The entire excursion was useless. Then again, Cruck’aa had known that from that start.

“Hey, wasn’t he from the tournament?”

The issue remained that he hadn’t a clue where to start looking. No one else had been helpful in figuring that out beyond what they all already knew, and of course, he wasn’t allowed to fly within the city.

“Oh, it’s you. You sucked in the tournament, you know that?”

All Cruck’aa knew was that they were looking for a hole into the city. Of course, it had been so long since they’d talked with Larion, Cruck’aa couldn’t remember what the man had said. At this point, “hole in the wall” could have meant anything.

“I mean, the lightning was nice, but he never even came down! He’s a coward!”

Jo had mentioned a good starting place, but nothing had come from it. Perhaps if she’d work with him to scour the damn ward, they’d have found something by now.

“Yeah! Everyone else was so awesome to watch! Did you see the fire lady? She was –”

Cruck’aa glanced up at the rickety street sign that loomed over the crosswalk, ignoring the sneers and jeers from the people around him. “Fish Street” was written in chunky lettering, run ragged by the stiff ocean air. It was a fitting name, considering that all of Dock Ward looked like a rotting fish. Rolling his eyes at yet another insult hurled his way, Cruck’aa stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the busy street.

It had taken him an hour to reach the Dock Ward; having nothing else to go, he had picked a direction within the city that he knew none of them had visited yet, hoping something would present itself. For today, that meant going south.

Which, somehow, looked even worse than the northern parts of the city.

At first glance, everything within the Dock Ward looked vaguely similar; giant stone buildings formed walls along the overly packed sidewalks, with wagons and carriages clogging the streets. Only upon closer inspection did he notice the cracks – literal cracks, in many of the houses and stores, which looked like they’d been there for years; glass windows were a rarity, with simple wooden shutters preferred instead; everything seemed dirtier somehow, including the people, whose attire had shifted to thinner tunics and pants more suitable for manual labor. Many walked with their head and shoulders slumped, pulled down by some invisible weight; children ran unattended through the alleyways and streets without so much as a glance thrown their way.

And the smell.

Cruck’aa shuddered as he stepped back onto the sidewalk. The moment he did, everyone around him began to gawk and point, though he paid them no heed.

“Hey birdie!” A voice yelled from behind. “Why ya walking?! Why ain’t ya flying?!” Cruck’aa rolled his eyes as everyone began to snicker.

While Jo, Serena, and Pavel had all become famous overnight, Cruck’aa had been quickly vilified by the public. Evidently, having proper tactics made one extremely unpopular.

A man stepped out from the crowd, blocking Cruck’aa’s path. He looked about as proper as a rotting fish and smelled just as worse. Fitting for the street they were on.

“Ah!” The horrid man grinned, exposing black teeth. “You’re even uglier in person! Are –”

Cruck’aa bumped his shoulder into the man, sending him toppling to the ground. An easy feat, when Cruck’aa towered over him.

“Hey, you shit!” The man yelled, leaping to his feet as Cruck’aa stalked away. “It was a joke! Gods, I should teach you some manners!”

But he didn’t. No one bothered Cruck’aa whenever he reminded them of where they stood before him. He supposed he was lucky in that regard. Despite the hate thrown his way, Cruck’aa preferred it over the mobs that always descended upon his friends these days.

Which, of course, was yet another reason why he had no help in their job.

Cruck’aa frowned; it seemed as though that everything was against him when it came to their mission. First it was the tournament, distracting even Cruck’aa with its vices, then came all the attention they’d received from their efforts after. All of it cumulated into the perfect storm for everyone to forget what they had come to do in Waterdeep in the first place. Had they just remained focused on their task, perhaps they could have left the city by now.

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As he passed the opening of an alleyway, Cruck’aa instinctively glanced down it, only to halt in the middle of the sidewalk. The people around him began to grumble angrily, giving him a wide berth as they walked around him.

Two men stood a few feet into the alleyway, far enough from the street that they drew little attention. They were dressed in burlap cloaks, rough tunics, and stood close enough together to look suspicious. Their heads were bowed as they engaged in what looked to be an intense conversation, though Cruck’aa couldn’t hear a word from where he stood.

He narrowed his eyes, an idea crawling its way to the surface of his mind. Perhaps this was what he needed, although it remained farfetched at best. Still, what did he have to lose?

“You two!” Cruck’aa snapped as he marched into the alleyway; the busy cacophony of the city mercifully faded a little bit. “I have questions for you both!”

The two men jumped and turned towards him, hands on the knives strapped to their belts. Both looked identical, shortly cropped hair and smooth faces that hadn’t seen a day of honest work, though one had a nasty scar that ran down the length of his cheek.

“Are you two with the Thieves Guild?” Cruck’aa asked, halting a foot away from them. “Or do you know of them?”

The men immediately burst into laughter; the one with the clean face almost doubled over.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?!” The one with the scar demanded through his giggles. “Ya a goddamn tourist? Asking stupid questions like that.”

“Nah,” His partner said, laughter cutting off immediately; he gestured a long-nailed hand at Cruck’aa. “that thing ain’t no tourist, it’s that fucking bird! Remember?”

“Ah!” The scarred man peered closer. “So it is! The fucking birdman! What are ya doing in our neck of the alleys, birdman?”

Cruck’aa rolled his eyes.

“We ain’t part of that damned guild birdman.” The scarred man spit. “Too uppity for us folk. We own this stretch, not them.”

“Our alleys, our streets, our rules.” The second crossed his arms. “Normally we’d have to go out of our way to find idiots like you, but you came to us by yourself!” He smiled, teeth as disgusting as his nails. “Thank you!”

“Would you shut up?” Cruck’aa asked. “I don’t have time to listen to you. If neither of you are with the guild, then how do I contact them?”

“Well, first, ya don’t.” The scarred man said. “Second, the fuck ya think ya’re doing, telling us to shut up in our alleys? That’s just fucking rude.”

“Fucking rude.” Echoed his partner.

“And I think we need to correct that behavior.”

“Correct it.”

“Plus, yar friend won all that gold right? How much are ya worth to him? Think –”

Cruck’aa flicked his hand; a vine, dark green and thorny, materialized into his palm and flew out, wrapping around the throat of the scarred man.

His hands shot up to the vine, eyes bulging, as he gasped for air. His partner yelled, backing up against the alley wall.

Cruck’aa grasped the vine and yanked it; the scarred man was pulled violently to the ground, head smashing against the stone with a sickening crunch. He gasped, then lay still.

“Now,” Cruck’aa said, dispelling the vine. “How do I contact the Thieves Guild?”

The clean faced man screamed; he sank to the ground, body trembling, as the color drained from his face.

“What the fuck?!” He yelled, voice shrill. “What the fuck?! Why’d you do that?!”

“Why don’t you tell me how I contact the Guild before it happens to you too.” Cruck’aa said flatly, stepping over the body of the scarred man. By now, blood began to pool under his head.

The clean faced threw his arms up, cringing away from Cruck’aa. A dark stain slowly grew on the front of his pants.

“I-I I don’t know!” He stammered. “I don’t know! We’re not with them, I swear, I swear!”

“You have no idea?” Cruck’aa asked.

“I don’t! They won’t let us in! I swear!” Tears began to spill down the man’s cheeks. “Please, you gotta believe me, I don’t know! I swear! Please!”

Cruck’aa narrowed his eyes. The stain on the man’s pants had only gotten bigger, and as he stood there, the man began to hyperventilate.

He sighed.

“Fine. Get.” Cruck’aa shooed him away. The man needed no second invitation; he leapt to his feet and sprinted out of the alleyway, immediately swallowed up by the crowds outside.

Cruck’aa placed his hands on his hips and glanced backwards. More blood had begun to pool around the dead man’s head. Cruck’aa hadn’t meant to kill him, but it had been obvious that the man meant him harm. Doubtless the Guard wouldn’t see it like that.

Of course, none of this would have occurred if Cruck’aa hadn’t been the only one looking for this damned hole. He was sure that, had the others been reminded of their job, they would have found it by now.

Cruck’aa sighed and stared up at the beautiful blue sky above him, barely visible between the two buildings.

Getting Jo and Pavel back on board would be easy enough. As irritating as both could be, deep down, they understood the importance of their job, their mission. Jo had already expressed that, and with the tournament over, Pavel lacked any good excuse for not helping Cruck’aa. No doubt he’d enjoy a distraction from all his attention anyways.

Serena, however, was another matter entirely. Somehow, Cruck’aa would have to free her from the clutches of that woman, a task that seemed impossible with how often they spent together. It hadn’t helped that Serena had refused to leave the house due to all the attention she’d been receiving, but that could be fixed rather quickly. It was that woman that remained a problem.

Cruck’aa shook his head, turned on his heel, and began to make his way out of the alley.

The sooner they got out of this city, and away from that woman, the better. Perhaps then Serena would go back to normal.