The Brothel
April 13, 1885
The Great Library of Tarant, Late at Night
The end of the week has come, and tomorrow the weekend begins. The University will be closed, and I will not have my usual combat lessons. I’m afraid I haven’t accomplished very much my first week in Tarant. I have spoken to every professor of medicine I could find at the University, and I have approached several doctors, and I am no closer to my goal then when I arrived in Tarant five days ago. Meanwhile, my funds are dwindling. I made a bit of money today, but they still won’t last another week, and I have no prospects for work. I am not sure what to do next.
This morning began with my usual trip to the police station for combat training. I hesitate to admit this, but I have been greatly enjoying these daily lessons. No matter how discouraged I am when I wake up in the morning, I always feel better after spending an hour or two whacking my instructor with a great big stick. Combat practice is a perfect avenue for venting ones frustrations, and I have oh so many frustrations to vent. My instructor doesn’t talk to me very much. I couldn’t call him polite, but he is not rude any more either. He sticks to the business at hand, and I suppose I am satisfied with that. This morning he told me, with what sounded like a hint of grudging respect, that I am strong, fast, and an aggressive combatant, and that with experience and further training I would make an excellent fighter. That’s not at all what I had in mind when I came to Tarant, but I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised; orcs were bred to be a warrior race, after all. I shall really miss having my lessons this weekend.
I had a most pleasant surprise after my lesson was done. As I made ready to go back to the inn, my trainer gave me a package and told me it was from Captain Fitzwater. Inside was that broken camera Virgil and I had salvaged from the wreck of the Zephyr, together with a note:
“Dear Miss Vorak:
I should like to thank you for your thoughtfulness and generosity in recovering so many of the possessions of those who perished in the crash of the Zephyr. We have been able to return almost all of them to the families of the deceased, and it meant a lot to them to have something to remember their lost ones by.
Sincerely,
Captain Fitzwater
P.S. This camera belonged to a gentleman with no surviving family, and no one has come to claim it. I see no reason why you should not have it.”
Needless to say, I was very moved. I believe that Captain Fitzwater is the only man I’ve met in all of Tarant who has treated me decently. Even broken, the camera ought to be worth at least a few coins. Still, the thought behind Captain Fitzwater’s gesture meant far more to me than the camera itself, and I don’t really have the heart to sell it just now.
After breakfast, I decided to go once again to the University. I couldn’t think of what else to do. I thought that I might find some new professor, or perhaps some professor there was not as bad as he had seemed. I even toyed with the idea of speaking with Professor Marlin again, trying one more time to get him to just listen to me.
As I walked through the park towards the University, I noticed several small groups of people talking together animatedly. They looked serious, and the atmosphere was tense. I was about to approach someone and ask what was happening, but thought better of it and settled on eavesdropping from a distance. It turned out some half-orc had brought a bunch of orcs to the park to protest their unfair treatment in the factories! Of course the people were very angry. They said it was outrageous that the orcs had dared to come to Kensington Park of all places, that it was the half-breed’s fault for inciting them, and that orcs and half-orcs should be taught their place and that the guard should do something about this. I pulled the brim of my hat down low, and walked quickly to the University.
In the end I didn’t try to find Professor Marlin; I didn’t speak to any other professors either. I didn’t have the heart to do so. I kept imagining that they were watching me from within their offices, laughing at me as I walked down the halls. Who knows, perhaps they were. I wound up spending most of my time talking to Professor Buxington again. He still insults me, but I don’t think his heart is in it. As an elf he can hardly be polite to me, but it took only a tiny push before we were deeply engrossed in yet another conversation about the ancient gods of Arcanum. He even gave me a copy of his book.
It was around noon while I was talking with Professor Buxington when I heard the sound of automatic gunfire in the distance. Professor Buxington didn’t seem to notice, so I did my best to ignore it. But afterwards I went to the museum to ask Catherine if she knew what had happened.
“Clarisse, thank goodness you’re here,” she said. “Have you heard about the orcish demonstrations in the park? There’s been shooting. Probably the guard shooting at orcs but it doesn’t matter. People are angry, and it’s not safe for us to be walking the streets. I’ve got a human friend who’s walking home with me. You should do the same if you can. And whatever you do, stay away from Kensington Park.”
I wasn’t too worried. With my hat and scarf I can pretty much pass for human as long as I can keep my distance and not talk to anyone. Still, it wouldn’t do to be reckless. Avoiding the park meant going many blocks out of my way, and I wound up going through the warehouse district of Tarant. As long as I was there, I took the time to familiarize myself with the area. I found a junk dealer near the docks, a gypsy wagon, a fortuneteller, and a few other interesting landmarks.
I came across a three-story building that looked out of place among the warehouses. It looked like an apartment building or a business of some sort. Curtains blocked the windows on the ground floor, and there was no indication of the building’s purpose save for a leaflet tacked up that read, “Temporary Work available of a delicate nature for a gentleman or gentlelady. Must be Discreet. Inquire within.” Well, I wasn’t sure if I qualified as a gentlelady, but it was worth a try.
As I walked through the door into a large room, two well-dressed gentlemen who had been talking together abruptly fell silent and looked at me nervously before looking away. I wasn’t used to that reaction. Anger, loathing, contempt, disdain, yes, but never fear. I averted my eyes from them and walked into the room. As I looked around, I became more and more confused. The floor was covered in plush luxuriant bright red carpeting, and the walls were adorned with lovely paintings. What sort of establishment was this? And what was it doing in the warehouse district? Two ladies came down from upstairs chatting and laughing. They wore bright frilly clothing that was more revealing than I thought was strictly proper. Naive girl that I am, it took me a minute before I realized I had wandered into a brothel. I was about to wander straight out again, but a well-dressed matronly lady came and addressed me very politely. By now I am easily persuaded by people who talk to me politely.
“Hello, miss, can I help you?” she said.
I was terribly flustered and I spoke very quickly: “I, uhm, that is to say, I’m a bit lost. That is, I saw the sign outside that you were looking for work, I mean that you were looking for someone to do work, but I don’t think I can do the sort of work that you are doing here. I mean, I see that I’ve made a mistake so I’ll be going now.”
The matronly lady was laughing. “Calm down, girl! I’m not going to bite your head off. My goodness, you’ve turned red as a strawberry! I never thought I’d meet a half-orc who was such a prim and proper lady. Yes, I do have work, and don’t worry; I can see you’re not interested in being one of my girls. Why don’t you come into my office, you’re making those poor gentlemen nervous. Believe me, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
So we went upstairs to her office. Actually, it looked more like her bedroom, but there was a desk there with ledgers, so I suppose that is where she ran her business. “My name is Madame Lil, and I am the owner of this establishment. And you are?”
“I’m Clarisse Vorak, madam. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She laughed again, a rather deep throaty laugh. “You know, as the madame of the local whore house, I’m not used to being spoken to so politely by such a proper young gentlelady. I suppose you’re not used to being addressed politely by gentlefolk either. It must be very difficult for you here. What are you doing in Tarant?”
“I’m looking to be apprenticed as a doctor, madam. I was apprenticed for over three years in a city far from here before, ...before I had to leave. Before they discovered what I was. I thought things would be different here, but so far it has been...” My voice caught, and I swallowed, “...difficult.”
Madame Lil nodded sympathetically. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” she said. “I do hope you succeed. I do have a little work for you, if you’re interested. I have several tasks that need to be performed by a gentleman or gentlelady who is obviously unaffiliated with this establishment. One of my girls left a rather expensive necklace at a client’s house that must be retrieved immediately. And there is a client who must be reminded, gently but firmly, that he is behind in his payments; you’d be perfect for that. There are a few other small errands. So, are you interested?”
“Yes, madam, though I don’t know that most people would view me as a gentlelady.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. You’re well-dressed and well-spoken. Besides, with that hat and that scarf, you look almost human. I suppose that’s why you wear them, isn’t it?”
The tasks were easy enough. The rather expensive necklace had been left at the house of a wealthy couple. A maid had discovered the missing necklace, and she agreed to give it to me in exchange for a portion of the reward for its return. The client who was behind in his bills turned out to be the doorman at the Bridesdale Inn where I was staying. The man had insulted me several times since my arrival in Tarant. He was horrified to learn that I was aware of his visits to Madame Lil’s establishment, and he promised to pay what he owed immediately. I enjoyed that far more than I should have.
My chores done, I returned to the brothel to receive my payment. Madame Lil was quite gracious towards me. I cannot get over the fact that the madame of a brothel treats me with more dignity than the learned professors of the University. I am not sure what to make of her, or her “establishment.” She seems to genuinely care for her girls, and perhaps overall she is doing some good. Still, I am not sure. On my last visit to the brothel I saw something that troubles me even now.
It happened as I was collecting my payment from Madame Lil and getting ready to leave. A girl walked in carrying an envelope. “Just leave the money on the table, Cassie,” Madame Lil said. “I’ll take care of it in a minute.”
I turned my head to get a better look at Cassie, and was astonished at what I saw. She had bushy eyebrows, a somewhat pronounced set of incisors, and unusually thick and rough fingernails. The sleeveless dress she wore revealed a slightly more muscular build than was normal for a girl her age. She was young and the cues were subtle, but I knew I was not mistaken. Madame Lil called out, “Betty should have left her appointment book for me behind the main desk. Do fetch it for me, Cassie.”
“Yes, madam,” she said.
As she exited, I turned back to Madame Lil and asked her, “That girl. Who was she?”
“That’s Cassie; she’s new. Yes, she has orcish blood in her, just like you. She’s a nice enough girl, but she does have a temper.”
“Oh,” I said. “You have half-orc clients, then?”
“Certainly not!” said Madame Lil. “It would be a scandal. Besides, they couldn’t afford my establishment. This is a place for gentlemen.”
“But then...”
“Oh Clarisse, you’re such an innocent! Let’s just say that the gentlemen of this city have diverse tastes.” Here she smiled in a way that made my stomach turn. “I do my best to meet all of their demands.”
As I left Madame Lil’s office and walked down the staircase, I passed Cassie coming back up from below. She averted her eyes as we crossed and climbed past me quickly. I turned around and called out after her, “Excuse me, miss.”
She turned reluctantly and faced me. “Yes?”
I smiled, trying to reassure her. “I’m sorry, it’s just, nice to meet someone like myself. My name is Clarisse Vorak.”
“Is there something you want?” she asked.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out. “I mean, you’re rather young, aren’t you?”
She looked down and blushed; I could tell she was angry with me. “Oh no, miss. I’m 20 years old.” That was an obvious lie. She couldn't have been more than 16; the signs of her orcish blood were only just beginning to appear. “May I go now, miss?” she said.
“Of course.” I said. I watched her as she walked back up the stairs. I hesitated, but there was nothing I could do. So I turned, walked down the stairs, and left.
It was cold, the streets were dark in the warehouse district, and there were few people out. No one bothered me as I walked towards the library. I decided to...
Oh my, I can’t even think about her now without crying, can I? What kind of a life is that for such a young girl?
Oh, damn them.
Damn them!
Damn them, damn them, damn them, damn them, damn them!
They will not teach us. They will not speak to us. They will not treat us with any shred of dignity. But it appears that some of the gentlemen of Tarant are more than happy to lie with us. God damn them all to hell!
