Post by ShadowCatJen on Oct 27, 2006 16:16:30 GMT -5
Mynian's nose wrinkled as she looked at some wreckage that used to be a building. In the dim light of just after sunset she could see what might had been a chair for child or a hin. A quiet grunt passed her lips and she moved off to head for the one bastion of civilization left in Arabel.
She looked about the inside of the well worn tavern as she waited for a bit of ale to be served up to her. All about at the tables were some Cormyrian soldiers who had recently come off their lengthy day shift. They looked bedraggled and tired. Exhausted from the constant pressing of attacks, just trying to keep some hold of what was a once great city.
Mynian felt tired just by looking at them. The haunting thought of any one of them dying for simply not having the energy to fight properly made her gut twitch and she found herself unslinging the yarting from behind her back.
As she began to tune it she noted a few soldiers looking at her curiously, almost hopefully. To one she gave a light grin and a wink. He immediately sat up from his slumped position, and looked a little more lively.
"Come now, lads!" she called out garnering more attention. "Tha drink be there ta make yeh merry not drown yeh sorrows in it! Yeh still got a ways ta go, me dears, 'n now ain't tha time ta back down."
A few more sat up some, though a couple only glowered more. She began to play a somewhat familiar melody on the yarting and more smiles appeared.
"Do yeh really want ta 'ave orcish warsongs lull yeh children ta sleep at night?"
A few scattered "Nays" and shaking of heads occurred.
"Do yeh really want ta see them take whot yeh've been fighin' for?"
Stronger this time the response sounded, "Nay!"
"Do yeh really want ta see any other flag then tha' o' tha Purple Dragon flyin' o'er Arabel?"
"Nay!" The soldiers and others called out more unified.
"Then yeh lads know what ta do, aye?"
"Aye!"
And with that Mynian struck up the song, leading as many joined in:
Drink, me lads, drink and never give over
Drink until yeh canno' drink no more
For tha Orc men be comin' fer a fresh supply
And they swear they'll drink lil' Cormyr dry!
They may come ta try they chance
But we'll teach them a new-fashioned dance
For we'll pepper they jackets and they armor will fry
Afore they'll drink lil' Cormyr dry!
They may come as they may think
But they shall fight afore they drink
Our swords shall rattle and arrows shall fly
Afore they'll drink lil' Cormyr dry!
Sooooo drink, me lads drink! And never give over
Drink until yeh canno' drink no more
For tha Orc man's brags be all me eye
And they'll never drink lil' Cormyr dry!
A rousing cheer rose up as the song ended and she took up her ale mug to gulp down some.
"Ahhhh, tha's tha spirit, lads!"
Through the rest of the eve she played, doing her best to keep the soldier's spirits up.
She looked about the inside of the well worn tavern as she waited for a bit of ale to be served up to her. All about at the tables were some Cormyrian soldiers who had recently come off their lengthy day shift. They looked bedraggled and tired. Exhausted from the constant pressing of attacks, just trying to keep some hold of what was a once great city.
Mynian felt tired just by looking at them. The haunting thought of any one of them dying for simply not having the energy to fight properly made her gut twitch and she found herself unslinging the yarting from behind her back.
As she began to tune it she noted a few soldiers looking at her curiously, almost hopefully. To one she gave a light grin and a wink. He immediately sat up from his slumped position, and looked a little more lively.
"Come now, lads!" she called out garnering more attention. "Tha drink be there ta make yeh merry not drown yeh sorrows in it! Yeh still got a ways ta go, me dears, 'n now ain't tha time ta back down."
A few more sat up some, though a couple only glowered more. She began to play a somewhat familiar melody on the yarting and more smiles appeared.
"Do yeh really want ta 'ave orcish warsongs lull yeh children ta sleep at night?"
A few scattered "Nays" and shaking of heads occurred.
"Do yeh really want ta see them take whot yeh've been fighin' for?"
Stronger this time the response sounded, "Nay!"
"Do yeh really want ta see any other flag then tha' o' tha Purple Dragon flyin' o'er Arabel?"
"Nay!" The soldiers and others called out more unified.
"Then yeh lads know what ta do, aye?"
"Aye!"
And with that Mynian struck up the song, leading as many joined in:
Drink, me lads, drink and never give over
Drink until yeh canno' drink no more
For tha Orc men be comin' fer a fresh supply
And they swear they'll drink lil' Cormyr dry!
They may come ta try they chance
But we'll teach them a new-fashioned dance
For we'll pepper they jackets and they armor will fry
Afore they'll drink lil' Cormyr dry!
They may come as they may think
But they shall fight afore they drink
Our swords shall rattle and arrows shall fly
Afore they'll drink lil' Cormyr dry!
Sooooo drink, me lads drink! And never give over
Drink until yeh canno' drink no more
For tha Orc man's brags be all me eye
And they'll never drink lil' Cormyr dry!
A rousing cheer rose up as the song ended and she took up her ale mug to gulp down some.
"Ahhhh, tha's tha spirit, lads!"
Through the rest of the eve she played, doing her best to keep the soldier's spirits up.