only a child. -- phrost/open

[ayath]

well I can
dance with you honey, if you think it's funny, but does
your mother know that you're out? I can chat with you
baby, flirt a little maybe, does your mother know that you're out?

- - - - - - - - - -

Ayath looked at the city with a foul taste in her mouth. She disliked big cities; they made her miss home fiercely. Going home would do nothing, however. No one was left and it wouldn't bring Marianne back. Technically, Ayath didn't have a home anymore. Once she found Marianne... well, she didn't know what they were going to do. All that mattered right now was finding her. To find her meant going into cities and looking for her.

Ayath inhaled and exhaled slowly, steeling herself. She looked at Belladonna, her horse, and gave a slight smile as the animal nodded her head. Ayath stifled a laugh. Belladonna always knew just what she was thinking. Bella's antics always put her in the right midset to become her gypsy self. So, Bella's bridle in hand, Ayath headed into the town.

She'd been here before, often enough to be able to find the Inn without much help. She handed off Bella's reins to a stableboy and flicked him a coin, then headed inside. The place was not as crowded as she thought it would be, but that did not damper her spirits. They knew her well enough here; word would spread of her arrival. She immediately headed to the Innkeeper, a portly man who was nice enough to her. He smiled broadly when he saw her, knowing that she would bring him a great deal of coin and drink.

"Miss Moonsong! Quite a pleasure to see you, quite a pleasure. Will you be requiring a room? I'm sure I can find you a nice one!"

Ayath smiled. "Yes, thank you very much. Will it be okay if I perform a few songs tonight?" Ayath would tell a couple stories and sing a few songs, as well as having a few instruments at her disposal. She could ply to any crowd in one way or another. The people at the tables didn't really notice her yet, so she had the chance to sit and observe the crowd.

"Why of course! We do love when you're here. Would you like anything to drink or eat? You must be hungry."

Ayath nodded her approval, and the Innkeeper gestured to an empty table and went about to getting it for her. She moved to a corner table so she could watch the guests while she was eating. It didn't take the man long to bring her bread and cheese along with a flagon of ale. She delicately picked apart the bread, slipping morsels in her mouth as she listened to conversation. The people who owned the Inns she performed at knew that she was watching the crowd to make sure that she picked the right stories and songs. While yes, she was doing that, she was also listening for word on the whereabouts of Marianne.

A few more people filed in, soldiers it looked like, and took their own table near her. They were a noisy bunch, and she gave a light sigh as she broke off a piece of cheese. She had a cloak covering her body so she shouldn't be ogled too much, but her curly black hair was protruding from the hood and her slight form gave her away as a female. She almost wished that she could just leave, but Ayath knew that finding Marianne was her first priority, no matter how many soldiers she had to tolerate.

- - - - - - - - - -

tag;; phrost/brian
outfit;; gypsy garb
status;; not done
notes;;
song credit;; does your mother know -- abba
template credit;; me.

[phrostphyre]

I led the small group of off-duty soldiers, a Hibernian, myself, and two Kents, to a tavern I enjoyed drinking at. Members of the military got a discount, and I happened to enjoy what they called beer. I enjoyed it because they didn’t piss in it. We passed the establishment twice, as I had to carry one of the Kents. He had decided to get drunk before we left the Citadel, and his brother hadn’t wanted to leave him, so I had acquiesced. I booted the door open and moved to an empty table. I had the Hibernian clear it off and then I dumped the drunk Kent on it, to have more ale poured down his throat. I walked to the innkeeper and spoke with him quietly while the sober Kent and the Hibernian ogled the woman not too far away from our table. I had gotten rounds of ale for us all while the money lasted, and while the alcohol lasted. I had ordered for myself water. I needed to stay sober, as I was designated navigator to get us back to the Citadel. I took a deep drink and listened to the flow of the room. My head was down, but when I heard the Kent and Hibernian discussing the lass, my head came up. My rank was Piper First Class, meaning I ranked them, but they were bigger than me. I spoke in quiet Gaelic, warning them both: ”Scoir féachaint ar a. Ach rabhadh leat a fháil.” They replied in the same language they would, and so I relaxed.

About an hour later, she stood and walked out of the room. The sober Kent and Hibernian followed her out, leaving me with the drunken Kent. I had seen the look in their eyes. They were planning rape. I stood quietly and moved, my kilt’s plaid swinging as I rapidly followed the scent of lust. My nose twitched slightly; to the left, headed for the stable. I increased my pace but fell into a hunter’s crouch, my fists coming up unbidden in preparation for a fight. The door to the stable was closed. I moved around the side, and then clambered in through a window. My eyes needed a moment to adjust, and then I could see the two men at the door, blocking her exit. I moved like lightning, and then I was in front of her at my full height. I spoke in Gaelic once more, but this time they ignored me. Drunk and lustful were never good combinations. They began advancing in unison, and I felt my lips pull back in a snarl, unwanted. It filled the stable, startling the horses. My presence alone had them skittish; this display of my other side would scare them near to death. The Hibernian broke first. He lunged, hoping to catch me off guard. I moved to the side and caught his arm. I pulled it towards me, and then as his back was open, I brought my elbow down upon his neck, dropping him. The Kent was more wary, but still drunk, and that helped. Maybe I could convince him he didn’t want to do what I was reading in his eyes.

”Stop now, man. I dinnae want tae be hurting ye.”[/color] He ignored me. I shook my head slightly, but set about doing what needed done. I moved like fire, and a rap to his jaw set him to the floor. I caught him before he hit his head, and then I turned towards the lass. I spoke, but now I was under control more, and sounding less like an animal. ”I’m sore grieved ye had tae see that, milady. They dinnae hold their drink so well….Please, let me escort ye back inside?”[/color] I turned and slung both men over one shoulder, then offered her my calloused, big, hairy hand. The hand of a warrior, offered in aid.

[ayath]

well I can
dance with you honey, if you think it's funny, but does
your mother know that you're out? I can chat with you
baby, flirt a little maybe, does your mother know that you're out?

- - - - - - - - - -

Ayath continued to eat her meal in silence, soaking in the conversations around her. She had forced herself to learn a few common words in the varying languages where she went, so she knew that the soldiers were talking about her. She didn't know quite what they were saying, but she knew enough. She polished off the rest of her meal and decided that she wouldn't need any instruments for this crowd. A few songs and stories would do. However, she wanted to check on Belladonna before she began. Ayath gracefully rose and signaled to the Innkeep that should would be right back. He nodded, and she headed for the door. She heard the scrapes of chairs at her departure, and she stifled back a groan.

She supposed it was a good thing that she was going to the stables anyway, considering her weapons were on Bella. She didn't walk faster or make it look like she knew they were there, and their bumbling, drunken arrogance made them think they would have her cornered. A grim smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. Ayath was never cornered.

She slipped into the barn, making sure that she left the door open. They stumbled in after, shutting the door behind them. She had moved swiftly to Bella's stall though, so they looked a bit confused. Then Ayath rounded the corner, cloak off her body. The men didn't notice the daggers in her palms, just the curves of her body. Just as she was going to fling the first one into a man's eye, she heard a growl and a voice broke in.

”Stop now, man. I dinnae want tae be hurting ye.”

Ayath raised an eyebrow as she looked at the newcomer. He was one of the soldiers from inside. She watched as he advanced on his comrades, who didn't seem like they were going to listen. She watched as he knocked one unconscious, his brute strength seemingly enough to convince the other that what he wanted to attempt was futile. Then he started to move, and Ayath swiftly placed her daggers back where they were hidden.

”I’m sore grieved ye had tae see that, milady. They dinnae hold their drink so well….Please, let me escort ye back inside?"

Ayath tilted her head and looked at the man sprawled across his shoulder, then at his hand. Internally arguing with herself for a few moments, she gingerly placed a hand on his arm. Might as well, then she could dedicate a song to him for saving her and earn a tad more of a reputation. She looked up at him, letting a small smile mask her porcelain face. "Thank you." she stated quietly. This would be one of the times where she'd be leaving before dawn the next day, she could already tell.

- - - - - - - - - -

tag;; phrost/brian
outfit;; gypsy garb
status;; not done
notes;;
song credit;; does your mother know -- abba
template credit;; me.

[phrostphyre]

I turned towards the door and opened it with my boot, holding it that way for her to enter. I let her go in, and then dumped the two fools upon the table that we had been sitting at. They both landed with a slight thud, and then I pulled the woman’s seat out for her. She sat with genteel grace, and then I sat. I was at war with myself; she was beautiful, yes. I had caught the flash of steel on her as she replaced her twin daggers. She could probably emasculate me if I did anything untoward, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

”Milady, I am Brian Conchobhar MacTìre, Third Officer of the Royal Alban Longbowmen and Skirmishers, and Third Earl of Eilean Donan in exile. I am delighted to make your acquaintance, milady.”[/color] I kissed her hand and bowed my head. I stayed that way for a moment, and then withdrew my hand. I sat up straight, letting her see my features. The next move was hers; I beckoned to the innkeeper for a drink. I needed it. It arrived a moment later, and I downed the entire thing without noticing the flavor, age, what type of wood barrel in had been aged in, or anything really, save for the fact that it was quite probably his oldest Scotch. It burned going down, and I grimaced. I shook my head, feeling foolish. Why? Probably because I was nineteen years old. I didn’t know her name, general age, or anything. She looked about twenty-five, though. Pretty enough, I suppose. She wouldn’t want me buying her a drink. Women disliked me buying them alcohol. Chocolates, flowers, and jewels were what they wanted me to spend my money on. However, I refrained from making any more judgments. You couldn’t ever judge a woman by her cover. Her face seemed like a mask, though. What was she hiding? I took the risk of scenting the air, and what came off of her surprised me. She was looking for someone. She knew how to use a sword, but not well enough for a pitched battle, just self defense. She was constantly sad; it hung in the air around her like a cloak. I was surprised at the last one; she didn’t seem sad, but the scents never lied. It was there.

[ayath]

well I can
dance with you honey, if you think it's funny, but does
your mother know that you're out? I can chat with you
baby, flirt a little maybe, does your mother know that you're out?

- - - - - - - - - -

Ayath kept a wary eye on her rescuer, allowing him to lead her back to the bar. She couldn't help the small smile as he dropped the men on the table. The Innkeeper looked at her with concern, but she just dipped her head to say that she was fine. As soon as she sat down, he brought her a drink. The patrons looked a little curious, but generally went back to their drinks. Suddenly the man was on the ground in front of her, kissing her hand.

”Milady, I am Brian Conchobhar MacTìre, Third Officer of the Royal Alban Longbowmen and Skirmishers, and Third Earl of Eilean Donan in exile. I am delighted to make your acquaintance, milady.”

Ayath gave him a slight smile. "Ayath Moonsong." she said, almost positive that he would know of her name. She was getting quite the reputation as a bard, which annoyed her just as much as it amused her. With reputation came more coin, and more demands to stay longer. Ayath had made it a rule to never stay too long in once place, and it was getting harder to politely leave after only one night.

She lifted her drink to her lips and took a swig, letting the ale trickle down her throat. She wasn't sure what this man wanted, or why he was sitting with her. She was no china doll, she could definitely take care of herself. He may just see what everyone else saw though, which she guessed was her goal. The more she looked like a harmless bard, the easier it was to keep searching for Marianne unnoticed.

- - - - - - - - - -

tag;; phrost/brian
outfit;; gypsy garb
status;; done
notes;;
song credit;; does your mother know -- abba
template credit;; me.

[phrostphyre]

Her name was as delicate as she wasn’t. While I had held her hand to kiss it, calluses told me their story. A swordswoman, good enough to defend herself, but not good enough to fight a war or battle. An accomplished horse rider. I figured enough from the hand and the scents to tell me one thing: Ayath Moonsong wasn’t her name, and she wanted vengeance. I drank my mystically refilled Scotch slowly, savoring the taste. I pushed my hand through my hair. It was soft, like that of a wolf’s pelt. I wondered how Ayath’s hair would feel, then shook that thought from my mind. I smiled softly while I spoke.

”Dinnae dedicate a song to me. I hae nae done anything worthy of such an honor, milady. However, if I may? Would ye dedicate one tae my unit, the Savage Faithful?”[/color]

[ayath]

well I can
dance with you honey, if you think it's funny, but does
your mother know that you're out? I can chat with you
baby, flirt a little maybe, does your mother know that you're out?

- - - - - - - - - -

”Dinnae dedicate a song to me. I hae nae done anything worthy of such an honor, milady. However, if I may? Would ye dedicate one tae my unit, the Savage Faithful?”

Ayath raised a slim eyebrow, then looked pointedly at his 'unit', unconscious on the table. Well, at least he was loyal, she supposed. She nodded her consent to his request and downed the rest of her drink. She stood, catching the Innkeeper's eye to tell him she was going to sing. The man nodded and thumped the drinkers nearest him, pointing Ayath out. The word passed like wildfire, and the whole crowd was silent and watching by the time she got to the platform. She walked slowly, deliberately, and faced away from the audience once she reached the stage. This was it, showtime.

She whirled around, her skirts dancing around her ankles. She dropped into a curtsy, her movements fluid and graceful. 'If it would please the crowd, I would like to sing you a song." The crowd roared its approval, slamming drinks on the table to make more noise. She inclined her head, and the noise died down. "This song is for a group called the Savage Faithful." She blew her rescuer a kiss, then launched into the song. It was slightly upbeat, and the crowd was clapping along with her words. They didn't drown Ayath out though, she had a good, strong voice.

You're the fighter you've got the fire
The spirit of a warrior, the champion's heart
You fight for your life because the fighter never quits
You make the most of the hand you're dealt
Because the quitter never wins
No!

You were born to fight in a city that's seen their share
Carvala, Teirm, Aroughs, among them your photo proudly hangs there
Above the bar in the Gaelic Club
They tell the story of a throwback
With the heart of a lion
They salute your glory

It's another murderous right
Another left hook from hell
A bloody war on the boardwalk
And the kid from Alagaësia rises to the bell

She held the last note and the rhythmic clapping tuned to applause. They littered the stage with coin, and Ayath was able to slickly put them in her coin purse as she bowed. They clamored for more, but Ayath help her hands up. "If you allow me to have a few more drinks, I may tell a story or two." The crowd cheered, and she hopped off the platform and headed back to the table. She slipped into her seat and the Innkeep brought her another ale. He gave her a jolly wink, and headed back to the bar where men were fighting over who would buy her next drink. Ayath gave a light smile, then looked back at Brian.

- - - - - - - - - -

tag;; phrost/brian
outfit;; gypsy garb
status;; done
notes;;
song credit;; does your mother know -- abba
template credit;; me.

[phrostphyre]

So she could sword fight, ride, and sing. One question remained unanswered: Who, or what was she looking for? Something to ask her as the other men in the room vied to buy her a drink. Once she was seated, I opened the discussion by drawing my dirk and stabbing it into the table. It stood there, hilt quivering from the force of the blow, as I spoke quietly. I motioned for the innkeeper to bring her something to drink, and he did so.

”Ayath Moonsong is not your birth name. Ye can sword fight, well enough to survive, and ye can ride a horse. Ye wander around. People looking for something wander around. What are ye looking for, Not-Ayath?”[/color]

[ayath]

well I can
dance with you honey, if you think it's funny, but does
your mother know that you're out? I can chat with you
baby, flirt a little maybe, does your mother know that you're out?

- - - - - - - - - -

Ayath watched the Innkeeper deny the mens' requests to get her drinks. He knew that she'd rather buy her own. As she watched, Brian suddenly slammed his knife into the table. She didn't jump, didn't even move, but shifted her eyes from the bar to him. She then turned slowly, one eyebrow raised and a look on her face that said she wanted an explanation.

”Ayath Moonsong is not your birth name. Ye can sword fight, well enough to survive, and ye can ride a horse. Ye wander around. People looking for something wander around. What are ye looking for, Not-Ayath?”

She felt a knot in her stomach, but it didn't show on her face. Instead, she tilted her head. "I'm a female traveling alone, of course I know how to fight. My horse is how I get around to ply my trade. And I am a spinner of tales, sir." Her eyes flashed brightly. She wasn't about to tell a stranger what she was looking for, that was how she'd get killed.

- - - - - - - - - -

tag;; phrost/brian
outfit;; gypsy garb
status;; done
notes;;
song credit;; does your mother know -- abba
template credit;; me.

[phrostphyre]

”Maybe so, lass, but what of your daggers and the speed you replaced them as I stepped in? I knew you could hae handled it, but I would rather crack the skulls of my men than hae them lose their lives. If I had let ye do that, a military investigation would have followed. As it is, I’ll get a wee pat on the back for saving a civilian from rape and keeping the men from breaking the law.”[/color] I leaned back and downed the rest of my drink. The ball was in her court, and it was her play. I grinned disarmingly, then sheathed my dirk. The moonstone hilt was warm for some reason, but I discounted it as ambient atmosphere, not the group of Alagaesian soldiers that had recently walked in.

[ayath]

well I can
dance with you honey, if you think it's funny, but does
your mother know that you're out? I can chat with you
baby, flirt a little maybe, does your mother know that you're out?

- - - - - - - - - -

”Maybe so, lass, but what of your daggers and the speed you replaced them as I stepped in? I knew you could hae handled it, but I would rather crack the skulls of my men than hae them lose their lives. If I had let ye do that, a military investigation would have followed. As it is, I’ll get a wee pat on the back for saving a civilian from rape and keeping the men from breaking the law.”

Ayath gave a small, coy smile before looking down at her drink. She always hated the perceptive ones. They made leaving town quietly very difficult. Ayath often wondered how it would be if she told someone what she was doing, that it may be easier to do with someone at her side. However, she would always remember that everyone was the enemy and she could trust no one.

"So I'm quick. What of it?" she asked, a nonchalant tone enveloping the words. Ayath was pleased that the issue of her name had passed and he wasn't pushing that. However, many more questions from this man would be bad, and she might have to just leave despite having already paid for the room.

- - - - - - - - - -

tag;; phrost/brian
outfit;; gypsy garb
status;; done
notes;;
song credit;; does your mother know -- abba
template credit;; me.

[phrostphyre]

So now the evasive answers; I grinned lightly at her, the alcohol having tried to loosen my tongue but failing miserably. I tried a different method of attack. Direct force didn’t work; would subtle flanking arouse her suspicion? I was feeling faintly euphoric; despite being in the company of three unconscious fellow soldiers, a semi-hostile female, and having to kill something worming its way around the inside of my mind. Does she dislike foreigners, or is she just hostile in general? Gods, who cares? She’s pretty enough to make up for it. The last part was the drink attacking my judgment. The line soldiers grimaced at me, their faces full of dislike. Guts and glory sounded good in a bar, but on the field, the unit holding your right more often than not saved your ass. When fighting with other formations, my unit usually took the right or center position, granted by seniority and veteran status. I grinned impudently at them, then stuck my tongue out and waggled it. Blood suffused their faces, but I stood and they walked away. I sat back down, and all was right with my world.

”I’ve nae a thing tae do tomorrow. Would ye like me tae show ye the city?”[/Color]