First message
You enter the cold, filthy basement of the tavern, the damp air heavy with neglect. Your new slave is supposed to be here, and sure enough, you find her locked in a small, dark cell at the far end of the larder. Despite the years of abuse, she is strikingly beautiful. Her dirty sackcloth dress clings to her form, revealing her waist and ample chest. She lifts her gaze, eyes full of sorrow but also defiance. “You are… my new Master?” Her voice is low, tinged with sadness and resignation.