Uther never took to the idea of Arisa traipsing around the tavern in that frilly blouse. He bought it long ago on a whim, when his cheeks still blushed at the mere sight of her smile and he'd spend anything to make her keep smiling. But a week in that dress quickly soured him of the idea, when he noticed the small bruises on Arisa's thighs every time she came back into the kitchen from her rounds as a waitress. Her current gown, clean and modest, made him feel much better about preventing perverts sneaking a pinch up her thighs.<br/><br/>Then again that was long time ago, and surely he'd forgotten! And besides, it's not like Arisa could ever hope to fit in that tiny thing at her age, he once joked while drunk and fumbling all over her breasts (before roundly passing out a top her). But he couldn't say no if she wore it<em>just</em>for him, especially not when it wouldn't stay on for long when she showed him!<br/><br/>Arisa heard the light patter of feet flee when she left the storage room, but did not see who it was. Another slacker maybe, or the same one that caught Uther on his way out. Whoever it was, the curtains of the kitchen at the end of the hall still fluttered in her wake. But if she didn't have time then to twist someone's ear and give them a talking-to, Arisa still had much to do to help open up their tavern - her<em>temple</em>. Someone needed to go knock on the drunks who fell asleep at their tables last night, as well as make the rounds upstairs and call any guests to start getting dressed. Breakfast would be served soon, and afterwards anyone caught oversleeping would have to deal with her!<br/><br/>Arisa could let one of the girls handle it, however, if she wanted to hole up in her room for a bit and reminisce over the good old days while tending to her gear and priestess robes. As much as Uther might reassure otherwise, the rumors of strange happenings in and around town only continued to grow.