Clara held the parchment close to her chest as she looked up at the sign as it swung lazily. A light breeze swept through the narrow streets of the town, lifting and carrying loose pieces of discarded materials. The smell of salty air filled the young woman's nostrils, a smell she was very unfamiliar with. She turned her gaze to the wide streets, her luxuriant brown hair shimmered beneath the gas lamps above.
The street itself was almost completely vacant of people, with the exception of workers tiredly making their way home and a few drunken men who had already had their fill for the night. The interior of the Tempered Mare, however, was as lively as ever. It was a modestly sized brothel that sat just on the edge of the cities docks. Sailors would arrive from all parts of Hichin, eager to find temporary relief from the endlessly rocking boats and crashing waves.
Vices were in abundance across the docks, cashing in on the always revolving clientele. Gambling dens were dotted around, though gambling itself was illegal in the city, proprietors of such establishments made sure to grease the palms of certain officials. Bars and taverns were frequent, some even on the very same street. The opening of rival taverns had become so prevalent that a number of the veteran owners had come to an agreement to deliberately sabotage any newly built drinking hubs, arson had seen a very sudden rise and bands of orc mercenaries were usually seen around the same time.
The Tempered Mare was one of the only brothels that was situated on the docks. It's Madame had long discovered the key to achieving prolonged success -- a roster of the most desirable women in the city. Any tavern could stock up with the strongest liquors and the most powerful gins, but none possessed anything to distinguish them enough from the competition.
From what Clara had derived from the tidbits of information she could find, Madame Kadjia was a formidable woman in her own right. The best part of her early twenties were spent plying her trade as one of the many ladies of the Hichin night, walking the cold streets in search of paying clients. Eventually, she managed to put away enough coin to purchase one of the many abandoned buildings on the docks, renovating it into her place of business. It was a serendipitous that the dock lands would experience a boom in trade, in thanks to the ending of centuries old trade embargoes with the neighbouring cities.
Madame Kadjia knew that hiring the most attractive women available outside of the city central would set her far above her competition. She had spent years poaching working girls with the promise of better pay and improved standards compared to what their previous employers had offered them. Any fresh face desperate enough to sell her body knew to pay a visit to Kadja if she didn't want to end up in the hands of a pimp or worse -- slavers. Years of cultivating an enviable roster had either put the competing brothels out of business or scared would-be brothel owners away from the docks altogether.
Clara steeled herself as she twisted the brass knob on the freshly painted wooden door. The second she entered her senses were overwhelmed by the exuberant feeling inside. Tobacco smoke and liquor created a pungent smell, offset by an exquisite perfume that hung in the air that Clara couldn't quite place. Patrons were gathered in secluded booths covering the sides of the main floor, some were personally attended by, what Clara assumed, were the famed Mares. A wide stage sat at the far end, framed by a set of velvet curtains on either side, a trio of steps led up to the polished wooden surface of the stage.
Before being able to completely take in the spectacle around her, Clara felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned and was greeted by a tall, buxom redheaded woman dressed in a blood red gown that was a near spot on match for her eye catching hair. The woman looked down at Clara with a kind expression.
"Welcome to The Tempered Mare, might I ask the reason for your presence?" the redhead asked in a husky, yet friendly manner.
"Me? Oh, I was just looking for Madame..." Clara replied, desperately trying to recollect the name of the woman she seeked.
"Madame Kadjia?" the redhead asked.
Clara smiled gratefully. "Yes. I was trying to find her, hoping she would still be searching for any new girls."
"Ah," the redhead nodded, "hoping to become a Mare? Well, you've certainly got the physique the Madame looks out for in potential working girls. Come, I'll take you to her office."
"Thank you," Carla replied in a near whisper, following the woman through the main client area.
"Quite alright. My name is Scarlett," the redhead grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth, a rare sight on a dock full of poor diets and severe tobacco use.
"Clara," she said, following Scarlett through to the back area. "You have a beautiful name."
Scarlett laughed melodically. "It isn't my real name. Every girl who comes through here chooses their own name, a persona to keep the customers at a safe distance. Believe me, the last thing we want is for a brigand to become attached enough to try and track one of us down."
They skipped up a narrow flight of stairs which were covered by a deep purple carpet, muffling their steps. Just off of the landing was an ornate iron-bound door, painted to match the carpet. A small carving near the top labelled it simply as 'The Madame's Boudoir.'
Scarlett gave it a quiet, but rhythmic knock.
"Enter," an authoritative voice commanded from within.
As she opened the door, Scarlett could see the look of nervousness on Clara's pale face. She offered the younger girl a comforting smile, reminded of her first time standing before the imposing door.
Clara stepped inside and was met with a myriad of exotic sights. Expensive, handcrafted furniture was almost expertly placed around the room, a patterned rug that she could only assume had been imported from Bisher, paintings of the various women that had served time at the brothel.
But none of that compared to Madame Kadjia herself. She was a woman of striking beauty, bark brunette hair that swept access her shoulders, piercing hazel eyes that appeared to scrutinise everything they could see. As the Madame looked up, Clara could see an expression usually worn by a governess, a look of scolding bringing back the memory of being caught watching the farm hand her family hired during the summer by her mother.
"Might I ask who you are?" Madame Kadjia inquired, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
Clara straightened up, an impulse from being subjected to the Madame's piercing gaze. "I've heard about this establishment all the way from my home in the farmlands. My family needs the income if they are to keep possession of the land and women in the city don't have many options for employment. I wish to know if you would accept me as one of your working girls."
Madame Kadjia, reclined in her plush leather chair. "Scarlett, would you be kind of us to give us some privacy?"
Scarlett nodded, brushing her hand against Clara's arm in a reassuring manner as she departed.
"Are you fully aware of the requirements this work demands?" Madame Kadjia asked.
Clara let out a small, shaky breath. She had over heard many stories from men in the village local to her farm, boasting about the various sexual acts they had paid for when visiting the city. Though, she had only heard fragments, some of the things they recalled to each other made her blush heavily, forcing her to quickly leave.
