(514-03-27a) Picts Outside Exeter
Summary: The Ghost-Mission finds a hotter welcome than they would like as they near Exeter
Date: March 27, 514
Related: Off On the Road to Exeter. Followed immediately by Lord of Ravaged Lands
acwel kamron seren cyndeyrn lysanor arian edwyn emrys 


It has been a long day of riding, and the party has since shifted from the outskirts of Salisbury to stranger lands, perhaps skirting the border, perhaps further inside. The column hasn't had many incidents happen from their start in Sarum to the place they have camped last, but the sun is beginning to set. When the moon is bright in the dark sky, however, safety is entirely relative. Some whisper you can see the Fae if you venture too deep in the forests here, others, simply tell you that the Devil roams the high roads past midnight, making many a lonely traveler his victim.

But everything seems rather tranquil as the group nears what appears to be the border lines of a manor; the cross of the Savior alongside a talisman to ward off evil spirits might hint to the faith of the ruling family — British Christian.

Kamron rolls his shoulders inside the heavy chainmail sheathing his upper body, shifting in the saddle of his rouncey. The sign of the cross and the charm draws a slow nod from the man, "Well now. Perhaps we can arrange a night inside for a chance." A little laughter touches the words, "Not that I don't adore sleeping on cold ground in a tent, but a nice bed of rushes and a hearth would be delightful. And would give us the opportunity to catch up on some gossip from the locals. What do you say, Sir Acwel, shall we push on through the dark and see if we can't talk our way inside?"

Seren had ridden with little complaint, though this much was certainly not something she was physically used to. Books were her thing, old tomes, writing, more scholarly things. When they come up to the religious things beside the road, she gives them a curious once over. A cross, she understood what that meant, but she casts a questioning look towards her brother, using her free hand to tug the edge of her cloak around her more fully, shifting gingerly in her saddle. "I would trade my most prized possessions for a hearth and a bed of rushes," she says quietly.

"That might be advisable, Sir Kamron, so yes, let us try to talk our way in. I brought some coin to help matters some, anyhow." Acwel replies, though he is looking at the charm with some skepticity. He readjusts his helmet, glancing over to the quasi-caravan. "We are stopping here," he announces loudly, a mailed hand pointing to the manor. Seren's statement earns her a funny look from her older brother.

Cyndeyrn has endured the long trip in his usually stoic way and has largely proved true to his reputation for enjoying the outdoors. That being said, he does not hesitate to agree with the others, "It would do us well, best to arrive at our final destination well rested." Always a concern for those marching to war - and here, at least, perhaps to conflict. "It might also prove some opportunity to gather a little of the local gossip, soem information about the goings on in this area."

Lysanor, very much like Seren, is not used to these much longer journeys and especially when the air is still chilled that she is forced to draw her cloak further over her lithe form to ward off the cold. Still, she silently endures, knowing that their knights tend to take this journey more often and most will rarely ever complain about any of it. So riding close to her brother and somewhere near Seren, she turns to her non-knight companion, offering a smile to the other lady, as the others speak amongst themselves, "Perhaps we shall be lucky to find ourselves an Inn along this route. I'm afraid that I had not taken a better look at the map when my brother had shown it to me when I inquired about the journey." However, when Acwel mentions stopping here, directing their attention to the manor, Lysanor exchanges a supportive smile in the Woodford maiden's direction.

Failed.
Kamron checked his awareness at 9, he rolled 14.
Failed.
Seren checked her awareness of 8, she rolled 11.
Critical Fail!
Acwel checked his awareness of 10, he rolled 20.
Critical Success!
Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 9.
Failed.
Cyndeyrn checked his awareness of 8, he rolled 12.

And as they approach the manor, everything seems to be tranquil. Perhaps too much so. There is a certain calm in the air, but to some, especially Lysanor, it might seem unsettling, perhaps even unusual that there doesn't seem to be much in the way of activity happening.

The great hall appears to be having a party of some kind, the windows are open and so are the doors. There are people moving inside, and some noise, but nothing appears too loud, at the moment.

Undaunted, Acwel bids the group to proceed, "Let us go, perhaps we have found ourselves in good auspices this night." The knight of Woodford certainly doesn't seem convinced there is anything wrong going on, and so he has the horse march towards the great hall.

Kamron looks ahead, chuckling easily at the lights and open doors. He nods at Acwel's words, "Well, it looks like we won't have any closed doors in our face this time, at least." Patting the helmet at his side, he nods over to the two women, "Just a short distance further, Ladies. And then we can all rest our tired bones." Flicking his reins, he urges his young rouncey Dancer forward, the dun responding with a spirited step as if he can smell fresh hay and oats ahead.

Glad to be riding near Lysanor, Seren smiles at her with silent support, a look of understanding given. "Perhaps Acwel can work something out." Despite her attempt to keep it out, the hopefulness could easily be heard in her voice. The calm air is sort of nice and peaceful, she seems oblivious to any undertones of menacing feelings with the too tranquil quality. When bid to continue, she nods to her brother, a single incline of her head and she nudges her horse along.

Cyndeyrn does not seem to sense anything amiss at this manor as they come to it, although as ever he keeps within close proximity of his sister, riding just far enough ahead as not to actually be in her way and such that any threat will hopefully meet him first, ever proctive even when no actual threat presents itself to them. And none of this seems threatening! Perhaps his position puts him in charge of the ladies in general, as Seren rides close with his sister, although he avoids actually intruding on their space directly or joining their conversations, leaving them (at least for a great deal of the journey) some privacy in their 'women's talk.' But now with a destination ahead of them, they slow up and the whole of the train likely contracts a bit. "Likely best for one to make us known so we do not appear threatening," he will say by way of agreement with Seren, Acwel obviosuly nominated as the leader of their little band.

The warmth of the manor's hearth all sounds very inviting to Lysanor and she cannot wait to warm her hands by the fire some. "It sounds like a rather festive meal that they are having." She comments aloud to the group, that smile on her lips as her gaze lifts to look the manor over out of curiosity more than anything else. So, it was not her intention to take notice of some oddities which soon comes to mind once they draw closer and thus as the others push forward, it is Lysanor's mount that takes pause, looking upon the home more intently now. "Brother," She asks Cyndeyrn, her face looking at him now, even if her words are meant for the party in its entirety. Returning her attention to the manor, she then remarks, "The light, the blaze within. Does it not look as if it burns far brighter, more intensely than it should?"

Critical Success!
Kamron checked his awareness at 9, he rolled 9. (+5 Warning=Success, not a Crit)
Failed.
Acwel checked his awareness of 10, he rolled 19. (+5 Warning=Failure)
Critical Fail!
Seren checked her suspicious of 4, she rolled 20.
Success
Lysanor checked her suspicious of 10, she rolled 8.
Failed.
Cyndeyrn checked his awareness of 8, he rolled 11. (+5 Warning=Success)
Success
Arian checked her awareness of 10, she rolled 9.

Kamron frowns slightly at Lysanor's words, leaning forward in his saddle and reaching down to slip the leather sheath off the head of his axe, "I think you may be right, Lysie…" The frown deepens, and his hand stays at the haft of the axe, "I… I don't think that everything is alright there. That doesn't sound like any language that I know." Glancing over his shoulder, he gives a short, sharp little whistle, getting the attention of his squire Newt, then nods over toward Lysanor and Seren. The young Newton looks completely confused… obviously they're about to go find someplace nice to sleep, right? But he still obeys, shifting his own rouncey closer to the two non-knight Ladies.

When Lysanor speaks up, that enough is to give Cyndeyrn some reason to pause. As siblings, there is a certain trust they have in one another's instincts and so his sister's concern quickly

Arian's mulberry gelding shudders slightly as he comes up beside Kamron's own gelding. The Pagan knight has her focus on the house, but it doesn't take long before her gaze drops to the shadows and silhouettes moving about the manor. The strange language as her own lips tight, and she pulls up on her reins as a gentle warning to the dappled grey and red horse to stay on alert. "I agree," she says softly to Kamron's own assessment. "I do not think we should expect a friendly welcoming…"

When Lysanor speaks up, that enough is to give Cyndeyrn some reason to pause. As siblings, there is a certain trust they have in one another's instincts and so his sister's concern quickly becomes his own. Of course, caution for her means him actually pushing just a little further ahead, riding up so that he has a better view of things, and even in the process loosening his arms, in case they are needed. He makes it only part of the way before he sees, or at least hears something himself, as his cousin does. "Ladies, hold where you are." Now the process of reading his equipment becomes a dedicated, purposeful one, a quick draw. This done, he looks briefly side to side to make sure there are no other threats around them, and toward Acwel, for any signal.

Hearing Lysanor, Seren looks over towards her, but with nothing to be afraid of, and the promise of a warm fire and a soft place to sleep, she continues riding towards the manor, perhaps even increasing the gait of her horse, ready to dismount. It just looks so warm!

Still halted, her eyes now trained on the odd manor, Lysanor nods slowly to Cyndeyrn's request and if she does move forward, it is only to join Seren and that of Kamron's squire. She hears it too, what Kamron does, so that makes her all the more wary. It is to Seren whom she speaks with now as the others bravely move forward, "It is definitely a foreign tongue and the mood, itself, does not sound festive at all now." Looking to the Woodford maiden, she says, "Lady Seren, I do not know what the others will encounter upon reaching the manor."

Success
Cyndeyrn checked his valorous of 15, he rolled 4.
Failed.
Acwel checked his reckless of 10, he rolled 19.
Success
Acwel checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 6.
Success
Kamron checked his Valorous at 15, he rolled 5.
Critical Success!
Arian checked her valorous of 15, she rolled 15.
Success
Seren checked her valorous of 10, she rolled 6.
Failed.
Lysanor checked her valorous of 10, she rolled 11.
Success
Lysanor checked her cowardly of 10, she rolled 1.

With their final approach, an image becomes clearer: it certainly will become an image engraved in their memory for sometime: there is a number of peasant men dead. Men, in rudimentary armor, whose faces are painted in blue, demand a woman to go down on her knees, and as she cries, they seem to take pleasure in slapping her, mistreating her in every single way short of the worst of cowardices one can commit. They laugh, and laugh, and talk amongst themselves, one of whom is gorging himself in ale. Ale which these men likely stole. If there is a lord of this manor, he is either dead or too far away to realize that his home has now been defiled by invaders. Indeed, some things are being set on fire, but how it hasn't caught on to the rest of the house is anybody's guess.

Acwel is perhaps just a couple moments from rushing away into the house when he stops, suddenly, slowing down the pace of his horse and placing his hand upon the hilt of his sword. Where there was excitement to join these festivities is now … caution. For now, he issues no orders, other than, "Sirs, I suggest we draw and wait."

Success
Kamron checked his just at 16, he rolled 15.
Critical Success!
You check your reckless at 10, you rolled 10.

Kamron reaches back for the shield slung behind him, quickly pulling the straps tight around his left arm and then reaching down for his axe. There's no time to get his helmet on, or to switch horses to his charger, so the rouncey will have to do. The sight before him is too obscene. Looking sidelong at Acwel in disbelief, the Dinton cousin shakes his head, "I will not stand by while innocents are being abused, Sir." And then he puts heels to horse, taking the decision away from the knight who is ostensibly in charge of the expedition, raising his axe high and calling out, "FAMILY AND FAITH!" Guiding his horse forward with his knees, he aims directly for the attackers gathered around the captive woman.

Failed.
Edwyn checked his reckless of 10, he rolled 19.

Until now Edwyn has been the silent one in the group. Calmly riding along without compliant or much talking. As they near the settlement and he sees whats happening he instictively draws his blade. His dark eyes narrow in fury at the men. But Acwel's words reach him and he sucks in a slow calmly breath refrianing from charging in to help the woman. However when Kamron goes charging in he cannot sit idle he too charges it blade and shield at the ready, his white charger rushing forward in a charge. He says noting but he makes it a priority to attack those nearest the woman and if possible give her a way to escape.

It seems that Just Dinton is of one mind on this. Seeing the dead men alone has Cyndeyrn ready for action, ready to deliver the punishment the responsible party is owed for little more than that. But coming upon the men responsible, not amidst further combat with the men of the hall or otherwise, but rather abusing some helpless woman? Surely, their sentence is decided upon the spot! With no fear of the lot of them, drunken, cowardly, sinful lot that they surely are, he gives a nudge to his own mount and pushes forward to join his cousin's charge, echoing the family words so that they become a thunderous battle cry.

Seren needs no other encouragement, she has no armor, no weapon really, and she can see, literally, what happens to those that cannot fight back. Her face pales and she remains near Lysanor, averting her gaze by ducking her head and looking slightly off to the side, trying and failing to suppress a shudder. "My Lady," she murmurs to Lysanor, but nothing is added as the others ride off to the rescue. She looks, unable to not watch now that those she knew were putting themselves into the danger.

All that she can make out from her distance, all the carnage ahead, makes Lysanor draw her horse back just a step. There is something something wicked going on there and she is uncertain, still, as to who these men are and where they are from. "It's awful." She says, her eyes diverting for a mere moment. "Whoever did this. To these people. If we had not come across them, I almost believe that no man, woman or child would be spared this horror."

Perhaps it is the sight of the woman being brought to her knees, or the dead laying strewn around the manor lawn, but Arian reacts with the same kind of ferocity as the Dinton knights. She sets her knees into her gelding's side, drawing forth her own shield and sword with the scrape and hiss of metal. She turns her gaze toward the other briefly before she sets into a charge, her own voice joining to the loud cry of warning to the blue-skinned attackers.

Whether or not prudence was the best way to go about this, one thing is certain, the knights charge through the great hall, snapping these cruel Pict raiders from their reverie. The tallest among them lets out a warcry and picks up an axe from a nearby corpse, launching himself against Kamron.

The one imbibing ale throws the barrel aside and grabs a spear, fashioned in such a way the tip is jagged, so likely not by any sophisticated smith's technique. This one, it heads for Arian.

And two others who were simply occupied in hurting the woman — who has now scrambled for safety — well, they charge towards Edwyn.

Acwel has no choice, as the other knights have thus moved outside of his leadership, to join them in battle or be labeled craven. As such, he draws his sword, and has Saint charge towards the second Pict to engage with Edwyn.

There is a fifth, a fat morass of a tall man. He kneels, grabs a spear on the floor, and waits for the taller Dinton knight before surging towards the man in a lunge!

Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 3.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (9) for a total of: (9) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe=Success)
Kamron rolls 3d6 and gets (6 4 3) for a total of: (13) (13 - 12 Reinforced Mail - 6 Shield=0 Damage)
Failed.
Arian checked her horsemanship of 10, she rolled 18.

Arian's shield reverberates with the impact, and it sends a quake through her arm and body. The sheer impact is enough to unseat her, and she falls sideways off her horse's saddle to land solidly in the ground with a clatter of armor. Shock is her first sensation — after the pain, of course. She feels weighted by her armor, and she struggles to find her own footing. The mulberry gelding shifts and moves, dancing close to his rider with a toss of his black and red mane.

Success
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 12.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (20) for a total of: (20) (15 - 0 Great Spear=Crit Fail)
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (4 2 3 1 6 5) for a total of: (21) (21 - 3 Tattoos=18 damage)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (16) for a total of: (16) (Major Wound fail=Unconscious)

Trampling into the open hall, Cyndeyrn might well plan to hew through the lot of them, but his attention naturally fixates on the first man that presents himself as a target. Needless to say, he has a lesson in mind for the rapacious, poorly-armed, painted savage, and when the man brings his spear up to ward off the knight, he merely cleaves down through it with his stronger blade (and greater leverage of his mounted place and massive frame), shattering the wooden haft and continuing through into the man's shoulder. Whether it is the force of the blow or the pain and shock of it that sees the man crumple beneath he does not know, but it is of little concern as he Dinton knight quickly searches for another target - and ultimately turns toward the one with Kamron, as they did charge in together and he saw - at least briefly - his cousin outnumbered, although that seems quickly resolved.

Critical Success!
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 15. (Skill Split to 10 + 5 Mounted=Crit Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (9) for a total of: (9) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe=Success)
Kamron rolls 8d6 and gets (1 5 1 1 3 2 5 2) for a total of: (20) (20 - 3 Tattoos=17 damage)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (15) for a total of: (15) (Major Wound fail=Unconscious)
Success
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 1. (Skill split to 5 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (20) for a total of: (20) (15 - 0 Great Spear=Crit Fail)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (5 1 5 1) for a total of: (12) (12 - 3 Tattoos=9 damage)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (2) for a total of: (2) (Standing)

Jonnin Newton would love nothing more than to charge into battle with his new knight, but he's intelligent enough to follow orders, especially when he's guarding two lovely ladies. He draws his sword and then has to control his horse as it feeds off his nervousness. Kamron's squire hauls on the reins, then looks over to Seren and Lysanor, "You'll be safe here, M'Ladies." It would have been reassuring if his voice hadn't cracked in the middle of that, but at least the action of reassuring them seems to have reassured him.

Kamron charges right into the middle of the foes, using the superior weight of his horse to knock the axe-wielder back so that he can bury his own axe into the man's shoulder. Before he can do anything about his triumph, there is a sudden spear-point darting toward his unprotected head, and he lifts up his shield on pure instinct, the poorly-made weapon catching on the surface and shattering. Pulling his axe free of the falling raider, the knight slams his shield into the wielder of the former-spear, splitting the man's nose and sending him staggering back bloody-faced. Wheeling his horse about, he scans the interior of the hall even as he looks for a target. He starts toward Arian, but there is a wild-eyed Pict still in front of him, even if the man's spear is near-worthless.

Success
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 6.
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (4 1 1 6 1) for a total of: (13) (13 - 3 Tattoos=10 damage)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (14) for a total of: (14) (Major Wound fail=Unconscious)

Indeed, and that Pict attempts to attack Kamron with a savage lunge of the spear. The man is watching his comrades die all around him to a bunch of, in what is his mind's eye, overly couth sissies on horses, and as such he is completely enraged. Perhaps to his own detriment, considering what just happened to his best friend over there.

Even though Acwel let himself be the last man into the fray, he still strikes efficiently as the second Pict surges up on Edwyn. A clean slice of his sword against the already-wounded man's shoulder and neck area, an elicited splash of blood, and the man collapses. The Woodford is nothing if not absolutely, mercilessly cold in combat.

Success
Edwyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11. (Skill Split to 7 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3) (15 -5 Mounted Foe=Success)
Edwyn rolls 4d6 and gets (1 4 1 4) for a total of: (10) (10 - 3 Tattoos=7 damage)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (14) for a total of: (14) (Knocked Down)
Success
Edwyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8. (Skill split to 8 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (5) for a total of: (5) (15 - 0 Great Spear=Success)
Edwyn rolls 4d6 and gets (3 1 6 5) for a total of: (15) (15 - 3 Tattoos=12 damage)

Even with two men charging him Edwyn shows no fear. Once he is certain the woman is out of the way his blade comes down in an arch slashing first at one man then the other. The first man is knocked from his feet with the force of the blow he was dealt from the Burcombe knight. The other falls dead to the floor Edwyn striking him just after Acwel, finishing him. A nod is given to Acwel and Edwyn glances to Arian wanting to go aid her he looks from the fallen man to Acwel as if to silently ask the other to finish the job while he goes to help the lady knight. After that he spurs his horse forward going to try and strike down the spear wielding Pict.

Acwel rolls 1d20 and gets (17) for a total of: (17) (Love: Goddess check fails for the disarmed spearman)

There's so very little to do for the pair of ladies and their maids, but to watch and pray that their family and friends did not fall to these wicked raiders. So even as she sits upon her horse does Lysanor's hands clasp together in silent prayer, though it is young Jonnin's warm reassurance that allows a smile to touch upon her lips when she looks gratefully towards him. The young Dinton maiden knows that the squire would, perhaps, rather be out there to raise sword alongside the knights, but he has this 'important' task to do and thus she remarks, "We have every faith in you Jonnin de Newton." Her eyes then lift to stare out into the distance, "Sir Kamron puts so much trust in you, knowing that you are ever vigilant, especially when there is so much chaos and… violences going on around us." She then looks to Seren, "Isn't that right, Lady Seren?," She then adds, "Our brothers and the rest are faring well, as was expected."

With the six Picts so defeated, there is nothing much to do but to watch the aftermath of the onslaught - blood paints the walls even more than before, and the number of corpses has pretty much doubled. No sign of the woman, not a peep, nothing at all. Then again, now persists an unsettling silence in this blood-soaked great hall, that overwhelming feeling of something worse yet to come.

The fire crackles and sways against the wind that blows in, but one of the Picts, the one that Edwyn had defeated by himself, is still alive, still breathing. He groans from pain, unable to do much else as shock settles in and he continues to lose blood.

"We do," Seren reassures with a warm smile to the squire, but she shivers in the saddle, unable to keep her gaze settled on the young man. Those who were fighting keep drawing her attention. It takes a moment for her to realize Lady Lysanor was speaking to her and she turns with an apologetic look, "They are, I worry about them all. This journey has made me realize how much I value you all as friends, and the way they just rushed in…"

Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 14. (-5 Knocked Down=Failure)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (2) for a total of: (2)
Kamron rolls 3d6 and gets (1 3 2) for a total of: (6)

There is that terrible clatter of a spear's head against her shield, though this time it does not send her teeth clattering. Arian manages to pull herself to her feet, tucked behind her shield despite her weak attempt to stab her sword out from behind its guard. She looks up as the pict falls at her feet, and her gaze alights on Edwyn. "Thank you, Sir Edwyn," she gasps. She offers him a sudden flash of her dimples, though the smile is short lived as she turns swiftly to the battlefield.

Failed.
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 16. (+5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (2) for a total of: (2) (11 DEX Unarmed - 5 Mounted Foe - 5 Failed Passion=Failure)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (6 6 2 6) for a total of: (20)

Jonnin looks better now that the ladies are properly reassured, although his horse still dances with his nervousness. He has to defend his knight at Seren's commentary, "…very Brave." That's his description, and he's sticking with it.

Kamron looks a little surprised as the unarmed raider doesn't immediately flee or drop away from the armed men, or… something. And so it's a long moment before he actually spurs down on the man, joining in with his cousin to hack into the man and finish the job. And then he guides his rouncey over toward where Edwyn and Arian stand, looking around, "I'll watch your back, Sir Arian, while you remount?"

Failed.
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 16. (+5 for Mounted + 5 Knocked Down=Crit Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (7) for a total of: (7) (15 - 5 Knocked Down - 5 Mounted Foe=Failure)
Acwel rolls 10d6 and gets (6 5 2 3 5 6 2 4 1 1) for a total of: (35)

It takes all of one thrust down into the Pict's skull and Acwel's job is done. The blade is pulled cleanly from the gaping hole where the raider's face was, and the Woodford sneers, darkly. There's no exchanges made there, no prayers to God the Almighty. Only one thing stirs in a Woodford's heart when it comes to Picts: hatred.

Success
Edwyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 12.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (16) for a total of: (16)
Edwyn rolls 4d6 and gets (6 1 4 5) for a total of: (16)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (5) for a total of: (5) (Remains Conscious)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (20) for a total of: (20) (Knocked Down)

Edwyn charges the pict that is bearing down on Arian. His sword swings forward striking the man hard in the arm and sending him crashing to the ground near Arian. Looking down from atop his mount Edwyn's gaze softens into concern. "You are most welcome Sir Arian. Will you be alright?" His tone is concerned, calm and surpringly gentle. Kamron gets a breif glance as well and a faint nod but then he looks down at the pict on the floor and scowls. "Shall I finish him off then? Or does anyone think he has useful information to share?" The Burcombe is surprisingly level headed about this.

Another rider approaches towards the manor and baggage trailing, and indeed it is the baggage Emrys heads too first as the battle dies down. The one eyed knight is quick to reign in behind his cousin's mount. "Lady Lysanor, You should warn thenothers, I found signs of-" and he is quiet as he comes around to survey the fight as it finishes. "Well fu-" the word clipped short, before he is quickly bobbing his head and then spurring past ladies and the squire to join the other knights.

Success
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (17) for a total of: (17)
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (1 2 3 6 3 4) for a total of: (19)

Needless to say, it is far more simple butchery than it is artful combat when Cyndeyrn and Kamron catch the man between them, and the downward stroke from the larger Dinton that hacks into the pict is pragmatically, or even almost insultingly curt. But there was never much chance for this to end otherwise with the butchery the lot had already committed and the depravities they were even still engaged in, and the man does not seem troubled by the business-like hacking down of the final target. Turning about on the bit of discussion, he does point out: "They might at least speak of any other raiders, if this is part of some larger incursion or simply an isolated thing. However, they seemed to speak their own tongue, and if they know none of ours, best to grant them a swift journey to their final judgment."

The unhorsed Knight manages to catch her breath during this lull. Arian is unwounded, but the fact that her mulberry gelding is pacing around nervously around her without her in his saddle has shaken her a bit. "Yes," she says first to Edwyn at his concern. "I am alright… a bit shocked by the impact, is all. I didn't expect it." Then she nods to Kamron at his suggestion, and goes about getting her armored self back into her saddle. She shifts around, aligning her shield and checking her sword, which had been resheathed during her remount. Edwyn's question draws her gaze down to the pict, and her jaw tightens. "What could they possibly have to say," she states, more than asks.

"Nothing I wager. But its better to ask such things when in a group…some might disagree with killing them all without questioning them." Edwyn's tone is calm and he nods to Cyndeyrn in agreement. His blade is held at the pict mans heart and if no one objects to it the Burcombe will move to finish the man off with his blade.

Success
Lysanor checked her prudent of 10, she rolled 2.

With the tension in the air and the sounds of hooves charging and the dread of battle in the distance, the sudden approach of the Newton upon his horse does make Lysanor's blood freeze within her. Of course, Newt was there to protect the ladies, but who knew what was approaching. So turning her head quickly, that shock of red hair wavering in the strong breeze that ominously blows through the area, she is relieved to see the familiar figure of her cousin upon his horse. Breathing a heavy sigh, her cold lips part as she murmurs, "Oh, it's yo—" Only to be warned of something which they now knew. Unless, there are more of them? But before she even has a chance to relay what information she does know, Sir Emrys rides off to join the others so valiantly. "Yes, so very brave." While there is an urge for her to follow along, if at a slower pace, for now, she realizes that it is better to remain where it is safe.

Seren looks back to the squire and gives him a very solemn nod, "Very brave, I agree. They rushed in to put their lives in danger to save other innocent people when they could have ridden off. I think they are the bravest of the brave." There is a look given to Lysanor, she worries for those still fighting. As Emrys rides up, she is startled at first, but quickly relaxes in her saddle when she realizes he was with them all.

With the six Picts so defeated, there is nothing much to do but to watch the aftermath of the onslaught - blood paints the walls even more than before, and the number of corpses has pretty much doubled. No sign of the woman, not a peep, nothing at all. Then again, now persists an unsettling silence in this blood-soaked great hall, that overwhelming feeling of something worse yet to come.

The fire crackles and sways against the wind that blows in, but that soft sound is cut abruptly by shouts, again in that strange language.

Footsteps can be heard from behind the knights, towards the entrance, as three Picts seem intent on coming closer to Ladies Seren and Lysanor, only God knows with what intent towards them.

And before the knights think the battle is won against the three, six more arise from the back of the great hall, one of whom is certainly better equipped than the rest, perhaps a chieftain of sorts. He lets out an angry shout, hefts a sword he undoubtedly stole from someone and the six charge the group.

Failed.
Lysanor checked her horsemanship of 4, she rolled 6. (+5 Unmounted Pursuers=Success)
Success
Seren checked her horsemanship of 10, she rolled 4.

Newt starts as Emrys rides back to the group, almost dropping his sword, then sighs with relief. Aaaaand then there's no reason for him to feel relief, because there are Picts coming after them. He spurs his horse toward them, but pulls out just before the ladies, putting himself between the ladies and their attackers but not getting too far away. "There's more out here, sirs!"

Kamron looks about the ruined hall as Arian gets back into the saddle, shrugging slightly as he hefts his bloody axe and also-blooded shield, answering the Lady Knight's question, "If there are any more of them? Or how they got here? These are definitely not mere bandits." The sound of hooves draws his eyes up, but he merely nods as Edwyn appears at the edge of the hall. As more of the Picts arrive, Kamron hefts his axe again, "Deyr! The Ladies!" Because there's nothing better than swooping in to the rescue of two pretty ladies, right. Still, he turns his horse toward the nearer attackers, spurring after an axe-wielder first.

If it should be any doubt that, on seeing more of them come from both directions, that Cyndeyrn would look first toward the safety of his closest kin? Then such doubt would surely come from a lack of knowing the man, or his clan as a whole, for their words are part 'Family' for a reason. Although the other force is considerable, there is not the slightest hesitation or thought of leaving his sister to fall prey to the pagan lot, and with Seren with her? Well, it is hard to know what he -thinks- of her, but her own danger can only make the situation that much more troubling, and his presence all the more needed! Wheeling about, he heads straight for them, or perhaps straight toward the men to head them off, sword brandished as he rides.

Edwyn turns his head back towards Lysanor and Seren to make sure they are still safe. They are not safe at all! Picts seem to be surrounding the group and rather than run headlong into the closest fight Edwyn thinks that the ladies could use protection more. He spurs his horse towards them rushing to put himself between the ladies and the picts. His sword is held at the ready as he charges the men who would have attacked Seren and Lysanor with narrowed eyes. He does not cry out in rage, his fury takes the form of pure silence. The men are a ways off but he fully intends to keep them as far away from the ladies as he can manage.

If Emrys' sudden appearance gave her a start, the same false sense of relief which she shares with Newt quickly dissipates when Lysanor realizes that there truly is danger lurking in the area and that darkness now had their eyes set upon her small little group. "Lady Seren, ride!" She speaks quickly, just as the young squire alerts the other knights of the incoming attack. Lysanor, herself, wasn't exactly a skilled rider, only being used to slow strolls along the river and some travel between neighboring manors and Sarum. Nothing like the stress both she and her snow white mount must be feeling at this very moment. Thus, when she does urge the steed forward, one of her hands grips tightly upon its reign while the other reaches out to pat the beast in some sort of reassurance in the hopes that she may ease it into some sense of calm, despite the need to flee.

With the sudden appearance of more raiders, Emrys draws his sword, as reigns are held tight. "Damned!" he shouts before he is moving to aid Newt in the protection of the ladies. No victorious cheer leaves the Newton knight as he looks to roll into the first encroaching painted man. "I will hold them off!" hopefully.

Arian twists about in her saddle the moment Kamron launches a call to the Ladies. She grimaces a bit, tugging hard at her own reins to draw her gelding around. She heels him forward, and he takes off in a bounding advance toward the picts and ladies. She redraws her sword, adjusting her grip as they advance. Heavy hooves draw her close.

At first, Seren is unaware that there were attackers headed for them, distracted as she was by Emrys approaching and warning them of danger, since she was assuming it was the current body count that he was speaking of. Only when Newt positions himself between them and danger does she realize the extent of it. With a chance to get away, she tightens her hold on the reins, hearing Lysanor, "Hurry! Come!" She calls back, but she does not ride off ahead, she keeps herself with Lysanor, uncertain really in which direction safety would actually be.

Success
Acwel checked his energetic of 16, he rolled 8.

When the second wave of these monsters surfaces, Acwel doesn't want to waste anytime in proving his mettle. He picks out the closest spearmen to those at the center of the room and charges towards him, sword in hand, ready to strike a blow against the malefactor. "DIE!" He shouts, having apparently forgotten the motto of his family in his pursuits towards something much, much darker. Revenge.

Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (14) for a total of: (14) (15 Skill - 5 Mounted Foe=Undefended Miss vs Kamron)
Success
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 13. (Skill Split to 10 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (16) for a total of: (16) (15 - 0 Great Spear=Failure)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (1 4 3 4) for a total of: (12)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (11) for a total of: (11) (Still Standing)
Failed.
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 19. (Skill Split to 5 + 5 Mounted=Failure)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (18) for a total of: (18) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe=Failure)

Kamron evidently expected more than just one person charging the raiders at the back of the hall with him, because he looks left and right, suddenly wide-eyed, then offers Acwel a tight grin right before they strike home. Kam ducks under a swinging axe, takes another to the shield and deflects it away with no lasting damage, and then leans low to one side of his horse, chopping the blade of his axe into the spearman beneath the raider's thrust. And then he's surrounded, hemmed in by swinging blades, blue faces, and a whole lot of anger. "At least the Ladies will be safe, Sir Acwel."

Jonnin turns and rides with the ladies, although he stays just a little slower than them, looking grim and scared and trying not to show look grim or scared.

Arian has lost her focus. She was certain that her sword would be put to good use as she turned her horse after the picts, but now she can hear the sound of a fight happening behind her. She wheels her horse around, looking over her shoulder. "Kam," she breathes out under her breath. "I'm going back to help Sir Kamron and Sir Acwel!" She heels her gelding, pushing the mulberry forward to return to the pair of knights and their overwhelming odds. Hopefully, this won't be an awkward back and forth for the entire fight…

Success
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 3. (Skill Split of 10 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (1) for a total of: (1) (19 - 5 Mounted Foe=Success)
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (5 6 5 3 4) for a total of: (23) (23 - 3 Tattoos - 6 Shield=14 damage)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3) (Still Standing)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (12) for a total of: (12) (Not Unconscious)
Success
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 9. (Skill Split of 3 + 5 Mounted=Failure)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (19) for a total of: (19) (15 - 0 Great Spear=Failure)
Success
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 2. (Skill Split of 2 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (17) for a total of: (17) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe=Failure)
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (4 4 1 1 2) for a total of: (12)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (16) for a total of: (16) (Knocked Down)

Flashing Kamron a grin, Acwel has a reaction that is almost best described as berserk against the Picts. He lifts his sword and swings it in an arc, making blood spray as he hits the seeming leader of the group with one decisive strike, though he still stands. He turns on the horse, then, jabbing the tip of the blade quickly at the shoulder of the other opponent, the force enough to knock that axeman down. However, there is a third, and apparently he barely has time to escape an attack before he returns it with one of his own, narrowly missing the target. Gritting his teeth, he shouts, "In the name of my Great Grandfather, I shall send you demons back to Hell where you belong!"

Success
Emrys checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 11.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (17) for a total of: (17) (15 -0 Great Spear=Failure)
Emrys rolls 4d6 and gets (1 3 2 4) for a total of: (10)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (15) for a total of: (15) (Knocked Down)

The One eye-d Knight apparently catches his poor pict unawares as he was prepared to ride down ladies, rather than engage a knight of Newton. Emrys' sword catches the man hard and the force from the blow sends him down to the ground, keeping his horse tween man and his own steed, Emrys twirls the blade deftly in hand before he is reaching to hack down into his prone foe, lest he finds his way back up and effectively in the fight.

After the initial jolt, Lysanor's mount doesn't drop in speed even as she turns to peer over her shoulder to see if those beasts were still chasing them. "They are still following, Lady Seren." She shouts, so that the other woman can hear her at the speed which they are going. Though when she faces forward again, she sees a couple knights riding to their rescue, one of them being her brother, "Cyndeyrn!" Her voice lifts once more. She had not seen much of her brother since they rushed off initially to fight those wretched Picts, so she is relieved to see him here now.

Hearing the shout, Seren keeps her horse in the direction she had been going, hands tight on the reins, face pale in the moonlight, stark white. Her cloak flows out behind her but she does not ride any faster than Lysanor. The shout of her brother's name brings her attention back to the knights and the battle. If possible, she pales further to see her own brother facing more than one. "Acwel," though the name is only a whisper, a distraught sound, but she has no wish to distract him.

The Chieftain continues barking orders despite their wounds. And still, they are seemingly intent on killing the twerp who just wounded them now. It seems that with Arian's arrival into this side of the fray, the spearman who did not succeed at attacking Acwel and one of the axemen currently trying to kill Kamron detach, heading instead to intercept the lady. Those Picts still on the two charging knights attempt to attack: sword and axe, and axe and axe versus Acwel and Kamron, respectively.

Those seeking to intercept the ladies now have to contend with Emrys, Edwyn and Cyndeyrn. Their counterattack is vicious, their goals getting away from them after being so close.

Cyndeyrn continues his charge toward the pack of picts behind the ladies, quite heedless of other concerns, the battle behind him or even Arian's sudden turnabout. Seeing one fall is some reassurance, but hardly enough to slow his own advance toward the remaining men. "Ride around behind us, but stay close," he calls while pushing his horse to a greater speed, "There could be more anywhere about, stay in our midst!"

Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 8. (Skill split 10 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (20) for a total of: (20) (Crit Fail, broken weapon)
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (1 1 3 1) for a total of: (6)
Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 3. (Skill split 5 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (20) for a total of: (20) (Crit Fail, broken weapon)
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (6 4 6 5) for a total of: (21)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (16) for a total of: (16) (Unconscious)

It appears the Pagan knight has found her revenge against the picts as she charges into the foray, sword and shield readied. The gelding dances between the two picts who have chosen her as their target, and she manages to cut across the spearman before she turns on the axeman. It is almost as if the first strike carries enough momentum for the second to strike down the axeman without much effort. The gelding has little care of the fallen pict, almost stepping on him as he wheels back around so his rider is parallel once more with the standing spearman. Arian's breath is coming hard through her nose, though the visor of her helmet hides the flush and touch of excitement warming her cheeks.

Success
Emrys checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 1.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe=Success)
Kamron rolls 3d6 and gets (6 2 3) for a total of: (11)
Failed.
Emrys checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 15.

After dispatching his first foe, Emrys has turned into ad charged into one of the pictish bastards who have started on after the ladies, sword in hand, as he lands an attack, but fails to unseat the other rider-unfortunately though-the one eyed knight is unable to parry the man's spear blow, which comes to his blind side. A grimace given, , as thankfully the spear doesn't break through the reinforced chain the knight is wearing, however the blow is enough to unseat the knight from his horse, who rears when in close contact with the other mount. A grunt resounds in Emrys' helm as he lands with a thud, but then is back to his feet, shield brought to bear as he looks to stave off any attempt from his attacker.

Critical Success!
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 15. (15 + 5 Mounted=Success, not Crit)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (13) for a total of: (13)
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (6 2 2 4 2 2) for a total of: (18)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (17) for a total of: (17) (Unconscious)

Although there may be some inward relief that Lysanor and Seren have clearly kept ahead of their would-be attackers, it does not slow Cyndeyrn from his advance, nor dim his righteous anger toward those same would-be molesters. Thundering toward the two remaining men, he veers to bring his steed alongside one and takes a powerful, sweeping sort of swing on the past. The man catches it hard, sent sailing to his back with a gaping wound. He wheels about here, riding back toward Emrys in case he needs aid (which he clearly doesn't) and eventually toward the other group, who are further off, while calling to the women, "Keep close! Do not stray, they may lurk in the other village buildings or be anywhere else about."

Failed.
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 17. (Skill split 10 + 5 Mounted=Failure)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (9) for a total of: (9) (15 + 0 Great Spear=Success)
Kamron rolls 3d6 and gets (2 5 4) for a total of: (11)
Success
Kamron checked his horsemanship at 13, he rolled 12.
Success
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 3. (Skill split 5 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (14) for a total of: (14) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe=Failure)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (6 6 2 1) for a total of: (15)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (19) for a total of: (19) (Unconscious)

And there's Arian again. Kamron breathes a little easier as one of his attackers peels away to attack her. And then he remembers who the axeman is attacking, and he's distracted long enough that a spearpoint dances past his shield, catching on the rings of his mail right over his ribs. Before it can penetrate, he slams the edge of his shield into the haft of the spear, sending it skittering off again with only a grunt of pain and no actual blood-letting. He strikes the haft of the other man's axe with his own, sending it off to the side, and then hammers into the side of the man's neck, sending him down to the ground bleeding heavily. He sways in the saddle from the impact of the spear his horse's uneven footing atop the bodies in the hall, but manages to keep his seat, spinning the horse around, "Now do I have to count that as a rescue, Sir Arian?" There's only a beat pause, and then he responds, "Thank you either way."

Success
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8. (Skill split 10 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (12) for a total of: (12) (19 - 5 Mounted Foe=Success)
Kamron rolls 5d6 and gets (4 5 2 1 1) for a total of: (13) (13 damage - 12 Reinforced Mail - 6 Shield = no damage)
Success
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 12. (Skill split 5 + 5 Mounted + 5 Knocked Down Foe=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (10) for a total of: (10) (15 - 5 Mounted Foe - 5 Knocked Down=Failure)
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (5 6 1 3 4) for a total of: (19)

Struck on the shield, Acwel cannot turn to counterattack the offending swordsman, though he does manage to make his sword swing under the guard of the axeman, cutting several major blood vessels along the way with the charge as he finally turns to contend with the last man standing among the raiders. And perhaps the strongest of his opponents in the night. There is no more shouting now. Only the hissing of the sword before it sinks into his enemy matters.

Lysanor continues to monitor the fighting that occurs behind them, especially once Cyndeyrn charges right past her to help take out at least one of her pursuers. Thus, she slows her horse down, believing that they must be safe. The sound of more fighting can be heard in the distance, but for this moment, the Dinton maiden is concerned for her brother's well-being. "We may be in the clear, Lady Seren." She breathes out in relief, seeing that both Cyndeyrn, her cousin Emrys and Sir Edwyn de Burcombe are making short work of the Picts who dared to come for them. Still, it wasn't safe simply lingering about, so she eases her horse forward to catch up with Seren's after Lysanor's sudden stop, to ensure that their own knights at the manor were holding their own. All of this, the attacks, the Picts chasing her down, the carnage of those at the manor before they arrived, all of this gives her a chill, making her shudder even beneath her heavy cloak. "It may not be safe to linger too long and we best keep on our guard."

Keeping with Lysanor, Seren watches the ensuing fight and winces visibly as Cyndeyrn takes one out with what seems like little to no effort. Her hands tighten on the reins, her posture straight, the worry evident on her features. Turning with her horse, she watches, but she takes the advice and does not venture further, returning to Lysanor's side. "Acwel is still fighting. They all are." It was far from over it seemed.

Failed.
Emrys checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 16.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (12) for a total of: (12) (Skill split 10, forgot Emrys was Knocked Down=Failure)

Emrys flails his sword hastily, which likely looks like a small child trying to nab a butterfly with chubby fingers and unsteady hands, but when you are facing a painted bastard with a great spear-you tend to act quickly and rashly-though thankfully even with the spearman bearing down on him, Emrys de Newton is able to move out of the way, allowing the spear point whistle by, and in doing so he hopefully aided Cyndeyrn in his breaking of that nasty stick. With a bit of a sigh, muffled behind the helm, Emrys takes his time to swing at the man again and try to keep both him, and beast distracted to allow his fellow knight to finish him off.

Critical Fail!
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 20. (15 + 5 Mounted=Crit Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3) (DEX 11 - 5 Mounted Foe=Success
Arian rolls 8d6 and gets (5 5 1 1 5 3 4 6) for a total of: (30)

Everything happens at once. Arian is turning her mulberry gelding around to prepare for another strike against the spearman, and Kam is offering that question and thanks. She cannot fit in a reply between evading a strike from the spearman. The gelding rears slightly, his nostrils flaring. His bicolored eyes relfect his rider's confidence as she pushes him forward. Her shield remains high, ready to deflect any strike against her, but her sword is the first to strike. She almost viciously slices open the pict's chest, spilling blood across his rough clothing. There is a moment where it seems as though the blue-skinned man and Pagan are about to engage in another exchange of blows, but he collapses within two advancing steps only to be crushed into the ground by her charger's settling hooves. The gelding dances over the fallen body quickly, reassuring those around the knight that the pict is indeed dead. She is breathing heavily, taking a quick count around her, and then replies to Kamron with a breathless, "You're welcome… and yes, that was a rescue, Sir Kamron. However will you thank me?"

Success
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 3.
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3) (Tie=Sword Breaks Spear)

As Cyndeyrn finishes turning he rides back the way he came, crossing again near where Emrys and the remaining man are fighting. As Emrys has been unhorsed, he does lend aid rather than simply riding by, again lining up his approach to bring him right by the man and allow a sweeping cut in passing. As it is, the little pict manages to get his similarly shabby wooden stick up, and while it saves him a worse fate, the wood again shatters beneath a true knight's iron. With the man disarmed, he slows and rounds a bit as not to overshoot, but rather to set himself another pass, knowing that even a disarmed little savage might still threaten a knight weighed down on the ground in his armor. He will be sure Emrys is on his feet before abandoning him, although his gaze - and his worry - is always on the women near.

Failed.
Kamron checked his axe at 15, he rolled 19. (15 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (6) for a total of: (6)
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (5 2 3 6) for a total of: (16)

Kamron was just dealing with three enemies, then two. One is no problem. He wheels his horse away from the sweep of the axe, slamming the rouncey's shoulder into the raider and then burying his axe in the man's neck, sending the raider collapsing to the ground bleeding. The rouncey stumbles a little, not used to shoulder-checking anything, but Kam keeps control of it, looking about the hall for any more threats before he responds to Arian, "How did I know you would say that? I'll just have to return the favor." Taking in another breath, he twists his bruised stomach a little, "Shall we see if we can find any survivors?" Because obviously three knights were plenty to deal with three raiders outside in his opinion.

Failed.
Acwel checked his sword of 15, he rolled 17. (15 + 5 Mounted=Success)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (3) for a total of: (3)
Acwel rolls 5d6 and gets (2 1 6 3 6) for a total of: (18)
Kamron rolls 1d20 and gets (9) for a total of: (9) (Unconscious Check=Failure)
Success
Emrys checked his Merciful of 13, he rolled 2.

It is a tiresome exchange of blows with the Chieftain. Acwel lifts his shield, blocks the strike and then thrusts his sword into the Pict's neck. Efficient, ruthless, cold. And yet, dispassionate despite the hatred that led him to the charge and put him in the dire predicament of fighting three at once at some point. Nevertheless, with that enemy dead, he glances to Kamron and nods to the man before offering the salute typical to knights. "Brave, Sir Kamron, brave." He compliments, glancing at the two fallen foes on the floor. "The sword he carried should belong to you, provided it did not belong to the lord of this manor. I doubt it was made for him. And we should take him as a prisoner for purposes of justice. God grant him mercy."

It was brutal, the battle was a brutal one and nothing the likes Seren had witnessed before. Some of it is lost to the night and distance, yet the sounds, the horrible sounds of a man being disembowelled.. or that is what her vivid imagination puts to the sound she hears, haunt her. With wide eyes, she looks around in rapid succession, gaze landing on one knight after another, if only to ensure herself each of the group were still alive. And where was Newt? He was still protecting them. Cyndeyrn, Emrys, Kamron, Arian. Hearing voices, she is reassured, but where was Acwel? Finally, she finds him and she exhales a sigh of relief. "I think everyone is unharmed." Or it is wishful thinking.

Success
Emrys checked his Merciful of 13, he rolled 2.

Emrys doffs his helm in Cyndeyrn's direction before he is moving to get up onto his horse, once his sword has been sheathed. Eyes survey those left on the field, before he is turning to look back towards Acwel and Kamron. "We should take any of them alive to the manor with us. If the Lord, or Lady be alive it should be their justice, not ours. If all are dead." and the knight sombers as he holds his helm in the crook of his arm. "Then we can execute the law of the land as needed." needless to say, that would not be in Sir Emrys' preference, but he throws it out there all the same. "I am sure we can round them up-those still alive anyway won't have a fight in them."

Success
Kamron checked his modest at 13, he rolled 10.

Kamron bows his head in return to Acwel, "Neatly done, Sir Acwel." The offer causes him to shake his head, and he lifts up his bloody axe, "I wouldn't know what to do with it, Sir, and besides, I might not have survived without my rescuer." His lips quirk slightly at the last word, but he gestures toward Arian with the heavy axe. "I say that Sir Arian has more than earned the right." When the ladies approach, Kamron bows his head to them, "Wonderful to see that Deyr's gallant gesture was successful." Sure, he's throwing the E-knights under the carriage a bit, but there's a point there, as he looks between Cyndeyrn and Seren.

Newt remains with the ladies, checking on his cousin Sir Emrys and leading the man's horse back toward him. He looks relieved that both family and his knight are relatively unharmed.

Failed.
Arian checked her modest of 7, she rolled 14.
Success
Arian checked her proud of 13, she rolled 1.

"Thank you Jonnin." Emrys remarks with a drawl as he looks back over to Kamron and the other knights, a bit of his tongue chewed on before he is clearing his throat. "I was coming back to let you know what I had seen scouting ahead. Sadly though-it seems my discovery found you all here. I found tracks of the war band ahead and circling back to this manor-I came to warn, but it was too late." A frown showing there. "I'll head on to the manor and see what I can suss out for survivors." And so he will take his leave at this time.

The adrenaline rushes from her body, and Arian is left with a dull ache in her body from her bodily fall from her horse. She is shiftin gin her saddle, trying to find a bit of comfort in the familiar leather. Then she looks up at mention of the sword, and she glances between Acwel and Kamron. She lifts her visor, giving herself an opportunity to breathe without the barrier. She starts to smile, and her dimples are in full force. "Thank you, Sir Kamron." She bows her head gently, pushing her gelding forward toward the aforementioned sword. Ha! A sword of a pict… certainly that would be something to show her father.

Once certain that Emrys is up and on his feet and the last pict dealt with, only then is Cyndeyrn satisfied to give the reins of his own mount a little shake to guide it forward at a light trot toward the other group, their fallen foes not calling for an all-out charge any longer. In passing, he stops near where he told the ladies to stop in the middle, and riding close by, he visually… surveys them. For signs wounds or harm, of course! And both them and their mounts. "Are you both whole and injured?" he confirms by word as well, glancing between Seren and his sibling alike, although it may seem a little unecessary as there is no sign of a feather out of place. "Yes, all is well here," he will then turn to call back to Kamron. "Do you have any survivors over there? I think we should not linger in this place, who knows if this is some larger invasion, but grant the dying mercy and tie the living, to drag with us and deliver to whatever greater lord rules this land."

Unlike Seren, Lysanor is used to the carnage of battle, often times finding her own hands covered in the blood of her patients. Even the pain of having some of the fallen, friend or family, die in your care. All of this does leave her cold, if not traumatized. Doing a quick count as she remains upon her mount, even turning it around some so that she may see those off in the distance, it is to her relief that all of their own remain standing. With her brother still lingering near, she draws the reigns of her horse to slowly make her approach, though she turns to regard Seren with a kind, friendly look as if to reassure the other young woman. "We are safe and from what I can tell, justice has been served against these vile men." To Newt, she offers, "And we must extend our grattitude to you, Jonnin. You gave us both strength and protection when we needed them most."

"I am uninjured, thanks to you and the others," Seren speaks quietly, the horror of it all still reflecting in her stiff posture and the pallor of her skin. "A debt I could never repay." Humbled, completely, by what she now realizes a Knight does, she looks to Lysanor, completely missing any insinuations from Kamron. Her own hands are more apt to be wearing ink than blood though she seems to be taking it with as much aplomb as she can manage. "Justice," she echoes, then looks towards Newt, offering a quick bob of her head. "Yes, thank you, deeply."

And so the battle ends. The fires have died, and silence once again rules over the hall — except this time it isn't the kind that leaves one a certain ''feeling'' in the aftermath. Most of these Picts are truly dying, perhaps wounded past the point of no return, while a number of others are unconscious. Completely beaten, however.

Finally they might hear the cries of a woman, they sound like relief, but they also hear the trotting of horses. One, two, five.

Perhaps the person who answers for the manor has finally arrived.

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