She wasn't the most popular girl at the brothel, but she brought steady work. Even here at the borderlands, she was seen as exotic - not because her kind was that rarely seen in these parts, but because half-orcs very rarely worked as prostitutes. So there was always demand. Some were turned on by the slightly greenish shade of her skin; some by her strength; some were women who were under the impression that procuring her services didn't really make them gay.
But her most devoted client was not one of them. He had been coming to Mistress Globb's establishment 3-4 times a month since the start of spring, and only for her. He always tipped the standard amount, not a copper more, and barely said a word. The first time he came he had seemed nervous, so she had tried to chat, but he wasn't interested. He just turned her around on her belly, did his job impassionately, finished on her back, turned around and left. His pattern didn't change the following times. It was fairly obvious: the guy hated orcs, and fucking her was his naive way of getting back at them. Kind of pathetic maybe, but better than picking a fight with them. For everyone involved.
So when Sylmi pointed him out in the inn and told her "hey, there's your guy," she wasn't happy. She had just wanted to have her drink in peace, but sure enough, a few minutes later, he reluctantly approached their table. He was probably just drunk enough to think this was a good idea. Just her luck.
"I'm not working right now," she told him coldly.
He took out a few silvers - more than a few: almost as much as she made in a month. "How about now?"
She was about to tell him that if he had that kind of money he should leave bigger tips, but Sylmi elbowed her.
"Don't be stupid, Rodry; go, and when you are done, you are gonna buy me dinner," her friend and sometimes lover whispered to her. "From that expensive dwarven place."
"Fine," she growled.
"I have a room," he said and started going up the stairs.