Pantaloons - blehhhhhhhhhhhhh [img]tongue.gif[/img]

OOC- Nah, Lyulfe isn't naughty ALL the time.. [img]tongue.gif[/img] he just likes to be evil to his slightly blonde counterpart. :D

IC-Skye peered over the elf's shoulder (more like peered around the elf's shoulder, but that's ok) at the map he was holding. Glancing down at the map she was crudely sketching, she gave a sigh then tossed it over her shoulder. "You really shouldn't litter," she heard a voice remark dryly and she turned around in surprise. "Lyulfe, I didn't know you decided to come!" she remarked. The dragon shrugged (if you can imagine a dragon shrugging) "I was bored.. how else am I supposed to entertain myself?" Skye rolled her eyes then asked the elf "So.. where should we head to first?"

OOC- it's so empty.. :(
and if i may ask, LS.. how exactly didja become a/the slave of legolas? ^^; *looking at LS's sig with interest*

[ 08-26-2002, 05:54 PM: Message edited by: Skydracgrrl ]

Tancred looks speculatively at the Dragon, confused thoughts about traditional knightly treatment of Dragons running through his head. In the end, he shakes his head and busies himself with an egg sandwich.

Lyulfe in return eyed Tancred specutively, and sniffed at the sword. "Who would be stupid enough to be trapped in a sword.. no respective magic caster would let that happen to themself.." he muttered under his breath dryly.

OOC- that comment should add some excitement.. [img]graemlins/evillaughter2.gif[/img]

Kyval Kesh

*sips his wine*

"Oh I don't know - it might be a nice and uncomplicated existance, being a sword. No moral problems - after all swords don't kill people - people kill people" (OOC: ;) )

Karnas bristles at Lyulfe's crack, but the comment on 'swords not killing people' sets him chuckling.
Tancred looks glum for a moment.
"THIS sword has killed a fair few," he mumbles.

"It has been a while" A voice suddenly mutters, and with a loud crack a figure appears in the center of the bar. As everyone stands still and dares not to take a breath, the figure rises to full length, and looks around, eyes flashing at those present.
"Still an old dump." The warrior makes sure the bartender doesn't hear what he says, for he knows the man has got a temper. But then again, he...
"Arrr.. matey, what are ye doin' 'round 'ere?" A drunken sailor steps over to the warrior, and stops in front ofdead right him. "Well, aren't ya gonna talk?" The drunk asks, and he takes another sip of his bottle. With a drunken man's courage he glares around, and again he looks at the warrior
"No." The voice of the warrior is soft, almost tender. Almost as if he is not the fearsome warrior they know him to be. Almost as if he is.. human.
"Link! Link! Is it really you?" At long last the people in the bar realise that the person in front of them is actually Link, the warrior who has shared some great adventures with them. They know him as a brilliant warrior, but also they know the other side of Link, the side of the wizard Atuan, with whom Link fused a long time ago. And some of them even know the dark side of Link. The heavy weight that he bears with him, the weight of his ancestory, of his father.

Link shrugs. "Yes, it's me. I'm alright, for those of you that wish to know, and I regret I've been gone so long. But it was necessary." As the warrior finishes his sentence, he walks up to Tancred, and without even asking he sits next to him. He knows that Tancred still knows him, and that they have shared some brilliant moments together.
"Tancred." Link says. "Tell me. How has it been here? I've not been able to join in the countless adventures that you've had when I was gone, but tell me about them. I wish to know everything. Is my... " The warrior suddenly falls silent as if he's looking for the right words, but then he continues. "...my father. Is he still wreaking havoc? Hasn't he changed?"

There is a loud *pop!* and Sharra appears, stumbling, at the foot of the inn's stairs. Her dark green robe is in disarray and her dagger is in her hand.

She looks around, confused, as though unsure of what just happened, but her face clears when she sees Link sitting nearby, when he had been gone so long...so very long.

"Link! I was unsure...something called me here, and now I see. If you have returned, then...something is stirring. Something." She shakes her head and shuts her eyes for a moment. I don't know what has been going on, I've been in an alte- never mind that. Link...where have you been? What is going on? Where is...he?"

[ 09-07-2002, 07:28 PM: Message edited by: Lioness ]

Tancred's eyes widen as he realises who has appeared... Link? Memories flow unbidden; of a werewolf, a vast, slavering shag-carpet with attitude and claws, and a battle within the Bar itself... Link; an elven warrior with a clouded identity and a secret destiny.
"My word... it... it isn't Li -"
The young warrior's brain catches up with his ears.
"Um, what? I... haven't heard anything about your father... Who is..."
There is a sudden *pop*, and a young woman appears, a tumble of dark green cloth and wild hair. She moves to Link, hailing him with joyful but urgent words.
Tancred stares into space for a moment, brow furrowed. He looks at the space where Link had appeared. Then he looks to Link, smiling at the appearance of his friend. The cavalier swings his gaze over to where the young woman had appeared, and then pans along to look at her, speaking in urgent whispers to the elven warrior.
Tancred gives his sword a confused look.
Karnas somehow gives the impression of a *shrug*. "Don't look at me, holy-boy. I must have slept through this part of the story too..."

The bar was quite noisy and smoke filled the air. Good conversation was in great demand as the elves sat with each other and the occasional human would sit near the fire. All in all it was a warm and friendly place. The peace would soon be interrupted by an unknown visitor of familiar origin.

There was a soft thumping noise and a grumble of a dwarven voice emanating from the door. A few seconds would go by and then the same thumping noise would happen again. After a minute or two of the thumping and expletive hurling, the door finally opened. The figure was hard to see in the dim light of the bar, but some could make out a dwarven figure if they cared to look. Flies buzzed around his head because of his noisome stench. He had been told more than once that “all dwarves smell like urine”. Since that assessment came from an Elf, he paid it no mind. Hiram stomped up to the bar and pushed aside a barmaid. Her hips were large enough to hide him from the frowning bartender. He was heard grumbling how the doorknob was entirely too high up and he wasn’t born to jump. He attempted to get the attention of the barmaid but she was too enraptured by the pretty Elves.

Hiram did what he usually has to do to gain attention. He untied his trusty hammer and dropped it onto the floor. The sound and repercussion stopped all the conversation and every eye was upon him. He knew he only had 12 seconds before he would be ignored again, so he simply asked for some ale. He knew the common tongue and although he had a thick accent, he made his request clear. The barmaid was kind enough to escort him to a table for the “little people” as she put it and Hiram gladly sat down and drank his ale. As usual, he was alone in a crowded room.