Legends of Belariath

Demetrice

She is a tender age of 18 summers, standing a sultry 5'10', wearing the tattered remains of a peasant skirt, a red garter encircling a well toned left leg. The poor child's bodice looks to be able two sizes too small as it forces her ample bosom upward, threatening to spill forth if not for it's tight lacing. Standard gold slaves cuffs encircling her wrists .. her tender feet trod upon the earth, having outgrown her last pair of shoes. Her chestnut hair trussles wildly about her back and shoulders, the unruly waves framing a delicate, yet hard face. Strange tattoos accent her eyes, drawing attention to the breath taking beauty of their color.

She has no recall of her youth, her first real memory, the gentle touch of the old woman cupping her face - from there her life began: Indebted at a young age to a childless couple who owned a small inn, she was expected to help with chores. Having felt the brutal sting of the Owner's backhand more than once, the motherly touch of the old woman was all that made life bearable.

But alas, the old woman suddenly passed away in Dee's 16th summer & the Inn soon fell on hard times. As the servants were let go, she began having to wait tables too. The crowd began to get rougher and rougher as the Old Man went further into debt. As the thieves & rogues began to gather, the whores started to filter in, renting the rooms upstairs. Many a night Dee sported ugly bruises from the rough gropes & pinches the customers put her through nightly.

One dark man had taken notice of her, he had happened upon this place in his travels and had begun watching her during his stay, his constant stare not going unnoticed by Dee as she tried to work the floor. With his business coming on an inn, the Stranger approached the the InnKeep and began discussing her purchase. A sparkle twinkled in the old man's eye at the generous amount offered for the troublesome girl and eagerly struck a bargain.

The Old Man called her to the bar, his grin widening as she timidly approached them, waiting for her expression to sink in as he told her he had sold her. She slowly began to shake her head in a no fashion but before her protests could slip from her mouth and searing flash ran through her cheek as her head spun to the left, the Rogue had backhanded her as she was to speak. "Never speak to me in protests," he scowled, "Or you will live to regret it .. Now get thee to my room wench" .. and thus began the next awful 2 years of her life. Her body being used to suit his every purpose, even whoring for him when he became short of funds.

But one night the Rogue happened upon the wrong Inn, the Lonely Inn, after running up a very hefty Inn bill, the Rogue lost all his money in a game of chance and was unable to pay for his keep, having to leave behind the slave girl in lieu of his debts.

After fulfilling her term to pay off her debts, she gained her freedom and has since began the pursuit of - who is she?

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