(514-04-18) Goats and Moppets
Summary: Dalan and Isyld cross paths, both on different journeys.
Date: 04-18-514
Related: None
dalan isyld 

Coming out of the hills to the north and the Selwood to the west, the Wylye is a clear chalk stream. Its crystal waters glowing over gravel. It runs through the hills hear towards Sarum and the Salisbury plains to the west. Its a good source of fish and many manors have found their way here among the rich soil. The northern and wester fork gather near Woodford before flowing south towards the walled city of Wilton, joining with the Nadder before flowing eastward again.

The knight from Newton is not far from his home, but curiously he has quite the camp set up, a few miles from the manor. And it is a camp that looks like someone that is head to the front for the summer, or for the biggest wedding and tourney Logres has ever seen. To a make shift hitching post, two rouncey's are lashed, bit and bridled to ride, while a sumpter looks ready to be the pack horse. The Charger just looks vaguely smug, like he knows he is a little more special than the others. Two small tents are set up and one larger canopy is set for people to congregate under should the so choose. Sir Dalan for his part is warming himself by the cook fire over which a big iron pot of stew warms, and a smaller one of cider warms. Nothing particularly fancy but it has that nice homey, comfort food, aroma that joins the crisp morning air.

In a round about way Isyld is riding towards the wedding perhaps as well, though if she is, she is traveling light. A single rider is at her side, a squire gauging from the clothing she wears. As for Isyld, she could not be mistaken for anything other than the knight she is. The axe she keeps within easy reach may often get her mistaken for being more Saxon, but the heraldry on her cloak declares her of House Chalke, if one is up on such things as that. The tents and horses had caught her attention and she rides in that direction, looking for any sort of heraldry she may recognize herself. The smell of the food distracts her as she gets closer and reins in her horse, a look to her squire before she calls out to the rather large man warming himself by the fire. "Is everything okay here?"

You check your heraldry at 10, you rolled 5.

Dalan looks up from the fire and says, "Oh good day to you sir knight!" he says, his eyes narrow a bit as he studies her heraldry to get a sense of where she's from. As for Dalan he has plenty of items about the camp with Newton Heraldry, along with a couple that have his own personalized touch to them. "No, everything is fine, I am just preparing to head to the kings Wedding soon. Please welcome to my camp and help yourself to food if you are hungry, or cider if you are thirsty."

Recognizing the heraldry for what it is, Isyld offers a smile, warm and hopefully pleasant. "Almost a neighbor, in a round about way." With ease of movement, she dismounts and walks her horse over to the hitching post to add hers to the collection. Her squire follows suit, but remains quiet. Walking over, she stops nearby and dips a bit in a bow, as proper as one can get with armor on. "Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Knight. I'm Isyld de Chalke, was only passing through to Sarum. Cider sounds lovely."

"Well then welcome to my camp, Sir Isyld of Chalke, I am Sir Dalan of Newton." The huge man says as he turns to his camp fire and takes the small pot with the warm cider and pours some into a plain wood goblet. The pot replaced he turns to offer the drink to Isyld, "Are you planning on going to the King's wedding as well?"

"Well met, Sir Dalan of Newton, a pleasure." Wearing a smile, she takes a seat nearby and accepts the cider when it's offered. For a moment, she just takes in the aroma from the tendrils of steam curling over the warmed beverage. "And what a warm welcome indeed." Bringing the goblet closer, she blows on the surface before taking a sip and delighting in the flavor. "Mmm, thank you." Lowering the drink, she lifts her eyes to him and offers a shake of her head. "I must remain here on patrols. I was only going to report on the border skirmishes to the steward of Sarum Castle." Her own squire meanders around to see if there are any other squires to talk to, leaving the lady alone for the moment.

Dalan makes a slight deflated and sad sound, "Oh, Well I am sorry you will miss the wedding, but I thank you for your honor and service to our county by staying here to do duty to Earl Robert." Meanwhile, Dalan's own squire Perry waves awkwardly at Isyld's squire and awkwardly starts up conversation with her. "And you are welcome for the cider. Have as much as you like, and if you wish a bowl of stew, I would be happy to get one for you."

Hearing the sad sound, Isyld gives him a curious look but a smile accompanies it. "I regret I will miss it too, I'm sure it's going to be a historic occasion and something that will be spoken about at least during our own lifetime." Another sip of the cider and she so obviously enjoys it. "I don't mind staying behind though, I guess someone has to do it." Her smile returns at the offer of the food. "I have already eaten, we had some dried meat and a few berries earlier, thank you though, for the offer. You're headed to the wedding now?"

Dalan nods to Isyld and says, "Well, thank you again for watching the lands. It's still to early for the Saxon's to get all squirrelly, but there's always bandits to worry about." Dalan says with a nod of his head. He rubs his hands together so they can warm by the fire. "I am merely getting ready to go, we are leaving soon, and I thought I'd not add to the rest of the frenzied traffic at our Manor by setting up my camp and being ready to go as soon as everyone else is." He looks to Iswyld's horse and then back to her, "Do you favor the axe Sir Isyld? or is that a trophy of your valorous exploits?"

Isyld offers a somewhat solemn nod, "There are always bandits, I was on patrol near here the other day with Sir Llwyd, we happened upon a couple of bandits." Glancing over, she sees her squire making friends and talking and leaves her to it, focusing on the Knight instead. "It's wise to travel in a group. That's true." She smiles and glances towards her horse. "I like the axe, who wouldn't be a little intimidated by some weird little minx of a lass coming at them with an axe and a crazed expression?" Amusement has her lips twitching.

Dalan nods to Isyld and smiles, "My armsman, thought I should learn the axe on account of my size… but he didn't account for my lack of grace. I'd try and swing it and get the head caught on things other than my intended target, I'd keep breaking the haft, it was a mess." he nods, "But yes, I could see where a little axe wield moppet would cause even the most stalwart to take a step back in pause." He nods, "I hope to get to see you in action sometime." Dalan says as he pours himself some cider of his own now, "Since you will not be at the tourney, is there anyone you would like me to give a good walloping by proxy on your behalf?"

"Lack of grace?" Isyld gives him a curious smile, the warmth in her expression as well as a sympathy for his confession. "I think that wouldn't be a lack of grace, but an excess of strength!" A soft laugh follows her counter and she extends her legs so her booted feet are nearer the fire. Her hands still hold the wooden goblet and she sips now and again. "I would go if I could manage it, perhaps I could see if my brother would patrol in my stead, one of them is not so interested in tourneys." The question brings a considering look and a brief shake of her head. "I suppose I have no rivalries personally. Though I do wish you the best of luck in all of your matches."

Dalan blushes a bit and the homely knight looks down at his feet for a moment. "Well thank you for saying so, but it's certainly not the truth." Dalan says and then clears his throat, "It is good that you have no rivalries. That is a good for you health. Sometimes those things get out of hand, and the end with injury and waking up with the goats and…." he blinks, "Well you get the idea."

Noting the blush, Isyld gives a crooked smile as he looks down. "I wonder if you have rivalries," she muses mostly to herself and looks at him when he continues on with it. "Goats?" There's a laugh, genuine, "I think I don't get the idea at all, but it sounds like some sort of story that you'll be telling your children."

Dalan shakes his head and says, "Thankfully I have no rivalries to speak off. WHich is for the best I'm sure." He shakes his head, "And th goats.. well… My cousins often find great sport in convincing me to help them with various plots that usually end up with me feeling very humble."

There's a hint of mischief in her eyes, "We could always have a pretend rivalry and make people wonder," Isyld offers with a smile, lifting the goblet and finishing off the cider. "It sounds like your cousins and you have had an amusing time." A glance is given her squire, a lift of her hand to sort of round her up. "I should ride into Sarum though, try and make my report so I can see if I will be able to participate in the tournament or at least attend the wedding. If I can, I should hope to see you there."

Dalan salutes the young knight and says, "God Bless and Keep you Sir Isyld!" and he sees her off with a wave and makes his way to to putz about his camp.

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