The Cathedral bells rung out their hourly missive--the tenth hour that signaled freedom. Anisse threw her wet washrag with such a force that the metal basin behind the bar tinged painfully in reply when it received it. She threw her apron roughly at the bartender as well, in which Jarel baffled at, blinking up at her. He sighed dolefully at the girl and folded the apron neatly into its place behind the bar.
“Don’t you be angry with me now, Miss Anna. If you’d learn a little in the way of good manners, you might get to keep your tips today.”
Anisse tightened her fists at her side, grumbling out her words. “I was perfectly in line today, Mister Moor.” In her ruffled serving shirt and bright blue cotton skirt, she looked as intimidating as a rag doll. Terribly put-out, she folded her arms across her chest as she scowled at Jarel. The bartender stared back at her, and then threw his hands up, making her flinch a bit in his sudden movement.
“You made the new girl cry! Not to mention that you were unbelievably rude to most of our visitors.”
Anisse’s scowl deepened, her heated voice growing higher with each word she spat. “She was annoying, Mister Moor. I don’t think she was even paying attention on the inventory run! And a gnome, sir?! A gnome? She had to hang onto the bar counter just to see over it! A..and even normal people aren’t that stupidly happy! It’s disturbing!”
Silence fell over the remaining people in the tavern. Only two, but, still, the effect of her shouting was intense. She sneered at the people as they stared at her and Jarel, and they quickly looked away to finish their dinner. And snickered.
“And that man was harassing me, I just know it! He followed me and the insipid gnome after we wrapped up the inventory run,” Anisse growled out quietly now. “And you just let him sit there and….and talk to me!”
Jarel chuckled, rolling his eyes at his temperamental waitress. “Oh dear. The man was talking to you? Should I fine him for such an indiscretion?”
Anisse groaned out now. “He was waiting for me to get off my shift. I know it. He wouldn’t leave me alone! It’s…its distracting!” Her eyes narrowed at the bartender as she hissed at him, the amber color almost glowing in her anger. “I’m surprised you didn’t let him pay for the rest of my shift to take me to Lakeshire, like the other damned patron! They’re all absolutely daft!”
Jarel laughed a little louder at the girl now as she seethed on. “Should I have? Ahahaha, Miss Anna…he probably liked you. You are a cute little thing, after all. You ought to relax and just chat them up--its what’s expected of a barmaid. Don‘t you know that by now? That’s how you earn your tips! You don‘t have to sleep with them too, dear girl.”
“…hhh….” Silence flooded the barmaid, terribly unnerved. She might’ve twitched a few times as she skittered to the end of the bar.
“….you aren’t sleeping with our patrons, are you, Miss Anna?”
A fiery ball of ruined inventory lists streaked past Jarel’s head. The makeshift fireball smashed into the cabinets behind him, rattling wooden bowls on their shelves. Ashes flew all over, blanketing Jarel. He gave a helpless chuckle as he watched the girl storm down to the cellars, torchlight flickering after her. The bartender shifted quickly, clamping a metal pot over the fire burning behind him, snuffing it out. The remaining patrons took their leave of the Slaughtered Lamb, rather quickly.
“…good. We’re not…that type of establish..ment…” Jarel coughed out, wiping off papery ash from around his eyes.
Time passed beneath the floors of the Slaughtered Lamb, and Anisse’s churning irritation had passed with it. Even the warlocks quieted their chatter, their mocking laughter no longer flowing from the squeaking pipelines above her. Sometimes they had enlightening conversation on the subject of demonic magic which she drew from, but they melted into vain gossip too often.
She was restless, and the urge to kill whispered around in the folds of her mind. The scalpel tempted her, even from within the recesses of the surgeon’s bag, hidden away. Yet the sneering sounds of the felguard made that possible calm from killing all but drain away. How she hated the demon! She could imagine it now, the vicious demonspawn taking all her delight from her as it would take her kills, ruining the things which she held precious inside of each body. Like some inanely violent child, gleefully tearing up toys just to watch them break.
She wouldn’t give the bastard the chance. Not this time.
And so Anisse lay there on the floor of her dirty, ruined parlor, staring up at the threads of spidery webbing hanging from the stone ceiling. Perhaps counting each strand would lull her into the sleep she needed. As her mind slipped away from the musty smelling catacombs, questioning thoughts came to her--thoughts she hadn‘t considered in a long, long time. Was there more, perhaps, to this life than the Lamb, the impending deaths of others, collecting, and her studies? Was there anything more worth seeking…?
…the last time she had such a “revival”, she joined the Twilight’s Hammer. Look where that’s brought you now…
Sighing outwardly, she ignored the sound of ashy debree rustling as she turned on her side, accepting sleep from the stone cold catacomb floors.
Was there anything more worth her time in this world?
‘Not likely…’ Anisse breathed out sleepily to herself as she found a dreamless sleep.
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