29th of Spring, 519 AV
Dev’Ania brushed past the tables of people as she returned to the bar. Tonight, like most other nights, was quite busy at the Scholar’s Demise. Dev tiredly slouched onto the bartop with a thud, panting to catch her breath. Since getting to work, she had been on her feet the entire time, going from the bar to the tables.
“Only a little longer to go,” Dev said to herself as she stood straight. She grabbed a platter of bread and cheese and began walking it over to the table who ordered it. The man who ordered the food - a mid-aged man on the more heavier side - sat, showing his impatience by the pout on his face and the shaking of his head.
“It took you long enough.” The man clearly had one too many drinks today. The Konti rolled her eyes in annoyance, trying to cover it up. Just as she began to walk away, he called back. “And I’ll have another pitcher of ale.”
She looked at the man as if to say ‘no’, but could only manage to give a nod and walk away. Hurrying back to the bar, she requested the man’s order. “Can I have a pitcher of ale for the man in the back, please.”
The blonde woman took a seat on an empty stool and threw her head into her arms. Tired was not the word to describe what she felt. Since late last night, she had been working non-stop. She performed until her voice needed to rest. Now, she waited tables and cleaned to give her voice a break, not wanting to lose it. Yet, although she didn't lose her voice, she felt like she was losing her mind. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the troublesome drunks. Whatever it was, she was just waiting to leave. She had only been here so long because the other barmaid had not shown up.
Aleah fulfilled Dev’s request before moving on to the next. Dev’Ania brought the pitcher over to the drunken man, trying to be extra careful in not spilling any with all the people dancing to the lutist playing.
Arriving at the man’s table, she began to place the pitcher on the table when -
“You bloody whore!” Her efforts had failed. A dancing patron had unintentionally bumped into her, causing ale to splash onto the drunk man. “What a fool you are! Look at what you have done!” The now standing man was furious. He was only a few inches taller than Dev’Ania but was still a bit intimidating to her.
“I'm - I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident.” Dev’s apologies to the man didn’t seem to be working. As he got closer and closer, Dev back away.
“Ah, yeah? Well, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t spilled that ale on me!”
The blood rushing through Dev'Ania's veins had begun to boil. She could feel the build up of tears forming in her eyes as she tried to hold them back. She didn't want to cry in front of this man. That would just make the situation worst. So she continued to take the insults of the drunk.
“Only a little longer to go,” Dev said to herself as she stood straight. She grabbed a platter of bread and cheese and began walking it over to the table who ordered it. The man who ordered the food - a mid-aged man on the more heavier side - sat, showing his impatience by the pout on his face and the shaking of his head.
“It took you long enough.” The man clearly had one too many drinks today. The Konti rolled her eyes in annoyance, trying to cover it up. Just as she began to walk away, he called back. “And I’ll have another pitcher of ale.”
She looked at the man as if to say ‘no’, but could only manage to give a nod and walk away. Hurrying back to the bar, she requested the man’s order. “Can I have a pitcher of ale for the man in the back, please.”
The blonde woman took a seat on an empty stool and threw her head into her arms. Tired was not the word to describe what she felt. Since late last night, she had been working non-stop. She performed until her voice needed to rest. Now, she waited tables and cleaned to give her voice a break, not wanting to lose it. Yet, although she didn't lose her voice, she felt like she was losing her mind. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the troublesome drunks. Whatever it was, she was just waiting to leave. She had only been here so long because the other barmaid had not shown up.
Aleah fulfilled Dev’s request before moving on to the next. Dev’Ania brought the pitcher over to the drunken man, trying to be extra careful in not spilling any with all the people dancing to the lutist playing.
Arriving at the man’s table, she began to place the pitcher on the table when -
“You bloody whore!” Her efforts had failed. A dancing patron had unintentionally bumped into her, causing ale to splash onto the drunk man. “What a fool you are! Look at what you have done!” The now standing man was furious. He was only a few inches taller than Dev’Ania but was still a bit intimidating to her.
“I'm - I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident.” Dev’s apologies to the man didn’t seem to be working. As he got closer and closer, Dev back away.
“Ah, yeah? Well, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t spilled that ale on me!”
The blood rushing through Dev'Ania's veins had begun to boil. She could feel the build up of tears forming in her eyes as she tried to hold them back. She didn't want to cry in front of this man. That would just make the situation worst. So she continued to take the insults of the drunk.