Deciding on where to go

Hurrying out of the alley, Cathy soon found herself on the street in front of “Kallah’s”. Turning to the right, she continued down the street, the cloak concealing her face and body from the eyes of the drunken sailors moving about out there.

Not sure of where to go, Cathy settled for simply moving, walking out of the harbour area and into the merchants’ quarters. Further up ahead was the hill where the “finest” of Tharros lived, while the Kettle and the artisans’ area laid to the left and right of the city’s financial district.

That was Tharros alright, Cathy thought; traders in the middle, flanked by whores and craftsmen, while the nobles sat on their hill and watched the others.
As for the merchants’ quarters, they followed one simple guideline; the closer to the hill you got, the richer the traders living there. The wealthiest of them had even managed to move up on the slopes of the hill, where they did their best to fit in with those who were truly upper class.

The nobles were a breed apart from the merchants, a good deal of them actively hostile to anyone who actually worked for a living. They instead settled for letting advisors and henchmen invest their money in different ventures, themselves focusing wholeheartedly on finding new ways of spending their profits.

Cathy thought of where she should go, and what she should do while in Tharros. She was uncertain as though why she had returned to the city.
No matter what it was that had compelled her to come to Tharros; she would need a place to stay while in town.

Now, Cathy could use the money earned on the engagement at Kallah’s, plus some of her savings, to rent a room and start looking for work.

Also, she probably still had friends in Tharros, people on the same side of the law as her, who could help her to both a place to stay, where she could blend in better than if staying at an inn, and to some good, dishonest work.

Thirdly, Cathy could always try to improve her magic skills. She remembered the rumours about a witch with great knowledge in the fields of magic in which Cathy was proficient, the old woman usually said to be lurking around either in the Kettle, or in the shanty town on the far outskirts of the artisans’ area.

Fourthly and finally, Cathy could support herself by working as a whore. Not one to blow her own trumpet, Cathy however knew that she was about as beautiful and as skilled as any other harlot that she had ever run across, and she had little doubt that she could be highly successful at it, regardless if she worked independently or via a brothel.

While considering her options, Cathy turned round and headed back towards the harbour, seeking out Aldo’s warehouse.

Stepping into the low and wide wooden building, Cathy saw that she was the only customer there, with Aldo leaning back on a chair behind the check-out desk.
Aldo, a thin man in his late fifties who sported a wild-grown, grey beard, couldn’t help but grin as Cathy stepped into his warehouse.

“Cathy! Come to collect our belongings, have we?” Aldo asked, quickly rising from the chair.
“That we have.” Cathy solemnly replied.
“Well, I hate to lose you, girlie.” Aldo said, while limping in between the long rows of shelves where the belongings placed in Aldo’s care were stored.
“Yes, I’m sure that you do.” Cathy saw Aldo do his best to lift her brown duffel bag, the old man finally settling on dragging the heavy container after him.

Cathy smiled as she watched Aldo struggle to lift the duffel bag up onto the desk, finally succeeding in his endeavour, letting out one last groan as he let go of it.
Glancing at the bag was enough for Cathy to determine that it had been opened while in Aldo’s care, the knot holding it together was a different one than the one which she had tied.

“Aldo,” Cathy showed her white teeth to the old man as she dropped a few coins onto the desk, “you haven’t been going through my things, have you?”
“Why, I would never…” Aldo began to stutter out, his face growing red while his gaze was quickly focused on the floor. Even with the list being a well-established formality between the two, Aldo always felt embarrassed when Cathy mentioned his odd “habit”.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cathy teased the embarrassed pervert, “this girl likes the attention. Now, I placed a particularly skimpy thong in there, half-supposing that you would grab it first chance you got. A really miniscule article of clothing, that was. Its string used to disappear up between my cuntlips.”
“Well… uh…” Aldo was playing by his hands by now, constantly turning his head to glance at one floor-plank after the other.
“I suppose you’ve already jerked-off to them, haven’t you?” Cathy grinned at him, “Tell you what; next time, if you don’t take anything from me, I might suck your cock as a reward.
I’m real good at that, sucking cock, you know.”

Aldo didn’t say anything in reply, settling instead on letting out a weak gargle, the old man still feeling highly uncertain of what to do with himself.

As she walked towards the door, Cathy decided that she would give the depraved old bastard one last kick.
Turning around, Cathy cried out “Aldo, watch this!” and undid the knot holding her blouse together.

Aldo looked in danger of suffering a heart attack as he got a first look at Cathy’s large breasts, the old man collapsing onto the chair as Cathy turned around again and left the warehouse.

“Fucking tease…” The old man finally managed to mutter, grinning at the door as it closed.