To the rescue

The potion lady and the auctioneers were talking about it. So were the tanner and a couple of commoners down in these parts. Freehaven was buzzing with the extended absence of one performer that never went unnoticed. Especially when she played.

"Nanga...where are you?" The Black Hin whispered, as she peered from beneath the apex of her red cowl. The fire-site where Nanga was usually found was empty, and for three weeks now Stiki had come and waited for her friend. But the Dark Elven Minstrel was not here.

Stiki had found a place where she finally felt safe, Free Haven, though a bit rough and unpredictable, catered to the Hin's nature. She was a balanced sneak that possessed a little fighting prowess, Free Haven provided a great base camp for her to exercise her theivery and mischeif. Shadowdale had banned her and offered a 20,000gp reward for her dead or alive. Myth Drannor required an extensive scrutinizing observation of her movements due to her Drow'ish looking appearance and the pass-ways between were fraught with bandits and people who either feared or discriminated openly against her. If she wasn't Drow, she was a Hin, if she wasn't a Hin then she was a reduced Drow. There was no end to the berating disposition of the Daleland's.

The fire crackled lightly in front of her and she was taken back to the wonderful evenings, after a long days worth of Pock picking and sneaking, she would come here. Nanga sat there, just beyond the fire, on that bench, mandolin in hand, a veritable symphony emitting from the hollow of that instrument. She remembered her hands, so quick and subtle, effortlessly strumming the strings, as if the music was already there and all the composer had to do was push her fingers across the strings. Stiki fell into a trance when she heard those melodies, note by note they assaulted the soft part in her heart, which was big, but hidden well! Nanga's music found her sneaky heart and exploited it bare. She was overcome by a sense of fellowship and ease that had never been felt before. For the first time and every time after that, when Nanga played she felt like home, but now her minstrel is gone. She felt terribly homesick and decided to vomit.

"Are you just going to stand there? Or do you intend on buying something?" The potion lady, annoyed as usual with the mighty Black Hin. Stiki didn't feel mighty, she felt pukey. "I have a concoction that neutralizes nausea." She added, face squinted up in disgust.



To be continued.

"I'm fine, really." Stiki replied, still looking at the empty campsite. Just then a patron of the potion lady sauntered up to the main display and looked down at the Hin standing over her dinner.

"Eh, did one of your potions make her sick like that?" The human male asked, he was tall, dark skinned and handsome by his race's standards. Stiki glanced at him momentarily and wiped the slobber and snot from her face with a sleeve of her garb.

"Absolutely not! She hasn't bought anything today, been staring at that campfire for hours, like some weirdo pyromaniac."

Stiki ignored them both and snorted, then spit the taste of puke out of her mouth.

The man laughed heartily, never thinking he'd ever see a mini-drow doing such a thing, especially a female. But Stiki was no drow.

"That's disgusting, take your manners back to the underdark if you insist on doing that!" snapped the vendor pointing to the way out.

"Take it easy Gypsy, she's not from our social class. Are you miss....?" He extends an un-gloved hand.

The Hin, always a sucker for polite gestures reaches back with her own gloved hand,"Stiki."

"That's ok my hand's a little sweaty."

"No, that's my name, Stiki Lockpicker."

"Well Stiki Lockpicker," he replied smiling from underneath the brim of his sombrero,"I'm Darrin...Darrin Twoshoes." they shook briefly and were now facing one another. Darrin kept looking towards the fire, the focal point of Stiki's fascination.

"So Stiki, you waiting on someone? Or do you like to play with fire?"

"I'm...I don't know what I'm doing, my friend is gone and I've been waiting here forever, but no one talks to Half-people."

Darrin listened intently as he browsed some of Gypsy's newest shipment on the display. "Four of these." He tucked some purple colored potions to the side and continued.

"I like your feather Mr. Darrin." Stiki continued on a tangent subject.

"Oh this thing," he smartly replied regarding the rather large quill tucked away snug in the strap of his sombrero. "It's called a writ."

"A writ? What's-?"

"A quill, I write with it, you know...writing." he made the gesture in the air, as if writing.

"Oh...that's nice."

"So your friend, do they have a name?"

"Sure, her name is Nanga, she's a-"

"Minstrel, sure I've heard of her, plays a mean mandoe from what I've heard."

"A what?" The hin responded, cocking her head to the side.

"Nevermind." he waved it off. "She's not around anymore, and it's just hearsay, but from what I gather the underdark swallowed her up." Darrin made a swallowing sound as if the emphasize the point.

Stiki's blood ran cold and immediately she began to feel a sense of panic. If that was true, then this was worse than she thought. There was only one thing she could do, the only thing she must do.

"Hey kid, you ok? You're kinda gazing off on me."




To be continued.

"I have to go." Stiki replied at once.

"Well there's an outhouse just past the auctioneer to the left."

"No, I have to go get her." The Hin bit her bottom lip, as if suddenly understanding the overwhelming task ahead of her. But then, suddenly a sheer look of determination came into her expression, she stomped once and set off to the nearest vendor that outfitted adventure gear.

"Hey kid, where yah goin'?!"


"I'm going home." Nanga...here I come.


Spencer Beholder leaned against the vendors display and pulled out an apple, after a large bite, he smiled chewing. "Hmph. Gyp, whatta think...The Black Hin...?" as if discovering some profoundly clever moniker.

The vendor just rolled her eyes and scoffed in disgust. "I think Darrin is a stupid name." she replied.

The bard could only smile at that and took another crunchy bite. He watched Stiki disappear into the gloom of Freehaven and glanced back to the campfire, so warm and bright...inviting almost.


"Good luck Kid. You're gonna need it."


To be continued.

It didn't take long for her to find all of the necessary items she would need to begin her spelunking for Nanga. She was outfitted in studded leather armor, then took it to a vendor who specialized in staining leather. A curious glance was cast at her for requesting pitch black. She also stained her hood and mask to match her new armor. All carry on equipment had to be suited to camouflage in the Underdark, which meant everything had to blend within the deep surroundings. Her cloak was similarly tarnished and her weapons painted to match. This was one of the few times where her skin color actually benefited her, being obsidian as any Drow Elf's, but she wished she had the burning gaze and red pupils, to mask her identity further.

Stiki set off at once, un-delayed and without conflict, until she came to Midwood and began heading towards that Ork cave that was always posted with a warning. It was early in the morning so she wasn't concerned with Drow being out right now, unless some were delayed back from a raid and hastened to get to the caves. Only then would she have a problem. Still there were also the ones who didn't mind the sunshine so much and came out anyway, slaughtering with reckless abandon. Stiki didn't care, she'd see her way through Drow, Orks, Illithids, whatever...Bring it on! For the first time in her life, she had somewhere to go, a place she belonged. By Brandobaris, she was going to get there!

The trail treated her well, and there remained a crisp chill in the air. She kept out of the main road, never traversing the beaten path. From out of the brush, crouching low she saw it. A figure step out into the open, with long flowing platinum hair, pink ribbons and perfectly fitted spectacles. She was beautiful beyond explanation, an unnatural beauty that would rival any charismatic demi-god. It was Nanga...It was home.

"Now who do I see sneaking around over there?" The Drow Female commented in Stiki's direction. So lost in thought and awe was the Hin that she forgot she was actually hiding (not very well apparently). So stepping out into the path and finally reunited with Nanga, the Black hin smiled and removed her cowl and mask. It had to be a dream, it was a dream and she dared not pinch herself. But the embrace she and Nanga shared confirmed that this was reality and her daring rescue attempt, dared to succeed!

The two stood in the road that morning, talking about many things, but mostly how they've missed one another. And Nanga, who honored her family insisted that she must return below. Stiki understood the dangers well enough to know, that if she followed, she may never return.

But she'd rather die at home, than anywhere else. As the two descended into Darkness, Stiki felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She hoped she would see Bram again, May'Katcha and Maus Sane, Ny'onna with Aruna, Jeka; who was so wise and classy for a Hin, good friends all! But most of all she would miss herself. Because down here, she had to tuck a part of Stiki Lockpicker away. Down here, it was madness and chaos, where only the strongest of nightmares survived.


End.