(514-02-01) Pursuing Justice
Summary: A group of knights, squires, sergeants, and one lady look to bring a group of brigands to justice.
Date: February 1, 514
Related: None Directly
kamron bryce arian lysanor cyndeyrn lainn acwel 

Winter holds Salisbury in its grasp, with snow now thick on the ground. Spring may be coming soon, but it must still pry the cold teeth of winter from the land before it can bring its warmth. It has been a hard winter for those outside the safety of a village as well, and some of those vagabonds have become distressingly desperate, desperate enough to journey through the snow to pick on a traveling peddler, assault him, steal his cart of goods, and leave him bleeding alongside a track. Forces from several manors, knights, squires, and a few sergeants, have been gathered together to run down the bandits and bring them to justice.

Kamron de Dinton rides with the other nobles, leaving it to the sergeants to scout and track for the most part. He rides with his fur-lined cloak wrapped around his armor, his shield already slung on his left arm, but his axe still hanging from a loop on his saddle. His horse was once a nondescript brown charger, but it is now an old, graying, nondescript brown charger, and the gelding is starting to have a little trouble with the snow, huffing and puffing plumes of breath in the winter chill. Ahead of them, the tracks from the cart depart the fields and plains, trailing off into the woods, and Kam shakes his head, "Well, that will certainly make things more interesting, if they're in there. I don't fancy chasing a bee into its hive, but I suppose sometimes one must if they wish a bit of comb."

Riding somewhere near Kamron is a Dinton neighbour and even temporary resident. Sir Bryce de Baverstock's dark eyes scan the woods about them even as they ride, his own dark woollen cloak with a bit of rabbit fur lining flapping in the chilly breeze, revealing the armor he wears underneath. The shield of Baverstock worn proudly about his left arm, the reins of his black stallion Devil held in the left hand, while his right hand rests on the pommel of the sword at his side, ready to draw it. A slight frown forms on his angular features, and a nod comes to Kamron's remark. "I fear that's what we will have to do… chase the bees to their hive, and pull the evil out by its roots.", he states grimly, adding a second analogy to the first.

Arian de Laverstock has joined the masses, but this time dressed as a Knight instead of the Lady. Her armor has seen better days, suggesting it is a secondhand set — probably from her eldest brother's squire years. Her horse, however, is young and spry with a good nature and excited temperment. It almost dances next to Kamron's sluggish charger, youth trying to irritate the old. The rider glances over at Kamron, brows arched a touch. "Sounds like a buzzing good time, Sir Kamron," she says, her voice and smile wry. She glances over toward Sir Bryce, offering a slightly more somber nod.

Usually, Lysanor de Dinton would be left at home to wait for her kinsmen and their soldiers to return from such a mission. This time, however, her healing services may be needed and while she is unused to being anywhere near the heat of battle, she seems eager, if cautious, enough to offer her aid as they travel through the harsh winter snow. Dressed in the usual lady's garb in grey or neutral hues, she does don leather armor for some protection. A heavy white fur lined cloak rests upon her delicate shoulders, the hood raised to further shield her from the falling snow, though not the wind. Upon her white mount, she rides slower than the others, seated side-saddle and looking all the more modest in her seat. One hand lightly holds onto the reigns of her horse as she guides the beast forward. A few pouches hang at her belt along with the gear attached to her horse, all holding the bulk of her supplies. Looking in the direction that the others do now, she feels a cold breath caught within her throat as her lips part to state, "Let us hope that these bees are kept busy and preoccupied then."

Dressed, armed and armored much like his cousin, and riding close with him in whatever sense of familial strength (or safety) in numbers, Cyndeyrn is as ever a large but quiet presence on the ride, his sillhouette far overshadowing the rest of him. When the wheel-tracks come into sight, he gives a satisfied grunt, surely happier than not to at least find them quickly rather than having to continue some long and winding pursuit through the winter frost. Of course, as his eyes follow them further into the trees, his enthusiasm may dim somewhat. "If that is where they've gone, then it is where we must follow." There's no talk of bees from him, nor roots or anything else so poetic. "We must keep our eyes and wits about us, it is an easy place to man an ambush." He glances back then toward his sister and the other woman riding with them, although the latter at least is armed. "Keep close, sister. I'd rather you home, but I would keep you well in my sight if you are here."

And Arian's older brother, Lainn is bobbing along on his horse. "The fact that you look forward to something like this sister, tells me you didn't get your fair share at the front." he remarks, yawning lazily. There's an apple in his hand that he's been bouncing between his bicep and hand, something idle to do and pass the time before he finally decides to eat it. And after so long away from home, he looks pretty comfortable in his own armor. "By the way, when you going to get something that actually fits you properly? I can't say I left it to you in the best of shape."

The nod of Sir Arian will be met with an incline of Bryce's head in polite return of the greeting, albeit nothing more, as his attention is already drawn to where the trail of the cart vanishes in the undergrowth. The more familiar presence of Lysanor is noted with a brief sideways glance of the Baverstock knight, a reassuring albeit slightly mirthless chuckle leaving his lips in confident response. "These bees will be in a state shortly where they can no longer do harm." Even so, he will concede to Cyndeyrn's comment. "Aye, we should be on our guard. But they should be as well…" And yes, despite the confidence Bryce de Baverstock emanates with his words, his rather lanky and not too tall physique shows off a slight tension. Ready to react and hop off his horse should the need occur - or just attempt the rather unlikely feat of evading potential arrows coming from hypothetical archers that hide in the bushes.

Kamron laughs easily at the Baverstock's words and at Arian's echo of his own, "I fear, Sir Bryce, that you are mixing your metaphors." Smiling back to his cousin, he shakes his head in amusement, "And I fear, good coz, that we will have to roust them so they do not sting anyone else." And that's about all of the metaphoring that he can manage at the moment. He looks to his new squire, Jonnin de Newton ("Newt" to his knight), trying to silently reinforce the message he gave the youth back at the Dinton manor when he heard Lysanor would be accompanying them, 'Stay close to Lady Lysanor and don't let her get hurt.' Sadly, they don't have the sort of easy knowledge that a long-time knight and squire have, and the squire keeps watching the Lady, quite moon-eyed. Kamron shakes his head ruefully, then turns his horse in a slow circle, the aged beast apparently quite happy to get a little distance from Arian's spritely horse, flicking one ear wearily. "So, do we go in straight ahead, or do we dismount and proceed with a little more caution?"

"When Father decides to invest in new armor," Arian replies to her brother Lainn with a smirk. "Though, I might start warming Trystan up to the idea. He is the head of the household now… and he likes me best." At least as long as Josette isn't about, though Arian and Josette have often enjoyed tagging off who is buttering up Trystan. She gives her horse's reins a tug, drawing the giddy gelding up before he rushes forward with her in his saddle. She glances over toward Kamron, and she shrugs slightly. "Why not both?" Might be a worthy distraction if some of us go straight through, and the others proceed with more caution."

"You had better hope that our cousin is a bit more pliable than father, Ari." Lainn notes. "Because it's my," he starts before lowering his voice in the tone of their father, "'insufferable influence that put her there in the first place'. To note, he his response when I brought it up. You're welcome by the way, I do so enjoy playing buffer. Those lovely little chats we have, I daresay it's the bright moment of my day. Trystan though…I'm sure you could appeal to him. I'm sure there's something he wants. I'm thinking mulled wine. Plenty of it. Get him in the proper mood to ponder such an investment for his favorite cousin."

Lysanor has no experience in this sort of thing, though she does listen attentively to the ideas brought up. While she may never venture to a hive of villainy again, the suggestions brought up may be useful at some point. Seeing as she, herself, will not take part in the bulk of this mission, she leaves the discussion to the knights involved, though her bright eyes flicker in her brother's direction when he gently warns her never to stray. Of course, she notices the squire as well and can only assume what his role in all of this would be. She offers Jonnin a smile still for he was still her Newton cousin in some form or other.

Cyndeyrn checked his battle of 10, he rolled 11.
Cyndeyrn checked his hunting of 10, he rolled 6.
Cyndeyrn checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 16.
Cyndeyrn checked his reckless of 10, he rolled 18.

"If they've continued with the wagon, rather than looting it and leaving it behind, there ought be enough room for a rider at least," Cyndeyrn will say of the obvious fact, and then not much more until they're a bit closer to the edge. Here, he rides to about the very threshold of the wood, pushing up his visor to take a look down beside his steed at the road beneath them. "It does look as though they've followed some old game trail, and maybe even widened it, though I could not say if that were the men responsible or merely others using the track as a local shortcut of some sort." Of whether it is better - or wiser - to ride or dismount he seems unsure. "I am willing to procede ahorse, though I think sending bait would be unwise, too easy for that one to be surrounded and taken to the ground." A knight's great weakness!

Bryce checked his Prudent of 10, he rolled 12.

"Bandits will be bandits, and we would be ill advised not to show us as the valorous knights we are.", Bryce intones in a sudden wave of confidence. "So I'd vote us to stay ahorse… we are faster that way, and with all this armor, I doubt we could sneak without them noticing - if they are waiting to ambush us.", he opines. "And if needed we can always dismount, can't we?" The question directed towards Kamron and Cyndeyrn. "I mean… what are we waiting for?" And as if his horse sensed his unrest, Devil prances and lets out an impatient whinny. "No bait! All of us! At them!", Bryce suggests, his dark eyes gleaming.

The knight of Woodford was with the crew from the get go. Honest. Acwel is ahorse, and fully armed and armored, and is easily identifiable by the crimson red and black tabard he wears that shows the three dragons representing his manor. His hand upon the hilt of the sword, his eyes scan ahead as he contemplates the best possible scenario out of this particular situation. "Bait would not be advisable, no, but if necessary, I will volunteer to do it, provided that you do not abandon me outright should I find myself in trouble."

Kamron checked his battle at 12, he rolled 9.

Kamron nods at Arian's words, "Perhaps the Sergeants spread out on foot as flankers and beaters, and the rest of us up the track?" Cyndeyrn's commentary draws a sharp nod from the smaller Dinton, although Bryce's fire draws a chuckle, "Perhaps we don't go rushing in straight away, Sir Bryce? No sense getting feathered with arrows and have to get stitched up by my good Lady Coz if we don't have to, right? If we stay together as a single body, we can better protect the Lady Lysanor and make sure we don't get pulled down."

Arian checked her reckless of 10, she rolled 13.
Arian checked her prudent of 10, she rolled 3.

"They probably already know we're here," Arian says in a jovial note, and her gelding dances forward a few paces along the wheel ruts. The Laverstock knight tugs the reins again, and the horse snorts and shakes his head in his own frustrations. She glances over her shoulder at Kamron at his nice level-headed thoughtfulness. How irritatingly commonsensical. She wrinkles her nose at Lainn slightly, though her smile remains lightly in place.

Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 7.

As the others continue to discuss their plans around her, Lysanor's eyes peer out through the wind and snow and sleet to try and get a better view of the area. She has been in these woods before, but not for anything as dangerous as this. The voices of her brother and Sir Bryce pull her attention back to the conversation and this is when she realizes that the knights are preparing to ride forth and continue on horseback. Her small frame draws up as she straightens her back all the more as a way to silently brace herself for what was to come. "I am as prepared as I'll ever be. My only hope is that I do not slow any of you down nor place you in any form of danger due to my presence alone." And her inexperience in this matters.

Bryce's brows are drawn together as he receives Kamron's comment, but if it is due to the mention of being feathered with arrows or the reference to Lysanor, is hard to tell. His eyes flit down in a reluctant acknowledgement of the wisdom in the Dinton's words, and a low grumble follows, in that same vein. "What are you suggesting, then?", he inquires, a hint of sourness in his tone. "The bait thing? Have one of us ride in and draw them out of their hiding places?" A quite pointed glance is given Acwel who volunteered to do such.

Kamron shakes his head, "Not at all, Sir Bryce. I'm suggesting we advance straight up the track as a single body, with the sergeants out to protect our flanks and spot any ambushes that we might run into. We'll have to advance at a slow pace to let them keep up through the woods, but we'll be somewhat more protected and still retain our mobility when we find the blackguards." A low chuckle touches his lips and he nods over to Arian, "I think Sir Arian has the right of it, of course, that they probably know that we're already here, or they will quickly. As has been noted, we're not exactly quiet."

From his place alongside Lysanor, Jonnin smiles beatifically at his cousin, "I… I… I'm sure that we'll… we'll be able to protect you, Lady Lysanor."

"Worry not, my lady," Acwel stares intently at Lysanor as he speaks, voice solemn, "You will not bog us down. In fact, I would expect so many knights of Salisbury in a single sitting might be too much for these brigands' weak stomachs. So perhaps," he inclines his head in agreement to Kamron, "We go in, at once, and take them by storm. Whether or not they know we're here, there is always the element of speed, and if we lost surprise, at least we have that, provided we are skillful enough."

"A simple, direct advance seems reasonable," Cyndeyrn will offer, echoing Kamron with an agreement of sorts. Since he can't come up with any brilliant tactical plan of his own here, his instincts seem to be telling him to stay away from anything fancy or extreme, whether foolhardy or overly cautious. "We'll not surprise them, so a direct march in a well-defensible formation seems wise." Though he will say to Acwel, "I do not think a full speed charge advisable when we have no sight of our target and the path through the wood is very likely less than straight. As my cousin says, we got at a firm, measured pace, that we not bumble blindly into any ambush… or even into the trees themselves."

Arian tilts her head at the other knights, continuing to tug a bit on the reins of her horse who seems more than ready to charge forward. "I agree with Sir Kamron and Sir Cyndeyrn." She gestures with her head toward the pathway the ruts lead. "A straight forward advance, but not a full out charge. Lets do this wisely." Or at least somewhat wisely. She moves her horse alongside Kamron's, turning her horse to face the ruts once more, showing her readiness.

"The cautious approach," Bryce states, his tone devoid of any judgmental quality. He nods, falling in formation, perhaps by coincidence, at Lysanor's side. "Your cousin is quite the strategist," he remarks to her with a smile that might be meant to be reassuring. "They will see us as the undefeatable force, and maybe won't have the stomach to attack us. And even if they do…" His dark eyes shift to meet Lysanor's gaze, one corner of his mouth lifting. "They will soon regret their folly." Poorly armed bandits against armoured knights? It seems Sir Bryce is quite aware of that advantage while ignoring the danger of being ambushed. "So… an attack?", this he offers hopefully, backing up Acwel's remark towards Kamron. That hope dims somewhat once Cyndeyrn voices his thoughts on the matter. And the Arian as well. "Very well. An attack then, that leaves them the opportunity to… rethink."

Lysanor checked her valorous of 10, she rolled 3.

Lysanor graces the knight of Woodford with a warm smile at his words followed by a nod. "I truly hope that you are right, Sir Acwel." Those words spoken, she looks back over her shoulder to view the young Jonnin once again, "I know that you will. All of you." And this she extends to the group as a whole. When it looks as if, perhaps, the others have come to a decision, she takes in a deep breath, drawing in her own courage before her eyes meet with Bryce's and she returns with a pleasant smile of her own, "As they should regret it and pay for their villainy." Adjusting her horse idly now, she looks a touch anxious for those involved.

Kamron nods to the sergeants, who begin to dismount. Two of them are told off to watch the horses, and then the other six advance toward the edge of the forests. Kamron watches them move, and then urges his horse forward behind them, "It may not be the most song-worthy of plans, Sir Bryce, but it should keep the Lady," he's not going to insult Arian by making that plural, "safe." And it's not some immediate charge, although Kamron does draw out his axe, holding it low at his right side as they reach the edge of the forest. The path winds slightly within the woods, following the contours of the land, but generally runs straight. Darkness closes in over the party as the tall trees cut out the weak winter light, leaving it dim around them. The underbrush, thankfully, while thick, is low, so the sergeants can be seen pushing through it around them.

Kamron checked his Awareness at 9, he rolled 17.
Arian checked her awareness of 10, she rolled 4.
Critical Success!
Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 9.
Cyndeyrn checked his awareness of 8, he rolled 5.
Acwel checked his awareness of 10, he rolled 4.
Bryce checked his Awareness of 10, he rolled 6.

The trail goes around a huge oak tree, and there is the peddler's cart in a small clearing. It has been mostly cleared out of its goods, and there are a couple of rough lean-tos beyond it. At the edge of the little clearing, just at the edge of the underbrush, are half a dozen men with long, rough spears. They seem to be keeping quiet for now, evidently hoping to ambush the knights as they enter the clearing and dismount to start poking around.

Acwel glances sidelong at Lysanor, flashing her a brief smile, before he simply nods to the decision by the majority, content to follow along with Kamron's plan for the situation. He follows the sergeants' paths along with his gaze, riding accordingly, and keeping pace with the others. He lets the horse's stride pause to lower his tone as he advises, "Perhaps we ought to circle around rather than go straight ahead to them. They might have laid a trap for the horses."

As she did not take any real part in the planning process, Lysanor did have the time focus her attention and all of her senses on the world around them. She had heard something earlier, but believed it may have been a trick of her mind, but these very sounds draw her gaze in the direction of the lean-to. Her eyes widen for a moment, before they narrow and just as she is about to tell the group of her findings, she sees something else. Her voice coming out in a sharp whisper, "Up there," she gestures towards an oak tree, "There's an archer there in one of the low branches." There is a brief pause now, before she then states, "And children just beyond the lean-tos." The sound of children is what she had heard prior.

Arian pulls up on the reins of the dancing roan, her hand falling immediately to the pommel of her sword. She casts a glance up and around the canopy, and her pale eyes narrow. She holds up a hand as she regards Kamron. "Ambush," she murmurs under her breath, pulling her horse backwards a bit to widen the distance between her and the cart. She does not yet draw her sword, but waits…

Dark eyes find the peddler's cart, and air leaves Bryce de Baverstock's nostrils in an exhale as he senses that the point of confrontation is nigh. He may be perceptive enough to catch a few glinting reflections from the underbrush, hinting at spears and those who wield them. But it is Lady Lysanor's whisper of warning that has his gaze shift to where she points, at the archer, and his eyes narrow. A glance is shot towards Kamron and Cyndeyrn, as Bryce suggests: "I could ride there and shake him off that tree?", displaying the usual confidence of his tone. The Baverstock, while hardly impressive in height or bulkiness, is known to be quite swift and agile, if required. The suggestion of course made in the assumption of them attacking.

Cyndeyrn sees the men at the far side of the clearing, if not, perhaps, the sniper in the tree - although his sister is kind enough to point that one out, and he is sure to raise his shield in case of any shots. Still, with a glance back and forth to the other knights in line, and a meaningful first raising, and then pointing of his sword toward the row of hedges, Cyndeyrn both confirms that everyone knows where their target is and indicates his own plan of action. Namely, to ride forth and do battle! Which, with a little nudge of his heels into his steed's side is exactly what he does. The beast quickly takes to a quicker pace, and he charges at the hedges, ready to hack into whatever target he reaches first, leaving others to deal with the bowman. "Family and Faith!"

Critical Success!
Kamron checked his prudent at 10, he rolled 10.

Kamron was busy checking on the progress of the sergeants as they rounded the oak tree, and so its only the words of the others that draw his head around, "What?" Finally spotting the bandits, he whistles sharp and loud to get the attention of the sergeants, and then sweeps his axe in an arc, trying to direct them to surround the bandits. "I believe they're right there, sirs. I'm sure they can see us standing here." By then, Cyndeyrn is halfway across the clearing, however, and when Kamron touches spurs to his horse's flanks, he's a good two horses' lengths behind the others. He'll leave the archer to the others as well, following along behind his cousin and the others.

Bryce checked his Sword of 13, he rolled 18.
-5 penalty for aiming at a target up in a tree.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (15) for a total of: (15)
Skill of 8 +5 for higher ground = Miss.

Bryce looks to Cyndeyrn, and seeing him ride forth, he follows along, his lips curved in a grim smile of determination. His sword is drawn from the scabbard and held into the air, cutting through it literally, as the Baverstock spurs his horse on, in the direction of the oak tree with the archer. "Never falter!", is his own recitation of the family motto, less of a shout and more of a menacing murmur, as he swings his sword in the moment he rides beneath those lower branches. A low curse escapes him, when the blade misses its target. Even so, an arrow hisses past Bryce's ear, in the same moment, missing him by mere inches. "You bastard…", the knight grumbles, wheeling Devil about as he is past the oak tree, readying himsself for his next attack on the archer in the branches.

Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 19.
+5 bonus for mounted makes it a hit.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (9) for a total of: (9)
Skill of 8 -5 for mounted foe +5 for great spear = Failure.
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (6 6 4 1) for a total of: (17)
17 - 4 Leather Armor, 12 Major Wound Level = 13 damage, Major Wound.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (14) for a total of: (14)
Size of 12, Dex of 10, knocked down.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (4) for a total of: (4)
11 remaining HP, still conscious.

Arian charges forward, and her roan gelding seems abruptly focused and ready despite his antsy dancing just moments ago. Her sword is out, shield raised, and she is cutting through the first bandit who gets in her horse's mighty path. The gelding almost rears during his pass of the bandit, but Arian stays firmly seated while she cuts through the man's leather armor and sends him onto his back at her horse's feet. Arian draws her horse to the side as to prevent the bandit getting a faceful of hoof.

Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (4) for a total of: (4)
Skill of 8 -5 for mounted foe +5 for great spear = success.
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (5 3 5 3 3) for a total of: (19)
19 - 4 Leather Armor, 12 MW Level = 15 damage, Major Wound.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (2) for a total of: (2)
Size of 12, Dex of 10, still standing.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3)
9 remaining HP, still conscious.

Acwel charges when Cyndeyrn indicates he's going to charge, choosing a target he swipes at with his sword. It hits the bandit across the shoulder, having parried the spear attack by deflecting the tip with the flat of his blade, letting the edge run along the spear and then using it to slice through with the charge, leaving a nasty, bleeding wound in its wake. The bandit is still alive, still on his feet, but damn if that must have hurt.

Cyndeyrn checked his swords of 15, he rolled 17.
+5 bonus for mounted makes it a hit.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3)
Skill of 8 -5 for mounted foe +5 for great spear = success.
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (6 5 2 2 2 5) for a total of: (22)
22 - 4 Leather Armor, 12 MW Level = 18 damage, Major Wound.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (10) for a total of: (10)
Size of 12, Dex of 10, still standing.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (8) for a total of: (8)
6 remaining HP, unconscious.

Cyndeyrn's charge is not quite the full-speed gallop he might take if on open ground with a lance, but still, he and his faithful steed barrel into the hedges with the sort of thundering force that makes the mounted knight the king of warfare. Even as he breaks through the low brush, the bandit before him is backpedaling off to one side, trying to avoid behing trampled while thrusting upward with his spear. But the mounted knight's high vantage - from both his mount and his own towering frame - give him a superior view of his grounded foe and a strong angle of attack, from which the incoming thrust is batted away with one swipe of his blade, before a second comes down on the man's collar. His armor is not much to hold the blade, although it keeps him from being simply cleft apart, but there is a snap of bone beneath the impact and the bandit crumples unconscious moments later, leaving Cyndeyrn to wheel his mount, searching for other targets.

Lysanor checked her prudent of 10, she rolled 6.

The time to act has come and the valorous knights in Lysanor's party race off to meet with their greedy little foes head on. There is a moment where the young Lady ponders on charging after the group, in the case that one of them fell or worse, but putting trust in their talks of confidence earlier and just the very knowledge that her presence there may hurt them more than help, she guides her mount forward at a much slower pace. She knows, for this is something which she had grown used to, that if any shall fall, they have their squires to tend to them and yet it makes her nervous and feeling just that much more helpless to just remain behind. For the most part, she is relieved at what she can gauge from the carnage in front of her. No one had been hit or struck, though there were some close calls. Her gaze moves from Cyndeyrn to Bryce, as the Baverstock knight went straight for the sniper in the tree which she pointed out. That one might just prove to be a nimble and troublesome creature.

Critical Fail!
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 20.
+5 bonus for mounted makes it a Critical Hit.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (19) for a total of: (19)
Skill of 8 -5 for mounted foe +5 for great spear = Failure.
Kamron rolls 8d6 and gets (4 3 1 6 5 1 6 6) for a total of: (32)
32 - 4 Leather Armor = 28 damage, dead.

Kamron is behind the rest of them, but he makes that delay count. The cousin ducks low behind his shield as he closes with the bandit at the edge of the group, the point skittering off the painted hardwood. And then Kam rises high up in his saddle, axe-blade rising and then falling in a gleaming arc. The arc is punctuated by a hollow 'chunk'ing sound as he splits the bandit's head like an acorn. And then he's riding past, using his knees to guide his horse about again, "Family and Faith!" Because you have to get your house words in there somewhere.

With one bandit clearly dead, and several more not looking particularly good — not to mention the sergeants who finally got what Kamron was trying to tell them and begin circling around the clearing — they start backing up into one another, struggling to get back to their feet as best as they can. Another one steps up to stab at Kamron, while the last one starts looking around, seeking a way out of the fray. The archer jerks back out of the way of Bryce's slash, nearly falling off the branch and letting out a distinctly feminine cry of surprise. She draws out another arrow, however, trying to draw a bead on the horseman through the leaf-less branches.

The squires stay back around Lysanor, just in case there are more bandits around.

Critical Fail!
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 20.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (13) for a total of: (13)
Arian rolls 8d6 and gets (1 6 1 5 2 2 4 5) for a total of: (26)

The Laverstock Knight draws her roan back around for another pass against the bandit, and this time, it is a fatal blow that sends the man dead on his back. Her horse prances over the body, and turns his knight around so the pair can search for another target. Her gaze sweeps across the fallen bandit, and her strong jaw sets hard. Arian does not let the death of one man weigh on her. The die had been cast, after all.

Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 9.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (8) for a total of: (8)
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (1 3 4 6 3) for a total of: (17)
Acwel checked his pious of 10, he rolled 12.
Acwel checked his worldly of 10, he rolled 15.

Acwel draws his destrier around, using his shield to deflect another spear strike as he makes a narrow pass to charge directly at the bandit. He thrusts his sword forward, as it runs across the foe's body. It is bloodied when he deems to pull it out, and the body of his foe drops to the ground. A good Christian, the Knight of Woodford murmurs, "Holy Father, forgive my sins."

Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 2.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (5) for a total of: (5)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (6 1 5 5) for a total of: (17)
17 - 12 Reinforced Chain - 6 Shield = 0 Damage.

Cyndeyrn turns his horse around and rides down another one of the bandits, one who seems to be taking to hoof (well, to foot - he'd probably get further if he was mounted!). Perhaps underestimating the fleeing man, he rides in fairly straight and even heaves up his sword to get a bit of extra leverage on the blow - only to see the fleeing figure turn and put up his spear. It's all the knight can do in the last moment to veer away to put his shield on the right side and deflect the majority of the blow, though he's unable to manage a return stroke with his weapon now on the wrong side. Alas!

Bryce checked his sword of 13, he rolled 10.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (14) for a total of: (14)
Kamron rolls 3d6 and gets (4 6 3) for a total of: (13)
13 - 12 Reinforced Chain = 1 Damage. Size 12:
Bryce checked his dex of 16, he rolled 9.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (4) for a total of: (4)
Archer remains on branch with successful Dex check.

Bryce's opponent seems to be much harder to get ahold of, still, the Baverstock knight rides forth once again, swinging his blade in an attempt to pluck the villain off his branch, and finish him off. His gaze cold and telling of his intention to administer justice and kill, if necessary. But again, the sword does not hit home, the angle, and the situation of stabbing upwards into the branches whilst keeping a prancing Devil in check too much of a challenge. But at least the Baverstock keeps the archer's focus on him. Quite literally, when a second arrow is released, piercing through his left shoulder, at least in part. Bryce is almost knocked from his saddle, but manages to regain his balance in the last moment, a slight wince there as he completes his round, wheeling Devil about once more. "I'll teach you, you bugger…", the knight grumbles, riding forth again, raising his blade in a less artful manner, just aiming to shave the archer along with some twigs off the branch.

Kamron checked his Axe at 15, he rolled 16.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (9) for a total of: (9)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (5 6 4 4) for a total of: (19)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (13) for a total of: (13)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (10) for a total of: (10)
Down and Unconscious.
You check your Merciful at 10, you rolled 7.
You check your Orate at 8, you rolled 1.

Kamron circles around the little group of bandits as it gets smaller still, fending off another series of spear-thrusts with his shield. Forcing the man back with the weight of his horse, he feints once with his axe, and then it makes another of those high-arcing swings and sinks home again. Not in the man's head this time, but in his shoulder. Still, the bandit drops the spear and collapse, screaming briefly before going silent and unconscious from the pain. "In the name of God, surrender and you will be spared!" The man's voice, so often used for flirting or teasing, rings out clear and bright like a horn's call.

The bandits are falling rapidly now, out-muscled by the knights, and certainly much more poorly armed. One of them actually manages to stop in time to thrust his spear at Cyndeyrn, actually catching armor. Up in the tree, the archer manages a glancing blow on the knight and scrambling back along the branch as if it were solid ground. She does not deign to try another shot now, ducking into the bow instead and beginning to climb higher into the tree, out of reach.

Arian checked her lustful of 13, she rolled 2.

Arian turns her head at Kamron's voice, arching her brows in surprise at the sheer clarity of the man's voice. Her smile is mostly hidden behind her helmet, but its presence is not hard to miss. She looks up toward the archer in the trees, and her gaze narrows slightly. Swinging her sword up at the trees sounds like a ruddy dumb idea, particularly as she is already a good five inches shorter than most knights here. So, she instead focuses on the bandit still standing and engaged with the Dinton. She draws her gelding around, spurring him toward Cyndeyrn.

More of the bandits falter and fall in the distance as Lysanor maneuvers her horse forward, the squires that surround her ensuring her safety for the most part. These thieves didn't stand a chance, not the ones on the ground anyway. Her eyes do catch sight of the pesky archer in that tree and even moreso that her father's one time squire had been knicked by the woman's own attack. Her horse even pauses in it's slow gait, before picking up its pace once Lysanor realizes that Bryce's damage would not need mending just at this very moment. In fact, the sight and sound of the children in the distance is what begins to draw her and so she pushes onward, though not racing off too quickly and allowing the brave soldiers around her to clear her path.

Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 1.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (13) for a total of: (13)
Skill split, 3 points to Cyndeyrn = Failure.
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (2 1 6 5 4 6) for a total of: (24)

Once the surprising spear-thrust alerts Cyndeyrn to his quarry having a little fight in it still, the big knight takes a more methodical approach. Having swerved past onto his shield side, he rides a short ways past and loops to make another pass, and even just the rapid, circling movement seems to put his target off balance - just one more thing showing the superiority of the mounted fighter! Even as several of the other knights come to his 'rescue' and pen the bandit in, the Dinton heir comes in riding hard, and swinging harder, the hacking sweep using his natural and horse-borne height as leverage, the animal's speed, and his own strength all to power the blow, which leaves a red spray and a partially hewn man in it's wake as the knight rides on by.

Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 13.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (16) for a total of: (16)
Skill split, 2 points to Arian = Failure.
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (2 3 3 6) for a total of: (14)

The Laverstock Knight needn't add to the attacks on the last bandit, but she is already there and sword drawn. She slices across the man's shoulder, and her horse powers past until the roan is trotting near the cart which they came to retrieve. Arian turns in her saddle, glancing over the clearing for other bandits, but finds none except for that archer. She gathers her reins tighter in her mitts, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Come down from there, woman! Your options have thinned! Consider the choices ahead of you!"

Letting the other knights deal with the last foe, Acwel is more concerned about the lean-tos that Lysanor pointed out as having some sort of activity. So he rides there, sword still in hand, and the horse's stride is careful.

Bryce checked his dex of 16, he rolled 14.
-10 for armor = failure.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (18) for a total of: (18)
Archer fails Dex roll to continue climbing.

When Bryce approaches the branch in question for a third time, he notices the archer is already withdrawing. "Hey! Wait!", he calls in an attempt to stop the archer, an attempt that is bound to fail. And unwilling to let the other get away that easily, he tries to climb on top of his horse and to swing himself up into the branches of the oak tree in pursuit of his opponent. An attempt that is bound to fail, the chainmail hampering his movement too much. A low curse leaves the Baverstock's lips, but he tries again. And again. Until he accepts the futility of his efforts, and changes his tactics. "Your accomplices are dying like flees," he tells the archer, "We are worthy knights of Salisbury! Do you really think, you can hide up there forever? Come down, and surrender, and we will consider how to deal with you." Better odds than being cut to pieces by a frustrated knight! Bryce keeps his weapon in hand, the tip of the blade lowered. A slight wince occurring when he shifts and feels the arrow wound in his shoulder. "I am Sir Bryce of Baverstock. Come down here and I promise I will hear you out."

Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 4.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (8) for a total of: (8)
Skill split, 3 points to Kamron = Failure.
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (2 5 3 2) for a total of: (12)

The last standing bandit does not even have a chance to surrender. When three armored knights on horseback crowd around him, he stabs out frantically with his spear, only to be cut down where he stands. Bryce's efforts with the archer don't seem to get very far for a long moment, and then she finally sighs and nods, "You promise not to kill me, and I'll come down." But she's already descending, because when you get right down to it, what sort of choice does she have?

Kamron does his part in finishing off the last fighter, wheeling his horse around to look for another target as the sergeants come sweeping in around them. Seeing Bryce has the archer well in hand, Kamron shakes off his gory axe-head, then reaches up to raise up his helmet's visor, "It seems like we have sorted that out, then. Neatly done, Sir Arian, and bloodily done, Coz," The last is said with a little chuckle, "Is everyone alright?" And then he raises his voice, "I think you can come on ahead, Coz." Somehow he makes it clear that the first comment was for Cyndeyrn and the second for Lysanor.

Lysanor would be disgusted or even frightened by all of the death around her, even if they were wicked little bandits, but her experience as a healer has strengthened her stomach in that regard as well as her nerves, somewhat. Otherwise, she would have felt sick early once the first thief fell. Hearing the shouting in the distance, her attention is drawn there briefly from out of the corner of her eyes now. The archer will be little problem and has nowhere else to go. It is when she realizes that Acwel's curiosity is piqued by her findings that she finally stirs her mount forward to a quicker pace in the hopes of catching up to him, even before Kamron states that the coast is clear. In the distance, just as she had seen before, there are children of various ages. "Are these the kin of the bandits?" She wonders aloud, "Or victims of some nefarious act?"

Cyndeyrn manages to slow his final pass without going off into the trees, and with less haste again wheels to come back about, getting his first chance to survey the mess he'd made of the final bandit and see that the others have neatly handled all the rest. Like Kamron, he is quick to find Lysanor behind them, but then seems to realize that Bryce has one last cornered up a tree. "Careful, sis, there's still one armed up there," he makes a point to caution her, and indeed rides closer to give her some cover, before she turns his own attention toward the children. "Hmm, it is hard to say, although either way they are but babes and can be guilty of little. If you wish to collect them, I will accompany you." He is still uncertain enough of the situation to allow Lysanor to wander beyond his sight or risk the woods unchaperoned.

"My lady," Acwel says to Lysanor as she approaches, before he answers to her loud wondering with, "If I had to hazard a guess, they were children kidnapped by the brigands for some nefarious purpose. Or it could be that they are kin of the brigands but I rather doubt it, unless these are village folk so down on their luck that they had resorted to banditry."

Lysanor checked her proud of 16, she rolled 1.

The closer she gets to the lean-tos, the more she can make out. "Women and children." Lysanor murmurs, getting a far better view of the group. There are at least 4 women and 3 children all huddled together covered in dried up mud, their faces and limbs covered in filth, hair matted. Just this sight alone is what keeps the woman atop her horse rather than immediately asking for aid so that she may dismount. Turning to Acwel, she nods slowly in response, before stating, "They look frightened, but after everything that they may have witnessed," She does not need to even gesture to the bodies of the bandits, "anyone would be frightened." Calling out to them, she then inquires, "Are any of you hurt? Where have you all come from?"

Arian checked her merciful of 10, she rolled 3.

"I'm alright." Sir Arian tightens her lips as the archer descends, and she casts a glance toward Kamron. She draws her horse forward a bit, nodding slightly. "I say we bring her back with us… she can face the King's justice." She then looks toward the others that are present for their opinion. She does take note of the children with Lady Lysanor, and her mouth thins even more.

Turning to Lysanor, Acwel nods once, letting the lady speak on behalf of the group and lowering his sword as a gesture of goodwill. Perhaps a foolish gesture, but he is studying the situation rather than just assume the worst. "God's peace be with you all," he greets the children and the women, offering a courteous nod to them, but riding a bit closer to the Dinton lady so that he might be able to best guard her from an impromptu trap.

Kamron checked his merciful at 10, he rolled 12.
Kamron checked his cruel at 10, he rolled 3.

Cyndeyrn remains with his sister, so that now, it would seem she is flanked by strong knights, guarded by her brother on one side and brave Sir Acwel on the other. A well protected lady indeed! That said, he leaves much of the talking to her, since… well, women know how to talk to children, right? And there are other women there besides. Yes, this very much seems the place for a lady's touch, and indeed, his large, stern presence is something he knows can (often unintentionally) frighten. So… guard duty, for the nonce!

Behind the lean-tos huddle four women and three children under 10 years of age, the women are weeping and holding on to the children, except one young boy of perhaps eight, emaciated and shivering, but holding up a stick as thick as his arm, looking to defend the others. He's… not much of a threat to Lysanor, let alone to the squires, sergeants, or knights. The little boy staggers backward at Acwel's advance, falling onto his bottom in the slushy mud behind the lean-to, tears running down his face. "Not going to hurt Mama." He's hard to understand with the crying, but it's still mostly recognizable.

Kamron nods sharply at Arian's words, "Earl Robert can provide Justice. A hand, I think. Or she can be sent to the King's Court if the peddler dies."

Acwel checked his generous of 10, he rolled 9.

"I think, Lady Lysanor, it is as I suspected," Acwel states, gravely, as the boy approaches, and then staggers backward. Quickly, he makes a decision: "Squire, fetch me bread and wine. We will not abandon the downtrodden in their time of need." To the children, he states, although his voice is certainly more chilly than intended, "I give you my knight's word we will not hurt you, child."

Cyndeyrn checked his suspicious of 10, he rolled 2.

Although Acwel seems eager to help the women and their children, Cyndeyrn still seems distrustful of the situation. With the bandits about, it does figure, and of course his sister's presence heightens whatever natural concern. "I would hear from an adult on how the lot of you came to be here. Are you farmers from a local mannor?" He glances back at some of the others even as the question is asked, wondering perhaps if he would not have heard of such kidnappings - but word does not always travel quickly, especially in winter! "In any case, you have naught to fear from that lot," he adds, clearly meaning the bandits, although whether this is actually comforting - or just a reminder of the sight of him cleaving a 6 inch gap in one of their shoulders - remains to be seen. -This- is why women should deal with this sort of thing! Oh well.

Lysanor checked her just of 10, she rolled 11.
Lysanor checked her arbitrary of 10, she rolled 6.
Lysanor checked her orate of 10, she rolled 14.

The little boy's reaction to their advancement is all the information that any of them needs. Lysanor's brow furrows as she considers the situation; her gaze looking from the protective child to the woman whom he protects. Kamron's words cut harshly through the winter air, making the young woman turn to regard her cousin with a sharp look. "Dearest cousin, do not frighten them. Are they not frightened enough as it is?" To the children once more, just as Acwel speaks to them with kindness, Lysanor follows suit, though her eyes lift to look beyond the boy and the child's mother, "Please, just tell us where the merchandise is being kept. We don't want any more harm to come to you or your family. but just as you may be struggling to feed yourself, the items which you stole was meant to help feed and clothe another family, similar to yours. A family who is trying to make an honest living for themselves." Her words may fall on deaf ears, especially if those ears belong to the cold and hungry.

One of the other children whines, "Where's Papa?" The woman holding her strokes the child's hair, glancing over to the carnage, murmuring, "He's gone to a better place, Anwen." The woman looks up to Cyndeyrn, still cowering with the others, "We… we were. We left. And then the winter got worse." Lysanor's question draws anger as well as fear onto her features, "The goods? All you care about are the goods?" Pointing a hand to the nearest lean-to, she cries, "They're in there! Under the branches!"

Kamron grimaces at Lysanor's response, "Not for them, coz. For the archer, since she has pricked a knight." Pulling out a cloth, he begins to wipe off the blade of his axe, cleaning the blood and… other matter… off of the metal and wood alike.

Critical Success!
Acwel checked his orate of 2, he rolled 2.

Acwel's squire might come just in time to defuse this situation by leaving a basket with wine and a couple of breads next to the women and the children, withdrawing swiftly afterwards as the Woodford dismisses him. "Come with us to Sarum, good folk. I am certain that they can use some extra hands for farming come the next Spring."

Said the Woodford knight, of course.

Critical Fail!
Cyndeyrn checked his merciful of 10, he rolled 20.

Once given the location of the stolen goods, Lysanor awaits for some of the squires or other footmen to retrieve the items. "Perhaps, in time, you will learn how to live honest lives." She states, her gaze turning to Acwel when he showers the women and children with kindness. Tugging on her reign so that her horse turns to the side so that she is no longer facing the filthy group directly, she decides to comment, "That was very noble and generous of you, Sir Acwel. Hopefully, your actions are not far more generous than they deserve. Who knows, you may make good and honest people of them in the end." She then turns in full to ride up to her cousin, Kamron, giving him a thoughtful look now. "I see. She was a fool, like all of the others who had fallen. But I feel that they have already lost too much as it is."

On this day, it seems like most of the Dintons are in agreement on their coolness of attitude, or in some case, even wrath toward these bandits and their kin. Once the full situation is clear to Cyndeyrn, he seems less than enthusiastic about the little group, much like his sister! "Indeed, because you were hungry, you have caused others to be so instead. An odd notion to accept as rightful." Still, with Acwel asking to lead them back, he is not about to try and bar them return to society. "If they are willing to work, rather than thieve, perhaps they will find lives again in the city, although it will be our duty to report on their behavior and the fates of their husbands, lest anymore good folk be made victims for their own selfish needs. Such dishonesty marks one's character."

The Laverstock Knight has remained quiet during the interaction between the other nobles and the commoners. She intakes a breath, holding steadily onto her reins as her horse shifts uneasily beneath her. He has been still for too long, and finds his master's patience to the interplay boring at best. Arian is patient, however, and pulls lightly at the reins to encourage the horse to find its own patience. She looks up when Lysanor nears, and she shifts in her saddle wearily. "We will be returning them to Sarum then?" She asks in the wake of Cyndeyrn's words.

Acwel meets Lysanor's gaze, and he smiles, "Thank you, my Lady. And I believe that regardless of whether or not I will be made a fool for this, it is the right path to take. Perhaps we ought to speak more of the values of such virtues at a later time." Then, again to the townsfolk, as if to reinforce his speech: "You are downtrodden. Many in the city would understand this. I further understand, though I do not condone, what led your fathers and husbands to stray from the path of what is just, away from our almighty Lord. You deserve a second chance. So pack your things, and head with us to Sarum, lest you starve before Spring comes, go to church and work the fields come the Spring. You will be happier with this decision than with your current state of affairs."

Kamron checked his forgiving at 10, he rolled 2.

The Sergeants and squires begin to police up bodies and shift supplies back into the cart, with Jonnin running off at Kamron's direction to fetch the last two Sergeants and their horses. He puts aside bloodied cloth and cleaned axe alike, and then slings his shield over his shoulder, pulling his cloak's hood up over his helmet just shy of his visor. He nods thoughtfully at Lysanor's words, "Perhaps you're right, cousin." Cyndeyrn gets another nod of agreement, and then he looks around the little group gathered while Bryce wrangles the archer and Acwel charms the captives, "Ah… I don't know that we really had time on the ride here. Cousins, this is Sir Arian de Laverstock. Sir Arian, my cousins, Sir Cyndeyrn and Lady Lysanor de Dinton."

The words of Sir Acwel draw a buzz of conversation from the women, as two of the children are crying now, including the young boy who has dropped his stick. One of them speaks up, "For true, M'Lord? We'll be free to live our lives if we go with you to Sarum?"

While not as benevolent nor generous as their traveling companion, Sir Acwel, Lysanor does show a touch of mercy on her part, even if not overly so. For now, she will place her trust in the knight from Woodford, her attention already drawn by the introduction now made. "It is a pleasure to meet with you, Sir Arian. Laverstock?" She echoes the name in an inquiring tone, "That is quite a bit away to the east. Just at the other end of the river. You have fought well today." She then looks to the group as a whole, "All of you have."

Sir Arian smiles over toward Cyndeyrn and Lysanor at the introductions. "Merry met again Sir Cyndeyrn, and merry met anew Lady Lysanor." She bobs her head gently, drawing herself taller on her saddle, which is quite impressive for such a slight of a knight. She then starts to turn her horse around, pausing at Lysanor's words. She brightens, dimples appearing around her smile. "Thank you, My Lady… And yes, Laverstock." She offers Kamron a smile that shines with mischief. "Sir Kamron invited me along… he wanted to show off, I think."

Cyndeyrn checked his modest of 13, he rolled 6.

"Sir Acwel does not rule Sarum," Cyndeyrn will be 'kind' enough to point out to the peasants, though he is not so utterly coldhearted as to actually argue they be left out to die. "We will not leave you to freeze, but we - or I, at least - will report truthfully on the circumstances under which we found you, and it will be up to Lord Robert to determine what ought be done about your husbands thieving, or perhaps whatever lord you lived under and stole from." With that he turns back toward the rest of teh group, noting now some introductions being made. "I am glad I finally got to see you in your armor, Sir Arian, as I did not get a chance the last time we crossed paths." Then, toward his sister, he offers in a plainer tone, "They were untrained and likely starving men. Little test for a proper knight and little accomplishment in besting. I am simply glad they will not cause further harm."

Kamron checked his chaste at 13, he rolled 9.
Kamron checked his Modest at 13, he rolled 8.

Kamron nods along with Lysanor's introduction, chuckling a little ruefully at Arian's reminder that she's already met Cyndeyrn… and then Sir Arian continues speaking, and he chokes a little, looking over at her and shaking his head. Her mischievous smile quirks a little at one corner, "I thought that you and your brother would be good to have along, Sir Arian." Still, he chuckles, starting to guide his horse back along the path through the woods, leaving the minions to clean things up. Well, the minions and Acwel. "I have no need to show off for anyone…" there's a pause, and he adds, "…although I must admit that it can be fun."

Lysanor looks to pay little attention to the exchange between her brother and the thieves of if she does pay them any mind, she looks oblivious to the conversation. Things will be sorted out once they return to Sarum. "We travel pass Laverstock often enough on our way to Broughton. The area is lovely." She would say more if Cyndeyrn didn't decide to downplay the hard work of the group but rather than continue to offer them praise, she simply let's this matter go." Though her attention is piqued, when she asks, "Oh, that was your brother? How delightful. Do you often work close together, to watch one another's backs?" At the very mention of Kamron showing off, Lysanor lets out a gentle laugh, "You have no need, dearest cousin, but you so often do." Here, she surely jests!

Arian checked her lustful of 13, she rolled 17.
Arian checked her chaste of 7, she rolled 19.

Arian's expression remains impish as she regards Kamron. "Yes, I know… a wise move, inviting my brother along…" Then she returns her focus to Lysanor even while her roan fusses with the bit in his mouth, flanks shivering with a hint of anxiousness. "Yes, that's my brother, Sir Lainn Laverstock…" The question draws a soft laugh from her, and her smile is in full blossom. "My father wouldn't have it any other way… I might as well be my brother's perpetual squire, knighted or not." She tilts her head slightly. "It was the only way my father would allow me to follow in my brothers' footsteps and become a Knight… if Lainn took responsibility for me." Her smile turns into a smirk. "Good thing I like my brother, or I would find his presence irritating."

Cyndeyrn checked his chaste of 13, he rolled 7.

"I must admit, Sir Arian, that the thought of my own sister taking up knightly vows and duties would give me concern as well, as it surely would our father, so I can understand your own family's hesitations. Still, you are clearly able to handle yourself." Cyndeyrn is likely one of those who often baffled in the presence of such knights of the feminine variety, although it seems that in such a setting, armed and armored and now with blood on the ground, he can adjust to thinking of her as a sister-in-arms rather than a lady! Which, all in all, may be easier for him anyway. "But that is good, as you say, that the two of you are well-matched for such things. As a pair, I am sure you are all the more sure on the field and well-accustomed to working together. A great advantage, I imagine." Now, finally, he glances over, perhaps disdainfully, to see if the peasants have gathered themselves up, before suggesting, "We should not linger overlong in the cold, in any case. Let us escort this lot back and make our report."

Kamron walks his horse slowly down the wooded path as the Sergeants get the last of the goods (and bodies) into the cart and start hauling it out as well. He laughs merrily at the words of the two women, "Only because it is so entertaining, cousin." Once more, Arian's words make him choke, however, and he shakes his head, "You do like to torment me, don't you, Lady Arian? Although I should say that you have proved that you can do without your brother's presence at every moment with the way you dealt with those bandits. Quite commendable." And then something Cyndeyrn said catches his attention, "Wait… as a pair?" He starts to glance over toward Arian, and then his brain catches up further, "Ah yes, Sir Lainn and Sir Arian, yes, they do seem to work neatly together, don't they?"

Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 18.

With her adrenaline rush from the excitement of the day finally dying down completely, Lysanor leans forward to gently pat her white steed on the side of his neck, before once more straightening up within her seat. Her fingers were cold, frigid against the warmth of her horse's hide. "I am certain that my Lord Brother is relieved that I had decided not to take up arms and become a knight. And it seems that I do not have the excuse of being a small and fragile creature for you are barely taller than I." This she would have brought up much earlier, for it was always a strange thing to see these petite little Lady Knights dressed in such heavy armor as it is. Perhaps not as attentive as she can be at times, Lysanor misses some aspect of her cousin's look of surprise and rather than catch onto anything… odd, she goes on to say, "It's as if you weren't paying attention to our conversation at all, cousin."

Arian actually looks a touch bashful at the compliments from the Dinton Knight. Her smile softens and her cheeks pink faintly, and she nods her chin slightly. "Thank you, Sir Cyndeyrn." The Lady Knight nods in agreement to his assessment on her and Lainn. "Sir Lainn was always my closest brother… I had four of them growing up. I enjoyed being their shadow, chasing them into the yard in hopes of being included. Lainn was always kind enough to at least tolerate his little sister hanging around." She dimples at the memory. "I suppose that if I had sisters, I would have been driven on a different path." She glances to Kamron at his brief quest for clarification, and her gaze dances with satisfied amusement. "Thank you, Sir Kamron." Her attention shifts back over to Lysanor, and she nods. "The armor has taken quite a bit of adjustment, I admit. I hope one day to have some made for me, as I end up in my brothers' old squire armor. Luckily, they took good care of it…"

"Now that this is done," Acwel rides quietly, glancing over to Lysanor. "Do tell me, my Lady. What do you do for a pass time? Some knitting, perhaps? The reason why I ask is that I have always been intrigued by what is a lady's passtime at times where her expertises in keeping a household together are not necessary." His sword is sheathed after he runs cloth against it, seeking to wipe the blood off of the blade, lest it rust, which would be undesirable.

Critical Success!
Kamron checked his modest at 13, he rolled 13.

As they still talk of siblings, Cyndeyrn takes note of Arian's large number with some interest. "I have always adored my sister, but I think I would have enjoyed having some brothers as well, growing up. I am sure all their roughousing and the like is good for building strong young men, and that it must teach something about dealing with one's peers. Still, I suppose I simply had a good number of cousins instead, who served much the same place." Kamron is given a look at this and a small smile - which is a rare enough thing itself when it comes to the larger Dinton. Though the talk of armor does make him consider, "I suppose many brothers can be a hardship in that fashion, as difficult as it may be to equip them all sufficiently." And leading to all the resentment and sibling rivalry that follows, although this is further than he takes that thought.

Kamron laughs a little ruefully at Lysanor's words, "I'm rather glad you did not choose to become a knight, cousin." His laughter doubles, and he casts a grin over to his cousin, "Or I may have never made it myself." Glancing over at Arian again, he shrugs a little, "I can assure you, however, that Sir Arian is certainly not fragile. My ribs are still aching from the blow you struck when we sparred, Sir." Laughing easily, he proclaims, "To second-hand armor, may it never fail, no matter how out of fashion it may get." The knight pats his chest with his mittened right hand, "Or third-hand, I suppose. I'm not certain if my Sir Belles had this made for him or got it from someone else." The question from Acwel to Lysanor gets a chuckle, "Yes, cousin, do you stitch anything?" Cyndeyrn's commentary on cousins draws a nods, "I was about to say… weren't Brai and I enough?"

"I can't imagine wearing anything ill-fitting, especially something as heavy as armor. But for now, it will protect you and that is most important." Lysanor says with a nod to the discussion of Arian's armor. The one which Lysanor wears now is merely leather and was made for a woman's form, if not for hers in particular. Still, it must be far more comfortable than the armor which these knights wear. At Kamron's comment regarding her own possible knight-hood, the edge of Lysanor's lips tug up into the faintest of smirks. "I'm sure that I would have been knighted before you, dear cousin. Now I'm disappointed that I had no taken that path." Her words are all light and humorous, so when she turns to Acwel now, there is a lingering smile on her lips. "Do you not have a dear sweet sister, Sir Acwel? Are you two not so close to one another?" The inquiry itself makes her curious and yet she remains thoughtful of her own reply, "I have worked alongside my mother for many years. We don't simply have all of this spare time, as ladies, we are groomed with the idea that we shall one day run a household of our own. So we must be prepared. Outside of that, I like to walk among the trees and flowers and by the riverside. And to spend time with embroidery and the like with the other ladies over tidbits of gossip, I suppose." Idly, her gaze drifts to watch as the knight's blade is cleaned of the foul blood upon it, but soon enough her eyes lift once more.

The Laverstock woman offers a warm laugh at Cyndeyrn's thoughtful assessment, though there is a soft twinge of sadness deep within the expression of contentment. "My father encouraged healthy rivalry, and that a training yard fight was good for them now and then as long as they also learned courtesy and humility." Then she offers a slight shrug and a nod. "I have made due with my brother's childhood hand-me-downs, but I do hope one day to earn my own armor. In time, I suppose." Her smile warms at Kamron's compliment, and she raises her hand to her own side. "Mine too, Sir Kamron… you have a surprising amount of strength and precision in your strikes." She does turn an interested ear to Lysanor's response to Acwel, and her mouth twitches with unspoken amusement.

"We are close, but I spent most of my youth away in another fief, a squire to Sir Gwion's father. Thus, I did not have enough time to correspond with Lady Seren for the longest time," Acwel replies, sheathing the sword once it is clean as he continues to look at Lysanor. "Indeed, you are. When your husbands are away, at any rate, this is what is traditional for a lady. To be the manor's heartkeeper, as is right." She enumerates her hobbies and the knight considers the auburn-haired beauty's words carefully. "I suppose that affords you some tranquility."

"Of course you would have, cousin. You're far brighter than me and better born as well." Kamron flashes his crooked grin across to Lysanor, letting the expression expand as he looks back to Arian and shrugs helplessly with a soft single of mail, "Like I said. Sometimes it's the small ones you have to worry about, Sir Arian." Acwel's words draw another chuckle, "And that is a crying shame, too, Sir Acwel. Your sister's writing is some of the finest I've seen." Explaining to the others, he notes, "She is a Scribe for Earl Robert, I had the opportunity to enjoy spending time in her company while I was serving in Sarum myself."

Arian checked her suspicious of 10, she rolled 6.

Lysanor checked her profession of 15, she rolled 13.
Critical Fail!
Lysanor checked her profession of 15, she rolled 20.
Chirurgeonry checks.

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