Chapter 4

It was hours before Garuk got back to the wagon. When he did, he was carrying a black cloak with silver accents and a small sack over his shoulder. We’re all set, he told Zaphyra, who immediately held up a finger to shush him. Morwen had fallen asleep and was resting her head against Zaphyra’s chest.

“They knew about these rogues,” Garuk whispered as he sat down next to his sister. “Asked where the wagon was,” he dropped the sack and set the cloak beside himself. “They didn’t believe my story and told me that I could keep it if I’d forfeit the fifty gold reward.”

Zaphyra smiled. “Fine...” she said with a sly grin. We’ve got their gold and supplies, we can sell most of this and the horse and wagon for more than fifty in the Trade Ward,” then she pointed to the sack and cloak.

“Stuff for Morwen,” he said. Zaphyra gave him a sideways look and he continued. “Told the Guard about, said we found her naked and injured in High Forest,” he leaned closer to Zaphyra and whispered. “Told them she’d lost her memory, didn’t even know how to cast cantrips no more.”

A soft giggling came from Morwen, and Zaphyra straightened, forcing her to sit up. “You’re awake?”

Morwen sat up, stretched, and said “Elf Ears,” she yawned, “Heard him when he was walking up the path, heavy boots.” Garuk blanched and tried to apologize for the noise, Zaphyra just laughed and Morwen lay across Zaphyra’s lap.

She snuggled close and rubbed her head against Zaphyra’s abs. “Comfy,” she cooed lazily.

Zaphyra giggled and pushed her away. “Hey now!” if you’re gonna sleep go to your tent,” she sighed in mock exasperation, “Gruumsh! Damned need elves! I swear.”

Morwen sat back up and looked a Garuk, “Those for me?” she asked.

“Yeah, the guard said some random Drow died in lockup, and they hadn’t got a chance to sell these off,” he scowled, then went on. “They fleeced me for two more Gold if I wanted them. Morwen smiled, and kissed him on the cheek, then thanked him. “Worth it, though,” he claimed, with a smile.

Morwen rummaged through the sack, pulling things out one at a time. The first was a leather-bound book. Zaphyra stopped her from opening it. Said it was probably a spell book, and it should be checked by a professional before trying to open it. Someone else’s book may have traps or wards.

Next was a small rectangular case carved from a blue stone and trimmed in silver. Morwen could see small vials inside. Zaphyra confirmed it was likely more potions. Morwen handed it to her to put with the other potions.

Next was a large silver broach. It was heavy and carved into the broach was a star. Eight points, the top and bottom longer than the three on each side. A flawless, blood-red ruby was set in the center, and what looked like wisps of smoke connected all the points. Zaphyra corrected her.

“Those would be webs,” she said. Her voice seemed to carry some concern. “That’s the symbol of Lolth,” the sound came out of Zaphyra with a heavy thunk, almost as if she had to force it out of herself. “She’s the Spider Goddess that the Drow worships,” Zaphyra cast her eyes down.

“Lolth is cruel,” Zaphyra said, “Even to her devoted followers,” A sigh escaped her lips before she went on. “If she needs new slaves, or just wants to punish someone, she’ll turn them to Driders. Hideous, half spider half Drow, and the ceremony to do it is horrific and painful.”

Morwen stared at the warrior for a moment, then threw the broach back into the sack. “I don’t want that!” Zaphyra shot her a look of hope. “Yeah! I’m guessing the Drow leave their homes to get away from this Lolth?” she paused and looked at her two companions. “Well then, Me too!”

Zaphyra nodded then smiled, and nodded toward the sack. “Still other stuff in here,” she said. Morwen dug around, leaving the broach in the bottom. She pulled out a cloth sack that rattled. When she looked inside, there were some small bones, a few rocks, some feathers, and other miscellany.

“Spell components,” said Zaphyra. “Wizards and Sorcerers need those to cast spells,” then she smiled at Morwen. “You’re a priestess, you don’t need components. Morwen thought for a moment, then asked in a serious tone.

“If I’m a Priestess, does that mean I have to pray to that awful Spider God to keep my powers?” Zaphyra shrugged, Garuk had a puzzled look on his hairy face, and Morwen just sighed.

“I’m gonna keep these,” she proclaimed. “Just in case I lose my powers and have to learn how to do it the Wizard way. She raised a hand into the air and pointed upward, she twirled her finger and shouted, “Wingardium Levio-SA!” Nothing happened.

Zaphyra and Garuk just stared at her dumbly for a moment. She looked back and forth between them, then said. “Well, I thought it might work since magic works here,” That didn’t satisfy the brother and sister, who shook their heads and shrugged.

“In my old world,” she began. “There is a popular story about a young boy who became a Wizard. He went to a Wizarding school and everything,” she smiled, “That was supposed to be a levitation spell,” Garuk and Zaphyra smiled and nodded at that.

“I’m guessing it was a fairy story,” Zaphyra said, reaching a muscled arm around and drawing Morwen to her. “Casting spells for Wizards is much more involved, and takes a lot of practice.” Morwen knew that Zaphyra was treating her like a child, but just harrumphed and pulled away.

Instead of going back to the sack, she grabbed the cloak and unfolded it. She dropped it immediately as it gave her a shock when she touched it. Zaphyra picked it up and looked it over. “Magic, for sure,” she said, most likely stating the obvious to all that were there. “Stand up, try again.”

Morwen stood and quickly unfurled the cloak and flung it around her shoulders. It was huge, way too long, and too big for her. However, as it settled on her shoulders, it began to shrink, then tighten, until it was the perfect length and fit. Morwen could feel a hood lying across her back and flipped it up.

The hood magically fitted itself to her head, and she noticed that there were cutouts that allowed her long ears to stick out the sides. There was even a warmth inside the cloak she hadn’t noticed until she’d donned the hood. Garuk suddenly jumped up and pointed.

“I know!” he exclaimed. Looking straight at Morwen. “I’ve seen Drow walking around in similar cloaks!” This seemed to be obvious to Zaphyra as well and she questioned him as to why that was significant at all. So, it was Drow attire, they knew that.

“No, no, you don’t get it!” he yelled pointing again to Morwen. “They were wearing them and walking around in the daylight!” This revelation startled both women. Morwen because she dearly wanted a way to not be covered up all the time, and Zaphyra because she now realized what Garuk had.

“Don’t you think it odd?” she asked Morwen, “That if it is meant as protection from the sun, the ears stick out and are exposed?” Morwen thought for a moment, then nodded. “Well if I’m right, that’s an enchanted cloak that protects you from sunlight.” Her grin grew wide as she waited for Morwen to understand.

Morwen leaped up suddenly, throwing off the cloak, and headed toward the tent. “I can’t wait for morning!” she exclaimed. “I can be comfortable from now on,” Her smile was infectious. But Garuk looked a bit pensive.

“Umm, do you mind,” he began, “If I melt down the broach?” before Morwen could answer he went on, “It’ll be worth more if it’s just a bar of silver and a blood ruby. Extra scratch in your pouch, yeah?”

Morwen smiled and nodded. “Sounds good,” she chirped, then ducked into her tent and closed the flap. Zaphyra handed Garuk the broach and finished rummaging through the pouch. All she found were more spell components. This Drow must have been a Mage.

Garuk set to work removing the gem from the broach and then setting the pin in a small square pan he took from his pack. He set it directly into the fire and sat back to wait. After a while, a crackling sound caught his attention and he grabbed a cloth and pulled the pan out of the fire. Silvery liquid greeted his gaze. He shook the pan a bit to burst some bubbles.

He lay the pan and the ruby next to a rock drew a blanket over himself and went to sleep. Zaphyra sneaked quietly, or so she thought, into Morwen’s tent to cuddle with her new, favorite cuddle buddy. Morwen smiled to herself as the big woman wrapped her body around Morwen. She was warm and comfortable.

Dawn broke and Morwen was up and washing herself before Zaphyra even stirred. When she did, she wondered how Morwen had gotten out of her grip without waking her. She dressed in some of the clothes they found in the wagon. Peasant Blouse and skirt, leather boots, and a waist cincher.

Morwen then donned her new cloak, pulled up her hood, and raced out of the tent. If the cloak didn’t work, she would only have to endure a little pain, while going back inside. But she needn’t have worried. The moment the sun hit her body, a dark aura descended inside the hood, making the world around her look as though it were nighttime.

The whole cloak felt cool, inside and out. Even her ears experienced a cooling sensation. This was awesome. She called Zaphyra to come out and join her. Zaphyra appeared at the tent flap and froze. “Well, now. That will take some getting used to,” she said. Morwen was taken aback by Zaphyra’s response and questioned her about it. “Well dear,” she answered. “I can’t see your face at all, but your eyes are glowing red like two tiny fires in your hood.”

Morwen covered her face with her hands and sobbed, “What do I do?” she was on the verge of tears. This cloak was to be her salvation, but she couldn’t go around scaring people to death with her eyes.

Garuk was the savior of the day. He stood from his spot next to a fire that was now no more than embers, stretched, yawned, and said. “Umm, think about less darkness, do it until the sun just starts to bother you,” Morwen tried. Just as her eyes began to hurt from the sunlight she stopped and looked around.

“Much better,” said Zaphyra. “Are you comfortable like that?” she asked and was rewarded with an affirmative nod from Morwen.

“I think I can work with this,” Morwen admitted. Then, while looking at Zaphyra, thought about the hood being a touch darker. Zaphyra nodded and told Morwen that was fine too. Her eyes hadn’t begun to glow. Morwen noted that at this level of darkness, the coolness inside the hood returned.

With the matter of the Drow cloak resolved, the trio set to pack up camp. They lowered and stowed the canopy for the wagon, leaving it open. Zaphyra hitched the horse to the wagon and all three climbed on. Morwen now sitting between Garuk and Zaphyra, enjoying the view as they rode.

Upon approach to the North Ward gate, a sleepy-looking guard held up a hand to stop them. He approached Garuk’s side and addressed him. “Destination, and business in Waterdeep?” Asked the Armored man.

“Trade, and family business in North Ward,” Garuk announced without pause.

“Right,” said the Guard, “Two Gold each for you and the ladies,” Then he did a double-take. “She a Drow?” he asked. Now looking suspiciously at Garuk.

Garuk handed the Guard a wooden chit and announced. “Already bought passage and checked in last night.” he jerked a thumb toward Morwen and went on. “Missy here thinks she remembers family living in North Ward or Field Ward,” He paused as the Guard took the chit and read it.

The Guard handed it back to Garuk, “Right!” the Guard said, becoming more business-like. “Next time present this before we go through a bunch of rigmarole.” then snapped to attention and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Off with you now!” and the gate creaked open to admit their cart.

They rode through the streets of North Ward, in search of places to sell off the wares they were carrying about. While keeping enough clothing and supplies to keep their packs stuffed. That netted them about ten gold and five silver, all in total. For the Wagon, they got fifty Gold. The horse brought one hundred Gold.

Now flush with Money and supplies, they headed into a magic shop. The old man behind the counter reminded Zaphyra of Salarann, but cleaner and better dressed. As they approached, he lifted his head with a smile, then frowned when he caught sight of Morwen.

“I’ll banish you if you try anything, Drow!” he said loudly. Zaphyra stepped between them and in a calm voice told him the story they’d concocted to explain to her while laying two Gold on the counter.

The elderly Mage grabbed the coins, threw them into the air, muttered a few words, and the coins vanished in a puff of smoke. He cleared his throat and asked. “Well, then what can I do for you?”

“We need some kind of magic bag,” Zaphyra remarked. “Something we can put all of this...” she gestured to all of their packs, “and maybe more if our trip is a success,” she offered him a genuine smile and stepped aside.

He glared for a moment at Morwen, then shook his head. “She’s lost her mind,” he stated. “That robe has four small pocket dimensions sewn inside,” then he chuckled. “They’ve even got things in them.” Garuk and Zaphyra looked at Morwen. “Yup, she’s addled if she forgot about her storage. Probably things in there she’s been looking for.”

They didn’t mention that she’d just gotten this from a Guard who took it from a dead Drow, but then asked, “What about for us?” The Wizard laughed and then coughed. He held up a finger and turned away. He came back with two small pouches. He opened open, then snapped it in midair like a whip and the opening expanded.

H picked up a glass jar filled with some kind of hard candy and dropped it into the opening. He drew the strings together, and the pouch became small again. He snapped it open again and reached in pulling out the jar and placing it back on the counter.

“Once I sell it to you, it will imprint on you and you will be the only one who can open it. He reached in again and made swirling motions with his hand. “There’s a small pocket dimension, ten foot by ten foot in there. Fill it up as you see fit, All you need is to think about what you want to take out and it will come to the opening.”

Before Zaphyra could ask how much, the Old Wizard said. “Fifty gold each. Quality is guaranteed by the Guild of Magic in Waterdeep. Stamp of a surety upon completion of the transaction.” Zaphyra looked at Garuk, then turned to the Old man.

Done!” she called out and took one of the heftier pouches of coins from her pack counted out one hundred Gold and slid them across the counter. The old man motioned them to step up. First, he handed one pouch to Zaphyra. While she held it he pulled out a large rubber stamp.

He pressed it against the side of the pouch and there was a slight burning smell when he pulled it away, it left a logo burned into the leather. A hand, palm facing the viewer, with an all-seeing eye in the center, surrounded by words, “Certified by the Watchful Order of Magists – Waterdeep.”

The Wizard did the same for Garuk and thanked them for their business. Zaphyra frowned but then looked at him. “Can you show her how to open her pockets?” The old man shook his head but then nodded. “Well yes and no.” he scratched his head and then looked at Morwen.

“Open one flap of your robe,” he called to Morwen. His tone was slightly off-putting. Zaphyra thought she couldn’t blame him. He’d probably know of Drow’s cruelty better than most. Morwen obliged and exposed the inner lining of the left side of her cloak.

“Alright,” he said, “Now the other side,” Morwen closed one flap and opened the next. “A Moon, A Star, A Comet, and A Sun,” he observed. “Put your hand over one of the symbols,” then quickly added, “Only one symbol at a time! Then pull as if you’re pulling on a drawer.” Morwen did as she was told.

Morwen touched the Comet symbol. The pocket opened, just like a drawer, and she saw nothing but black inside. She looked up at the old man, wondering what to do next.

“Well, if you don’t remember what’s in there just reach in, and one of whatever is in there will come to your hand.” He nodded and made a shooing motion toward her. Morwen reached in and something came into her palm. It was cylindrical and was smooth and cold to the touch.

When Morwen drew it out the old man panicked and yelled for her to put it back right away. What came out was a staff, the shaft smooth and as black as Morwen’s skin with two wide silver bands near the bottom and the top. The end cap looked like an inverted heart, with a blade shooting upward.

The center cap that held the blade, and the heart itself was studded with blue sapphires. Two silver rings hung from the wide arcs at the bottom of the heart shape. “Never take that out in a Magic shop!” the old man shouted. “You almost cost me thousands of Gold.”

Morwen bowed and apologized, saying she had no idea it was in there. The Wizard nodded, “I know, I know.” he said in an exasperated tone. “Well now that you know how to open your pockets, go explore them someplace safe.” He wiped his brow with a stained cloth and shooed them out.

Next, the trio went searching for an Inn to stay in while searching for some friendly Drow to help Morwen out. Some asking about got them directions to a local Inn and Tavern that wasn’t too high class but also not wholly disreputable.

They now stood at the north end of North Ward, near the Field Ward gate. The sign above the door was tasteful and pictured a man driving a wagon, with a silhouette of two cities at either corner of the plaque. The script underneath the scene read “The Halfway Inn.” Morwen was giggling uncontrollably.

Zaphyra asked her what was so funny and Morwen raised both her hands. She made a circle with two fingers on one hand, and pointed her middle finger of the other hand at it slid it partially through the loop, and snorted, “Half Way Inn,” Zaphyra stared for a moment before realization hit her.

“Oh!,” She exclaimed. “Naughty Elf!” then pinched the lobe of Morwen’s left ear. Morwen yelped and punched her in the arm. They both laughed after that, and the trio walked in, with Garuk at the rear shaking his head.

The Innkeeper stood behind the bar using a haggard cloth to wipe out wooden tankards, which he spit in before wiping them out. He was Human, and not much taller than Morwen. His hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. It was as gray as the full beard that was full to a point just below his collarbone.

He wore only an apron over his muscled and scarred chest. His arms were thick with biceps the size of a small dog. He wore thick leather bracers, a wide leather lifting belt, and leather trousers. He looked at the trio from his one good eye, patch covering the other.

“Help you with something?” he asked in a husky voice that was otherwise emotionless.

“Room and board,” Zaphyra said in a voice that matched his. He glared at her for a moment.

The innkeeper snarled, “Wolf or...” he paused and let the question hang, then punctuated it with, “Bear?”

Zaphyra leaned over the bar and hissed back at him. “Gray Wolf Tribe,” she snarled. “What’s it to ya?” The Innkeeper smiled a broken smile. Most of his teeth missing, which accounted for his perpetual frown.

“How long ya be here?” he asked. “And what about shite elf ya go there?” he sniffed loudly. “She gonna be here too?”

Zaphyra pounded the bar and glared at him, “Do you smell anything?” then growled, She’s mine and I like her,” Zaphyra straightened, then asked, “Got a problem? I can always go to a nicer Inn.”

“I just don’t want any trouble, from, you know what.” He stated. “Keep ‘Er on a leash and we’re golden.” The innkeeper rummaged under the bar and brought out two large keys with tags attached. Room five and six, top of the stairs, turn right.” then he began reciting things that sounded scripted.

“Ten Silver a fortnight, two meals a day, breakfast at high sun, supper at six bells. If yer late, too bad.” He continued. No bath, use the public house next door, Privy out back. Extra meals four copper each, well drinks one silver, draft ale, two copper.” He slid a leather tome toward her. “Right thumb from each of ya.” When they’d complied he slid them the keys.

They went up to settle in their rooms. The women heard Garuk drop his pack and fall onto the bed. Zaphyra took the time to stuff her pack and belongings into her magical pouch. Then she stripped and turned to Morwen. “Feeling frisky?” she asked with a predatory grin.

Morwen surprised her by stripping nearly as fast, then threw herself at Zaphyra and said. “I wanna show you this.” Zaphyra looked up at the Obsidian beauty as she spread Zaphyra’s legs and knelt between them. Her eyes widened as she saw Morwen manifest her sacred flame.

The sexy Drow now sported a perfectly shaped penis that looked suspiciously like Garuk’s but made entirely out of sacred flame. Morwen stroked it and it buzzed in her hand, sending tingling sensations through her body. Zaphyra grinned and asked. “Ootha show you that?” Morwen nodded.

Zaphyra laid back and spread her thighs as wide as she could. Morwen leaned forward and place the tip of her fiery cock against Zaphyra’s outer fold and pushed. The illusory cock slid in effortlessly, and warm tingles ran through both women’s bodies at the same time. Zaphyra moaned in pleasure.

It only took a few moments for the women to reach their climax. The flame was magical and reached their most sensitive spots. When Morwen felt her climax rise, she felt it translate to the flame, and a gout of scared fire burst forth and bathed Zaphyra’s channel in a warmth that drove her over the edge.

Both women achieved orgasm for a few moments, then relaxed and held each other. Sleep came quickly and the next thing they knew, they heard the City bells ringing. They jumped out of bed and threw on robes and a cloak. Zaphyra grabbed her pouch and they ran downstairs and met Garuk in the common room.

The Innkeeper smiled as they took an empty table near the hearth. The bells struck six as they pulled up their chairs. Moments later a cute gnomish girl in a serving uniform came out with plates balanced on her head and both arms, followed by the Innkeeper carrying a pitcher and three tankards.

The Gnome laid out three large bowls a plank with bread and cheese, and tableware. The Innkeeper set the pitcher and tankards down. “Rabbit stew, Soft cheese, and Fresh bread. Pitcher is Sweet tea,” He said. “the wife is proud of her brew, so feel free to ask for more.” That’s when they noticed the Gnome giggle and cover her face as she scampered away.

They giggled quietly as they realized that the Gnomish girl was the innkeeper’s Gnomish wife. Zaphyra and Morwen glanced at each other and shrugged. They guessed it was no stranger than a Barbarian woman together with a Drow Priestess. They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the fare.

The dinner crowd shambled in as they sat enjoying their meal. They would enter, eat, pay, and leave. Some would stay and order drinks, play cards, shoot darts, or simply converse. It seemed to Morwen like a normal restaurant environment. The only difference was the patrons. Many races she didn’t recognize.