. ..
"Let us be what we are and speak what we think,
and in all keep ourselves loyal to the just meaning of friendship..."
Tavern Keeper Lady FatalSnare, 1997
Upon Entering the Tavern
The Voice of Lady FatalSnare
A Tribute to Lady Fatalsnare, By Lady SteelThunder
A Dedication to DreamScythe
A Sad Farewell, By DarkFire
A Tribute to Lady SteelThunder
A Tribute to Damon Correy
You walk through the doorway of this tavern, baronial and colonial in design with gables and dormer-windows everywhere. Nooks and crannies and two huge carved chimney- pieces with fires blazing in their hearths , add pleasant atmosphere. Above one mantle the image of a falcon carved in wood, and underneath the inscription, with a date, "All good things come to those who will but wait." Over the other great hearth a portrait of Lord DreamScythe and the Lady Fatalsnare and beside it another of Bloodbane's Family. Flames cast shadows on wainscot and wall and bronze the rafters overhead, painting with a livelier red the tavern's coat-of-arms, and crowning the sombre clock. Mirrors glisten and brasses shine. You pause taking in the scene and listen to the merriment around you, and the smell of delicious food of age old refining, wafts through the air.
As you cross the room,
you see many people of many races and professions, and creatures that you have never seen
the likes of before, mingling and conversing with each other. Though from different lands
and speech, each had a tale to tell, and each was anxious to be pleased and please. Before
one blazing fire of wood, at their ease, sits a small group of people, surrounding the
tavern bard. The instrument on which he played was fashioned of maple and pine, by a great
master of the past. Exquisite in its design, and perfect in each minutest part. By the
magic of his art he soothes the lute. The sweet music flows through the air and resonates
off the ancient walls, making the very air ebb as though it were alive.
An old man sits next to the bard, a storyteller of many thousands of tales. A clamour for a tale is heard and although a bashful man ordinarily, his passion for tales is obvious. As one who from a volumne reads he spake of heroes and their deeds, of lands and cities that he had seen. He quietly and unassumedly whispers his legacy to adult and child alike, and in each of his listener's glazed eyes, a sparkle glints as though enchanted in a dream.
A bellowing laugh catches your attention and you glance across to the other side of the room. You see a stout, balding bartender holding his very well fed belly and shaking with laughter. You grin as you watch this fellow, you just know he's going to have character.
The buxom Barkeep stands at the end of the bar, laughing in jest and flirting with the man she's talking to. She glances over to the bard on occasion, with a glint in her eye, and a wicked smile. You notice the bard return the same look frequently. You figure there has to be some sort of connection here. She flits from one customer to another, seemingly in a constant state of work. You chuckle slightly as you see many of the men patrons glancing at her. She obviously has a certain charm about her as she holds each enthralled with a simple twist of her hips and a low, teasing bow each time she leans over a table to clear it. As she walks by, you suddenly realise that you've been staring at her as she winks to you and smiles a smile that could snare the soul of a monk. Quickly you turn to look elsewhere across the far side of the tavern.
A lady that could be described as the definition of grace and
finesse sits at a table in the corner sipping wine. The light from the torches and the
fire glints off of her eyes as she regards the room with a cool, calm gaze. A woman of
beauty, her delicate face, framed by dark hair. She has an air of one well travelled and
one certainly capable of fending for herself. Her eyes meet yours as she holds the gaze,
seemingly recording each detail. A man also sitting at her table opposite her breaks the
stare. He slaps her playfully on the wrist and she jumps slightly, startled at his
actions. She laughs and nods to you your welcome as she turns and resumes her conversation
with him.
You regard the man with curious eyes. His jet-black hair falls freely down the centre of his back. His face holds features of that of a foreigner, but of a race you've never before seen. A strange gauntlet hangs at his side, and his helmet rests on the chair next to him. You know instantly he would be one not to trifle with. He laughs with the lady sitting in front of him at jokes that seem only known to them. Every now and again he pauses and lifts his Holy Tankard and mutters some sort of prayer over his ale. Then his attention turns to the buxom barwench...."Witch!"......he hollers. "An ale....and be quick about ye." He grins mischieviously.
You glance once again toward the bar, and see another lady looking over the room with questioning eyes. A warrior of sorts she seems to be, dressed in shining armour, her sword at her side. She looks at you with steel grey eyes, and a locked jaw that sets a tone of danger about her. You can see that she is well experienced in fighting, and feel a hint of pity for any who might challenge her status. She watches the room with a protective gaze as her hands flick through a deck of cards. Every now and again she sends one spinning across the tavern. She growls low as she does this, as if in a warning. The person picks up the card at his feet and reads it. Newfound respect can be seen in his eyes, as he nods in understanding back to her.
A man walks up to you and asks if you would care for a drink, a strange one this one. He appears to be merely a barhand of sorts, but his padded clothing suggests that he keeps things hidden away from prying eyes. As he turns away, you catch a glint of steel from inside his tunic. This one appears to be more than he lets on. He glances around certain members of the tavern fondly.
A blast of cold air snakes it way down your spine as the door behind you opens. As you move to let the lady pass, you notice a strange air about her, as though it were one of nobility of sorts. You shrug it off as she walks by you and heads for the table with the lady and the foreigner and sits. You figure she must be a regular as the barhand instantly arrives by her side, greeting her with a bow and handing her a drink without her so much as signalling for one.
You
finally decide to quench your thirst and head towards the bar. As you do so, the bartender
shouts from the bar. "Aye friend, you would be
liken a drink 'ere to revive that parched throat of yers I see... ahh... please.. take a
look at this 'ere menu and jus' 'oller when ya know what ye be want'n."
You immerse yourself in the menu and attempt to choose something that might be to your liking from the array of exotic choices on the list. After a few moments, you signal to the bartender and he walks over to you drying his hand on a towel.
"Aye neighbour, and what might ye be want'n?" He bellows with a grin, as he stands not three feet away from you.
From Tavern Bloodbane glows a light,
Attracting travellers noon and night,
Stopping under the great oaks that throw,
Tangles of light and shade below.
As ancient is this hostelry,
As any in this land might be.
Built with care and a loving hand,
From the visions of a Dream does it stand.
The firelight sheds over all,
And dances on the oaken walls.
The splendour of its ruddy glow,
Fills the parlour large and low.
A pleasant murmur fills the ear,
Like water rushing through a weir.
Laughter music and loud applause,
Followed by an intermittent pause.
Friends and Foe from all around,
To this wayside inn come now.
The buxom Barkeep her eyes a glaze,
Fondly looks through the smoky haze.
In outline she sketches them all,
Their shadowy semblances on the wall.
The Poet Pegasus there whose verse,
Was tender, musical and sometimes terse.
DreamScythe with his lute did stand,
Crafted by an artist's hand.
And when he played 'twas such a sound,
The hunted stag forgot to bound.
Lady Fatal moves as if in a trance,
Allured by the music and starts to dance.
A Tawny Owl in the rafters alights,
In search of prey he bids goodnight.
A Mighty knight armoured well,
To Maidens ears his battles he did tell.
MacGuffin a jack of all trades in thought,
At the arduous task of an emblem sought.
The Tavern Guard tall and proud,
Wrapped in steel she stood her ground.
A challenge to evil, she freely sort,
Culling her enemy with the steel she wrought.
A fearsome Warrion grinned and spoke,
His sinews supple and strong as oak.
Ladies Avalon and Sildarien in cloak and hood,
Sipped their wine and by the fire stood.
Lord Noctern humbly bows,
As Megg and Summerain join the crowd.
A wanderer who DayTrips around,
Drops by often whence in town.
By the hearth a WhiteTiger lay,
Softly purring the words she would say.
Farsight stands his wings a spread,
A glorious sight and greatly revered.
Nightwolf slinks in from his nightly prowl,
And sings to the moon with an eerie howl.
The Bard sits upon his seat,
Watching his lady his heart would beat.
The barkeep Takagne laughs "Ye be glad,
She's got it in fer ya m'lad".
Birds and Creatures and all who abide,
Are warmed by the tavern its spirit alive.
Rekindled at last by all who share,
Fellowship of fire and a tankard of Beer,
FatalSnare smiles for she be blessed,
She looks at all the tavern guests,
Then in a sudden her feet leave the floor,
Swept into the arms of the Bard she adores.
A Tribute to the
Lady Fatalsnare,
From a Friend Though Seperated from Afar, Shall Never be Forgotten.
The Honourable and Valient Lady Steelthunder:
There is this woman...
My wish for her is the evergreen beauty
Of an eldritch forest, the sweetness of life,
The gentle dream on a velvety, purple pillow,
The calmness of a soft, living dusk.
My desire for her is the tender gentleness
Of friendship, the support, the comfort
Of simpleness and the happiness that
Sometimes finds you if you sit real still.
My hope for her is for the surrounding safety
Of half-whispered nothings, the quiet touch
Of a companion found somewhere in the future,
And the joy such companionship brings.
My prayer for her is all of these,
Her wish,
Her desire,
Her hope,
Her prayer,
And maybe her dreams also.
TavernGuard SteelThunder,
Protector Primus of Tavern Bloodbane, '97
As if in a dream this all turned around
And you came back to be with me again
Back to what we both held dear
The bard and his barwench reunited
Love and laughter and tears did we share
For one night the circle was complete
And what was lost was once more found
Now if I close my eyes
Take my time
I can almost feel your touch
If I close my eyes
And drift away
I can almost feel your lips on mine
If I close my eyes
I can see us back there smiling
Blessed Be Dreamy
Fatal
Sept 97
A Sad
Farewell..
for DreamScythe, ShadowHeart and SteelThunder
A night as any other
Firelight in the eyes of all
Each with smile on their face
And laughter in the hall
A piece of many died that night
As two left us behind
And we may only wait and weep
And keep them in our mind
The first a man of mighty words
His strength the power of song
Where moments before, he warmed the hearth
That nothing could be wrong
His four legged fellow
Companion of heart
A resolute friend, firm and fast
And now we sigh, think of days now gone by
For a piece of us died in the past
The thunder of Steel rang loud
As shaft pierced plate straight and true
And left us to stare, shocked straight to the core
Again, with a night left to rue
Now each we can hope, Can stand spirits proud
In a realm to which we all come
And even though we tremble with rage
And a part of our soul feels numb
We stand and strive on
With our hands o'er our hearts
And recall each in thoughts of our love
And commend them, with care
To the makers we share
In a place of bright light, far above.
Darkfire,
Prince of Yale, Bloodbane family member, 14th Sep 97
A Tribute to Lady SteelThunder
Protector Primus Bloodbane Tavern
from sister Fatalsnare
When A Loved One's Gone
Those we love remain with us,
For love itself lives on.
And cherished memories
Never fade because a loved one is gone
Those we love can never
Be more than a thought apart
For as long as there is memory
They will live on in our heart.
To mourn for those we love
Is self indulgent,
But to honour their memory
With a promise to live life a little better
For having known them
Gives purpose to their lives
And some reason for their death
I have been blessed
For having known such a Soul
As Sister Mine
Who captured mine heart
And gave me the greatest gift
Her Friendship
And even in Death that bond
Will never be broken.
Blessed be
Fatal
Sept 97.
Bloodbane tavern didn't quite know what hit them the first day that Damon Correy crossed the threshold. His presence caused a stir as we sat and tried to figure this diverse character out. His humour quickly won most of us over, some never broke the surface with him. He loved his ale and the ladies well, and never failed in that area to do justice to them both.
He was one that you loved, or you loved to hate, there was
no in between. He spake the truth, no matter who it offended, and sometimes his words
would cut quicker than his sword. He had no regard it seemed for kings and earls, his
loyalties lay with his friends, and with the tavern, and he would defend them to the
bitter end. His death makes us aware of how thin a thread we hold on to. I will miss
him...his vitality and the carefree spirit he was, will live on.
Titles:
First Knight of ShadowHall Served the Lord ShadowWeaver.
A member of the Warrior group that Protected Camelot the group was the StoneBrothers.
BodyGuard to DarkKnight..High Knight of Camelot
Grand Admiral of the Armada of Chaos his Lord DreamScythe
Knight of Morarth his Lord Swordsman
These are titles not handed out to everyone,
Damon earned them
with his Word, His Honor and His blood..R.I.P.our friend
Solstice
Sept '97
alcoholics have visited the tavern.