(514-02-15) Childhood Injuries
Summary: After his fight with Caerwyn in Sarum, Landon returns home to Baverstock, escorted by Lysanor who has tasked herself to heal his wound.
Date: February 15 514
Related: This Log immediate follows these two logs in this order: Organizing Over Dinner, Age Old Bavercombe Tradition
landon lysanor bryce edwyn 

Landon left the market only when his common folk were good and ready to leave, which generally meant waiting until the sun was caught on the lower angle of the day and that some of the ride home would be made against the dusk of the impending night. Torches were lit at that point to keep the party moving on the road back from Sarum, even with the last pale touches of the sun caressing the low band of the horizon. Landon was favouring his side on the trip back as he swayed in the saddle of his Palfrey, from where Caerwyn had struck with a tremendous force. Readjusting in the saddle several times to try and lesson the irritation of it. His mood at least tempered from earlier, once they broke off from the town and away from the source of his ire.

As she had promised, Lysanor waits for Landon to be ready for the return home, even if it meant wasting some of the day when she should have been back in Dinton to pack. Still, she was not leaving without the Baverstock, especially now that Seren was safely drawn elsewhere and away from the clutches of Caerwyn. So with little more to do, the young Dinton purchased any and all supplies which she would need, having her retainers strap the satchels to her horse and only once Landon is ready to depart, does she trail alongside him. She had known the young man since childhood, even if she knew his brother even more. Eventually, she calls out, leaving the young man to his quiet brooding, being all the more used to it from the Baverstock boys, "Is it truly a tradition between your families? I can't say that I've witnessed it often enough and just assumed that Sir Caerwyn merely invented it to goad you into a fight." Her careful gaze watching the way in which he is settled upon his horse and the side which he favors, Lysanor continues, "Still, you did splendidly and will most likely make the Burcombe think twice about who he tries to goad."

Having heard of a fight between his brother and a Baverstock Edwyn decided to ride to Baverstock and make sure no lasting damage was done. The Burcombe knight rides on a dark bay riding horse. His expression is calm if a bit concerned and his horse trots along briskly. Its not long until he spots Lysanor and Landon riding ahead of him. Urging his horse he trots up beside them before slowing his mount down once more. Lysanor gets a low and very polite incline of his head. "Lady Lysanor, its a pleasure to see you again. I hope you are well?" Landon is given a glance and a polite nods, Edwyn doesn't seem to recognize him but he does note the stiff way the man rides. "A pleasure to meet you Sir." He offers politely and then looks back to Lysanor. "I heard something troubling…that my brother is going around picking fights with no true cause to do so. I had hoped to speak with whoever it was he fought." His tone is calm though there is a troubled and concerned look in those warm brown eyes of his.

"He didn't goad me-" Landon replies with that Baverstock grumble of a voice, "He challenged and I accepted. Mine Uncle told me I ought to be prepared for it, because of my size, many will want to for the hell of it." He glances back over his shoulder to check on the caravan of people and carts, which were well pleased with the escort service from the Baverstock himself. Maybe not about the fight, as some of the more wizened characters gave him those parental looks of disapproval. He does smirk though at the matter of the tradition, "They do throw rocks over the river though and we wail 'em back." Apparently that was all he was going to say on the matter. The smattering of details precisely why the Burcombes and the Baverstock's didn't get along wasn't his doing, at least. His arm he throws over the cantle of his saddle, reins loosely held laced between his fingers. "He might not think twice," he muses, "Though, I'm glad I did not lose that bout. It's a little easier to swallow after he toppled me." And speaking of the Burcombe, one appears out of thin air. His eyes flash toward Edwyn, "Wrong side of the Sarum road, Burcombe. I wish no more pleasure of your families' prowess this day." He fully suspects the Burcombe to seek out retribution for the loss. Evidently answering that way, he marks himself as the target of Caerwyn's goading. But it wasn't goading!

"I am corrected then." Lysanor says in response, her words light and perhaps sprinkled with a touch of knowing humor. She knew men and these knights well enough, when it came to their honor and such challenges, but she will say no more of this. "And now people will sing praises to you for many have witnessed the fight in the market and what an incredible match it was." Though at the time, she may have fretted somewhat when Caerwyn looked to have the upper hand, most of that tension seems to have finally faded and only her concern on the young knight's health remained. "Do not forget that Burcombe has a long standing feud with my family as well. I wouldn't be surprised if they had one with each and every one of the families of Salisbury." With the approach of another and not part of the Baverstock caravan, one of the Dinton's own retainers walks up in an attempt to let her know that a stranger approaches. Though it is the odd sound of hooves, one which breaks the monotony of the sounds of their own mounts as this one gallops a little faster as if to try and catch up with them. Thus, she turns her head in the direction of the stranger only to realize that she knows the man enough and still she is a touch wary by his presence. Nevertheless, she graces Edwyn with a smile and a polite bowing of her head, "You have heard correctly, Sir Edwyn." She speaks up, even if Landon doesn't want to have any part of the family from across the river. "For the most part, Sir Landon is doing well, but I'm sure," And here her eyes look to the Baverstock Lord, "that he appreciates your concern."

"So it was you he fought then." Edwyn replies calmly with a touch of concern studying Landon with a steady gaze. He inclines his head accepting the angry tone and offering a much calmer response. "Forgive me for intruding I simply wished to offer an apology for my brothers actions. Not all of those in Burcombe wish to cause trouble and start fights with everyone they see. So I offer my apologies and I sincerely hope you are alright after the encounter." His tone is calm and polite, it holds no malice or ill will, only concern and understanding as to why his family is so poorly viewed. He starts to turn his horse away intending to give the man some space now that he has said what he felt he must. Lysanor is given a polite nod and a small smile as Edwyn prepares to take his leave of the group.

Landon shakes his head with wry amusement at the matter of having his praises sung, "Which will only draw more fights I'm sure, now that I've been tested and proven against one of the Burcombe's." There was a system in place after all and knights tended to want to test their mettle against one another before the tournies to know who they had to worry about, "I can only hope they won't sing too loudly." His hand idly draws across his ribcage where he felt the power of Caerwyn's strike. He nods at Lysanor's mention of the feud. He knew her as well, though not as closely as Bryce. The motion of that retainer and the word of a coming rider - which turns out to be Edwyn had inspired the initial quip. Lysanor's more polite greeting to the man shores up Landon's own upbringing and once Edwyn makes a sentiment of apology and concern, lacking the desire to test himself against Lan as well, does the Baverstock release the tension in his shoulders. "You should not carry the burden of your brother's choices-" he says in a wise voice to Edwyn as the other Burcombe is to make his way apart from their caravan, "A proper challenge can be worthy of merit once and a while-" he picks up the name from Lysanor, "Sir Edwyn. As long as it doesn't become habit to batter down your neighbour's door rather than the bandits in the thickets." He grunts, "You need not turn away if you wish not to peril the darkening roads alone. You've more to travel yet, to return to your manor." See, he could be polite.

The young Dinton lady will not stop Edwyn from voicing his own apologies nor will she call him out when he turns to depart, she will leave that up to Landon. Only once the Baverstock speaks, does she finally intone, "Sir Landon is right, just by your coming to visit and making certain that all is well, this, I believe, is a good first step for our families to come to even a small inkling of understanding. And besides," The red-head's features remain warm, though there is a hint of mirth in that smile upon her lips, "Your Lord Brother was kind and… honorable in the fight itself." As there was no cheating of unfair play! "Even though he did lash out in such a fury, it would seem." As Landon is the one to extend the invitation to the Burcombe, Lysanor turns to regard Edwyn with a look of curiosity to see whether the young man will accept.

What is said has Edwyn slowing his horse as he turns it about. He glances back at Lysanor and Landon and considers them both before turning back and going to join them once more as they ride along. "Thank you, I did not want to impose if my presence was unwelcome. And I know I should not feel the need to carry the burden of my families actions. But I do….I want to prove that we are not all bad. I know my family can be rather aggressive at times and prone to bragging but I do not share those values. I try not to anyway. We should worry more about those who pose true threats rather than starting rivalries with all our neighbors." He speaks calmly but with conviction, as though he firmly believes what he says. He falls silent now his expression thoughtful and he looks to Lysanor with a soft smile and a faint look of surprise. "My brother fought in an honorable manner? Then I suppose that in itself is a blessing."

What is said has Edwyn slowing his horse as he turns it about. He glances back at Lysanor and Landon and considers them both before turning back and going to join them once more as they ride along. "Thank you, I did not want to impose if my presence was unwelcome. And I know I should not feel the need to carry the burden of my families actions. But I do….I want to prove that we are not all bad. I know my family can be rather aggressive at times and prone to bragging but I do not share those values. I try not to anyway. We should worry more about those who pose true threats rather than starting rivalries with all our neighbors." He speaks calmly but with conviction, as though he firmly believes what he says. He falls silent now his expression thoughtful and he looks to Lysanor with a soft smile and a faint look of surprise. "My brother fought in an honorable manner? Then I suppose that in itself is a blessing."

As the riders keep their horses to the road along the river Nadder, the sound of hoofbeats of a number of riders can be heard coming from further ahead. Half a dozen riders, in fact, one more familiar face leading a group of five sporting the red and black of Baverstock. Word had traveled ahead obviously, of the small group of riders heading towards Baverstock Manor, and reached Landon's one and only older brother, Sir Bryce, who now has rode out to meet them, even beyond the vicinity of the not so dear neighbour of Burcombe. He carries a torch in one hand, the reins of his black steed Devil held in the other, reins that will be pulled at to bring the horse to a halt. "Who rides there…?", a cautionary question bellowed until he recognizes at least some of them. "Brother!", concern flickers in his gaze as he spots Landon, then his gaze shifts to Lysanor, and he inclines his head. "My lady." The third rider will be eyed with curiosity that so far is not hostile. Darkness, and a lesser familiarity with the youngest Burcombe saving the knight perhaps from a less friendly greeting. "Sir."

"I hardly know you personally Sir Edwyn to judge if your presence is wanted or not," though they were neighbours, the Baverstock boys didn't make effort to go over to play with the Burcombe boys - unless it was with fists or the like. "Your brother though," his hand sliding over his rib cage again, "He's quite the romantic… insulting a man that bested him in swords before trying to woe a fair lady." He was amused at that, at least, even if a seed of vengeance had been planted. He strains up in the saddle, the pace of their caravan had not been exactly what he had hoped. Maybe he had been slowing down the train? He hadn't increased the pace the entire time. The good people who had to walk in the train would be thankful, but often they could grab hold of the wagons and sit on the edges or the tail gates. They'd reach Burcombe long before Baverstock which meant a ways to go. He glances at Edwyn though, when the Burcombe seems grateful for the honourable fight of his brother, "By that remark alone, it sounds as if I should be more cautious to get dirt thrown in my eye should there be a next time." And there likely would be. The sound of horses and the sight of torches coming has Landon shifting to sit up straighter, hand on the hilt of his sword. It could be bandits as the darkness made it harder to see the heraldry from afar. "Ho ahead!!" He shouts out, in warning. Then at the sound of his brother's voice, he relaxes, "Hylo!" Relief it wasn't bandits.

"With your brother's recent act of fair play," Despite Caerwyn's rude bragging that followed. "And your own desire to lighten the view of your House, perhaps the world will open their eyes to a new Burcombe." Lysanor says and even in this darkness, the lightness in her smile can be clearly heard within her voice. There is very little more for her to add, believing it best for the two men to work things out amongst themselves, though between keeping a wary eye on Landon, so that due to whatever pains him, he does not falter or fall out of his saddle, she does spare Edwyn a cautious glance, despite her own polite friendliness to the man.

The sound of horse hooves can be heard in the distance, coming from the direction which they now ride. And though she may have initially been concerned that the bandits which her own brother spoke of may plague the paths in the night, hearing the Lord of Baverstock's voice brings her great relief. Drawing in a deep breath, her own posture seated even more rigidly upon her snow white mount, she calls out warmly, "Sir Bryce, I hope that your evening has been a pleasant one." Of course, she may have been the one to have sent word to Landon's brother, but she didn't need him knowing this fact unless she is confronted with the matter.

The sound of his brother's voice makes it easier for Bryce to recognize Landon, as the flickering light of torches is not really reliable, even at dusk. "At least you're still alive," the Lord Knight of Baverstock intones with a likewise relieved chuckle. "I thought an escort would be helpful, we know how the woods have been lately." Then his head turns towards Lysanor and the other knight riding in her vicinity. "The evening was pleasant until I received a message about my brother choosing to duel a Burcombe in Sarum," he confesses, confidence prevailing over concern in his tone. "It is of course even more pleasant now, that I see he is with such sensible company. Lady Lysanor. I trust you are headed for Dinton, or will you accept the hospitality of Baverstock for one night." His gaze shifts to Edwyn, and indeed, his expression dims somewhat, having caught the address of 'Burcombe' from Lysanor's words to the man. "Good eve, Sir. A young Burcombe I am not yet acquainted with. I am Sir Bryce, head of the neighbours your family is not on friendly terms with." He inclines his head towards Edwyn nonetheless, not denying him the courtesy he deserves.

"We still live. You doubted my ability!?" He chides his older brother, even if he was semi-slouching in the saddle. He got pummeled hard and being on horse back didn't really amount to doing the battering any good. Then a soft snort from his nose. "Word travels fast-" Landon suspiciously airs that sentiment without directing his gaze to anyone. It could have been anyone who sent word ahead, though he didn't like it nevertheless that word had beaten his own arrival and sent Bryce to come after him. "When one has a practice sword thrown at you, do you tend to balk at such challenges dear brother? How else was I to handle it when there was a crowd of our peers watching on." It seems the Burcombe knight has fallen back from the conversation, likely because they were at the fork in the road that he must take to return to his manor - such excuses are made. Landon has the decency to clamp his fist and clank it against his chest, "Hail good Sir. Safe travels on the rest of your road." He watches briefly as the knight turns and hails them back on his departure. To Bryce he adds, "Sir Edwyn. The peaceful Burcombe." He anoints the fellow with that name for the sake of not having to fight him this very moment.

"Your Lord Brother did very well for himself." Lysanor comments when Bryce mentions the damper to his evening, "So I would only hope that you will be able to enjoy the remainder of the night, perhaps after some good food and drink where Sir Landon will be able to relate some of which had gone on." Even with the serious tone thrown about by both Baverstock men, the auburn haired Dinton keeps to a warm and gentle voice to help lighten the mood. She does share a look with Bryce, seeming grateful that he had not outed her as the messenger, no matter what Landon may have thought. Then to the invitation to stay at Baverstock for the evening, she considers it for an all too brief moment, but her duty does have her state, "I am hoping that Sir Landon will allow me to look upon his wounds. From what I can tell," She says lightly, "I am not overly concerned of the damage, however, I do note that there is some aggravation there and I wish to help relieve some of that pain." From Landon, her bright gaze turns to his brother now, "Yes, I am headed to Dinton. There are a few things that I need to do before the journey to Exeter," and here she knows that their own missions differ, "But I was hoping to speak with you before my brother and his group headed out to Tilshead, Sir Bryce. With that in mind." Her smile broadens gently, "I graciously accept your invitation. After the journey and a rather excitement-filled day, the rest of the way home, to Dinton, does seem rather trying in the dark."

"I've never had reason to doubt your ability, Landon," Bryce replies with a chuckle of slight protestation. His gaze follows Edwyn as he departs, a nod offered in goodbye to the knight, even if he is a Burcombe. "So I trust this 'peaceful' Burcombe wasn't the one you owe your current discomfort to?", he asks, straightening in the saddle as his head turns to regard his younger brother. "Of course, a challenge must be accepted, especially," and here he leans forward, reins kept in check as Devil starts prancing once again, "when it is issued by a Burcombe." Saying as much, as they ride onwards, leaving that fork in the road behind towards their destination.

After some time, the road leads them past a village, then through a smaller kind of gate house, before they arrive in the yard of Baverstock Manor. "We are here," Bryce announces with a smile, gesturing his men to dismount and bring the horses to the stables. Dismounting himself, Bryce holds onto the reins of Devil until a stable boy arrives whom he can hand them to. A second stable hand and another servant will take care of Lysanor's white steed, and Landon's, as soon as Bryce himself has assisted him in getting out of the saddle. "Brother… I believe you need rest. And perhaps a healer, to check on you." A brief glance there, along with a smile shot in Lysanor's direction. "I shall have a room prepared for you, my lady, as you've stated you'd accept the invitation to be our guest tonight. If you would be so kind as to… have a look at my brother's injuries. I shall be with you in a moment." The warm smile she had given him, it will find a belated echo in the glance Bryce gives her, a faint curving of his lips as he inclines his head towards Lysanor de Dinton, leading the way then into the manor proper, soon engaged with giving servants orders regarding the room and a late supper, and answering the questions of his uncle Lorcan who has apparently been waiting for them.

Once things were settled, Landon had gone to one of the 'rooms' in the private quarter of the manor. His was on the lower rank scale for rooms, behind his uncle and his brother, so it lacked a fourth wall. He would be shuffled out if necessary to make room for Lysanor if the guest room could not be properly prepared. Nothing so far, had come to him about such a need, so his armor was put on the stand after one of the squires aided him out of it - not his squire, since he hadn't claimed to train one yet, with his own recent knighting was far too recent in his mind to take on a boy just yet. The said lad had brushed out of the room to head on to the other knights in the manor or return to his own. He thanked the lad on his way out and took up the wooden mug of ale that he had been poured along the way. He was glad for Bryce's aid on the dismount and the escort home, but now, he was lifting his shift up after a subsequent gulp of ale, to inspect the damage that had made him so stiff in the dismount. His whole right side of his ribcage was bruising and the skin red with the swelling on the outer rims.

Only once Bryce had taken his leave to make preparations for her own accommodations as well as for supper, does Lysanor saunter about the manor rather aimlessly, taking in some of the details and decor and everything that makes the Baverstock manor different from that of any other family's, including her own. She knows enough to leave Landon alone so that he may relax somewhat and begin the dearmoring process, so for the time being, she leaves him this space. After a while, she will look through her own supplies, making her own preparations and taking these over to where the younger Lord now waits. Standing a short distance away in a long, thoughtful observation of the man's injury, she finally steps up and settles down, laying out all of her supplies neatly. "Let me take a closer look at your side, My Lord and tell me what discomfort you feel, if anything." And here, the young woman reaches out to press very gently around the most obvious bruising, perhaps to see if there are far more serious issues at hand, like a fracture or even the possibility of a broken bone, though there is no evidence of this that she can clearly see.

Landon checked his modest of 13, he rolled 9.

Landon checked over his shoulder at the movement at the entrance of the room. It wasn't too lavish, in fact, it lacked much decor save for a clay vase on a rickety made table, that had been long empty as flowers were out of season. His hand still held up his stained (from sweat) undershirt as he had been inspecting it. "It looks worse than it probably is," he counters though he doesn't go to hide the injury in case there was something worse going on underneath. His eyes consider the tools of her trade, the supplies that she has dug out for his sake. "You are thoughtful to take time out to see to me, my Lady," his voice was quieter now that they were in the manor but seemed to boom all the same - likely because of his size his voice just sounded larger than it was. Her prodding fingers has him wince. No one ever likes having a bruise poked and prodded at after all. There was a sucking of breath between his teeth as she does touch the flesh over one of his ribs. It wasn't broken at least. It was the center of the injury however. "Ow, that's… that's the spot…" and he'll sling back some more ale.

So focused on her work, Lysanor leans in close to carefully inspect the discolored section and while her eyes need not lift to gauge the man's reaction to some of her prodding and poking, for she can easily see the way the muscles in his torso tenses at each tender touch, she still does look upon him if only to offer Landon a comforting smile on her own fair features. "By now, you should be used to this, My Lord. What with all of the scrapes that you, your brother and even my own have accumulated over the years. Some far more distressing than this one, I would think." She eventually withdraws, shifting to where she is kneeling upon the floor to soak one of her clean cloths with a chilled bowl of water set aside for just this purpose. Her array of medicines and tools are carefully placed in a neat row upon a tarp on the floor, in it are several bowls among many bits of cloth and bandage. "Let me cool the bruising down so that it does not become all the more inflamed, though this should have been done at the immediate onset of the wound. But this should help to sooth the skin for now." The cold damp cloth finds its way upon the darkened areas of the man's skin as she dabs at the section a bit, applying gentle pressure every so often.

"Maybe it hurts more because of the one who wielded the blade or the fact that I gave him the opening to do it," Landon glances down to where she's kneeling, attending to him. Being they were all childhood playmates at some point, the fact that she's doing so is almost second nature. She probably had been the one to patch up scraped knees and elbows when the younger and then shorter, Landon, took the beatings of his older and then taller, whilst in play. "I shouldn't have been so clumsy," though that almost comes with his height at times. "Would it be easier if-" nope, she's applying the cloth and dabbing against him. He was well built, robust at least, which meant his uncle hadn't gone easy on him. Some teased that he could probably wrestle a tree and rip it out with his bare arms with how he filled out over the years. He'd been the growing weed in essence of the Baverstock line, where poor Bryce got his height from his mother's side. The cooling does help, but, while she does that, he has to ask something, "You stitched up my brother too, recently?"

You check your firstaid at 14, you rolled 7.
Lysanor rolls 1d3 and gets (3) for a total of: (3) This healed all 3 of his wound points.

"Just the fact that it was a Burcombe alone and an especially boisterous one, despite that you had won," Lysanor's gaze lifts once more from her duty to peer up into Landon's eyes as if to emphasize that last part, "His rudeness after the fact sheds light on his sportsmanship, nevertheless." Yes, while Landon may have grown up from the small boy that she may have remembered, Lysanor did not. She was always and still is a small creature, but as long as the tall knight is seated upon his bed, the wee young healer continues to do her duty unhindered. Once the bruise has been cooled and saturated for a time, Lysanor rinses out the cloth and sets it aside, before she removes a cloth gauze which had been soaking in yet another small bowl. "I'm used to tending to much taller knights than myself, but if I did need you to move, then I will let you know." This damp poultice which had been soaking in the healing herbs since she had first set up her tools is now placed firmly upon the still discolored section of skin. "This should help to further alleviate the swelling and hopefully quicken the healing process. It seems to be a very bad bruise," Here, Lysanor's young handmaiden approaches and helps to keep the poultice secured in place against Landon's side, just as Lysanor, herself, unwinds a very long length of cloth which she then rises so that she may better wrap and cover the entirety of his waist. "If there is some small fracture of sorts, the poultice and a tightened bandage should be able to keep it from getting worse." And here she looks at the younger Baverstock directly now, looming closely to him as she pauses in her bandaging, "Just make certain that you do not jostle yourself about and get some adequate bedrest for the next couple of days."

As for the question regarding Bryce, Lysanor has already withdrawn a touch so that she begins to finish up with the bandaging at hand. Without even looking at Landon, she replies, "A short while ago he was injured by an archer, a bandit. Luckily, it wasn't serious and I was not needed to handle anything greater." There is a pensive look on her features when she continues, "And you both will be out seeking bandits once more. I will pray for your safe journey, though I have confidence in your skills as well as my own kin who you will be joining."

Landon does make a noise to agree with Lysanor's words, "His rudeness reflects on his teachers and his upbringing. Sir Edwyn must have been squired away from his relatives," he assumes at any rate. He did sit down, at some point, to aid her with the healing since he was quite a giant over her at his far reaching height. A nod is pressed from him as she recognizes his uncertain positioning to comment on it. "I'm glad that is all it is," he checks the poultice that she's applied, having lifted his arm out of the way so that she could work it around his lower ribcage and waist. He ducks or moves as appropriate to help her and the handmaiden who had come to aid in the routine of wrapping an injury. "I appreciate it Lady Lysanor," he is a good patient at least, trying to do what he can to make it easier to wrap his bulk - a distinctive amount of cloth and gauze was needed here more than other knights, his he had quite a barreling chest. "Considering the time of year, bedrest shouldn't be an issue, though I had hoped to help with the field work. It keeps a knight humble and closer to his roots of his people to sow the seeds." Apparently he hadn't been advised that he'd be needed on a more important task than helping the peasants with planting crops. As his eyebrows raise for her words about seeking bandits. "Such a quest I would have expected to be appraised on by mine uncle or good brother! Is what you say truth?"

"He is an odd one." Lysanor says absently, her attention more focused on her work, though all she has to do left is finish the bandaging. "Do you trust him? I would like to be able to trust him even with House Burcombe's reputation." With one hand grasping onto one edge of the bandage, she moves both hands to where the man's torso is now tightly, yet comfortably wound, to ensure that there is no movement or loosening of cloth before she finally makes a snip, removing the excess length. Now, she simply works to tuck the edge between the already wrapped portions to keep it snug and secure. "You are very welcome, Sir Landon. To be honest, though, as much as I like to keep my own kin and the knights of your own family safe, I would much rather have none of you returning home with injuries that need tending." In the background, it is the handmaiden who now begins to sort the supplies and work to put them all away. Then, what Landon brings up gives Lysanor pause, only now realizing that she had not said a word to him about it. Nevertheless, her features remain warm, even if she looks slightly abashed by this error, "My apologies that I had not informed you, but my Lord Brother had a meeting the other day regarding a missing nobleman who had not shown up to our court when he should have and there was some concern that on his travels, perhaps, something had gone awry. My brother believes it may be bandits, for there was a rise in their activity as of late. I…" She bites her bottom lip briefly, "I had asked if perhaps he would consider both you and your brother to attend to this mission alongside him and a few others. I had let your brother know about this just recently and I'm sure that he would have informed you of the issue at supper, perhaps. Of course, this was a mere suggestion on my part and now an invitiation from my brother, if you and Sir Bryce will accept."

"I would give him the benefit of the doubt as he has not earned my mistrust," Landon says graciously and in a custom to the way he was raised, "Though he carries the name of his House, perhaps it will be as he says, that he wishes to mark a change in the typecast of the Burcombe's." His eyes consider the bandage as she secures it, knowing beyond a doubt that it wouldn't come undone unless he tugged on it. "Your years of practice have made you all the more skillful. Was it all the cuts I managed to incur in our youth?" He marks with a quiet tug on his lips, waiting until he was safe enough to pull down his shirt over his head again. He does crook a half grin at her realization of the error. He does listen, his features going grave at the mention of what the mission entailed. "You were good to think of us to support your brother in this dire mission. I suspect we will need to leave soon to ensure that if the nobleman is in the hands of the bandits or… not, we find him sooner than later. The longer we wait, the more we gamble upon his life, endangering him to the elements if not the bandits themselves." In his mind he has already accepted, but he announces it, "No doubt Bryce will, and in turn, I most certainly will."

Lysanor check your trusting at 10, you rolled 15.
Lysanor check your suspicious at 10, you rolled 19.

To Landon's wise words, Lysanor nods along, even if some of her own personal beliefs may sometimes conflict with the values which she was raised with as well. "I do hope that Sir Edwyn speaks the truth and in the coming months or years, a new House Burcombe will flourish." Having already stepped back to allow the young Baverstock his space and room to change, she continues on, "He is also a British Christian, unlike his brethren, so I do hold some hope for him." Now that her work here is done, she moves to assist her handmaiden with the last of her packing, pouring the remainder of the poultice solution into a small jar while the other girl goes to dump out the water in the first bowl, which was used to cleanse and cool the bruise initially. Hearing just the slightest reminiscence about their childhood together, Lysanor smiles fondly, "In these times, you learn to grow up quickly. But yes, you especially, could not escape getting scraped up. Perhaps it was due to your sudden quick growth." While she makes no mention of lankiness or clumsiness, she knows enough that such a growth spurt sometimes affects people in this manner. Now, to the serious business, that smile fading quickly. "You will need to prepare, for the journey will not be a short one, but my brother plans to set out in a few days time. I will be returning to Dinton to pack up some medical supplies for him, however, I will not be a part of the mission this time." Hinting, that strangely, she may have been a member in another such mission.

"That is all we can do, is hope," Landon says as a last remark on the matter of Edwyn and the Burcombes. If their line turns around and becomes more than what they were, that was not in his hands or in his mind to worry over. Instead, as they reminisce, he does laugh good naturedly for the reminder of what his quick spurt had caused. Lanky, gangly, and all over himself. The fondness stays in place for those days, when things were a little more innocent than what they were now - for indeed, growing up came fast and likely for Landon right around the time his father died in the field. The gravity of their mission and advised length of it has him nod, "Then I will need to ride back to the market once more, unless Bryce has seen to supplies for the both of us at this point." The hint that she would not ride with them this mission has him offer, "You will be missed. I don't think any of us have the gentle hands you do when it comes to bandaging. Bryce will definitely miss the opportunity to ride with you-" here he watches closely for her reaction.

Lysanor check your modest at 4, you rolled 8.
Lysanor check your proud at 16, you rolled 8.

"Unlike my dearest brother, you weren't always this… tall. Cyndeyrn was always a big child, towering over the other children and then adults at a young age." Lysanor says quickly, taking some joy from the memories of their past, despite how bleak portions of their lives may have been. "There was a time when as children when we were too busy to frolic and play, with the young women having their own lessons and the boys learning to fight. I remember missing some part of our youth where none of that really mattered. And then I learned and trained to become a healer, following in my Lady Mother's footsteps and only then did I find myself once more able to stand side by side with you all again." Though she has no qualms about her place in society as a woman, those innocent moments as children was sorely missed. Pondering on things now, Lysanor nods, "Your brother very well may have. You know him enough, he tends to always be prepared when he can. There is still some time left, but remember what I had said. You ought to rest before then." Now that all of her supplies, the empty bowls alike, have been neatly stored away, she saunters about the small room to continue with the rather warming conversation. However, something which Landon says does draw her attention, though her eyes do not look upon him now. For the briefest of seconds, it's as if she were frozen in time, but eventually she does move, a light laughter can be heard in her voice, "I am certain that he would be more interested in my healing skills than that of my riding skills." But then her tone subsides and she nods slowly, "It does make me nervous that I won't be there for," there is a sudden pause in her words and it seems that she may have altered what she would say when she continues next, "h..all of you."

Landon checked his Awareness of 11, he rolled 14. (For her Freezing)
Landon checked his Awareness of 11, he rolled 14. (For her 'nervousness')

"Quite a surprise for all of us, but when I grew an inch over Bryce for the first time, I thought that'd be it," he straightens out his shirt as he tugs and tucks it in place. "For a brief time, none of that mattered, you're right. I will cherish those times but I also cherish the moment I really dug into my lessons to become a knight. I worked hard, clumsy as I was for the first years as a squire. My uncle did not fail to reach -up- to clout me to the back of the head when I dropped his lance in tourney." He scrubs his head as if he remembers well that lesson to remain a firm grip on any weapon he carries. But then, they're talking of Bryce. And he watches intently for any change in mien for it. "I'll rest, only if I know for sure Bryce has the supplies we both need," otherwise, his tone implies he'll go out again to fetch them. Wouldn't you know it, she freezes and he doesn't even realize the change, caught more on the laughter than not. "Well yes, you did bind his wound," he notes, with a casual tone. And he misses the fact that she may have altered her words. He retorts, "You can't be there all the time for us. I'll look out for our brothers." He ensures with a polite grin.

When Landon speaks more of his childhood, telling her of the year he finally beat his brother in height, Lysanor remembers that year well enough, which brings the return of her gentle smile once again and even more so when she remembers how with each passing year, Landon kept growing and growing. The young knight then speaks of his trials as a squire to his own uncle and here the auburn haired maiden has to wonder, her eyes peering outside of the Lord's small room to see if she can catch sight of Lord Lorcan. Often times, he seemed sweet and kind, but then again, his demeanor may very well change when one is not in the presnce of a young neighboring lady, but of a squire who just dropped your lance. "I'm afraid I have a difficult time imagining that, but then again, my father is the same way. Strong and gruff. At times, I worried that he may be too hard on your brother, but Sir Bryce always endured and grew from that experience." The strangeness of their conversation regarding Bryce, however, does wane and the tone returns to one of normalcy. With Landon's final words, she nods firmly, giving him a reassuring smile, "I know that you will."

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