Post by mairi on Jun 12, 2008 18:15:23 GMT -6
Emerald Urn: -=Collin was tired of his back and forth outside of Ulster. Of course, it would seem the only way to shake of his nomadic tendancy would be to come clean and confront Mairi. First, however, he would re-unite himself with the tavern
Emerald Urn: that he and so many of his men had humoured themselves in. He was interested in only a pint and maybe some bread of sorts. He was getting tired of the dried meat he carried in his sporran. Sliding off his horse, and tying it in the
Emerald Urn: small stable outside, he disarmed himself and marched inside the tavern, waving to those present before sitting down at the bar.=-
Emerald Urn: -=After having a drink and a small meal. He palced some extra coinage on the bar and smiled to the patrons present. He had a job he must tend to. The food here, however, was better than it had been so he was sure he would be back
Emerald Urn: once it was finished, but then something caught his eye. The decorations of the tavern changed slightly. Turning back he motioned for the barkeep, "Excuse me?"=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::Kiley looked up, pushing a few blonde curls from her face as doe-brown eyes registered the unfamiliar face. She smiled pleasantly, sliding out from behind the bar:: Aye? Is ther e somethin' I can be helpin' ye with, sir?
Kiley Ashmore: ::Wiping her clean hands on her clean apron more out of habit than anything else, she looked back at the kitchen, where anyone in the room would be able to smell a mouthwatering aroma..she was always cooking::
Kiley Ashmore: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He nodded lightly, a somewhat confused look was planted firmly on his face, "Aye... was there a sword above the threshold there when ye took the places management?" It was apparent by his tone that he was not making small talk on
Emerald Urn: the interior decorating of the place. He actually looked as if he had lost something.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::She pressed her lips together, thinking about that. Her bottom lip went into her mouth and she chewed on it for a second:: Ye know wha', there was. Is it yers, then? I'm sorry, I redecorated an'..well, it was placed in the back-
Kiley Ashmore: fer safekeepin', seein' as it wasn' mine. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He shook his head, "Nay nay... it wasn't mine. I was jus' makin' sure the Anglish didnae come back fer it. It belonged tae a General whom operated near Cobh, but Donough and I removed it from 'im. Jus' make sure ye keep it in
Emerald Urn: hidin' until Dunluce is not in their 'ands anymore." He nodded lightly and resumed a seat at the bar.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Cobh? ::Mention of that had her perking up, for she'd grown up there. Her parents had had a farm in that very village, small as it was:: I used to live there..bu' was in England fer a long time. I suppose if me aunt could write she-
Kiley Ashmore: would have told me of any English generals tryin' to seize the place or any places near it. ::Changing the subject though, she looked at him as she grabbed a towel and began wiping the bar:: Can I get ye anythin'?
Kiley Ashmore: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He shook his head. "Nah, but thank ye fer offerin'." He was quiet for a moment and then lifted his gaze toward hers. "I am Anglish... by blood not by belief. What is yer opinion of their control up in Ireland. Ya think it's wide
Emerald Urn: **wise
Emerald Urn: fer them to force Christianity or Monarchy on the clansmen?" This seemed to be more of a question of loyalty than anything. At least he was polite about it.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Nae, I don'. I'm pagan actually. Me husband was the Duke o' Suffolk. Me Clan married me off to him in exchange fer a peace treaty. As fer the monarchy..::Her face darkened:: I'm English by title, Irish by birth. I don' care fer the-
Kiley Ashmore: English way o' doin' things, meself. ::A slight shake of her head was given:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He nodded and leaned closer, making sure no one was listening. "Alright las... I need a favor from ye then. Do I 'ave yer permission tae use the Golden Harp as I once 'ad. A sanctuary for meh an' meh closest generals. I knoo it's
Emerald Urn: a lot tae ask. This place is one of the closest businesses tae Dunluce... an' if our raids are goin' tae work... then we could very well need it in the future."=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::A slight frown of thought could be seen, and then she slowly nodded:: Aye. I loved me husband, bu' nae other English. Do wha' needs to be done, if it's in the best interest o' Eire. ::She had half a mind to write to her cousin as-
Kiley Ashmore: well and ask for help:: I know ye'll be discreet abou' it. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He thought about her comment and reached over gently to grab her arm. "Eire is only in meh highests interest. Listen... 'ave ye 'eard of 'The Phantom'?" This legend started some months ago. An assassin has been touring the fields
Emerald Urn: of Ireland killing it's citizens and striking at English generals. The Irish and the English deny that the killer is thiers, and both sides seem to be losing citizens over it.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Nae. ::Eyes widened as she watched him, then moved to her arm as he grabbed it and back up to his face:: Is this some sort o' menace? (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He paused, "Nae.... he kills Irishmen... and English soldiers. From what I knoo... the Irishmen he kills are only ablebodied men that refused tae serve Ireland and Ulster in it's time of need. Cowards... Rumor has it that he is a
Emerald Urn: General of Ulster that died... and that's why they call 'im the Phantom. But really... who believes in those stories... if anyone comes by... even Mairi, and asks fer 'im. Jus' tell them the stories are rubbish an' there is no
Emerald Urn: Phantom." He nodded and released her arm, looking down at the woodgrain of the table. He shouldn't have said anything.=-
Kiley Ashmore: If it's nae a phantom then wha' is it? ::She frowned, looking at him:: I don' believe in ghosts, bu' I do believe in killers. I think whoever it is mus' be puttin' on airs. Nae one gave him tha' particular duty, I am sure..either-
Kiley Ashmore: way 'tis a real person. ::She shook her head:: I won' be keepin' me eyes peeled, I'll look away. I'll tell them they're rubbish bu' only because I don' believe in ghosts. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=His eyes looked up at her with inquisition, "An' if they ask fer a killer around 'ere... what are ye goin' tae tell them eh?" Before she could answer he began to defend the Phantom, "No one asked fer 'im tae punish those
Emerald Urn: responsible fer the loss of Ireland... he does it because it's 'is duty... at least now the Irish people will have knoon that they can't reap English benefits, call themselves Irish, and get away with it at the same time."=-
Kiley Ashmore: I reaped English benefits because me husband was a Duke, bu' I am still Irish to the core. ::Her eyes narrowed:: If they come around askin' fer a killer I'll tell them the truth..tha' I know nothin', because I don'. Ye told me 'twas
Kiley Ashmore: bu' a rumor. I've nae seen any killers so far..an' even if I did I doubt they would advertise it on their bloody foreheads. ::An eyebrow rose:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He grinned slightly, "Aye... yer funny too. You'll be a welcome sight tae the Golden Harp. Dae ye still 'ave beds 'ere fer rent? I knoo previously they were used fer acts less morale than most, but I would like tae buy a room." He
Emerald Urn: changed the subject as fast as he could.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::She hadn't known that, and her eyes widened slightly, the anger vanishing from them:: They were? ::A soft blush was seen before she looked back up:: Well..everythin's clean now, an' yes there are still rooms upstairs. Twenny-four,
Kiley Ashmore: nae includin' mine. Yer welcome to one, everythin's always frequently washed. ::Her nose wrinkled at the thought of "less than morale" acts going on upstairs:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He chuckled and nodded, "Aye they were... donnae get surprised if yer asked by the local gentry to bed. This used to be a full service tavern if ye get meh drift. On the other note, do ye keep the door to the tavern locked at
Emerald Urn: night?" Quietly he reached into his tunic and pulled out a surprisingly large bag of coins.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::Kiley nodded:: Aye, I do. I know 'tis easy fer the English to break down a door, bu' when night falls I'd rather it weren' so easy fer them to get in as to simply turn a doorknob. ::In regards to what he'd previously said, she-
Kiley Ashmore: shook her head:: As long as I am nae propositioned, I don' care too much wha' goes on. I'll clean everythin'. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He frowned at the door being locked. "Alright... 'ere is a hefty back of coins... I need a way to get inside the tavern at ungodly hours of the night... so... I need a way tae reach ye."=-
Emerald Urn: -=He slid the pouch over and moved from the bar toward a table. The transaction was done, she would get back to him on it for sure. Once seated at the table, he adjusted his hood so that he could rest at peace, contemplating buying
Emerald Urn: a drink even though he already had one. Tonight he would be heading out to Skye, so he needed his wits about him.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::She nodded, taking the small pouch with another thoughtful frown:: I'll see tha' ye can get in. Are ye positive ye don' wan' anythin'? ::Even as she said this she looked back toward the kitchen and headed for the door; if she-
Kiley Ashmore: didn't see to her food it would burn:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He stood from the table and moved back toward the bar. "Actually a pint couldn't hurt! An' I'll buy one fer ye too if ye'd like!" He resumed his seat at the bar in eager anticipation for the drink that was to be coming. His hands
Emerald Urn: outstreched on the bar as he remembered the friends whom died, and how they used to celebrate here after minor victories. Those victories meant something then, but now... now they were pointless.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Ale? ::Before he could answer she had disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a basket of soda bread. She'd checked on the brisket and it was almost done. Slipping back behind the bar, her eyes scanned the shelves and she-
Kiley Ashmore: turned back to him, awaiting his response:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He nodded, "Aye, ale's a good one... anything that'll make the fingers feel fuzzy works."=-
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick lumbered in, a somewhat dazed look on his face. When the Irishman came in from battle, he was typically focused and angry, but now he seemed a bit bewildered. He liked the improvements being made about the tavern, and nodded
CarrickOfUlster: to a few of his men who were standing by th e door. The bearded warrior approached the bar, armed as always, with the diligent look of loyalty in his eye. It was well known that Carrick was a raid leader, successful at it, in
CarrickOfUlster: addition to being the Ceannfort's very own brother. Rumor had it he was busy recently, preparing for something spectacular. "Please, some whiskey," he asked. He tried to be patient but...he was Carrick. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: Yessir, jus' a moment. ::She stood on tiptoes to reach a bottle of dark ale, sliding that over to Collin along with a glass, taking the trouble to pour it for him as well. If he drained it and wanted more..well, that was what the-
Kiley Ashmore: bottle was for. Glancing up at the man who'd just walked in, she nodded to him, pulling down the bottle of whiskey and doing the same, passing it over, as well as a glass, and pouring the first one for him:: (d)
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick nodded in thanks and appraised the other man. He recognized him, set his jaw firmly in a way strictly reminiscent of his sister, and turned his eyes toward the tender. Both elbows were on the table, but one hand was within
CarrickOfUlster: reach of a sword. He was able to talk to women, at least, now that Seraphim was here. The recent memory of her beauty made him smile a bit to the tender. "I like what ye've done here, miss," he complimented, and accepted the
CarrickOfUlster: drink. It was consumed quickly enough, and he poured another for himself. "Will ye drink with me then? A toast to the Ceannfort? And what about ye?" he asked the man next to him as he raised his glass. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: Speakin' o' the Ceannfort, I need to talk to her at some point. ::This was remarked thoughtfully, more to herself than to the men. But when her ears registered the compliment she beamed, the simple smile causing her face to glow::
Kiley Ashmore: Thank ye. I have to see to the brisket an' bread in the kitchen, bu' I'll be out in a moment an' migh' have a drink then. ::Again she disappeared into the kitchen, delicious smells wafting out with the opening and closing of the-
Kiley Ashmore: door. It was obvious that with her constant bustling about, she was practically taking care of the place all by herself and was not pleased to sit around idly. She worked hard, and truly enjoyed what she did:: (d)
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick nodded with approval. It was a pleasant change to see an optimistic face around here. Though Kiley didn't know it, the Ceannfort was just as eager to speak with her--to see the Golden Harp again and call Dunluce home.
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick grinned, knowing it was getting there. He remained poised, for a toast. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: ::Kiley poked her head out for a second, and then came out from the room, reaching for the whiskey and a short glass, pouring some of the golden liquid for herself..though just enough to warm her belly without making her feel fuzzy.
Kiley Ashmore: She had stuff to do, couldn't be traipsing around halfwitted. A thought of what might happen if she did caused her to smile in some amusement, but then she looked up at Carrick and held her glass up:: To Mairi. (d)
CarrickOfUlster: "To Mairi," Carrick said faithfully, holding his glass in the air. Several other men in the room did the same. Some started to cheer for the Ceannfort. "It won't be long! It won't be long." Carrick promised them. Mircales happened.
CarrickOfUlster: Seraphim was back. Soon so would his sister be. He looked to Collin, with a nod. Would he raise that glass? (D)
Kiley Ashmore: ::She smiled, draining her glass of whiskey and setting it on the bartop. A quick glance around and she would move to cater to some of the other men. As aforesaid, she hated to sit idle. A couple of slices of brisket was brought out
Kiley Ashmore: on beer rye, the basket of soda bread still on the counter next to a vase of beautifully arranged roses and orchids::
Kiley Ashmore: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He waited for a long time, "Tae Mairi... God knoos she deserves it..." He slammed his drink as fast as he could, and wiped his mouth. His perifferals caught sight of whom the man was, and Collin knew thier re-united would not be
Emerald Urn: as warm as he would like them to be. Standing up, Collin made his way toward the fireplace, which had been barren this day because of the lack of chill. He did not want Carrick to know that he had an army, and it was ready to march
Emerald Urn: when need be. Frankly, that was for Mairi's ears only. However, he was sure Carrick would wonder what happened to all those Irish troops that fought at Dunluce, and Carrick was no dummy.=-
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick had been carefully orchestrating an attack with Jack Flynn. He was at least appeased that Collin toasted his sister, but a glare followed him. He poured a third drink and advanced somewhat aggressively towards the fire. "I'm
CarrickOfUlster: not lookin' fer a fight, General." Carrick was gruff in tone, and that was all he said. He was forced to be something of a diplomat in Mairi's absence, not that he liked it much. But he was honest, and blunt, dressed as a warrior in
CarrickOfUlster: plain clothing. Catching the scent of the fresh food--by gods, the woman had improved this place--Carrick was not quite tempted to turn his head and open himself up to a punch. As far as he was concerned, he and Collin had one thing
CarrickOfUlster: in common: they had both detested Sean O'Neill. Mairi's new admiral and consort was Flynn, and Carrick agreed with the choice, and had had a part in arranging it...hours of babysitting and letting the woman know it was fine to go
CarrickOfUlster: frolic with the man. All for Ulster. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: ::An eyebrow raised at the exchange between the men, but she said nothing. After all, she was running the place and had things to do..and none of this, whatever it was, was any of her business. A soft smile was given in response to
Kiley Ashmore: another compliment, and she went back and forth from liquor shelf to tables. After a moment though, she pressed her lips together, a strange expression crossing her face, and headed upstairs:: (d)
Emerald Urn: that he and so many of his men had humoured themselves in. He was interested in only a pint and maybe some bread of sorts. He was getting tired of the dried meat he carried in his sporran. Sliding off his horse, and tying it in the
Emerald Urn: small stable outside, he disarmed himself and marched inside the tavern, waving to those present before sitting down at the bar.=-
Emerald Urn: -=After having a drink and a small meal. He palced some extra coinage on the bar and smiled to the patrons present. He had a job he must tend to. The food here, however, was better than it had been so he was sure he would be back
Emerald Urn: once it was finished, but then something caught his eye. The decorations of the tavern changed slightly. Turning back he motioned for the barkeep, "Excuse me?"=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::Kiley looked up, pushing a few blonde curls from her face as doe-brown eyes registered the unfamiliar face. She smiled pleasantly, sliding out from behind the bar:: Aye? Is ther e somethin' I can be helpin' ye with, sir?
Kiley Ashmore: ::Wiping her clean hands on her clean apron more out of habit than anything else, she looked back at the kitchen, where anyone in the room would be able to smell a mouthwatering aroma..she was always cooking::
Kiley Ashmore: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He nodded lightly, a somewhat confused look was planted firmly on his face, "Aye... was there a sword above the threshold there when ye took the places management?" It was apparent by his tone that he was not making small talk on
Emerald Urn: the interior decorating of the place. He actually looked as if he had lost something.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::She pressed her lips together, thinking about that. Her bottom lip went into her mouth and she chewed on it for a second:: Ye know wha', there was. Is it yers, then? I'm sorry, I redecorated an'..well, it was placed in the back-
Kiley Ashmore: fer safekeepin', seein' as it wasn' mine. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He shook his head, "Nay nay... it wasn't mine. I was jus' makin' sure the Anglish didnae come back fer it. It belonged tae a General whom operated near Cobh, but Donough and I removed it from 'im. Jus' make sure ye keep it in
Emerald Urn: hidin' until Dunluce is not in their 'ands anymore." He nodded lightly and resumed a seat at the bar.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Cobh? ::Mention of that had her perking up, for she'd grown up there. Her parents had had a farm in that very village, small as it was:: I used to live there..bu' was in England fer a long time. I suppose if me aunt could write she-
Kiley Ashmore: would have told me of any English generals tryin' to seize the place or any places near it. ::Changing the subject though, she looked at him as she grabbed a towel and began wiping the bar:: Can I get ye anythin'?
Kiley Ashmore: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He shook his head. "Nah, but thank ye fer offerin'." He was quiet for a moment and then lifted his gaze toward hers. "I am Anglish... by blood not by belief. What is yer opinion of their control up in Ireland. Ya think it's wide
Emerald Urn: **wise
Emerald Urn: fer them to force Christianity or Monarchy on the clansmen?" This seemed to be more of a question of loyalty than anything. At least he was polite about it.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Nae, I don'. I'm pagan actually. Me husband was the Duke o' Suffolk. Me Clan married me off to him in exchange fer a peace treaty. As fer the monarchy..::Her face darkened:: I'm English by title, Irish by birth. I don' care fer the-
Kiley Ashmore: English way o' doin' things, meself. ::A slight shake of her head was given:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He nodded and leaned closer, making sure no one was listening. "Alright las... I need a favor from ye then. Do I 'ave yer permission tae use the Golden Harp as I once 'ad. A sanctuary for meh an' meh closest generals. I knoo it's
Emerald Urn: a lot tae ask. This place is one of the closest businesses tae Dunluce... an' if our raids are goin' tae work... then we could very well need it in the future."=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::A slight frown of thought could be seen, and then she slowly nodded:: Aye. I loved me husband, bu' nae other English. Do wha' needs to be done, if it's in the best interest o' Eire. ::She had half a mind to write to her cousin as-
Kiley Ashmore: well and ask for help:: I know ye'll be discreet abou' it. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He thought about her comment and reached over gently to grab her arm. "Eire is only in meh highests interest. Listen... 'ave ye 'eard of 'The Phantom'?" This legend started some months ago. An assassin has been touring the fields
Emerald Urn: of Ireland killing it's citizens and striking at English generals. The Irish and the English deny that the killer is thiers, and both sides seem to be losing citizens over it.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Nae. ::Eyes widened as she watched him, then moved to her arm as he grabbed it and back up to his face:: Is this some sort o' menace? (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He paused, "Nae.... he kills Irishmen... and English soldiers. From what I knoo... the Irishmen he kills are only ablebodied men that refused tae serve Ireland and Ulster in it's time of need. Cowards... Rumor has it that he is a
Emerald Urn: General of Ulster that died... and that's why they call 'im the Phantom. But really... who believes in those stories... if anyone comes by... even Mairi, and asks fer 'im. Jus' tell them the stories are rubbish an' there is no
Emerald Urn: Phantom." He nodded and released her arm, looking down at the woodgrain of the table. He shouldn't have said anything.=-
Kiley Ashmore: If it's nae a phantom then wha' is it? ::She frowned, looking at him:: I don' believe in ghosts, bu' I do believe in killers. I think whoever it is mus' be puttin' on airs. Nae one gave him tha' particular duty, I am sure..either-
Kiley Ashmore: way 'tis a real person. ::She shook her head:: I won' be keepin' me eyes peeled, I'll look away. I'll tell them they're rubbish bu' only because I don' believe in ghosts. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=His eyes looked up at her with inquisition, "An' if they ask fer a killer around 'ere... what are ye goin' tae tell them eh?" Before she could answer he began to defend the Phantom, "No one asked fer 'im tae punish those
Emerald Urn: responsible fer the loss of Ireland... he does it because it's 'is duty... at least now the Irish people will have knoon that they can't reap English benefits, call themselves Irish, and get away with it at the same time."=-
Kiley Ashmore: I reaped English benefits because me husband was a Duke, bu' I am still Irish to the core. ::Her eyes narrowed:: If they come around askin' fer a killer I'll tell them the truth..tha' I know nothin', because I don'. Ye told me 'twas
Kiley Ashmore: bu' a rumor. I've nae seen any killers so far..an' even if I did I doubt they would advertise it on their bloody foreheads. ::An eyebrow rose:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He grinned slightly, "Aye... yer funny too. You'll be a welcome sight tae the Golden Harp. Dae ye still 'ave beds 'ere fer rent? I knoo previously they were used fer acts less morale than most, but I would like tae buy a room." He
Emerald Urn: changed the subject as fast as he could.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::She hadn't known that, and her eyes widened slightly, the anger vanishing from them:: They were? ::A soft blush was seen before she looked back up:: Well..everythin's clean now, an' yes there are still rooms upstairs. Twenny-four,
Kiley Ashmore: nae includin' mine. Yer welcome to one, everythin's always frequently washed. ::Her nose wrinkled at the thought of "less than morale" acts going on upstairs:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He chuckled and nodded, "Aye they were... donnae get surprised if yer asked by the local gentry to bed. This used to be a full service tavern if ye get meh drift. On the other note, do ye keep the door to the tavern locked at
Emerald Urn: night?" Quietly he reached into his tunic and pulled out a surprisingly large bag of coins.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::Kiley nodded:: Aye, I do. I know 'tis easy fer the English to break down a door, bu' when night falls I'd rather it weren' so easy fer them to get in as to simply turn a doorknob. ::In regards to what he'd previously said, she-
Kiley Ashmore: shook her head:: As long as I am nae propositioned, I don' care too much wha' goes on. I'll clean everythin'. (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He frowned at the door being locked. "Alright... 'ere is a hefty back of coins... I need a way to get inside the tavern at ungodly hours of the night... so... I need a way tae reach ye."=-
Emerald Urn: -=He slid the pouch over and moved from the bar toward a table. The transaction was done, she would get back to him on it for sure. Once seated at the table, he adjusted his hood so that he could rest at peace, contemplating buying
Emerald Urn: a drink even though he already had one. Tonight he would be heading out to Skye, so he needed his wits about him.=-
Kiley Ashmore: ::She nodded, taking the small pouch with another thoughtful frown:: I'll see tha' ye can get in. Are ye positive ye don' wan' anythin'? ::Even as she said this she looked back toward the kitchen and headed for the door; if she-
Kiley Ashmore: didn't see to her food it would burn:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He stood from the table and moved back toward the bar. "Actually a pint couldn't hurt! An' I'll buy one fer ye too if ye'd like!" He resumed his seat at the bar in eager anticipation for the drink that was to be coming. His hands
Emerald Urn: outstreched on the bar as he remembered the friends whom died, and how they used to celebrate here after minor victories. Those victories meant something then, but now... now they were pointless.=-
Kiley Ashmore: Ale? ::Before he could answer she had disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a basket of soda bread. She'd checked on the brisket and it was almost done. Slipping back behind the bar, her eyes scanned the shelves and she-
Kiley Ashmore: turned back to him, awaiting his response:: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He nodded, "Aye, ale's a good one... anything that'll make the fingers feel fuzzy works."=-
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick lumbered in, a somewhat dazed look on his face. When the Irishman came in from battle, he was typically focused and angry, but now he seemed a bit bewildered. He liked the improvements being made about the tavern, and nodded
CarrickOfUlster: to a few of his men who were standing by th e door. The bearded warrior approached the bar, armed as always, with the diligent look of loyalty in his eye. It was well known that Carrick was a raid leader, successful at it, in
CarrickOfUlster: addition to being the Ceannfort's very own brother. Rumor had it he was busy recently, preparing for something spectacular. "Please, some whiskey," he asked. He tried to be patient but...he was Carrick. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: Yessir, jus' a moment. ::She stood on tiptoes to reach a bottle of dark ale, sliding that over to Collin along with a glass, taking the trouble to pour it for him as well. If he drained it and wanted more..well, that was what the-
Kiley Ashmore: bottle was for. Glancing up at the man who'd just walked in, she nodded to him, pulling down the bottle of whiskey and doing the same, passing it over, as well as a glass, and pouring the first one for him:: (d)
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick nodded in thanks and appraised the other man. He recognized him, set his jaw firmly in a way strictly reminiscent of his sister, and turned his eyes toward the tender. Both elbows were on the table, but one hand was within
CarrickOfUlster: reach of a sword. He was able to talk to women, at least, now that Seraphim was here. The recent memory of her beauty made him smile a bit to the tender. "I like what ye've done here, miss," he complimented, and accepted the
CarrickOfUlster: drink. It was consumed quickly enough, and he poured another for himself. "Will ye drink with me then? A toast to the Ceannfort? And what about ye?" he asked the man next to him as he raised his glass. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: Speakin' o' the Ceannfort, I need to talk to her at some point. ::This was remarked thoughtfully, more to herself than to the men. But when her ears registered the compliment she beamed, the simple smile causing her face to glow::
Kiley Ashmore: Thank ye. I have to see to the brisket an' bread in the kitchen, bu' I'll be out in a moment an' migh' have a drink then. ::Again she disappeared into the kitchen, delicious smells wafting out with the opening and closing of the-
Kiley Ashmore: door. It was obvious that with her constant bustling about, she was practically taking care of the place all by herself and was not pleased to sit around idly. She worked hard, and truly enjoyed what she did:: (d)
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick nodded with approval. It was a pleasant change to see an optimistic face around here. Though Kiley didn't know it, the Ceannfort was just as eager to speak with her--to see the Golden Harp again and call Dunluce home.
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick grinned, knowing it was getting there. He remained poised, for a toast. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: ::Kiley poked her head out for a second, and then came out from the room, reaching for the whiskey and a short glass, pouring some of the golden liquid for herself..though just enough to warm her belly without making her feel fuzzy.
Kiley Ashmore: She had stuff to do, couldn't be traipsing around halfwitted. A thought of what might happen if she did caused her to smile in some amusement, but then she looked up at Carrick and held her glass up:: To Mairi. (d)
CarrickOfUlster: "To Mairi," Carrick said faithfully, holding his glass in the air. Several other men in the room did the same. Some started to cheer for the Ceannfort. "It won't be long! It won't be long." Carrick promised them. Mircales happened.
CarrickOfUlster: Seraphim was back. Soon so would his sister be. He looked to Collin, with a nod. Would he raise that glass? (D)
Kiley Ashmore: ::She smiled, draining her glass of whiskey and setting it on the bartop. A quick glance around and she would move to cater to some of the other men. As aforesaid, she hated to sit idle. A couple of slices of brisket was brought out
Kiley Ashmore: on beer rye, the basket of soda bread still on the counter next to a vase of beautifully arranged roses and orchids::
Kiley Ashmore: (d)
Emerald Urn: -=He waited for a long time, "Tae Mairi... God knoos she deserves it..." He slammed his drink as fast as he could, and wiped his mouth. His perifferals caught sight of whom the man was, and Collin knew thier re-united would not be
Emerald Urn: as warm as he would like them to be. Standing up, Collin made his way toward the fireplace, which had been barren this day because of the lack of chill. He did not want Carrick to know that he had an army, and it was ready to march
Emerald Urn: when need be. Frankly, that was for Mairi's ears only. However, he was sure Carrick would wonder what happened to all those Irish troops that fought at Dunluce, and Carrick was no dummy.=-
CarrickOfUlster: Carrick had been carefully orchestrating an attack with Jack Flynn. He was at least appeased that Collin toasted his sister, but a glare followed him. He poured a third drink and advanced somewhat aggressively towards the fire. "I'm
CarrickOfUlster: not lookin' fer a fight, General." Carrick was gruff in tone, and that was all he said. He was forced to be something of a diplomat in Mairi's absence, not that he liked it much. But he was honest, and blunt, dressed as a warrior in
CarrickOfUlster: plain clothing. Catching the scent of the fresh food--by gods, the woman had improved this place--Carrick was not quite tempted to turn his head and open himself up to a punch. As far as he was concerned, he and Collin had one thing
CarrickOfUlster: in common: they had both detested Sean O'Neill. Mairi's new admiral and consort was Flynn, and Carrick agreed with the choice, and had had a part in arranging it...hours of babysitting and letting the woman know it was fine to go
CarrickOfUlster: frolic with the man. All for Ulster. (d)
Kiley Ashmore: ::An eyebrow raised at the exchange between the men, but she said nothing. After all, she was running the place and had things to do..and none of this, whatever it was, was any of her business. A soft smile was given in response to
Kiley Ashmore: another compliment, and she went back and forth from liquor shelf to tables. After a moment though, she pressed her lips together, a strange expression crossing her face, and headed upstairs:: (d)