Amergin and Sisterknight continued to play lively tunes, as Lady LeeLee and MacDonnchaidh continued to dance. But even this young pair tired after a while, and they sat down to their tankards for some rest and refreshment.
"I don't want to impose on someone who's had such a tiring journey milady," said Amergin to the lady by the fire, "but since you seem to have dried out, and I suppose you've been tuning that instrument toward some purpose, perhaps it's time for a slow air?"
Amergin placed his harp back in its case, took a sip from his drink and smiled affably. "Or not, unless you're so inclined. Music isn't worth much when it's forced, is it?"
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I am a stag: of seven tines, I am a flood: across a plain, I am a wind: on a deep lake, I am a tear: the Sun lets fall, I am a hawk: above the cliff, I am a thorn: beneath the nail, I am a wonder: among flowers, I am a wizard: who but I Sets the cool head aflame with smoke?
I am a spear: that roars for blood, I am a salmon: in a pool, I am a lure: from paradise, I am a hill: where poets walk, I am a boar: ruthless and red, I am a breaker: threatening doom, I am a tide: that drags to death, I am an infant: who but I Peeps from the unhewn dolmen, arch?
I am the womb: of every holt, I am the blaze: on every hill, I am the queen: of every hive, I am the shield: for every head, I am the tomb: of every hope.
gtrplr wandered by the pub, head bowed low, with aching feet and back and tired to the bone. For just a moment he thought he heard a tune from within and thought about going inside for a dram. After a moment's reflection, he opened the door and entered.
Not seeing anyone he knew, he shook his head sadly. It had been far too long since he'd been here. Perhaps another day he'd come back with his guitar and join the music and dancing and make some new friends. Perhaps.
But not today. Too tired, too many aches, not enough rest. The music would have to wait for another day.
He turned and left without a backward glance, but with a soft smile at the thought that in this world, with all it's troubles, there was still a place where music could lighten hearts and bring joy both to player and listener.
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Randal Smith alias Smitty the Kid Wielder of the Six-String Claymore!
"We have enough Youth, how about a Fountain of Smart?" "When the going gets tough, the smart go fishing!"
Amergin raised his eyes as the door opened. A weary looking traveler squinted into the semi-darkness, sighed and closed the door, leaving the pub quiet and nearly lifeless.
Amergin wondered where the music had gone, what had happened to the wombat who once danced for a bowl of ale, to the lively bodhrán player who had burst in so boisterously, to the sounds of guitar and fiddle and flute that had once moved dancing feet, but now lay silent.
There was life once here, he thought, but it seems dormant now. I tried to reanimate it, but perhaps some things are beyond even the power of the bard. Perhaps they will come back. I hope so. It's a hard life on the road. I had hoped for some small comfort of human contact here. Now I wonder.
Aye, thank you!! Slaite!!!! I overheard that this place tends to fill up during the Winter Months, when people seek shelter from the snow storms & howling winds. Perhaps, that is the time to return?
Yea! I'm so excited to see my old Avatar has come back to me!!!! Last time I was on CR it wasn't there! Thanks Mac! I missed my old Avatar. I'm so boring I have never changed it in all these years!
Welcome back to the pub Annabelle. I'm fairly new here myself, compared to these locals, but it's an enjoyable place and we hope to see it revived as a place of hospitality and conviviality. As you may be able to tell, I'm a bit of a poet and a bard, which may help explain the flowery language.
Perkeo had been gone for some time. It felt like an eternity to him. He was in the mood for some drink, song and friends. As soon as he stepped off the ship he knew exactly where he wanted to go.
He walked into the pub and ordered a dram of rum. Mind if I sit in the corner and sing and drum a little?
He took a long sip of the rum and picked a stool near the corner stage area sat down took another sip of rum. Took out his bodhrán and beater. Thought for a second then smiled.
Finding the right beat on his bodhrán he began to sing.
In days of old in a kingdom bold, there lived a fearsome dragon. And the King he was in great distress and the countries spirits flagoned. Until one day there came a knight, he was handsome, bold, and charming. And he slew the dragon with his sword with a smile that was so disarming. With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, a smile that was so disarming.
Said the King I wish to know your name, but the knight said do not bother. For the name of a knight of the realm says he, is the same as any other. Said the King tonight in my daughter's bed you shall take your leisure. And she'll reward you for your deed, with a night of exhausting pleasure. With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, anight of exhausting pleasure.
One daughter she had raven hair, a maiden young and chaste. And she slept all night in the pale moonlight, naked to the waist. The other daughter she was fair, the fairest in the town. And she slept all night in the pale moonlight naked from her small waist down. With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, naked from her small waist down.
Well the knight he spends many hour behind the castle wall. But the ending to my story dear, isn't what it seems at all. For in neither bed of neither maid was he repaid for his glory. But he slept all night with the King instead for this is a fairy story. With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, for this is a Fairy story.
"Welcome Perkeo!" quoth the bard still seated by the fire, gathering dust and cobwebs, "And a hearty welcome to life and laughter and lively tunes in this place once again."
"The drum and the tune I mind not a bit," continued the bard, puffing on a long-stemmed pipe, "but I must admit, I do look askance at a rum-swilling scalawag bouncing in here so brash and bold."
He winked at the drummer and puffed a bit more on his pipe. "Though I do see you are an honorable practitioner of the bodhrán, and a hurler as well, so perhaps it's not as bad as all that."
Amergin ordered another round of fine whiskey for himself and rum for the bouncy newcomer, who had once frequented these walls more than at present.
It had been more than a long year and a day since that door last opened, when the lovely Lady Leelee hoped for some conviviality during the cold winter months. A second winter come and gone, and now the first buds of spring bid welcome to some new life in the old gathering place at the crossroads. One looks forward to more of the same.
HRiding up to the sables,the lnn sounds quite. I hope myroom is aivable as I have been away for solong. openign the door,Hamm my key please. Iam back from far away lands.
Ah, thank ye for the welcome and rum. Pirating is just a hobby to pay for the rum. He smiled as he raised his mug then took a drink. I've been too long at sea and need to find some time to get me land legs back and there's no finer way then to spend time in this fine establishment. I hope to stay a bit longer this time.
Hurling season has just started and I'm looking forward to getting back on the pitch. Next to being in here with fine friends and drink, there's nothing quite like being outside on the pitch smacking around the sliotar with the ash.
Hopefully we can get this place livened back up and back to the glory it once was.
"Well, we have a kilted Celt and a hurling pirate now, that should liven things up." thought the bard, as he puffed on his pipe and looked on with anticipation. "Now we hope for the musicians and dancers who once enlivened this place, perhaps even the wombat and the others who came here for conversation and conviviality. May it be."
The tall stranger nudged a bit closer to the fire and relit his pipe, feeling the cold wind in Perkeo's poetry. "Nice to have a warm hearth and the company of friends," he said, to nobody in particular. "Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin, the Irish say. There's no fireplace like your own fireplace. But a cozy fire in a friendly pub is the next best thing."
He began to play softly on his beloved harp, staring thoughtfully into the fire.
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