a_libertine
Literotica Guru
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Closed for tulipsonanorgan
Lukas walked along the road that led to Silverymoon from Waterdeep. It had been a long haul, trolls, orcs, and barbarians once or twice all tried to foil his path. It wasn't a hard path to follow, Shaundakul always seemed to be able to put the wind firmly between your shoulder blades and pushed you along.
Entering the southwest gate, called Blacklar Gate, Lukas made his way across the river and into the city proper. As he crossed the translucent force bridge, the wind shifted slightly to the north west.
Following the wind, Lukas felt it die off at the inn called, Wayward House. Stepping in, his short frame glided across the nearly empty establishment. A waitress came up asking, "May I help you sir?"
Lukas looked up at the woman, astonished at the height that some people could attain. His paltry height of 5'5" afforded Lukas the opportunity to look up at most of the world. "Yes," Lukas responded with a warm smile, "I'll take a drink, a bath, a drink, a meal, a drink, a bath, and then a drink and a room please."
The waitress smiled, and said, "Ale to start?"
Lukas shook his head and muttered, "Fire Water and then ale, if you please."
The waitress looked down a smile splitting her face and teased, "So that is actually, a drink, a drink, a bath, a drink, and whatever else?"
Lukas smiled and replied, "Aye, I guess that it is."
An hour later, Lukas was in the portion of the list that comprised of the meal, amended to have a drink with it when the door banged open. Glancing up Lukas saw an elven woman coming into the inn.
Short for an elf, she carried their traditional thin frame in an evocative manner. Her raven hair was wound in a tight braid that reached her hips, and perhaps a little below. Lukas was positive, if un-braided, it would fall to her knees. Her hair seemed to shimmer in the light with a green highlight, the color of a fresh shoot on a bush. Her eyes burned like the golden sun, casting light where ever she looked, roasting alive those who caught her glance for more than a moment.
Around her neck lay a piece of silk with a pendent or clasp that lay flat against her fair skin. Her breasts and hips both were clad in the same silken fabric as the necklace, the blouse no wider than a hand span, the skirt slit along each leg, her thighs flashing out with each step.
She carried two bejeweled daggers, one on her hip the other strapped to her calf. Lukas caught himself staring a moment too late. Her golden eyes had found his, and with a blush, he muttered, "Err, sorry."
Lukas walked along the road that led to Silverymoon from Waterdeep. It had been a long haul, trolls, orcs, and barbarians once or twice all tried to foil his path. It wasn't a hard path to follow, Shaundakul always seemed to be able to put the wind firmly between your shoulder blades and pushed you along.
Entering the southwest gate, called Blacklar Gate, Lukas made his way across the river and into the city proper. As he crossed the translucent force bridge, the wind shifted slightly to the north west.
Following the wind, Lukas felt it die off at the inn called, Wayward House. Stepping in, his short frame glided across the nearly empty establishment. A waitress came up asking, "May I help you sir?"
Lukas looked up at the woman, astonished at the height that some people could attain. His paltry height of 5'5" afforded Lukas the opportunity to look up at most of the world. "Yes," Lukas responded with a warm smile, "I'll take a drink, a bath, a drink, a meal, a drink, a bath, and then a drink and a room please."
The waitress smiled, and said, "Ale to start?"
Lukas shook his head and muttered, "Fire Water and then ale, if you please."
The waitress looked down a smile splitting her face and teased, "So that is actually, a drink, a drink, a bath, a drink, and whatever else?"
Lukas smiled and replied, "Aye, I guess that it is."
An hour later, Lukas was in the portion of the list that comprised of the meal, amended to have a drink with it when the door banged open. Glancing up Lukas saw an elven woman coming into the inn.
Short for an elf, she carried their traditional thin frame in an evocative manner. Her raven hair was wound in a tight braid that reached her hips, and perhaps a little below. Lukas was positive, if un-braided, it would fall to her knees. Her hair seemed to shimmer in the light with a green highlight, the color of a fresh shoot on a bush. Her eyes burned like the golden sun, casting light where ever she looked, roasting alive those who caught her glance for more than a moment.
Around her neck lay a piece of silk with a pendent or clasp that lay flat against her fair skin. Her breasts and hips both were clad in the same silken fabric as the necklace, the blouse no wider than a hand span, the skirt slit along each leg, her thighs flashing out with each step.
She carried two bejeweled daggers, one on her hip the other strapped to her calf. Lukas caught himself staring a moment too late. Her golden eyes had found his, and with a blush, he muttered, "Err, sorry."