Toppled

Flowsand came to look for Richard punctually every day after dinner. The combat techniques of the Church of the Eternal Dragon were actually full of mysteries, a few basic postures linking together to form endless changes. This was a true technique that was not based purely upon one’s strength. Of course there was no way for a level 1 cleric to defeat a saint, but between two people of the same level and class these techniques would definitely help one survive.

Richard found that even with the secret swords of Silvermoon, his fighting technique lost out to Flowsand. He was not a match for her in an unarmed melee. Flowsand’s body was essentially perfect, her great flexibility making every contact a wonderful pleasure. Over the several hours that they would fight, they ended up in all sorts of positions. Before, this would have led to a bout of intense sex. However, Richard had been training with her for an entire week but not touched her once.

The thorn in his heart would just not fade.

However, Flowsand was just unwilling to explain. Even if Richard occasionally slapped her rear, she still let it go. Eventually, he just ended up going quiet. Elena’s arrogance had been bred into his very bones; he would not ask again and again.

Bluewater hadn’t been quiet in all this time...