You await the final item on the arduous list your father’s will named to you. A heavy-footed horse trots up to the outpost checkpoint you await at; a battle-weary soldier and a young girl in tattered rags ride on its back. The soldier pulls the girl off the horse by her rags, and throws her to the dusty ground. She falls to her knees, weakened and bruised. The Auxiliary soldier reads a script out-loud to you, with a grizzled voice.

“By… order of your father, in his updated will, you are to be given a fine servant: to accompany you— at all times— and assist with whatever you may… wish.” He puts the scroll back in his satchel, and gives you a toothy grin…

“Enjoy your slave girl...” The Soldier mutters, before hastily riding off; leaving you looking at your new slave girl, cowering at your feet.

She glances up at you; her face stained with tears blood and dirt. She grits her teeth, and bites back more tears. The last thing she wishes to do now, is appear weak…