Harlot, whore, prostitute. Those were words that once described
Meillon, she didn't care. She was low in terms of status, but that didn't
cause her to falter. She often gained an audience at her performances,
plenty of coin to survive. The coin along with her wit saw that she was
about to get what she could. And when guards started to attempt to bully
her, she just left. Walking out into the sunlight and making her way to a
tavern. Many were uneasy with her around, as her kind has its own
reputation for being troublemakers. She didn't go along with it.
She stood up on the stage and started to sing. It was a soft, quiet song.
Filled with tragedy of its performer, the song caused many of the patrons to
weep due to the sadness that was. With a swift change of her voice, the
saddening song shifted to a sweet lullaby. Lulling all of the occupants to
a gentle slumber, as the woman's true colors shined. She pulled out her
dagger, a blade she kept close as he went to the men, hacking of parts they
would sorely miss as they lied and slumber, their life fading as their blood
littered the floor. But the women in the tavern were left untouched, she
gave each of them coins of gold, helping them along in their troubles.
She carried the women out, one by one, until they were a safe distance away
from the Tavern before she set it ablaze. She decided then that she would
do what she can, when she felt she should. Whether to intervene or fight,
she would follow her desires. Seeking whatever may come.
