Luck of the Irish
Aoife began a joyful stride through the town with her soap and bucket in tow. She hadn’t the time to bathe in the last few days and was elated by the thought of getting herself clean. Working the bellows for her father’s forge was gruelling and exasperating. It took great strength and endurance to furnish great blasts of air sufficient enough to heat the forge for her father’s work. With the additional orders from the town’s guard and the regular requests by the town’s adventurers. Aoife had scarce time left for anything but the illustrious forge. This day’s morning marked the beginning of what should be a very welcome break in Aoife’s duties.
As Aoife neared the town’s western edge by the river, she encountered Cuhullin. Cuhullin was a tall handsome man. His muscles were toned and large, which gave him an overbearing presence. With shoulder length brown hair, a well trimmed beard and deep blue gleaming eyes. It was easy to see why many women would largesse him with passing glances of yearning intent. Aoife was no exception to this yearning. For not only was Cuhullin handsome, he was a talented warrior and carried an amorevolous nature. As such, Cuhullin had his pick of women and had a favorable preference for those with large breasts. As beautiful as Aoife was, her chest bore an unhappy resemblance to that of a young boy.