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(P) Dinner
Topic Started: Wed Sep 29, 2004 10:36 pm (294 Views)
Lamya
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Lamya walked in the tavern and sat at the nearest table. The barkeeper came over and asked what she'd like to drink. "I'll have a glass of ale and I'll go ahead and order for my friend. He'll take ale too." She tapped her fingers lightly on the table while she waited for their drinks. It was pretty silent for awhile. Lamya was deep in thought about everything that was going on. She considered her behavior to be the after effect of some sort of spell. The wizard elf obviously had done something to her and she just had to figure out what. She sighed as the barkeeper brought their drinks. "Thanks." Whoa she had never said thanks before. She shook her head at the barkeeper's grin. She sipped her drink while she tried to think of something to get her mind off of herself.
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir took the ale. He was once the barkeeper at this tavern, but had never been abl to touch the drink to his lips. The drink was warming to the parched Drow. He knew his mannars though, and didn't chug the mug in all one drink. He slowly sipped the drink and then places it on the table.

Images of what happened in the church started to flood his mind. The pain and anguish the he saw in Lamya bothered him too much not to bring it up, as much as he didn't want to. "So what exactly, if it doesn't pain you too much, happened back at the church?"
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Lamya
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Lamya was startled to hear Shy speak so suddenly. She almost spit out her drink but was able to swallow it before answering. "Well I had a flashback. It was of the man that put this aweful spell on me. I had visions of him talking about...my parents." She choked up a little and swallowed tears before going on. "He said that they....that they...hated me."She cast her eyes to the ground. "Anyways it's nothing. Don't worry about it." She forced a smile. She wasn't sure if she were ready to tell Shy that he had also said he was sent to kill her.
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir could tell that Lamya was having slight trouble opening up to him. Maybe he was not opening up enough about himself. "I have a similar story to tell, one not quite as bad, but with similar points. If you would like to hear about it," he left it at that, letting Lamya fill in the blank. He hoped to share the burden of her pain.
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Lamya
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((I thought I replied to this...hmmmm :blink: ))

She turned her head towards Shy. "Well first why don't we order dinner?" She raised her hand into the air and waved the barmaid over to them. "Yes what would you like ma'am?" Lamya looked around to see what everyone else was eating. Her stomach growled loudly. "I will have new potatoes with a slight touch of butter and italian bread. And can you please re-fill my glass." She smiled as the woman wrote it down on a small piece of parchment. "And for you sir?"
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Shynthriir
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OOC: You mean my story? I don't remember, but I have a well written and longer version I will tell this time.

Shynthriir didn't actually know what the Tavern served. He was used to killing and cooking his own food. He didn't want to seem like a fool and quickly said, "I'll have the same."

Once the waitress was gone he looked to Lamya and asked, "What is ittalian bread? I have never heard of it, though I don't eat at a tavern often either."
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Lamya
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Lamya giggled. "It is simply an italian type of bread. It's usually seasoned with vinegar and garlic powder. I believe you will like it." She chewed on a piece of ice while she waited for her re-fill. Finally the barmaid appeared again and filled her glass. After that Lamya sat there waiting for Shy to begin his story. She didn't want to push him into it because frankly, she wasn't looking forward to telling her own story. She had never opened up to someone enough. In fact she'd never opened up to anyone at all.

((Nah just tell a short version I guess lol))
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir took another sip of his ale, this one longer than the first few he took. He had told his story many times and could tell it as short or long as he liked. He decided to make it long, not too long, but long enough to calm the nerves of Lamya for Shynthriir sensed that something was deeply troubling her.

"I was born a Drow. Who or what the Drow are is beyond me. I was abandoned as a child, left in a forest to live my life as best I could. It was hard, for I was but a young boy, but I, with some luck, somehow managed and lived my life.

"I lived in those woods for many countless years. I killed what I ate, slept where I could find shelter, I lived on my own.

"Only but a few weeks ago, maybe a month now actually, did I leave my forest. I have hopes and dreams of finding my parents and leaning the reasons why they left me. I know not where to start because I know so little of my people, and when I ask others, they run because of my dark skin."

It pained Shynthriir to retell his story, but knew that the more he told it, the closer to answers he would become.
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Lamya
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Lamya didn't want to see the pain in his eyes so she looked away. "Life has a way of beating you down when you're already on the ground." She took a big gulp of her drink and started her story.

"When I was a child, everything that could go wrong, went wrong. My parents hated me. My mother had intercourse with strangers for money, and my father was a theif. A horrible combination. It wasn't long before I took on the same 'job' as my father. It helped pass the time and it kept me away from the house more. It seemed that was the only time my father ever really cared about me. I would show him what I had stolen for the day and for a few seconds, his eyes would show what I thought was love. I was wrong. He began to stay away more and more. And I began to steal more and better. I became very skillful."

"One day a plague swept through the town. I was away that day, in another city stealing from some very rich man that owned the whole city. When I came home, my parents were gone and the news of the plague reached my ears. I immediately thought they were dead. It didn't really bother me for a long while, until a man started showing up everywhere. Now he was an elf from my town, which seemed impossible because everyone was supposed to have died. And now, he hunts for me in some twisted way. Apparently he knew my parents or perhaps knows them now. He stated that he has come to ..kill me."

Lamya fell silent and started at the ugly wooden table. It had several scratches in it and obvously hadn't been polished in a long time. Finally she brought her eyes up as the barmaid delivered their food.
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir looked down at his food and smelled all the new smeells of the new flavors and tastes. The smell made his realise how hungry he wasn and he was quick to start eating the italian bread, his mouth watering from the good taste.

Lamya had shared her story and it had touched him deeply. He wanted to do something for her, but didn't know what to do. He thought back to when he saw the man she was speaking of at the end of her story. He needed to think of who he was, what he looked like.

Without finishing chewing his bit of the bread he suddenly proclaimed, "A scar!!" Shynthriir quickly cleaned up the crumbs that left his mouth and his fast turned alightly redish.
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Lamya
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"What? That can't be.Surely you were mistaking." Lamya hadn't even touched her food. If Shy really had seen a scar, then Lamya needed to go into hiding quickly. There was only one person she knew of with a scar from her homeland. Lamya turned her eyes to Shy. "Tell me if he had a scar." Her eyes glazed over and for a few minutes her mind ticked away all the ways she would die if it really was the person she was thinking of.
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir knew that he had remembered just the right thing. He didn't want to pain her by telling her that it might be the person she truely feared, but he knew he would have to tell her for her own safety. "Yes, he had a scar." Shynthriir continued to think back in his thoughts to the axact moment. The man looked Shynthriir dead in the eyes before he ran off into the dark allies. "A scar and something shinning on his left, no wait, I was facing him so it was his right ear; posibly an earring?"
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Lamya
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My worst fear has come true. The silver mark of Ashanar. Why would he be after me? What could I possibly have that he needs? Why is he still alive? All these questions roamed through Lamya's mind. "The worst has come to be." She moved her plate and laid her head on the table. For a few moments she didn't speak and hardly breathed. What was she going to do?
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Shynthriir
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((OOC: Nice sword))

Shynthriir didn't know the man, but knew that she did. His next actions where purely automatic and he didn't realise what he was doing until after he had done what he did.

Shynthriir got up from his seat and moved to join Lamya in her's, the one across from him. His left arm wrapped around her and he tried to comfort her. He let her take in the pain and once he felt she would reply to any of his questions he asked, "Who, or what, is this person? Is there any possible way I can help?"

Shynthriir didn't know if he would be any help in this case, but he felt that he should offer. If she required his help, he would surely give it to her; whatever she needed him to do.
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Lamya
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Lamya flinched for a moment as she felt Shy's arms go around her shoulders. She was not used to the feeling of someone touching her. Soon her muscles relaxed and she allowed his warmth to cover her own cold body. "He is a murderer, a powerful wizard that practices black magic. I don't know what I can do." It was then that she remembered something. "Wait. When I was under his spell I remember him saying something about a demonic sword. Perhaps that is the way to kill him! Will you help me find it?" She turned her eyes to his.


(Sorry this is soooo late. :unsure: )
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