Lush Luskan Life – Sheryl the Fae-Touched – 7&19.07.2020

---

“Welcome aboard my ship,” the drow privateer gestures with flare to the metal surrounding them. “Do you have the proof?”

Traavor pulls out the papers, handing them over.

“Wonderful!” He quickly snatches them up and starts reading. Sheryl watches his face, curious to see his reaction. “This is good, this is- this is very good. You’re a competent bunch. Where are you from?”

A mercurial grin spreads across the fae-bard’s face. “Very, very far from here.”

“Ah, the little continent newly discovered a few years ago, was it? Yes, yes, I have heard of it.”

“You should come see it for yourself,” Sheryl suggests invitingly.

“Oh, no no, alas, I couldn’t. While Lord Neverember walks this Material Plane I cannot rest. Maybe another time. Alas, I have my fingers in many jam pots here,” Jarlaxle replies.

He turns to the slightly older drow, taking a chest from his hands and opening it up for them all to see. Sheryl peers in, sees three potion vials and only five pouches containing money. Her brow furrows in thought as the drow captain illustrates the treasure he is giving them for helping with his task.

“So where to now?” Jarlaxle asks the group.

“Can you take us to Neverwinter?” Traavor inquires.

“Of course, I was going there myself.” He turns to his man, starting to issue orders for where to take the submerged ship.

“Captain Jarlaxle,” Sheryl says, catching the elf’s attention, a smile on her face. The shadows at her feet shift a little. “We have our wonderful little mascot here.” She gestures to Pieni’s mouse form, poking his nose out from Varis’ pocket, his little paws together in a pleading gesture. “They’ve been so crucial to our whole mission. Is there no way we can get some form of payment for our little friend as well?”

There is a slight shift in the atmosphere, almost like the air gets a bit colder. The metal of the ship creaking in a way that to Sheryl sounds like a bird call. She blinks and smiles up at the captain.

I got hit really bad in that fight. I'm probably still a bit dazed.

“Look, I appreciate you’ve done something impressive, the adrenaline is quite high.” Jarlaxle gives her an unflinching stare. “But I would suggest you don’t take that tone with me.”

The smile slips from Sheryl’s face as she looks at the captain, confused.

Jarlaxle turns away from her, nodding to the others. “I’ll drop you off in Neverwinter.” With a swoosh of his cape, he walks deeper into the ship’s bowels.

But I was asking politely…

Sheryl stands there, confused at what just happened, until one of the others gets her attention. She follows them to the galley, where they wait for their underwater ship to make its way into port at Neverwinter.

---

A few days after her return from Faerûn, Sheryl and Astra were enjoying a quiet summer afternoon in their Fey Clearing in the Feythorn Forest. Sheryl had been working on some grammar homework Lindella – the tutor she had found to teach her Elvish – had given her, but her thoughts kept drifting. This always happened to her on the hottest days of the season. Astra was rolling around on the soft grass, trying to get an itch or just being playful it was hard to tell. But as Sheryl kept staring at her Astra quickly abandoned her rolling and sat up with as much dignity she could muster.

“You have some leaves in your mane,” Sheryl observed, trying not to laugh too hard, though a soft peel did escape past her lips. “Possibly a new look?”

Astra tosses her mane.

“Nope, still there.”

She gets up and shakes herself down. Most of them fall out but a few remain.

“Do you want some help?” the fae-bard asks, now laughing in earnest.

“If her highness would deign to do such a lowly task,” Astra says, a fake air of pompousness to her as she half bows. “I know you are so busy just laying there in the sun, nevermind the studies you have abandoned.”

“Well!” Sheryl exclaims, matching Astra’s tone. “Since you acknowledge my magnanimous station so eloquently I guess I could deign to help you, my mighty steed.”

Sheryl gracefully gets up and comes over as Astra settles back down in the grass. They are silent for a few minutes as the small woman delicately takes the bits of nature that had gotten into the starlight and moonbeam coloured strands of Astra’s soft hair.

“Everyone of them is so strong,” Sheryl says softly across their bond, a contemplative wonder to the tone of her voice. “They really knew how to work together as a unit. Baine is even stronger than the last time I had seen him in battle. He utterly annihilated two of the fiendish monstrosities we ended up fighting on the roof of that tower in Luskan. Pieni was wonderful and very helpful – to me and everyone else he could be.” She smiles. “We have a similar way of trying to look at who needs our assistance in a fight and a desire to keep our friends alive. I hardly saw Traavor, until he was knocked back but he got up pretty quick after a few encouraging words from yours truly. He ended up getting the answers he needed, if not necessarily the answers he wanted from his father, which is what matters.”

Sheryl starts to braid sections of Astra’s mane and the winged unicorn closes her eyes contentedly, enjoying the pampering. As she continues, Sheryl’s expression shifts, her brow furrowing and flickering briefly into a perturbed one.

“Taffeta had been struck by a mind controlling spell and had I not been so eager to rush forward into the fray – a mistaken attempt to prove myself – I might have been able to stop it. I felt the pain of that mistake later on, not that I blame her for shooting at me. She wasn’t in control when she did.”

Sheryl’s deft fingers have made several braids at this point, weaving the grass and flowers of the clearing into Astra’s hair in a haphazard but beautiful way. She stops, tilts her head and nods, happy with the look of it. Astra moves her head from side to side, doesn’t seem to mind the weight of her hair and nods her thanks.

They sit together for a moment, silent and watching the tree tops dance in the light breeze. Sheryl wants to fly up there and she feels the feathers of her cloak stir at the thought, anticipating.

“And what of the Grandmaster?” Astra asks.

Sheryl blinks, looking at her friend. An involuntary smile touches her lips.

“Varis…” Sheryl thinks for a moment. “Varis is a beacon, a strong light, so radiant, inspiring even. Seeing him move across that battlefield, there with a grace and power I didn’t appreciate the first time. He and the Green Knight are similar in a way, now that I think about it…” She pauses. “The stage of any battlefield is one I have slowly been growing accustomed to. But there is something about seeing him on that stage, Astra… There is an art and beauty to it.”

Astra turns to look at her mistress and sees her expression is wistful and far away. She leaves her mistress to her thoughts, feeling something of them through their telepathic connection but not wanting to pry.

Sheryl finally lets out a sigh and turns to Astra.

“What about you and Tuevel? How was your time with him?”

Astra looks at Sheryl and sees the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She lets out a huff, shaking her head but proceeds to tell her mistress about their journey whilst the sun slowly moves across the sky.