Virgin's Square [Social | Kara]

“So your job is just – stand out here, take the coins from anyone entering, and, uh, don’t let them through if they haven’t paid,” The tall lanky elf twitched, smoothed his hair back from his head, and eyed Kara with a somewhat suspicious look, before quickly switching his attention back to the entrance. “And if I call for you – like – doorman! Doorman! Then you come inside and do what I say. Got it?”

Kara nodded, slowly. She turned, resting her glaive against the wall behind her.

“Great!” The elf clapped his hands together. “Oh – oh. One other thing, just – one tiny thing – I like to have sort of a standard uniform. It really helps with, you know, the overall look of the place…”

The start of the evening saw Kara wearing what was functionally a loin cloth and a breastband, both in an appalling shade of gold, which did almost nothing to keep out the chill of the evening. There were cold winds coming in off the ocean, a welcome change after the heat of the day, and Kara felt goosebumps rising on her exposed flesh almost immediately.

She stood, bored, next to the door, counting silver pieces into her coin purse and occasionally returning change or thrusting out an arm to prevent a too eager customer from entering before they’d had time to hand over their coins. Loud music and louder laughter throbbed from inside the door, flashing lights and noise spilling out every time someone opened or closed it.

“Doorman! Doorman!” The elf’s high, shrill voice echoed from inside.

Kara scooped up her glaive and ran, shouldering past someone entering and darting into the club. She glanced around and found her employer – lounging on an enormous red velvet couch, surrounded by half a dozen of what were either male or female elves, several of whom shrieked with laughter at the sight of her.

“You see!” The elf waved his hand. “And those abs – she’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I think you could bounce a dragon off of them.”

One of the elves sitting nearby – one with a higher voice, and a sort of skirt that made Kara think she was female – although Dhaunmyr wore a skirt and he was male – began to giggle. “Oh, Thamior, have her join us! Please!”

Thamior raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at Kara. “What do you think, doorman? Wouldn’t you rather spend the rest of the night cuddled with us?”

Kara stared at him for a long moment, her gaze shifting from the elf to his companion, to the rest of them. Without a word, grasping her glaive tightly, she turned and marched back outside.

---

Kara hadn’t slept more than an hour or two, but she was up early the next morning – very early. The hot day and cold night had combined to form a sort of thick, heavy fog that seemed to cover the city. It was a relief to wear her usual shirt, tunic and tights into it. The black tunic was heavily patched after a few weeks in and around the city, with stitching and squares of black fabric tucked in to cover the bear claw marks, axe blows, and various other injuries done to Kara through it. Her blue tunic, at least so far, was unmarked, and Kara intended to keep it that way.

Her stomach grumbled noisily as she entered Virgin’s Square, but Kara ignored it. She used her glaive as a walking stick, navigating through the crowds, focused like a laser on the notice board she’d found on a previous visit. She walked straight up to it, stomach grumbling noisily again, and squinted at the lowest notices, taking a half-step back – someone behind her made way, Kara didn’t pay attention to it – to crane her neck and try to look at the higher ones. Weren’t there dwarves in Waterdeep too? The whole city seemed to be built on a too-tall scale.

Maybe one of the odd jobs advertised here would be better than trying to be a bouncer. After the night before, Kara felt, it could hardly be worse.

Missing cat! Fluffers has been missing for two weeks. He was last seen near the gaping hole in my basement. Looking for brave adventurers to please help!




It took Kara a moment to realize that the voice coming from two and a half feet overhead was actually aimed at her, even with her name. She turned, scowling, craning her neck back even more than she had to view the notice board – and then the voice clicked and she recognized Solstice in the same moment.

The scowl faded to a much more neutral expression, and Kara paused, looking up at the giant-kin. “Solstice,” she said after a brief pause, much less effusive than the other woman. “… How is Toby?” Kara couldn’t have said why, but she was sure Solstice would know, and sure that Toby would be doing much better now than he had been when they had first met.

Kara nodded slightly in response to Solstice’s explanation. She was glad to hear that he had the house, and, frankly, a little surprised; her estimation of Solstice went up. It didn’t rise further at the news that Solstice was staying with Toby and helping take care of him; somehow she had already expected that.

Kara shook her head just as faintly at Solstice’s thanks. She didn’t need or want them. She had done nothing more than what was right. Perhaps there were those who needed to be thanked for such things, but Kara wasn’t one of them. She was only glad Solstice had been there; she thought if not for the giant-kin, she might well have caught Toby and dragged him back to Lord Lannholder, or maybe – crediting herself perhaps too much – just taken the papers and sent him on his way. He would never have told her the truth; Kara was sure of that.

Kara turned her attention back to the board. Solstice suggested that they work together, either to rescue the cat or deal with the rat infestation. Kara looked between them, cautiously, then reached up and snagged the notice about the missing cat. She gave it a firm, sharp tug, and turned back to Solstice, extending it to her.

Was it enough? Kara swallowed a little, feeling her stomach twist beneath her ribs, her head pounding a little with tiredness and hunger, and cleared her throat. “It’d be good to – work together.” She said, quietly, voice hoarse in her aching throat. Her stomach grumbled again, and Kara ignored it resolutely.

Kara glanced - it could be said that the look was longing - at the nearest of the stalls, from which a particularly tantalizing whiff of pastry and indeterminate ground meat drifted. She swallowed, hard, and reached one hand to touch the coin purse beneath her tunic. It was - light. Very light; what little she had earned the night before had already been spent on an almost-late payment at the inn where she was staying, and she needed to ration what coins remained or her next payment would be worse than late.

No matter how good the food smelled, or how much her stomach ached. It was better to eat tonight.

Kara could remember exactly the last time she’d eaten - lunch, the day before. She had been promised food as part of her work the night before. It wasn’t the elvish nature of the offered morsels that had bothered her; Kara had eaten things she couldn’t identify and would gladly do so again rather than be so hungry. She had eaten much, much worse than the little bites of bread and indeterminate greenery and what could have been fruit or jelly, with something white that she had guessed to be cheese. In truth, they had looked delicious - other than the glazed, drunk look that had crossed the face of everyone who had taken one, the way their pupils dilated and some mouths seemed to hang open slightly. Kara hadn’t asked, just refused the platter several times. There were things worse than being hungry.

Kara would have been horrified to learn how sad she looked when her gaze returned to Solstice. She swallowed, dismissing the fantasies of a freshly cooked - or not so freshly, it was hard to tell and honestly Kara doubted she could distinguish - meat pastry. “I’d rather not,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the ground.

Kara knew she should object to Solstice’s declaration that she was going to buy two pasties. She knew she should. But it was one thing to refuse to buy one, and entirely another to refuse to accept one, and by the time Kara had brought her will around to the herculean task of refusing Solstice was already in line and buying the pasties.

Kara swallowed, hard, and trailed after the giant-kin. She appreciated Solstice’s suggestion that she buy next time or pay her back after their finished their task; it took the sting out of it. She nodded, quietly, doing her best not to stare at the pasty as the woman handed it to Solstice. Her stomach growled again, and Kara pressed a hand to it, lowering her eyes, embarrassed at her own weakness but doing her best to accept it and let it be.

Solstice handed the pasty to her. Kara took it. “Thank you,” she said, quietly and firmly. Her own private agonies were no reason for rudeness. Slowly, very carefully, she took a first small bite. She chewed it very thoroughly, savoring every moment of having the food in her mouth, eating as though she might never get to experience the joy of food ever again, as though this could be her last chance to taste freshly cooked bread and spiced meat. It was delicious; it was everything the smell had promised.

The first bite took at least a little of the edge off of the hunger. Kara wanted to cram the entire pasty in her mouth and swallow it whole; she felt she could have eaten half a dozen, although she knew that was her hunger talking, and if she tried, she would puke. She had tried before, in those early days when she hadn’t known what was her stomach and what was her mind. She was better now.

Carefully, Kara lowered the pasty, saving the next bite as she finished swallowing the first. She looked at Solstice, who had suggested they eat and walk. Eat and walk! It was such a shame to have anything less than her full attention devoted to the food but Kara would manage it. She would just have to be careful; sometimes if she didn’t focus on the food it was gone before she’d even gotten to enjoy it, and that was always a shame.

The flier she’d pulled down had said the house could be found in the southernmost part of the Castle Ward, more or less where it met the Dock Ward, off Lackpurse Lane. It wasn’t so far from where Kara stayed, and she thought she knew how to find it – down Snail Street, over on Belnimbra’s Street to where it met Lackpurse. She would start off towards the western edge of the square, waiting for Solstice if necessary, but heading towards the location. Very, very carefully she would take a small second bite of the pasty, savoring it as much as the first, or at least as best as she could while walking.

Kara nodded a little, happy to appreciate the food while she ate. She finished her second bite, and accepted the waterskin from Solstice with murmured thanks, taking a small drink from it before handing it back.

“This way,” Kara said, quietly, leading Solstice through one of the small alleyways off Virgin’s Square, out to the much larger Snail Street. It was easy enough to spot in the fog, and she turned sharply left, crossing the street early. Soothsayer’s Way was easy to spot – a big intersection – and just past it there was a small, subtle left that became Belnimbra’s Street. They wouldn’t stay on there long before Kara hared right, up along a much smaller street, the entrance nearly invisible in the fog.

By now, Kara was on the last, lonely bite of her pasty. She had held onto it for several minutes, longingly, but there was no point in stretching the food out so long that she would need to rush it, and, carefully, Kara finished it off. It had been delicious. She was still hungry – she thought she might have been able, realistically, to eat at least one more, and maybe two – but the edge was gone, the headache throbbing at her temples was gone as well, and Kara felt considerably more – human.

“This is Lackpurse Lane,” Kara said, glancing over her shoulder at Solstice. The flier had said opposite The Quaffing Quaggoth – Kara assumed it was a tavern – which was presumably on the street. She slowed, now, squinting at each storefront and building as they passed them in the damp fog, making her way carefully down the street.

Finding the streets – familiar, even if the day was heavily fogged in – had been easy enough. Kara had a much harder time trying to find a tavern she had never heard of before. It meant proceeding slowly down the street, past the occasional passer-by who seemed to appear out of the mist, and carefully checking each building that they passed.

Kara shrugged in answer to Solstice’s question. She had never heard of a quaggoth either.

Kara was starting to shiver a little in the morning air – she had been fine while walking, but the castle ward was much more fogged in than Virgin’s Square had been, and the fog seemed to be cheerfully settling in, sucking out all the warmth – when, finally, the two woman would spot a wooden sign with hand-carved letters, naming a cheerful looking tavern The Quaffing Quaggoth.

Kara exhaled a little, looking up at it, then turning to look across the street. There were two large buildings, each not exactly across from the inn – and between them, squarely opposite the entrance, was a small, ramshackle building that looked like it was held together with twine and luck. Kara glanced up at Solstice, then down at the flier, then back at the building.

“… That seems right,” Kara sighed a little. It had been a long night, and while the food had perked her up considerably, she couldn’t help a slight feeling of – unease.