Okay this is going to be just like just about everyone did in english in middle school or intermediate or what ever you americans call it. i will start this story with just one paragraph. and every additional person has just one paragraph to say what they want to say. then that person waits for the next person to write a paragraph, then they can go again if they want.

this story can go in any direction, with any flavor of style or charactorization. and as in life just know that anything can happen during the other persons turn and try and accept the even with civility and hopefully some humor will creep into the telling of this tale.

So here is to "A Story Told By All."

Her long hair whipped most annoyingly about her Pale cheeks. There was nothing more for her to do here. Time had traveled on as she had watched her fathers home burn, and now there was nothing but ashes. She looked over the distruction and sighed in regret. So much for promises. so much for a happy ending. and so long to that stupid prince who had thought that using her family home and property against her. Boy had that been a stupid move on his part.

She sifted dejectedly through the ashes, looking for what little she might be able to salvage. Night was coming on quickly, and it was already getting cold. Her search yielded little, a cooking pot, one of the older kitchen knives, the handle burned away. Her family had taken most of their belongings with them when they fled the prince's wrath. She longed to follow them, but knew that to do so would be their death warrant. She drew the sharp eating knife at her belt and cut off her beautiful long hair. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she did so, and she buried the hair under the hearth before she turned to go. She knew what she had to do.

It had long been a fact in Ireland that long, loose hair on a woman signified the wearer was single. Cutting her hair was an outward sign of her vows to God and also a new beginning and direction in her life. She would spend the remainder of her life avenging what the prince had done. "I covenant with thee and the angels of heaven that from now on I am to be known as Grainne Mhaoil, Grace of the cropped hair!" It was the beginning of her becoming the Queen of the Seas, or pirate queen of Clare Island.

Amazingly, she found what she needed to find most. A certain inner peace that comes when one is resolved to do what one has to do...She decided, that at all costs,that she would revenge this act of hatred against her family. She didn't exactly know how,as she had no money,nor when,as she was left afoot, but she knew that the Prince, the well unliked Thomas of Deepwaters would never see the birth of his children. His children.. Huh !!! He didn't have the nerve to admit to even himself that they were his.. She despised now what she had so recently loved so dearly....

"But what to do, what to do" she lamented. "I must have a plan to gain my revenge" she pondered, "Prince Thomas's minions are very strong, but perhaps with guile and a few good companions I can ferment the justice I deserve.". With that thought in mind, she turned her back to the smoking ruins and set out upon the misty land with a purposefull stride.

"Reaching the Inn, she wrapped her cloak around her to desguise her body. With the cloak and her short hair, no one would recognise her. Into the Inn she walked, in need of food and shelter only. Sick to her heart with sorrow; raged to fever pitch with the need for revenge - She did not seek company. But company was waiting for her .... destiny.

As her eyes focused after adjusting to the dank surroundings of the inn, and it's pub,she saw a few friendly faces,along with a few that she knew to be loyal to Thomas...She sat down,and quietly waited,for what,she knew not.. A few minutes went by,and a figure appeared at her side. She was too scared to look,at first,fearing the worst. Then a voice spoke,it's words so soothing,so familiar.
It was her long lost cousin Berrat, who'd left years before to fight in the Wars...

Berrat, also called He of the Many Scars, carefully eyed the slight figure seated at the table, in the corner. "Good eve, cousin." he said, on recognizing her, "What fate has befallen you and your fair hair?". "And what business are you about, with such a wee sword in your belt?" he said, as he took a place on the opposite bench and braced for the worst of family news.

Taking a deep breath and her fists clenched, she began to tell the sad tale to her cousin - this was a leap of faith; she hadn't seen her cousin for many a year but had to trust someone in this. Several times she had to pause, her emotion and anger all but bringing her to tears. Her determination for revenge the only strength she had left. Berrat sat patiently, without speaking or showing his reaction to her words.

A smile spread slowly on Berrat's face as a plan formed in his mind. "Ah, Grace of the cropped hair, I have a plan indeed!" She was yet a young woman almost fifteen years and ripe for marriage. "Methinks ye would fain meet Donal O'Flaherty. The two o'ye would stir things up for Prince Thomas!"

(aside to the readers - hmmmmmmmm me thinks this heroine has more in her than marriage! What do you think?)

"Cousin Berrat" she said with a determined set of her chin that impressed him, "I am ready to meet whomever you think may help me. This wrong must be righted and our Family name placed back on high where it belongs. Will you help me, cousin?"

Berrat grew very serious, She was being serious. The things she had said, She ment. The family had fled. His anger began to grow and he began to see the red haze begin again to cover his sight.
"Yes Grace i will help you and i think i know who else would be willing to join us."he paused unsure, would the Black hand of the forest really want to help a broken down soldure and a peasent woman?

Their anger carried them out of the inn and into the forest in search of the Black Hand. As they walked, Berrat told his cousin the story of how the bandit king had come to live in the heart of the dark forest. It was a tale of treachery and sorrow, and the prince figured prominently in it.

"There are things you know not of my life,little cousin" said Berrat."Do you remember when your dear Mother was ill,and I stayed with my uncle,your Father,until she'd gotten better?" "Barely,cousin,I was but 5 or so at the time." "You were the reason I stayed there,Grace." Your father had gotten into trouble with the shire reeve, and his band of "soldiers",and he had his hands full taking care of your Mum". "Your father wasn't about to let them take what little was left after taxes,and some odd things happened" "Shortly before this,your father had a herd of cattle to be proud of,and fields of grass to feed them" "Then in a span of a mere 30 moons,most of the cattle were either dead,or stolen." "And to make matters worse,we believe that someone poisoned the food that got set at the table" "Your father has never been one for eating anything more than meat and potatoes,but Aunt Sherda always filled the table with vegetables, and ate less of the meats". "That's how we think she took ill,the Scoundrels poisoning the food". There was a look of amazement on Grace's face when Berrat told her of the things he,and his two brothers,Martin,and Olin had done after they arrived..

"I have a question about cousin Olin" said Grace. "Let me guess,said Berrat,Why is he fair of hair,and color while the rest of the family is dark?" "How did you know?" said Grace."I just thought you're old enough to think for yourself, little one". "He was borne to a different mother than Martin and I,and she passed on before we were born.She was from the land of the Vikings, and came here while a child". "The brits used to partake in a terrible thing called "Erste Nacht" where they would take a woman from her husband on her wedding day, and the british lords, barons,or what would have their way with her"."That's Terrible!!" shouted Grace."Yes, but let me finish",said Berrat. Olin's mother was already pregnant with him when she got married, unbeknownst to the brits. They had a double wedding on that day,Ulka-Olin's mother,and her sister,Yillia.Yillia was found by the brits, and Ulka was not.Ulka never forgave herself for what they did to her sister,although she didn't know of it until a fortnight later.She went into a haze that lasted up until her own death". "What was it that happened to Yillia, Cousin?" asked Grace, not really wanting to hear the answer. "She was taken from her husband, and nine men lost their lives trying to prevent this from happening.When they got her to where the terrible deed was to take place, she pulled out a dagger that she always carried, and stabbed the bugger in the arm with it. He took the dagger out, and..
"Well, I won't go into the twisted details,but she didn't rise to see the sun"."This man, the animal that did this to my dear brother's Aunt, was none other than Eldred,the Barbaric,father of your recent quest, Thomas".

Grace was deep in thought, feeling the impact of Berrat's words. She wondered how it had gotten so ugly, that a once peaceful and prosperous family could be subject to such vile attacts. She could still see in her mind her own home burning, every last personal possession and semblance of home and belonging gone. "Berrat?" she asked. "Why did you earlier mention a Donal O'Flaherty to me? Who is this man and why did you smile at the thought of my meeting him? How does he tie in with the Black Hand of the Forest? Who is the Black Hand of the Forest?" Berrat hugged his cousin and laughed heartily. "You shall soon see," he replied, "you shall soon see!

Under the ever-thickening canopy of the forest, the warrior and the lass continued their progess down the narrowing path. Soon, only the occasional shaft of sunlight dimly illuminated the trace they followed. Even the songs of birds became sparce, till the only sound that forced the silence to yield, was that of the crunch of gravel from their own footsteps. Suddenly, they past through a tree line, as if it was some leafy mystical margin. Before them was revealed a small meadow, with what appeared to be a cottage of slap-dash construction. Although it was doubtful that it's roof would keep the rain off of one's head, from that roof ominoulsly curled a thin wisp of smoke. This cottage was occupied.

Out from the cottage stepped a tall woman. "Hello travellers" she said, as she made her way to the wood heap to collect her nights supply of fuel. "Do you need a warm hearth and words from the heart, my young Travellers? Come, make my home your home for the night." The cousins could feel the warmth and welcome of the cottage and this Lady even from a distance. Berrat felt this was a house of wisdom; Grace felt this was a home of love. With a silent nod between them, they accepted the offer of shelter and warmth from the Lady. Instinct told them both that her shelter was safe and Berrat realised this Lady was their road to the Wisdom to defeat their enemy.

stepping into the warmth and light offered them, Berrat and Grace gazed about them, amazed. form without, the cottage looked about to cave in. but once inside, it took on a whole new demeanor. heat radiated from the hearth, which was to their far right. it was huge, and Grace felt sure she could step into it without any trouble at all, if she wanted to. the Lady offered them chairs by the fire. settling into them, Berrat and Grace grinned at each other. the chairs were huge, and they felt like children in them. Berrat was reminded of the last time they had grinned at each other in that secret way...'Grace, do you remember the time we...'
Grace's laugh cut him short,'...the time we stole uncle yancy's mounted boors' head and nailed it onto cousin lillith's portrait?!?! how could i forget? we hid in the hen house and had to sit in the rafters so we wouldn't get pecked to death by the roosters...' her voice trailed off in memory. grinning, Berrat finished the story. 'they only found us because the maid came to collect eggs the next morning. remember how we wanted to run away and live in the woods? we had it all planned out... we were so afraid your father was going to skin us alive. but, he didn't. we were hauled in by our ears, and he made us sit in those huge chairs in his library while he paced back and forth between us. all we could do were stare at each other. i remember how big your eyes were...' 'you looked pretty scared yourself,' Grace said, laughing. 'if i remember correctly, you were paler than the ash on that wood. but father went pretty easy on us...we had to pay for the painter to come back and fix lillith's portrait, then he made us collect eggs for the poor maid, we had scared her into delivering her babe early.' Berrat grimaced "you got off easy, though. since i was older i got most of the blame. i ended up being forced to go on a hunt with uncle yancy, to see what a great disrespect it was i had done him. he was such a stiff, if you even breathed loudly he would loose his temper, and that scared all the game away. then he blamed it on you! ugh!' grace giggled, 'yeah, i remember that. you came back all disgusted and ended up getting in more trouble than before, you had sassed him so much. we were a pair of troublemakers, weren't we? always doing something or other...' they looked at each other, out of their reverie. 'what happened? why did we grow apart so? you fill all my memories, there was most never a time we weren't together...' grace's voice quaverd, and her eyes grew misty. berrat cleared his throat, and blinked quickly. 'life happened, grace, we grew up, our intrests changed...you became a woman, and i became a man...we still did things together, but you were cloistered away, learning to be lady. but we did sneak off enough for me to teach you swordplay, until lillith found out...she was always ruining our fun, it seems.' he looked up at her, and smiled gently. ' it seems we are together again, living out our dreams...we're in the woods, and we're running away, aren' t we?' grace smiled a small smile, then it grew. 'yeah, and now lillith can't ruin any of our games! she's a courtier in the king's fair palace, and gives no thought to either of us.' Berrat held out his hand. 'remember this?' he held it palm up, and in it was a small silver ring with a blue stone set in it. 'oh!' Grace cried. searching in the pouch she always wore around her neck, she fished out a matching ring. 'we bought them from that old wanderer. he said they were magic, and if you gave on to the person you loved the most, you would always come bak to each other, no matter what happened in life...you bought one, and i bought the otjher, then we exchanged them...i never am without it.' 'it seems that they worked', Berrat said. he slipped his onto his pinky finger. it just fit. grace looked at it, as she had a thousand times before. ' i thought of you, every time i held it. i always wondered what you were doing, where you were. what adventures you were having without me...' 'but now we're together again, the terrible twosome, ready to cause soem more trouble...' Berrat grinned as he said that, watching her somber expression break up and the radience of her smile return. 'yes', she said firmly, 'ready to cause a lot of trouble for the prince!' the Lady approached them at that moment. 'favored guests,' she said in a low, melodious voice, ' i believe there is someone here you need to meet.'

* i know, i know...that's a really loooooong paragraph...sorry, i just got a little caried away...my imagination tends to run away with me, and i try to reign it in before i run over people...agian, sorry for running at the fingertips..*

Tatyana...it is wonderful! You could write the rest of the story and Paul Harvey would be in total awe! LOL

who's paul harvey? LOL i really don't know, that was a compliment, right? *G*

*taps foot* waiting waiting waiting...who will be the next one to write? looking forward to the continuing saga of grace and berrat...please, somebody write! *S*

The door opened and Grace gasped as she looked at the large man staring back at them. "He...he...Oh my God, not you!" Grace's face paled. "What do you want from us, Thomas!" Berrat started to laugh then the other man burst into guffaws at the mention of the Prince's name. Grace looked perplexed then the other man spoke up. "I be Donal O'Flaherty...and from the look upon your face you have need of me." Grace was taken aback by this new revelation. Somehow she felt drawn to Donal. Could it be that his resemblance to Prince Thomas of Darkwaters had sparked the old feelings before his betrayal of her heart? She looked deeply into his eyes. There was more here than she cared to admit. Berrat spoke up, "I told you that you needed to meet Donal O'Flaherty!"

tossing his black hair out of his eyes, donal sank his muscular body down onto the hearthstones. the firelight danced across his rugged, handsome features. grace watched him as he accepted a cup of warm cider from their hostess. donal and berrat eyed each other warily, then both began to chuckle. 'it seems we be on the same side of the fence this time, eh berrat?' at this remark, grace shot a look of surprise at her cousin. was not this the man he had said would help them fight the prince and restore her family's honor? had they been enemies at one time? grace worriedly sipped her cider and let it soothe away some of the fear that had been her travelling companion since the prince had denied her claims of her bearing his child. berrat ignored her, and locked eyes with donal. 'yes, i would like to think we be on the same side...my cousin and i are looking for somebody to fight our battles with.' for the first time since he had entered the room, donal looked at grace. 'so this is your cousin?' he swept her body with one cool glance. 'and she expects to fight?' his voice held a touch of disdain, and before berrat could diffuse the impact of donal's words, grace had leapt to her feet. 'i can hold me own with the best of them!' she cried. dashing her mug on the stones at donal's feet, she stalked toward him, her green eyes flashing. pushing her short, red hair out of her face, grace circled donal slowly. a part of her mind that was not flooded with rage remarked to itself that, indeed, this man could be taken for thomas's twin. the only diffrence was that where thomas had an aristocratic indiffrence for the world at large, donal seemed to be keenly aware of all that happened. grace did not assume for one second that she could best him, but she knew she would die trying to. turning from him, she faced the roaring fire. she watched the flames dance and twist, struggling to escape the restraints of the hearth. much like herself...always trying to escape the restaints and burdens placed upon her. she watched as sparks raced up the chimney, escaping into the night. dimly, past the roaring of the fire and her emotions, she heard murmuring voices. she stood, feeding the fire with her anger until the Lady approached. standing a foot taller than even the men, the Lady's presence was both comforting and unnerving. in her robes of blue and brown, she stood as a reminder of a past that the race of men had tried hard to put from their memories. grace did not want to, but felt compelled to take her eyes off the fire and look into the Lady's eyes. immediatly she felt her anger leave her, and she began to tremble with pent up anger and fear and loneliness. a single tear escaped, and that seemed to say it all. with compassion in her eyes, the Lady folded grace into her arms. 'hush child, all will be well.' the Lady held grace as she sobbed, and as she wept, her heart eased. in the arms of the Lady, there was no judgement. smoothing grace's short, now wet hair from her face the Lady cupped grace's face in her strong, gentle hands. 'now child, come with me and i will tell you a story.' holding graces' hand as if she were a small child, she led grace outside. passing through the doors, grace looked at the cottage. from the outside it still looked like a rambshackle old building, broken down and long abandoned. leading her to a stand of ancient trees, the Lady sat. grace followed suit, and threw her head back to look at the stars...the lady began her story...

*Mouth gaping wide open* Tatyana...where is your own personal section of muse? I...I...I can't follow in your stead. *TAO stuttering dumbfounded* What a beautiful gift you have! I think I will do the MF thing and sit with me drink an popcorn an wait for more to come. (Does this post count so you can continue?) Please, by all means, continue the flow of your story!

i don't think your post counts, tao. *G* thank you though for all your lovely compliments *kotc*, i don't know that i can live up to them all. if no one minds, i will continue writing...

*Belching loudly* Excuse me...that was rude but I don't normally sit with Fionn and drink like this. Popping Popcorn an Pop in me mouth at the same time tends to do that to me. *G* Haven't heard anyone wanting to post so I say continue writing! *Hugz!*

"Beyond time and memory have my people lived here amongst the trees. Watching and waiting for those who would fight free of tyranny. Once we were many who waited, but soon more and more gave up hope and left for other realms. Only my family, here in this forest, have maintained hope. And here and there have been a few who have come. They have kept spark alive in our hope. And here you now are, you and your cousin, come to right the wrongs done to your country. And mayhap, methinks, yourself as well." A twinkle in her eyes, told me that somehow she knew of the seeds growing inside me. Those twin seeds of hatred to injustice and the growing child. At that moment, I told her all, of the promise, of the destruction of her family home,and of her vow to herself, Grace of the Shorn Hair.