Five years had passed in the blink of an eye, it seemed, from the time that Basilides had first joined the Children of Mnemosyne as the bookkeeper and producer. Each year, he saw the income and expenses rise and fall like the tides of the Aegean, and much like the sinewy acrobats that had found their ways into the ranks of thespians, he performed his own balancing act - how to keep things new and interesting while keeping costs low.
There were expected costs, such as feeding all the members of the troupe and the upkeep of their carts and animals as they moved from province to province across Greece. As always, though, there were the usual expected-unexpected costs along the way. How many times had he bailed brawny and blustery crewmen from the fylaki's across Greece after a night of overindulgence? How many tabs did he have to level with brothels when crew members coinpurses 'mysteriously' disappeared? All of that was coin that could have solidified their coffers, but the more renowned they became, the higher the cost it seemed.
As such, Bas always found himself on the lookout for new and interesting acts and artists to incorporate into the shows. The lifespan of a performer was typically quite short, due to anything from injury to inadvertent pregnancy to sheer exhaustion. It was a revolving sort of position, and as such, whenever the Producer was told there was something he simply had to see, he took it.
In Phossis, he heard, there was a hetaira that was unlike any other - an entrancing performer who caused enough intrigue to bring men from near and far. Even some of the members of the troupe had heard enough of her to convince him it was worth a trip to the tavern where they were. Basilides was not interested in lowering the standards of the troupe to the point of satyr plays and being mistaken for a troupe of prostitutes.
Still, curiosity got the best of him. Along with a few other performers, they piled into the tavern, many of them trying to sit as close to the action as possible. Basilides packed his smoking reed with his medicinal herbs, inhaling it a bit to relieve the come-and-go tightness in his chest.
Before long, his eyes were drawn to the vision of demure woman with powdered features and elaborate dress crossed towards him.
"Pardon me, are you one of the performers?" he asked, forthcoming.
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