Ciera smiled to herself as she launched into the final part of her routine - the crowd was appreciative, standing and clapping as she balanced elegantly on her arms on the stool, with her body curved backwards over her head and her long legs held motionless. The feat was easier than it looked but, as the finale of her act, always impressed.
After holding the pose for a full minute Ciera finally relaxed and let herself uncurl, bowing as the applause rose to a new height. She pushed through the rough crowd to the bar where the innkeeper shot a smile at her as he slid over tot of rum. Winking in return, she turned her back to the counter and leaned casually against it as she drained the cup in one gulp.
"See Al" she said to her friend who was perched nervously on a barstool next to her. "I told you everything'd turn out well. Here we are, away from Ilizmagorti at last, and with money in our pockets! And its your birthday tomorrow. We should celebrate! I'm going to mingle and see what's happening around town. Don't move.
She weaved her way through the crowd and smiled at a young man sitting at a table with some other sailors.He was handsome. Older than herself at something in the order of 20 years, and well-built with chocolate-brown eyes and a cute smile. Just because she was a 'boy' didn't mean she couldn't talk to him, did it? Pulling up a chair she accepted congratulations for her performance. And another tot of rum! They were so nice here. Nothing to worry about!
Despite her young age Ciera was well-used to drink, and to rough bars. She had, after-all, been performing in such places since she was five and now, thirteen years of experience later, she didn't really feel at home without a strong smell of stale beer, saltwater and sweat in the air. True, this was the first time she'd performed alone since leaving Brag, the athletic trainer at the Nymphaleum, but that just meant that she'd get to keep all of her takings, rather than give the lion's share to the muscled bruiser who 'protected' her from the thugs, pimps, pickpockets, rapists and press-gangers who he claimed hid around every corner of every street. Maybe she could finally even meet a boy at last.
She wasn't stupid. Since leaving the 'players' she'd hopped a ship with her friend Allysen - another boyish girl with whome she had used to hang around the docks and cause trouble. She'd done well as a 'cabinboy' and lookout - her acrobatic training had been useful in getting about in the rigging. They had ended up here, at the strangely named Formidably Maid. And they'd taken precautions. She was proud of their disguises - a simple haircut, binding around their chests and slightly loose clothes were all that was required for either to pass as a boy. - It was depressing really. She was never going to make the sort of money that the silk dancers made, not with her flat chest and lack of hips anyway. "A good figure for an acrobat" is how Brag had described her in his kinder moments "Flat as a millpond" was what he'd said more often. In any case, the disguise would do for now - boys had an easier time of it on the docks. Why yes, Ciera and Allysen could look after themselves!
She took another shot of rum. Hadn't she already drained it? No, it was full now so she couldn't have. She laughed out loud, at,.. something, drawing stares from a few of the patrons. She felt,... strange. Lightheaded. Unsteady. Turning to the young man next to her,.. Harlen? Had she been talking about something? That story of the press-ganged sailor? That was a funny one! She grinned over at Allysen and went to stand up. The room was spinning strangely and her knees seemed to buckle. She slumped against Harlen unsteadily, and looked up into his big eyes,.
"You're pretty" she slurred as she slumped further forwards and everything went dark.
