Chapter Text
We all met in a tavern.
There weren’t formal introductions, and there probably never would have been, if it weren’t for the scraggly teen who plowed through the front door to yell, “Father, Father, Timmy fell down the well!”
I could tell you how we all rushed to the well with heroic urgency, but that would be more embellishment than I am comfortable with. Viertes, Aramil, and Walagorn did, know that, although Viertes seemed more interested in a reward than the others.
I am Nymphadora, by all appearances a young wandering performer. There isn’t much more to tell. I am not sure who I am but I know what I want. The only thing that matters: true love.
You laugh. I’ve been laughed at before. How can a girl who waits for true love sell her body as a dancer on stage after stage? You do know they aren’t clapping for your music, bard? Go ahead, mock me. I have chosen this life, and I gave up my family for love. I dance and sing and do what I must because I know that once I find my lover, all that has come before will be meaningless. I travel and survive, waiting for a sign. And I try to stay out of trouble. I guess I should try harder in the future.
After most of the crowd had run for the well, I looked around at the remaining customers and sighed. My evening’s tips were going to suffer. I was leaning over to pack up my lute when I saw someone approaching a table from the corner of my eye. Movement away, not toward, the door was of interest. I knelt and pretended to pay attention to my packing while listening intently over the clatter of the inn.
“Please… my cat… my cat fell with Timmy down the well.”
The cloaked man, plain of voice, was appealing to a slender, unusual form at a side table that I had not previously noticed. A tiefling by the curl of her tail around one chair leg, with horns spiraling back over her hair. I had never spoken to a tiefling. My teacher- my only friend- had warned me to steer clear and I took those warnings to heart. Having lived a sheltered life, I wasn’t sure who to trust in the wider world I was so newly a part of.
The tiefling woman rose, and the man gestured to me now, beckoning.
“Please, come help. My cat!”
All my gear was packed. I shouldered it and followed the two, planning to walk by the well before wishing them luck and heading to wash and sleep at the inn next door. I had no interest in the townsfolk. This place was a cultural desert with no appreciation for poetry and music. Besides, I knew Timmy. He was always getting in trouble and into places he didn’t belong. He’d be alright. The cat I did not know, but don’t they always land on their feet anyway?