Sleepless Night

Koshka awoke suddenly, the quiet darkness of the room around her was a small comfort to her thumping heart. There was a chill in the air, and looking up from her bed to the open window, she watched the delicate curtains dance in the breeze. 

Slowly, she rose from her covers. Sweat was hot on her skin, and she threw the bedclothes aside to try and settle her thoughts. Though the quiet bustle of noise from the late night streets of Waterdeep outside was as reassuring as ever, Koshka couldn't seem to the shake the troubling feeling of having just awoken from a nightmare. Letting the chill night air cool her body, she knew there was no getting back to sleep again tonight. 

Slipping from the bed, Koshka donned her robe. A flighty thing of black chiffon and feathers with more use as a prop than an actual garment, and silently crossed to her door. Her hand hesitated on the handle before twisting. This had become something of a ritual of late, as Koshka, knowing full well that it was madness but still compelled to do so, would stop to quietly ensure herself that when opened, the door would reveal only the quiet landing of the tavern she knew, and not the shadowed, windowless halls of the other place she had seen. She exhaled, and opened the door.

The tavern living quarter was pleasant at night. Koshka almost floated through the wooden halls. Floorboards gave a slight creak as her bare feet trod familiar pathways. Her hair was undone, hanging a mess about her shoulders, her eyes red and puffy from another night of troubled sleep. Her bare body beneath the thin robe had none of the usual vibrant ruby luster, just the colour of old blood in the dark. She let her hand rest on the wooden rail as she descended towards the main tavern floor, running fingertips across well known curves and cracks in the pine. She'd spent the last few days feeling like something had been taken from her, and any attempt to think back to the source gave her a feeling of dread that left her feeling continually distracted and disturbed.

The tavern itself was dimly lit, a candle burning on the bartop, and the tinkle of sound from the street outside barely passing the heavy walls. There was a shift of movement in the gloom, and it gave Koshka a start as she stepped forward, before she recognized the small form of Lilmaia crouched atop one of the bar stools. 

Wearing a simple dirty white smock a few sizes too large, the Goblin was busily eating a platter of cheese, gnawing on the heavy red rind of a particularly large block of edam. Her wide eyes reflected light in the dark as her gaze darted to Koshka, and she bared her pointed teeth in a smile. 

"Koshka!" the goblin chirped through a mouthful, dropping to sit on the stool, her legs kicking. 

"You're up late Lilmaia..." Koshka said as she stepped into the darkness of the quiet tavern. Lilmaia gave an energetic shake of her head. 

"Tomorrow's the day Elf comes in to count food. So today's day I eat a bunch in the night so have extra get here sooner." 

"Of course... you have to keep a schedule in business after all," the Tiefling sighed, the baffling discrepancies between supply costs and sales suddenly making much more sense. 

Lilmaia nodded and responded with a muffled 'mmhmm' around a heel of crusty bread.

Koshka looked over at the far corner of the tavern floor, at the raised area and it's wide cushions where she performed her shows. Her instrument was resting against the wall, upright on its langot, the delicate silver pegs glinting in the meagre light. Koshka had first seen it among the wares of a Gnome trader in the market, and immediately thought it the most breathtaking instrument in the world. Before that she'd played dulcimer, fiddle, and mandolin, but all of a sudden none of those had come close. 

Koshka had stolen it that night, obviously. She'd spent agonizing months trying to learn to play it by ear, until finally a silver-tongued spice dealer from Aglarond had offered Koshka real lessons on the instrument in exchange for nine nights in her bed. Three years later, Koshka saw the Gnome merchant again. She'd slipped four gold into his pocket using her trademark bump and lift maneuver. Only after that had the instrument felt truly hers.  

Koshka realized it had been a long time since she'd held it in her arms. Never before had so much happened in such a short period of time. She'd slacked in her practices. For a moment she found she missed the simple quiet of her old home terribly. 

A sharp little claw poked Koshka in the side and she turned with a yelp to find Lilmaia sat, feet swinging, on the closest bar stool.

"Can't wear that dress outside, people'll get mad," Lilmaia chirped, chewing on a hunk of gouda. The Tiefling glanced down at herself absently and gestured down at the expensive translucent garment.

"Oh, well this is a nightdress, you don't wear it outside. It actually quite a fine piece of material, I got it from an Sea Elf designer who..."

"It's stupid, not even half a dress. You got ripped off Koshka," Lilmaia nodded matter-of-factly.

"You're probably right," she sighed, and snatched up a slice of bread as she sat down beside the Goblin, "You aren't supposed to eat cheese at night you know... gives you nightmares."

Lilmaia seemed to think on that for a moment, chewing on another mouthful, before giving a great shrug and waving the hunk of cheese in front of her. 

"Would rather eat cheese and get nightmares than not get to eat cheese at all," she said firmly.

Koshka exhaled, blowing whisps of hair out of her face. 

"Good way to live I suppose," she said. 

Lilmaia's gaze suddenly darted up, her wide eyes meeting Koshka's. 

"Why you scared of nightmares though?" she asked quickly. Koshka was briefly taken aback.

"I'm not scared of them... I just, I don't know. If there's one place I should feel safe it's in my own bed," she sighed. Lilmaia gave a great sigh and rolled her eyes.

"Nightmares can't hurt you! They just in here!" she reached out to prod Koshka in the forehead with a nail, "Can't hurt you in there. Just in head. Nothing can hurt you there."

Lilmaia went back to her food, before her eyes widened and she turned again to the Tiefling. 

"Oh! Unless someone GETS you while you're sleeping! That different," Lilmaia quickly mimed a brutal stabbing motion with the hunk of bread in her hand, "Then you're dead! Or if house falls on you while you're sleeping. You're dead then too. Lots of ways to die sleeping."

"Thanks Lilmaia," Koshka said wryly, "That helped a lot."

Lilmaia simply nodded.

Koshka watched the slow rise of dawn through the thick bottleglass green windows of the tavern, heard the insistent hum of the city coming back to life around it. She realized Patrick would be down for the morning chores soon, so darted back to her room for a proper change of clothes to spare giving the boy a startle.

Giving her hair the briefest of brushes, a quick polish to her horns, Koshka returned to the tavern and seated herself in the high corner. Reclining among the pillows, Koshka set white faerie lights to glowing with a thought. After a moment taking in the old smells of wood and beer and sweat, she took up her sitar.