“Damn it, you human scum! That round table requested ale, not bitters! I’m giving you a second chance at life working here and you can’t even distinguish what drink to give out!? Get back behind the counter!”
Aiasha retreated with a sense of her own bitterness back to the counter. As a peace offering from a village she no longer remembered to halt skirmishes with an incoming Orc war-band, she could only sulk back to her position as barmaid and occasional belly dancer and work out her “remaining days” as her mistress called them.
She was working on borrowed time of course; with the war climate she came out of, she was lucky not to be dead. She had rarely seen the outside world but through a window in her small family’s ragged house. She had consistent memories of fire and fighting. And yet, she never could leave the house without absolute watch from her father and mother. How she longed to remember them. All she really could remember, however, was that her mistress was a real piece of work. Her mistress constantly had to remind her about how if it wasn’t for her talent for belly dancing “even without the belly,” she’d be done for. And yet, somehow, Aiasha had a respect for her mistress.
In the middle of her work, her mistress pulled Aiasha to the side and suddenly tied her arms together with a strong rope. “What the hell are yo—“ “Shut it! You listen to my words so you can stay afloat with a life here. Now listen, sweetheart, I know your dancing is wasted without uhh... a “fuller” figure let’s say.” Aiasha began to struggle against the mistress, but she soon pulled her off to a darkened room and tied her against a chair. Aiasha couldn’t break the bondage. Was this it for her? She prayed to Jynera for safety.
“Now listen darling. You will eat all I put in front of you. I won’t let you go until you do so. Now get to it!” With that, the mistress left a wake of food in front of Aiasha. She soon had no choice, she had to...
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