A light rain beat a martial tattoo upon the window. Cold gray sky and roiling thunderclouds hovered warningly in the distance. It was early afternoon,...but still bright enough to see by. The acrid scents of turpentine and acrylic mingled with a bouquet of fresh cut flowers and the spicy incense bought from a local Rastafari merchant. Dougray held impatient court before the easel, a brush held in his fingers, like a conductor’s baton that wielded color, not sound. His eyes strayed from picture to. Sizing up her options she nocked an arrow, drawing it back as she stood. The arrow flew from her bow as she felt the deep bite of the metal in her arm and leg.Kerillian collapsed onto the ground, feeling the warp cursed metal leach the strength from her muscles. Her bow fell from her senseless fingers, leaving her with the slight consolation of hearing the gunner’s weapon tear itself to pieces, her arrow having damaged a critical piece of the exposed machinery, followed by the screech of the. It was a really seedy place and the clientele were a pretty rough crowd. Thankfully the bar was fairly empty that night, though the shift had been dragging. That was, until she walked in. The woman was stunning; her beauty took my breath away. She looked really upmarket, dressed in expensive clothes, with long black hair, a sophisticated businesswoman. Planting herself on a stool at the bar she ordered me to serve her in an offhand manner. “Barman a white wine, and make it quick!”. I asked her what was up.She said she was feeling alone since she was no longer with her husband. I asked about it but she brushed it off.I didn't ask further. We chatted for a bit catching up on our time away from each other. While chatting, I noticed what she was wearing a lose overall and from what I could see, there was nothing underneath.That turned me on a little as she was looking sexy in it. I asked her if she could get me some more water. She got up and went to kitchen to get some.
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