Shamis Stares dumb foundly at what he sees. Looking around most of the people gone "missing" are hear sharing drink and stories. Shaking his head he stands in a corner making sure it is not a cover and observing the soroundings.


Shamis McCullen

Hate to be ooc on such a good thread ... but Adelia I want those twinkies ... they look delicious ...

<Raelian's combat reflexes quickly kicked in just before he ran into the lass, his hand that held the flaggon moving to a point behind him so he didn't splash the poor lass as his other hand qiuckly wrapped around her waist and kept her from falling over. Looking into Carys eyes he blushed a little and smiled. He gently righted her and removed his arm from her waist, blushing slightly.>

"My apologies m'lady, dinnae see you there"

Since she had to peel the scale off to get at a hidden blade or two anyway, Tayana opted to don her civilian wear, a deep blue tunic that her fashion consultant, the little bard Mary Brennae, had assured her brought out the blue of her eyes, and had also assured Tayana not to mind the plunging neckline, as the heroine "might want to resemble a girl someday." The leggings and boots were much more reasonable, as Brennae lost those arguments. And while she was at it, Tayana took the time to run a brush through her long blonde hair before reappearing in the tavern. Weaving her way to the bar, she handed her weapons over to Morden, and eyed the collection of bottles neatly lining the wall. Tayana sighed. "I'd almost kill for a good Blackburrow stout," she murmured sadly. A familiar squat bottle of murky green glass was placed in front of her, and Tayana's jaw dropped. Wide eyed she stared at Morden as the barkeep watched her reaction.


"e don't have te kill for it lass, but first round's always paid for with a tale, and ye'd best 'ave a good one fer a drink as rare as that one is in these parts," he informed her with a grin. Nodding, Tayana picked up the bottle reverently, barely able to fight the flood of memories that washed over her.


"Well then," she said, clearing her throat. Pausing she turned and motioned Ayslyn over to join her at the bar. "Hello Ays. If I have to tell a tale, I'm makin' ye listen to it. I rather think ye'll like this one. 'Tis a tale of a cleric and a goblin prince." Smirking she settled herself back to tell her tale, absently fidgeting with the precious bottle of stout while she began her tale...


((the twinkies are mine! all mine! more story to come, after i drag myself home from work (i work till close, bleh)))

OOC Ah.. The life of the closer... I know it well


Ayslyn sat next to the heroine, and raised an eyebrow curiously. "I'm game. A cleric and a goblin prince. This aught to be good." He grinned.

 

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"What be y'er story lad? Wha' 'as turned ye into such a synical person that ye canna share a drink in good company?"


Still in shock from what he sees, Shamis slowly turns around once more to face the barkeep. A somber expression crosses his face.


"What turned me as such? Loyality, that some realms seem to have frogotten, to a dream. Rasing a brother by y'er self. When Parents have been killed for that same dream. That few now remember.

Hibernia, being the first to leave, claimed my father..."

Shamis begins his story, " He was in the party that had gone to see why their ambassadors had stopped comming to pay their tythe, as per custom, for the good of the realm.

As they passed by Crim, a place me father had spent many a day trainign with the champions of hibernia, they were ambushed by several nightshades.

As the nightshades brought death from within, the hib archers rained death from above! He was killed before he could even draw his sword! He who had spent the latter part of his career in service to the church as a palidn, was cut down like not more then Chattle!"


A flicker crosses his face, a brief break in the other wise calm and collected demenor.

"As bad as that was me m'um suffered worse at the hands of midgard..

Several people suspected that it 'twould be but a short time before midgard followed suit...

Her information on where,when and how many allowed for our forces to stop them before they took camelot itself."

shamis's voice begins to rise, "She was captured before she could leave their realm...

By the time the guild of shadows found her and managed to get a reacue party into the heathen realm... she had been ravaged for months..."

a grim expresion crosses shamis face as his voice increases almost to a yell but backed by the tone of steel, "They had burnt out her eyes, cut out her tounge... and done worse..." rage flashes in shamis's eyes as he speaks next.

" I WAS FIVE! How would you FEEL?" He slams his fist into the bartop, yelling the end of his tale so loud it was heard over the music.


Realizing that most of the bar is staring at him, Shamis says," pardon me" in a soft voice and steps outside, and walks tp the end of the patio outside, completely forgetting about his weapons that the barkeep still holds...


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ooc yes this is shamis's history and sarati if he remembers helped role play an even where shamis was MIA for a week to to the anaversery o fhis mothers death and he almost drank himself to death


Shamis McCullen <49.3 infil> (shroud)

Shamis Coughs and stares out into the night..


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ooc rp bump


Shamis McCullen

carys gasps as his arm wraps around her and keeps her on her feet in one sudden move.

She feels herself flush to her core as she stares into the knight's eyes.


"Nay My Lord, " she whispers softly, in her lilting tone.

"Twas my fault, I dinna see thee come in, I think ye still be standin outs. . . " she grows quiet as she realizes what she was about to admit.

She continues to study his face and eyes.

"Twas my error, but I thank thee heartily for savin me." She smiles and curtseys low.

after a few moments of silence, with the knight studying her as well, she breaks the silence.

"Have ye ever been here before My Lord? Tis a curious place."

Smirking she settled herself back to tell her tale, absently fidgeting with the precious bottle of stout while she began her tale...


"Once in a small kingdom in a land far from the realms lived a very handsome prince. He was spoiled, as many princes are; surrounded by beautiful, fine things and servants to cater to his every whim. The prince grew to be a cold hearted young man, caring not a whit for his people. One day a great elven enchantress was traveling through the kingdom, and the suffering she saw there pained her greatly. She placed a terrible curse upon the handsome prince, transforming him into a goblin. He could never speak of who and what he truly was, and as a goblin he would remain until he either learned the value of life, or ended his suffering in death...


"The prince despaired at his ill fortune--he had lost everything! His comfortable palace, all his riches and servants, all were gone. Shunned by townspeople, even shunned by other goblins who didn't understand his peculiar ways, he had nowhere to go. After a great deal of lonely wandering he happened upon a small band of goblins outside of a town named Shadowdale, and they took in their poor, confused cousin.


"Unbeknownst to the prince, a band of adventurers was meeting in the town, bent upon exploring an abandoned mage's tower not far away. Traveling with these adventurers was a fair young half elven lass, a cleric of modest talents but ambitious to serve her god to the best of her ability. The party set out from Shadowdale towards the tower, where they were soon spotted by the band of goblins. Gleefully the goblins planned a surprise attack, certain that the rag tag group would be no match for their superior numbers." Tayana paused, shaking her head and muttering about the idiocy of goblins under her breath. "They attacked, but much to the goblins' surprise, were quickly defeated. All of the goblin party was slain, all but one: the goblin prince, who miraculously survived.


"The adventurers wanted to slay the surviving goblin, but the soft hearted cleric would not hear of it. It had suffered enough, the poor thing, and had surely learned its lesson; her companions argued that the goblin, if freed, would continue to terrorize the nearby townspeople. So, they compromised, and brought the goblin with them. Suddenly the prince found himself a part of an adventuring party, and a rather eccentric one at that...


"A series of odd twists and turns befell the party, and as they dealt with each new problem the bond between them grew stronger, but the prince always felt like an outsider. After all, to the majority of the party, he was nothing but a goblin. To the cleric however, the goblin presented a sort of challenge. She believed that, with a little effort, he could be more than the simple goblin everyone else thought him to be. For you see, being a half elf, she had a unique perspective on life, never quite belonging anywhere and suffering the prejudices of others, and so an odd friendship developed between the pair. Thrilled that someone saw more in him than just a gnarled little goblin, the prince followed the cleric everywhere, sitting always at her side and being first to defend her in combat. The cleric's brother even dubbed the prince with the honorary title of cleric's bodyguard.


"One day as they were traveling the adventurers encountered a cult of lizardmen attempting to summon a dragon. Naturally the lizardmen didn't want to be stopped, and as an adventuring party it was their duty to stop the lizardmen. Long and hard fought was the battle, it seemed as though scores upon scores of the lizardmen assaulted the party, and then there was the great red dragon to deal with. Several times it seemed as though one of the companions would fall, but each time the cleric was there with her war hammer and her healing prayers. Finally the battle had ended, the dragon and its minions defeated, but there was no joy at the victory. At the cleric's feet lay the body of her goblin friend, bleeding and broken and moments away from death after having taken a wound that had been meant for the cleric. To her dismay she found that in her exhaustion she had no strength left for another healing spell. Crying she held her dying friend in her arms and prayed to her god that the goblin might be spared, that she might be granted just one more bit of strength, just one more bit of healing, anything that would save him.


"As her tears fell upon the body of the goblin a strange thing occurred. Glowing light surrounded his body, but it wasn't the glow of healing, but something entirely different. As the party looked on in stunned amazement the body of the dying goblin changed, transforming into that of a human--living, breathing and without a scratch on him. The prince's curse had been broken, for not only had he learned to care enough for another to sacrifice himself to save her, but he had earned the love of a lass wise enough to look past a surface, even one as hideous as a goblin's, and to see something of value within."


Spinning the bottle one last time in her hands, the heroine finally uncorked it and took a long drink of the stout. Smiling blissfully, she gently set the bottle down upon the bar. "'Tis not the best story, I know. I never claimed to be much of a storyteller. But, well, I've always been partial to it," Tayana said, shrugging slightly.

A man wrapped in a black cape with the cowl pulled over his head walks into the tavern and looks around cautiously. The tavern is rather busy so he scans the room quickly for an empty seat. He moves hastily across the room to an empty table in the corner and sits silently.


As the barmaid walks by he reaches out with his right hand and touches her wrist exposing a golden signet ring bearing a rampant lion.


"Lass, might you bring me a pint of ale?" asked the man in a distinctively Highlander tone.


As the barmaid nodded and walked away he looked about the room and just listened to the tales being spun. A smile came upon his face as he nodded his approval.