Gyderic’s last act would be to pay for new clothing, lodging, maybe even a new start in a new city. Perhaps she’d thrown one of Gyderic’s belongings into her pouch without noticing, where it had remained undisturbed until now. Where had it come from? She didn’t recall packing it, but she’d been so hurt and terrified that she’d simply stuffed her pockets with whatever would fit. It looked like a moonstone, and a large one, easily the size of the last digit of her thumb. Mystified, Sheen dug for it, but only with the aid of an awl was she able to pry it loose from the cranny where it was wedged. The tools in her belt pouch shifted aside and something shone whitely beneath them. She went through her pouches and pockets methodically one last time looking for anything else she could sell.
It was just as well that she had little need for food it had allowed her to stretch the money this far, at least. She wrapped her threadbare cloak a little more tightly around herself, fully conscious of the contrast between her destitute state and the City of Splendors.
(image by Lucio Parrillo, from City of Splendors: Waterdeep)Ī year ago Sheen would never have thought it possible, but the walls of Waterdeep were beginning to feel like a cage.
