Mia cleans Besnitt’s Bank

i was walking through Besnitt’s city square when i came across The Master of Many Talents, Master Yuroki. i must confess i could not help admiring how handsome His features were, i was drawn like a magnet to his carefully groomed dreadlocks and would have happily sat dreaming over His looks while appearing to be attentively waiting for permission to continue on my way, when i was surprised out of my reverie by His command for me to follow Him.

i was curious, for i knew His tasks were always slightly out of the ordinary. He called me into Besnitt’s Banking office, a place i had never entered before. i casually looked around; one of it’s bare stone walls was decorated with a classic painting while another had a gorean calendar clock quietly ticking away; today was the 5th day of the second hand of the twelfth month of the year 1017. The Master, ever businesslike, ignored my rather obvious curves and ordered me to open a heavy metal door, one whose significance i quickly realised once i had entered and heard it close very firmly behind me.

i was told by Master Yuroki, in a cold, distant voice through the door, “i want you to clean the strong room and the bank, we had to build a lot in the last days and had a lot of customers, everything is dirty”

i had barely heard His words, for my eyes were drawn to a glowing crate at the far end of the room, its contents unmistakably filled with gold. i stood in awe, knowing that as a slave who owned nothing and had no use for coin, i was in a place where many a Free longed to be.

i could see builder’s dust everywhere, and my small nose tickled by it, longed to sneeze. Instead, i picked up a duster and started from the ceiling downwards, not missing the tops of the windows, shifting clouds of dust downward, watching them fall in spirals as i worked my way around the strong room and office.

When finished, i brushed the dust off my slender shoulders, knowing only a bath in the river would remove the dirt which had settled on the tip of my breast, left exposed by my worn, white camisk. i sighed, knowing as a city slavel i had little hope of ever wearing anything but threadbare camisks made of old rep cloth.

i swiftly looked for a broom and started to sweep, humming a familiar song in my head. Before i even realised it, i was dancing around the long handle, my feet skipping over and around its base, while i teased the handle, circling around it before finally giving in and, with my back to its pole, slid up and down it.

i heard it clatter to the ground as i stood up. i realised
no sweeping would get done if i continued to fool around, So, somewhat more soberly, i picked up the broom and continued sweeping until the floor was dust free.

i walked to the well and filled a bucket with water and collected a clean rep cloth from the kennels, then returned to the bank. On my hands and knees, my rounded buttocks heralding my movements around the bank, i scrubbed and cleaned the floor until it sparkled.

i looked around, genuinely pleased with the gleam of polish that was evident throughout the bank. i said a silent prayer to the Priest Kings, thankful that i had been chosen for such a task and that the many brave…and extremely handsome… warriors of Besnitt who protected our Homestone, would remain safe in their battles while doing so.

Finally, i locked the door of the strong room, and firmly closed the door on my way out of the bank, taking my cleaning tools with me. i was hopeful that the Master of Many Talents would be pleased with me.

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