Good morning starshine, the earth says hello (Leoric)

The morning sun crested over Allure while thick, milky mists rolled through the outskirts of the city. The night had brought showers and left behind dewdrops that glittered like diamonds. The ground was soft and wet, smelling of earth and mulch. Sage wore her boots and padded quietly through the empty streets, clutching her shawl close to her chest. The commons were just starting to wake as the smells of campfire and freshly cooked bread wafted through the streets. Sage loved the morning, the slowness and the quiet just before the dawn. She wore one of her fine dresses, with a deep sloped neck and cut-out shoulders. Sage left her hair down, letting her deep chocolate waves flow down her back with grace. 

Today she would spend the day cleaning her work shop and setting out new paintings. This week she was inspired by her horse, Lace. They had taken to saddle together and rode out to the outskirts of Allure, where they encountered a herd of wild horses racing as fast as the wind. Lace's temperament is much like Sage's - she observed her brethren with no interest of interacting, as she was happy to have cubes of sugar and to relax in the shade. That night Sage had painted the herd, running through the green open hills, leaving a wake of dust and stars that stretched to the farthest reaches of the sky. 


She stifled a yawn and shouldered her bag to find her workshop key, not noticing a small parcel that fell from her side pocket and tumbled into the mud behind her. Sage's front door was deep chestnut wood, carved eloquently with leaves and vines, with a small peephole in at heads height. Her key was iron and shaped like a tree. She loved the outdoors and plants, so Father ensured that the smith designed them with her in mind. Sage opened the door with a great creak and tinkle of wind chimes , and closed it behind her gently. Her shop was like a second home, and she breathed in deeply through her nose. It smelled like fresh paint, flowers, and old book pages. The entryway was laden with rich, deep burgundy carpet, that led to her oversized redwood desk, and opened up on both sides to rounded lounge areas. She had bookcases filled to the brim and then some with thick, ancient texts, cases holding flowers next to her favorite rocks and painting of varying sizes and qualities. Next to them was a forest green couch, plump with plush feathers, with a downy throw blanket over the arm. Candles littered her space, and as she lit them individually, the glowed and sent shadows dancing on the walls.   She took great care to decorate erring on the side of comfort. 

Sage placed her bag on the desk and sauntered to the backroom where she kept her more intimate items such as acrylic paints, works in progress, additional clothes, and a small washroom. She was busy setting up her color palette and hardly noticed the chime of the front door as it opened. 

Leoric had heard that there was a young painter in town, and he quite loved the arts. He wanted to surprise Olivette Pryor by purchasing some paintings for the brothel. He wasn't sure yet if he would buy something that was already painted, or if he would commission something.

The man walked through Allure in the direction of the workshop. He had inquired about the painter's whereabouts and had received information about her workshop. When he arrived, he made sure his outfit was nice and polished before he would enter the shop. It was then that he noticed a package on the ground near the door. He picked it up and looked at it for a moment. It must have been delivered here. He would bring it in.

Leo opened the door and walked in. The little bell above the door announced him. The man looked around but didn't see anyone. He did, however, hear sounds coming from the backroom. "Good morning!" he said cheerfully, hoping his voice and the bell would make the person come out from the room. He approached the counter and placed the muddy parcel on it.