Disclaimer: Bioware's characters, situations, plot etc sadly do not belong to me. The only one I own is Jaiyan.

Chapter One – Waterdeep

Two days out of the forest, and the wind from the north was sharp and laden with the scent of snow. Huddled in a patched cape that probably needed burning more than it needed mending, Jaiyan gripped the reins in her cold hands and urged her post-horse on. Her fingers were icy within her damp leather gloves, and she had lost all feeling in her toes what seemed like hours ago.

The post-horse snorted beneath her, shaking out his loose mane. Dumpy and brown, the horse seemed quietly happy to stamp methodically along the narrow trail while his rider wished she had been less stingy with her choice of paid mount.

"You're not exactly the world's most stirring steed, are you?" she mused. She reached forward, patted the base of the horse's neck. "It's alright. I forgive you. As long as we get to the city by nightfall."

The horse flung his head up and whickered reproachfully.

She had lingered too long in the north through the autumn, and had found herself wasting time and coin in some no-name village deep in the forest when the first snows had fallen. She had woken, head heavy from a night of rowdy drinking, and discovered that the village was coated white, six inches deep. Remembering exactly why she hated the cold, and the snow – despite all the months she had spent in Hilltop, or perhaps because of them – she had planned to leave as quickly as possible.

And, in striding out of the inn door, had walked smack-bang into a man clad in the colours of Waterdeep's messengers. After a quick interrogation, she had learned that the summons came from none other than The Yawning Portal – another tavern, and one of her favourites, if she were forced to choose. A hasty choice and an exchange of copper had seen her out of the forest and down the slender, winding trail that dipped and rose through rough crags towards the Waterdeep road.

Which had seemed an admirable and exciting decision, at least until that brutal north wind had come shearing down from the forest and turned her nose blue.

Jaiyan sighed and leaned back in the saddle. No matter how many times she rammed her heels against the post-horse's flanks, he kicked up no gait faster than an uneven trot. Maybe next time I'll demand some snarling stallion with smoke curling out of his mouth, she thought wryly. Still, the brown horse was dependable, and had slogged consistently all day, despite the cold and odd flurry of snow tumbling down from grey clouds.

The horse raised his broad head and snorted. Jaiyan followed his gaze, saw that the road switch-backed between tall, raised pillars of rock, descending towards a vast spread of roofs and arches and towers and spires.

Waterdeep, City of Splendours, with the sea glittering beyond. Lamps glowed along the waterfront and torches rose at the gates and along the city walls. Behind the city, the pale sun sank slowly, arcing down towards the rippling sea.

Jaiyan sighed, suddenly happier. She threaded her fingers through the horse's mane. "Well, oats for you and ale for me, I think. Just get us there before it gets much colder."

The brown horse flicked his ears back and plodded on, tail lashing. The trek down towards the coast proper stole the better part of two hours, and Jaiyan shivered as the wind wailed between the high rock chimneys. By the time the city gates reared into view, flanked with torches and guards, the sun was well past the horizon, and the night air was vicious. She gave the bored-looking guards a crisp nod, silently praying they would not detain her with questions.

Not that she had anything to hide; she carried little beyond a pouch of coin, her sword, two spare daggers, a bedroll, and her clothes. But the air was bitter, and she was certain the tips of her fingers were about to drop off, and there was a tankard in The Yawning Portal with her name on it.

The guard barely shrugged in response, so she gathered up the post-horse's reins and tried to look brisk. The brown horse lumbered through the gates, and she heard the sounds of the city she admitted – if only to herself – that she had missed. The horse's hooves rang against the cobbles, and she tipped her head back, looked up at early stars framed by towering spires.

She found a courier's stable not far from the gates, and with wry reluctance dropped the horse off. She gave the horse a quick rub to the face and ordered the skinny stable boy to treat him nicely and produce the promised oats. With a final pat to the horse's broad nose, she headed off into the lamp-lit darkness, her sword slung at her hip and her legs aching.

Five long, looping streets at a smart-paced walk, and she finally felt the twinges from three days riding start to ease from her muscles. Instinctively, she knew the way to The Yawning Portal – past the temples, through the very edge of the merchant district, and back up to where the broad-fronted shops finally gave way to wide avenues and tall houses. And there, with the main door flung open and warm light flooding out, was the tavern. Even crossing the cobbles, she could hear the noise from within – laughter, conversation, raucous shouting. Everything a tavern needs on a cold night, she thought, smiling.

With her breath pluming around her, Jaiyan laid one hand on her sword, and ducked under the lintel. Heat and sound hit her first; the blaze of warmth from the fire, the talk of the patrons; and then the familiar noises of tankards clinking, of footfalls against creaking floorboards.

She wove a quick path through the tables nearest the door, making her way to the bar and the fire. The tavern was heaving, she noticed, and, now that she was inside, she realized the chatter and laughter had a nervous, taut edge.

Something was not at all right.

Admittedly, the summons had called for help, for adventurers; but for an entire taproom of drinkers and roisterers to be coiled with tension? That, she did not understand.

Very carefully, she slipped between two bulky men who looked like soldiers, and laid her hands on the beer-sticky bar.

The innkeeper had his back to her, was busy filling two huge tankards. "Anything I can get you?"

"Expensive ale for an old friend?"

The innkeeper turned, and his creased, tired face stretched into a smile. "Jaiyan! What brings you here, missy?"

She shrugged. "Oh, nothing much. I just happened to bump into a messenger, up in High Forest. He tells me help is needed in Waterdeep, and that the message comes from The Yawning Portal, no less. How could I stand by and look on after hearing that?"

The innkeeper laughed. "Well, I have to admit I didn't expect you. Thought you were headed for warmer climes."

"The City of Splendours, Durnan," she said wryly. "It keeps calling me, it seems. I never got much past the snowline, got bored, and came back. It all seemed a bit…purposeless."

Durnan shoved the foaming tankards across the bar towards two waiting patrons, men clad in leather armour and balancing spears over their shoulders. He turned back to Jaiyan, leaned over the bar. "Well, I can give you a purpose. Not a safe purpose, I'll grant you."

"The messenger was tantalizingly obscure. Help needed, no details."

"Yes, well." Durnan sighed. "Let me get you a drink, and I'll tell you all about it."

Jaiyan waited while he poured her a tankard of dark, rich ale, and followed him to a small table, half-hidden in a narrow corner. There, with her cold hands wrapped around the tankard, and Durnan sipping at spiced wine, she listened.

"Been a while, now," he said slowly. "You know why the tavern's got its name?"

"You told me," she answered. "There's some portal or other in one of the back rooms. Big stone thing, opens down onto a shaft that leads right down into Undermountain."

"Right." Durnan nodded heavily. "Undermountain. You know its run by a mad wizard, Halaster?"

"Yes. Retreated down to his own personal playground, am I right?"

"Yes. Halaster always kept to himself, doing his magics and his experiments. Didn't like to think much of it, but still, he never bothered us." Durnan sighed. "Problem is, Halaster's Undermountain opens onto the Underdark proper."

Jaiyan gripped her tankard tighter. "I don't like where this is going."

"No. Something's happened down there, and I don't know what. Maybe drow attacking from underneath, maybe something's happened to Halaster. I don't know." Durnan shrugged helplessly. "All I know is, drow have been seen in Waterdeep. They've been seen in here, in the tavern itself. They come out at night, and they kill people."

Jaiyan gulped on the ale. "Drow?"

"Drow, indeed. Whatever was stopping them before is not there, and they're in the city some nights."

"What does it mean?"

"Mean? I don't know. What do drow want, ever?" Durnan leaned back in his chair. "Conquest. Killing. Whatever they want."

"And that's what the call was about?"

"Yes. I needed adventurers foolhardy enough to venture down into Undermountain, and perhaps into the Underdark itself, to find out what's going on down there. And how much danger Waterdeep is in."

Jaiyan loosened her grip on her tankard. She looked up, into Durnan's tired dark eyes. "Well, foolhardy I do quite well. Drow, though, and the Underdark…"

"I know." Slightly guilty, Durnan shrugged. "Look, missy, you don't have to do anything. Just stay the night, and have a few drinks on me."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Really? Tell me something that terrifying and interesting, and expect me to walk away? Who do you think you're talking to, Durnan?"

"Someone mature and sensible, obviously." Durnan smiled. "I'm sorry to have dragged you into this."

"No, you're not." She lifted the tankard, and the ale flooded across her tongue, warming. "Give me somewhere to stay, and you're on. Tomorrow, I'll head on down and see what's happening."

He nodded, quietly impressed. "There'll be allies for you. We've had a few people come in, declaring themselves heroes."

"Really? You let me think I'd be all alone." She smirked. "Who've you got?"

"Come and meet them, and then you can talk about it." Durnan's smile turned sly. "And we've got an old favourite of yours, came into the city a few days ago."

She frowned, not understanding. "Who?"

"Go into the common room next door, and see if he's finished deafening my customers yet."

With a sudden, bright smile plastered across her face, Jaiyan grabbed her tankard and kicked away from the table. Not caring who she jostled, she elbowed her way through the crowd, and under the big archway to the adjoining chamber. To where, sitting perched at the hearth, was a small kobold. Lute in hand, with his clawed fingers raking out notes from trembling strings, he stumbled his way through a high-pitched song about a knight facing off against a snarling dragon. His tail beat time against the hearthstones, and his small, black eyes were closed as he sang.

Jaiyan made it to the mantelpiece, stopped as he finished. With his gaze downturned, the kobold twisted the pegs on his lute and sighed.

"Nice tune," Jaiyan said, softly.

The kobold jumped bolt upright, his tail snapping out wildly. His clawed hands wrapped around the lute, and he stared at her, unbelieving. "Boss?"

"Hello, Deekin." Jaiyan crouched down and wrapped her arms around the kobold's small, reptilian frame. "How are you?"

"Singing, Boss," he answered, simply. He tipped his head on one side. "Deekin wonders…"

"Yes?"

"Deekin wonders…" The little kobold scuffed a foot against the hearth. "If Boss is here to go down into Undermountain, can Deekin come too?"

"Deekin." Jaiyan looked firmly at him. "You came here to answer Durnan's call for adventurers, yes?"

The kobold nodded.

"Then it seems that I shall be the one coming with you." She reached out, touched his narrow face. "If you don't mind."

"Of course Deekin not minds! Now, Deekin can write second book about Boss."

She grimaced. Terrible memories of the kobold writing down everything, from her every expression to the state of her smallclothes to her last snarled obscenity came to mind. "Wonderful. Now, come and have a drink with me. And we can talk about what we want to do next."

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Deekin sat with his feet swinging above the floorboards, his hands clasped around a cup of spiced wine. Opposite him, Jaiyan started in on her second tankard. "So what have you been up to, Deeks?"

He shrugged lightly. "Writing lots of songs. Singing to humans."

She laughed. "Been enjoying yourself?"

"Sometimes." He shifted uncomfortably. "Not always, Boss."

"I know." She sighed, understanding. He was still, above all, a kobold. "Know anything I don't about Undermountain?"

"Big maze down there, Boss. Mad wizard gots lots of things, monsters and things, running around."

"What do they do down there?"

"Deekin not sure. Maybe eat each other."

Jaiyan laughed. "What about the drow?"

"Drow might eat each other, too. Deekin read plenty about drow elves, just not ever met any."

"Neither have I." She tipped the tankard up, let the ale slip down her throat. "I suppose we'll find out. Who else answered Durnan's call?"

"Adventurers." Deekin nodded. "Big half-orc from Neverwinter and some others."

"Neverwinter?" Jaiyan arched an eyebrow. "Let me guess. They all claim to have helped the Hero of Neverwinter get rid of the plague?"

"And save Neverwinter from ancient lizards."

She leaned her chin on her hands. Given that Deekin would usually describe her previous adventures as getting turned into stone and then beating up a medusa in a floating city, she wondered about the truth. "I never heard much about that. There was a war involved, yes?"

Deekin nodded. "Where was Boss?"

"In Hilltop, getting shouted at by Drogan for not holding my sword properly."

The little kobold clicked his teeth thoughtfully. "Other adventurers having big meeting in the morning. Decide how to be heroes."

"Well." She drained the tankard. "I suppose we should be there with them, yes? Show them what we can do?"

"Deekin has plenty of parchment, so Deekin ready for anything."

She reached out, patted the little kobold's hand. "Good. Look, I'm going to see if they have hot water in this place. I'll see you tomorrow, yes?"

He nodded furiously. "Boss?"

"Yes, Deekin?"

"Don't go without Deekin this time."

She stepped past him, squeezed his shoulder on the way. "Promise."

Upstairs, she accosted a maid and asked for a bath. After being assured that nothing was too great a request for one of Durnan's adventurers, she found herself ensconced in a small, serviceable room overlooking the waterfront. She pulled the curtains closed, blocking out the glittering sea, and turned with a weary smile to the wooden tub.

She dumped her packs and weapons on the floor by the bed, stripped off her clothes. Uncaring, she let them fall onto the sheets, kicked her boots off. Gingerly, she lowered herself into the steaming water, let the heat work its delicious way into aching muscles and tired skin. She combed a hand through her hair, tugged the ties free, and let her tresses spill loose in the water.

She had missed Deekin, she realized. Since they had both slogged back from the wide, burning deserts of Anauroch, and had parted in Waterdeep, she had missed the little kobold's voice and presence and incessant note-taking. And even, if she confessed to no one but herself, his absurd singing. He had blundered into her life one snowy evening near Hilltop, and had welded himself inescapably to her and her path. He had been there when the caravan had broken down in the desert, and they had ventured off into stinger nests. Had stood beside her when the great cities of the Netherese had risen from the dust and had been there when they finally confronted the sorceress, Heurodis, who had been a medusa.

Jaiyan dragged herself out of the tub, scattering water droplets across the floorboards. Wrapping herself in a huge towel, she collapsed onto the bed. With one foot, she kicked the pile of loose clothes onto the floor and burrowed beneath the sheets, still damp, her hair straggling across the pillow. Some part of her considered tidying her things, and maybe drying her hair, and cleaning her sword, but sleep was beckoning, and she slipped into strange, dark dreams.