The part Veri was to play was of a young Nord woman named Ilona who was born to a barmaiden and a drunkard, who had left home to find a better life, and finding far worse fortune than in the whore house. She returned to the brothel to find it had been brought down in a fire, and she was in town, looking for work as a wench at the Rosy Apple. Veri tied her hair in a long braid flung over her right side, and pulled the dress that was her costume over her now bulked-up frame. It was loose in the bosom area, but Seirye tailored it to fit her.
It truly was a whore's dress; the skirt was ragged around the edges, and reached to just below her knee- for the most part. A huge slit had been cut to her thigh, and the whole thing was decorated with shiny flakes of rock and pretty scraps of cloth tied through rivets here and there. A corset held the skirt together, and curved around the breasts to make them 'pop'. As for the shirt, it hardly covered her, and the linen fabric was worn and almost translucent.
Though it was only just the beginning of Autumn, she shivered in the scanty thing, prompting her to tighten her grip on a poor-man's shawl the had been wrapped around her hip, but had quickly been pulled around her shoulders. She had "commandeered" a horse for the long road ahead, and though it beat walking, both she and the poor thing were saddle sore within two hours. One more and they would be there, but the horse began to grow agitated, giving her a choice between taking a break or being bucked off. She slid off the side of the creamy-white beast and unbuckled the saddle before removing it's champ.
She let it graze and nibble on wild onions as she thought more about her mission- and more about why she had been sent. Suppose she hadn't been raised by Astrid and Arnbjorn; she knew the woman still had some morals. At the very least she would've sent Seirye; she and her husband had no qualms about what her position might call her to. But no, out of all the others, Astrid had Veristek do it. Her realization made her heart skip a beat. What could it mean? What was mother planning? Was she trying to protect her from something? Or was she ridding herself of her in some way?
Could she be separating herself from Veristek, or was she simply showing her was she was expected to do now that she was stronger and older? That made the cold spark of fear in her gut flicker once more. She... She wasn't really old enough to do this sort of thing... Was she? Wouldn't that mean that there were other girls- legitimate prostitutes- her age? An odd thought occurred. If this premonition were true, in a twisted way her unorthodox home and family had shielded her from the horrors of the rest of Skyrim. She had never truly been outside of the the mossy rock walls that had kept her safe.
Not for more than a few days, and certainly not in a town as big as Morthal, though it was far tinier compared to most of the other capitol cities.
She was tired enough from her six day long travel, curiosity for her mission and its implications gnawed at her and prompted her to hurry to her target, yet held her back for a few more minutes to consider everything one more time. When she realized that she was just making herself more timid about her first more... illicit infiltration job, she smacked herself on the tender skin of her forearm and pulled a half-empty bottle of mead from one of the two rough hide bags she had dropped on the ground by her feet. Taking a few swigs and dropping the bottle on the ground, she bit her lips and patted her cheeks until they rouged, which didn't take long in the crisp autumn air.
She threw the bags over her shoulders again, remembering to struggle with them as any other young woman would do, and pushed the door to the inn open with her shoulder. It was only about a few hours until early evening, maybe 3 o'clock, and a few older farmers were scattered around the tables as they lazily sipped their ales. Her jittery stomach was more real than she'd expected as she felt a few milky old eyes look her over with more than a little excitement; a new piece of eye candy while they ordered drinks they couldn't afford.
While she was slowly walking through the tight maze of seats, she was too busy making sure to stay clear of the more feisty oldsters to notice a rough, tan arm grab her elbow. She turned around suddenly and began to reach for the small blade concealed in the strap on her left bag, but when she looked in the man's face she realized he was not quite something to be afraid of; he seemed to be in his late twenties, and had clearly seen some harsher times, but had a look of softness in his deep dark eyes that made her forget to be afraid.
His appearance made him look more out of place still, with almost wine colored hair slung back in a long low ponytail and distinctive tattoos crawling up his arm in some language Veri had yet to behold. The left eye was a blazing dark green, while the right other was a cool amber with a scar not only trailing from his eyebrow to his chin but also on the eye itself, adding a reddish tint the areas immediately next to it. Yet, through the painful scar and hardened battle-worn skin, he was quite handsome in a strong way. But all that Veri had really noticed was his eyes, and his scar, and his lips parting to say "Don't do this to yerself, lass. No sob story's worth whorin' yerself aught."
She teetered on her feet for a moment, processing his warning, and was about to say something; anything, when a large Nord woman with plenty of years and girth to her name cleared her throat and put her hands on her waist. "a-ahem, Liam. I hope your not scaring off another prospective daughter, now are you?", she said with a surprisingly light voice. Veri thought it resembled a goat's nag. The man, Liam, pulled his hand back quickly and raised his mug, politely nodding to the women. "Nah, course' not Hjieda! We're just havin' a chat, s'all. Right, Lass?", he said turning back to Veri. "R-right.", she said, rather confused. "Honestly, I'd toss you out right now, if you didn't give me such good gold for the room and poison!"
"Ah, the more potent, the better the effect, don't you agree?", Liam chuckled as he took a drink out of his mug. "Hjieda here has some o' the best home-brewed ale this side o' Whiterun. Certainly better'n that Blackbriar piss!", he said scowling. "So, what's your name girlie?", Hjieda baahed. "M-My name is Ilona, ma'am.", she said sweetly, bashfully looking down at the floor. "I've come looking for work. Ain't got a penny to my name, nor a relative to take me in. I figured since I was born in to the life, I might as well... Well...", she blushed. "Nice touch.", she thought to herself.
"Aw, come on now dearie! If your going to be one of my girls, you'll have to get used to talking about it! Come on now, let's get you warmed up, and I'll see if you're, ah, qualified." Veri almost looked back at Liam in panic as Hjieda led her to the kitchen.
Veri was mortified. She was mortified, and disgusted, and felt awful. She had no idea that that... that 'test' was common protocol for a brothel to do to let a girl join! When the door to the bathing room began to open, she changed her face from a grimace to a look of hopefulness. "Well, dearie, that wasn't so bad now was it? Well, good news, it wasn't all for naught; congratulations, you start tonight! Let me show you where you'll be staying.", the plump old woman cheerfully declared. Veri swung herself off of the stool she sat on, and followed Hjieda through a hallway to a particular door. "This is where the younger girls stay. You won't be particularly helpin' anybody's backaches, but you will be giving em' a fever!", she giggled.
The dorm was empty except for one other girl out of the four beds laid out. There were three dressers and six mirrors placed around the room. No windows, but plenty of candles placed about. "This will be your bed", she said as she pointed at the bed next the lone girl. "Dinner's in an hour, and three after that you'll be expected to come to the basement with the rest of the girls, all prettied up!", Hjieda shouted as she shut the door behind her with click, which Veri recognized as a lock.
She put her hands on her knees, trying to cover up her body a little. She might have even gotten a little homesick if it weren't for the mead she'd had earlier, and the fact there was another person in there. Not to mention she had begun to get less concerned with all the hidden meanings and 'first time out' blues, and was beginning to become enthralled by the absolute excitement and mystery of it all. She even wondered, just for a second or two, if she'd have a little fun with this particular mission; not by showing off her legs for some skeez, but by stirring up some trouble. And then there was Liam.
