Dorian, the finely dressed man sat in a corner of the tavern, feathered quill in one had elegantly scrawling across a fine white sheet of paper with a smooth fluency. Just as the extravagantly dressed Itotia approached him, he finalised his work with a full stop and gently dropped the quill back in the ink vial.

“Ah, pleasure to meet you.” He kindly said as he stood and gave an elegant bow. “Please forgive the formality, I prefer to leave agreements in words rather than paper but alas I must adjust to the times. Change is one thing that no one can fight off, not forever. I do hope you find the arrangement to your liking.”

He gave her a knowing grin, a warm smile, a caring look. But despite being as pleasant as one could be, he moved through the motions in a fluency like he had done it many times before, or simply knew exactly how everything was going to turn out.

Itotia would find his paper in her hand, it was a contract, and a fairly generous one, despite not being paid in any coins. 
The hours were flexible and all food and accomodation was provided. She could even keep any tips made. In return she only need entertain the guests when the mood was right, be it through song, dance, story or conversation. And she need be willing to cover the bar at times.

Dorian politely awaited until her eyes had scanned the paper then held out a silver key on a small chain. “For your room.” He said, once again invitingly kindly. “You will find your things already there.”