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| Fintan_de_Marin
Posts: 1,511 Status: Duke Karma: +250 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: The Inn, the Bards, and the Highwayman | |||||
 As Fintan walked in to the inn, he removed his cloak and hat. Not trying to mask his annoyance, he lumbered over to the bar. As late as it was, there were few people in the Phoenix. Only a pair of people talking over piles of papers at one of the larger tables, a traveler who was having his dinner, and a passed out drunkard. It were the pair speaking about their work that intrigued Fintan for a brief moment. One was a young man, and the other a she-elf. The she-elf was, as Fintan guessed, either a Westland born, or just trying to prove herself as she carried a very large sword on her back. A cloak covered only her left side. It was dark brown, soft leather with what looked like a wool lining. Fintan assumed it was for more of a practical use rather than the fashion his velvet and silk cape was. Short brown boots came up to her calves. A pair of dark brown and light tan leggings were tucked in to the boots. Her wool tunic was a slight brown and tan. Her long dirty blond hair was pulled back behind her pointed ears. "What would make this story more interesting?" Asked the female bard to the male. The male wore a black cloak, thrown behind his shoulders at the current moment. A short sleeved olive green jerkin clad his upper body. His black trousers were tucked in to knee high boots. But it was the rapier that caught Fintan's eye. It was a soldier's rapier from the Empire. Of course those were easily accessible to anyone with a bit of gold. However, Fintan wondered if he had ever been in the service of Boudicca or Keeva. The young man's hair was just down to his shoulders, and pulled back behind his head in a ponytail. "What do you have so far?" He asked, putting his quill down. "So far, the dragon queen has killed her lover because she's going insane." "Not to discourage you, Lady Elf. But stories of dragon are outdated." Fintan interjected. "From what I have seen, highwaymen are the new topic of interest." "I don't care." The she elf stated. "Highwaymen are boring and I can't write about them." "He's got a point though..." The young man stated. "Thank you good sir." Fintan took his mug of ale from Wendy, who gave it with her usual flirty smile to him. "Forgive my lack of manners. I am Count Fintan de Marin Erlise." He bowed his head. "If I may inquire as to your names?" "Christine Uisceglan" The elf said, starting to scribble on a piece of paper again. "Losrael Riddle" The human replied. "A pleasure." Fintan bowed his head again. "Lord Riddle...did you by chance serve Boudicca or Keeva in the past?" Fintan gestured to the sword on Losrael's side. "Oh, no. I bought the sword from an Arelian merchant a few years ago." "I see...a duel some times perhaps? I should like to see your skill with it." He glanced to Christine. "And you, Lady Uisceglan? An past adventurer? I've never seen a lady carry a sword of that girth without there being some reason. Dare I say you both strike me as the traveling sort...what are your professions?" "We're writers, not really adventurers." Losrael announced. "And I would enjoy that test." "You just accepted a challenge from Queen Keeva's Musketeer Captain....smart Losrael. You're gonna have your butt kicked." Christine gave a slight huffing laugh and a toothy smile. Losrael looked back at Fintan and gulped slightly. "And we are bards, Your Grace, not writers. We write on the side." "I shall go easy on you Lord Riddle." Fintan pulled his right glove off and stuffed it in his belt. "For I've never known but one bard to carry a blade, and he was quickly dispatched." Fintan's mind went back to the time he was in New Daron, and removed the back of a bard's skull for insulting the Arelian Crown and trying to claim what was Arelia's. "But then, I did shoot him...." Losrael's eyes widened, not fear but excitement. "You carry a pistol?" "I carry several....fancy yourself a marksman as well?" Fintan quickly drew and fired his pistol, striking the cork of a bottle, cutting it off cleanly with the mouth of the bottle. "Whoa! Nice shot!" Losreal exclaimed, laughing slightly. "Damnit Fintan! Stop doing that in my Inn!" Wendy yelled at him, swatting at his hand with her towel. Fintan put back the pistol. "My apologies Miss Wendy." Christine was laughing as Fintan tried to fend off the swats. Wendy finally let him be and went back to cleaning the bar. Fintan looked back to the two bards. "I'll tell you what, mate. I've got an extra pair of pistols I'm not using. They're both in prime condition. If you beat me in the duel, they're yours. Sound fair?" "Absolutely!" Losrael looked extremely excited. Fintan took a sip of his ale, and turned his gaze back to Christine who was back to writing. "Taking my advice?" "No, I don't like highwaymen. Besides, I already have a villain in the story. I need a hero." "What implied that the highwayman was the villain? I've yet to meet a lady who does not have some sort of romantic feeling towards a rider." "You just did." Losrael grumbled softly to Fintan. "I don't. They're murderous traitors who deserve a short rope and a quick drop." The highwayman cleared his throat gruffly, taking slight offense to the statement, though he said nothing of it. "I'm sure not all are like that...what about that Silver Rose. He seemed loved by the people, the nobles hated him though..." "Exactly what makes him a traitor." "I would think that the love of the people is more important than that of the court. After all, the Crown can do nothing with out the people's loyalty." "Do you ever have a twisted sense of politics." Losreal stated. "My Lord Riddle. I am a politician. I believe the government should fear her people, and do all it takes to keep them content. It is a pity that the Westlands are not like that. I shall admit, the Empire is not, but she is far closer to that perfect country status." Christine only scoffed and continued writing. "I won't write about a murderer, not as a hero anyway." "Fine, fine. Far be it from me to judge the work of a master bard." Fintan drained his ale, and set the mug down gently on the bar. "Good evening to both of you." He offered his hand to Losreal. The young man grasped the Count's wrist firmly. Fintan then walked over to Christine and offered his hand to her. Upon her hand meeting his, he spoke again. "May Clerin's shadows watch over you this night." And kissed her hand. The very moment his lips met her hand, her face went bright red, and her left foot which was crossed over her right knee came up and met his groin. "Sorry, I prefer other males." She stated, with a poison honey smile. Losreal burst out laughing, as did Wendy, causing her do drop a glass. "Under stood Miss Uisceglan." Fintan responded in a relatively higher voice than usual. "I bid you both, once more, good evening....." He turned, and headed up the stairs to his usual room for the night, now unable to sit properly in the saddle. |
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