, "Tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure? If I do find myself in need of a painting of some spread eagled Elf girl you can rest assured I'll reach out. No need to go door to door."
Treave gave another jolly bow and inclined his head even lower, chuckling at the comment, even though Darrow's emotionless face made it impossible to judge whether the man was actually joking or not.
"Glad to see that my well deserved reputation precedes me, my work hangs on the walls of Waterdeep's finest, as I'm sure you know. If an Elf maiden is not to your taste, I have had so many wonderful models sit for me, Dwarves, Aasimar, a particularly beautiful Goliath who had the most amazing..."
"Your pornography collection aside, why are you taking up my time, Treave?"
Treave gave a chirp and approached the desk, bearing higher the rolled package. Without waiting to be invited, Treave placed the package upon the desk. Darrow looked down at it, his dark eyes unchanging, and gave an almost imperceptible raise of one hairless eyebrow.
Treave unrolled the package, and the revealed bracers gleamed silver. Darrow's eyes narrowed, and he reached partially towards them, curling his hand almost to a claw. Treave remained silent, the glint in the Gnome's eye remained as warm and humorous as ever, but there was something else there too. Shrewdness, knowingness.
Darrow folded his hands once more, restraining the urge to reach out and take the bracers, and instead stared up at Treave.
"Just fell into my lap, and I thought 'what luck'," Treave said.
"What do you want for them, Treave?" Darrow whispered.
The gnome clapped his tiny hands together, and Darrow watched as the Gnome's eyes darted around the room briefly. Quick glances at the wands strapped to the side of Darrow's chair arm, to the seemingly normal cloak that hung from the wall behind the desk, to the little figures that stood silent nearby.
Trave allowed his hands to fall to his side, and awarded Darrow with a beaming smile.
"No charge."
This time Darrow's brow really rose, he remained silent, and Treave continued.
"Shall we say that, should I ever need a favor, I can count on a man of your... unique talents to assist as required?"
Darrow stared up at him for a moment longer, before he reached to roll the package up once more, and take it in his arms, cradling it.
"Done," Darrow said. Treave gave a flamboyant bow, and spread his hands wide.
"So wonderful to do business with you again, Mr. Darrow," he said as he turned to leave. As he strode, he stopped to look at the far wall.
"This wall is very quiet, Mr. Darrow. Needs something to spice it up. I have a lovely painting of a Tiefling, by the way. I'll send it along, on the house."
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