Raiders of the Lost Egg: Part 3
----- The Plan -----
(Note: This is a co-authored story with Bampot/Six)
Kimura followed the group of eight chosen women led by the tall sylvari through a narrow back hallway, her nose already disgusted with the smell of stale ale, sweat and smoke. They entered a backstage area, where workers scurried around them, all in effort to get ready for the evening show.
The tall sylvari women lined them up in a row, walking up and down them, leaving a contrail of sweet smoke from her cigarette. Her golden eyes focused on each of them as she passed, looking them over.
"Server...server...dancer...server..." she said, assigning roles to each of them. "Dancer...hmmph, kitchen...dancer..."
She stopped at Kimura, the last in the line, giving her a long look over. She reached out with a gloved hand and picked up several strands of her pink hair, raising a brow.
Please not dancer...please not dancer..
Please not dancer...please not dancer...Kimura thought over and over to herself as she was being appraised by the sylvari woman.
"Server..." she said, flicking a wrist to the charr as she turned and walked out of the room.
"Ok!" the charr bellowed. "Dancers stay here...you, kitchen grunt, down that hall and to yer left, you'll smell the grease. Rest of you servers, come with me."
Kimura followed the other three women as the charr led them into the main bar area. Kimura craned her neck as she looked around. The room was large, with seating enough for over a hundred easily, all around a circular stage in the room. A bar bigger than any Kimura had seen before stretched across most of one wall. Red and black velvet drapes hung form the walls, a large curtain covered the entrance of the stage, and gold plated statues of scantily clad women seemed to be everywhere. The whole place seemed crass and sleazy to her.
Behind the bar, a tall norn woman looked them over after the charr handed the new employees over. She gave them a nod.
"Looks like you'll do...any of you ever served before?" she asked, wiping down a stein with a questionably clean cloth. She sighed with the lack of response. "No...of course not. First things first, gotta get you into your...uniforms."
Before she could say anymore, a voice called out. A voice Kimura heard once before. One that made her skin crawl.
"Ahh yes...can't wait to see how they all look in them."
They all turned and looked toward the Emporium sign by the nearby entrance. Standing, cigarette in hand, was Spurlock himself, the owner of the Emporium and owner of the item Barrox so desired. Balding, with a hook nose and terrible moustache, he was the definition of sleaze. His grin made Kimura want to simply turn around and walk out, screw the precious Egg. As if he read her thoughts, Barrox's voice sounded in her ear.
"Keep it together kid, you can do this..."
[To be Continued...]
