Myranda Miller  rarely let a chance to celebrate pass without indulging in it to some extent and this was no exception to the rule.<br/><br/>The caravan that she had come out with as a guard had arrived in the sleepy little town a few days before; with her duties discharged for at least a few days while they resupplied for the next leg of the route into the mountain passes and onward to the dwarven cities for the trade in rare ores and goods, she had some time to spend exploring the town... not that there was much to explore and she quickly grew bored with it all. She had joined up to see the world in some way and while she had done that, a part of her missed the salt laidened air and the boom of sails overhead... that year on the open sea had been one of the best of her life.<br/><br/>Of course, not everything was a loss in the town; she had found a lively young man on that first day and taken him out to lay under the stars and get to know each other in ways that her uppercrust parents would of been scandeled by. They both knew that it was a temporary thing; she would move on with the traders and he would return to his blacksmithing and it would be a pleasant memory.<br/><br/>So, it wouldn't be a surprise to see the swashbuckler in the tavern, her rather nice rear perched on the lap of a rather nice smith. A mug of mead in one hand the other wrapped around a well muscled neck as the crowd laughed and drank and told their stories.<br/><br/>The swashbuckler raised the mug and cheered at the conclusion of the humorous story and drained her mug before she laid a heated kiss on the lips of her smith and rose, "If it's a tale that you want, I have one that may suit!" she called out and with that pfeline's grace that flowed with an unconscious effortless sway of hips, she took the few steps through the room and leaped onto the stage, her body straightening into a cartwheel and a tumble before rising with that same effortlessness to her feet. "My first adventure at sea aboard the good ship Wave rRider upon the inner sea." Then, with a clear, carrying voice, she began to tell of a sea battle with pirates and the desperate struggle of the beleaguered crew of the 'Rider in vivid detail, her hand wielding an imaginary blade as she moved, almost danced forward, then back and forward again while the balance slowly began to tilt against the foul pirates; the decks awash with blood of both good mena nd evil, the smell of wood afire and the heaving of the decks beneath their feet until, after a final valiant push, the valiant crew of the merchantman repelled the evil of the aggressive vessel; the bounty on the dreaded pirate captain jangling in their ears as he was taken alive and... relatively healthy.<br/><br/>Then, the celebration afterward fueled by the kegs of good brandy taken from the pirates and the bunty surrendered to pay for the crushed dock on the morn's tide wjem the drunken quartermaster tripped over a coiled line and yanked the wheel hard to port!<br/><br/>With her tale told, with the same flair that had propelled her to the stage, she jumped back into the arms of her smith and with feathered hat held high,kissed him again in a way that the young should never see!