(514-08-16) Perilous Picnic
Summary: Sir Bryce wants to spend time with his betrothed, Lady Lysanor. But it seems their picnic will not go as planned.
Date: August 16th, 514
Related: Dorset Trouble logs, happens about twelve days after Darkening Horizons, Part I
bryce lysanor 

Twelve days had passed since Bryce de Baverstock had taken part in a battle against Dorset knights who had raided the Manor of Coombe Bisset. The fighting had taken place before the manor of Odstock, where a number of Salisbury knights had put a stop to the enemy attack. They were only of the minor sort, the wounds Sir Bryce had sustained during the battle, one cut to his shoulder, and two bruises he had taken when he was driven off his horse. After that battle, he had to return to Baverstock, recovering there for more than a week, the time used to deal with some tedious business that had been put off because of his temporary absence. And in an optimistic moment he had sent word to Dinton manor, suggesting a visit for the following day, the intention of course to see his betrothed lady Lysanor, and take her out for a little ride about the countryside.

And so, in the hours of late morning Sir Bryce had arrived at Dinton on his black charger Devil, with his squire Carl in tow, and a pack horse, led along by the lad. Waiting there for Lysanor to join them, before they left together, following the road leading northwards into the woods, in general direction of Wylye. The light of the late summer sun is dimmed through the thick canopy of leaves, once they are inside of the forest, and they will find a quiescence there, with the occasional sounds of the woods, a crack in the bushes here, and the chirping of a bird there, with the loudest sound being the thundering of the hooves beneath them, as they ride on.

If Lysanor had known of her betrothed’s injury, she would have been there tending him since the day he returned from Odstock, instead, she, herself was busy at Ebble Keep, assisting the lady of the house in tending to the knights who had fought so valiantly to protect their border against the forces of Dorset. It is there that she had exchanged words that perhaps should have been spoken of prior between herself and Sir Acwel, but in the end, when she returns home, her spirits are once more lifted.

They are lifted even higher still once she receives the message that the young Baverstock wished to meet with her for a pleasant ride along the countryside. It's been a while since the young maiden even found the to relax, but with all of her of sewing work done and any and all preparations made for the remainder of the summer season, she is delighted to be able to spend this time with the man whom she will marry. While not dressed in her fanciest of attires, the simple bliaut which she wears is elegantly adorned along the collar and cuffs with an embroidered trim of greens and purples to represent the Dinton grapes which grows within their vinery. The bliaut itself is of a light violet, as Bryce may very well have learned, the soft purple hue is one of her favorite colors. Seated atop her snow white steed, the petite young maiden keeps her back straight and chin lifted, with her long mass of hair tied together into a heavy braid, as it is often done, that rests over her left shoulder.

She had packed a small basket for lunch, with a small bottle of wine within and enough fruits, bread, cheeses and pastry to serve four, having known that Bryce's squire would be about. The air was cool, with the canopy of trees blocking out some of the intensity of the summer's heat above them. When she does meet up with the pair, her smile warms all the more and she hurries her horse forward, "I hope that I have not kept you for very long." And almost immediately her gaze looks to study the young knight. She had known, though only after the fact, that he fought at Odstock, but she did not learn of the extent of his injuries, thus she tries to assess this now. "You had chosen a more glorious day for this. I don't know when the last time I'd taken such a leisurely ride on horseback through such a beautiful setting."

Sir Bryce is clad in his ringmail of course, beneath the tabard in red and black, the colors of Baverstock Manor. The sword, he wears at his side, is of particularly good quality and a necessary means of defense as well as symbol of his status as a knight. Beneath of the curly mess of his short dark hair, hazel eyes flicker with obvious admiration as he glances towards his betrothed. “No, you haven’t,” he replies with a smile and a shake of his head. He looks well enough, the color of his face healthy, not pale at all. “I thought,” Bryce adds after a moment, “it would be a good idea… and in fact, I am glad to have an excuse to spend my time at least today in a way that doesn’t involve duties as the Head of Baverstock Manor.” And as Lysanor speaks of the scenery, he lets his gaze drift about the forest before he adds: “And I like it here… it is a place that offers tranquility and peace… And it is far enough from Dorset to make such a ride a perilous endeavor.”

Carl nods his head, to Lysanor, respectfully lowering his gaze. A red-blonde lad of fifteen he is, with a cheerful round face, freckles and a missing tooth, in height actually about as tall as Bryce, even if of comparatively more bulky built. The squire seems to be in good spirits, whistling a merry melody as they ride further into the forest, and he now and then glances back over his shoulder at the pack horse he leads along.

Bryce meanwhile continues his conversation with Lysanor, as they are slowing the pace down to a slightly more leisurely trot. “How have you fared since last we spoke? I was involved in fending some Dorset knights off, at Odstock. Seems there is bad blood between Dorset and Salisbury… They had raided Coombe Bisset already.” The information is offered casually, and from the way Bryce sits in the saddle there isn’t any hint of discomfort and injury at all.

The weather was absolutely wonderful and the scenery, despite them traveling this way every so often on errands or journeys had never looked better, perhaps due to the company which she now keeps. The tranquil sounds of the river Wylye is soothing enough and makes a lovely backdrop their pleasant ride, working rather well with Carl's soft whistling heard from behind them. She looked very much like an elegant young lady, riding alongside her brave and rather dashing young knight, even if her betrothed may not believe so. Every so often she will steal a demure glance in his direction to view the sharp angles of his features and those dark curls atop his head. They are betrothed and even in the process of courting now and yet she still feels like that young teenage girl who hoped to gain his attention.

"I have faired well enough, but it does trouble me that we must deal with Dorset alongside possible Saxon raids? Do they not fear for their own manors as well now?" Her lips form a quiet smile and this time her gaze is focused forward as they continue along on their ride. "I thank God for each and every day that you return home safely." Those bright blue eyes of hers still do not seek the man's gaze out now even once these words are spoken. "And I trust you that if you were in pain or in need for anything, that you will call upon me and my healing talents?" Is is here that she turns gently in his direction, though she knows what his response will very well be.

If Bryce is aware of such fleeting glances towards him, it does not show. What Lysanor will notice however, is a certain lightness about him, the smile that softens his usually so dutiful expression. It seems more like coincidence that his gaze meets hers, and perhaps the fact that she replies to his question. “Ah. Dorset.”, the smile dims a little and his mien grows a bit thoughtful. “It will have consequences. Much like a…” He glances aside to where the river is visible beside the road, “like a tiny stone tossed into… um… a lake. The first stone might be tiny, but who can tell what ripples it will cause? The tiny stone, in this case, has been the occurrence of the murder in Sarum, and our own Salisbury knights seeking justice, and administering it.” He sighs, the hand tightening about the reins of his horse, before his eyes lift to meet hers. “There may be further trouble ahead. If the Earls of Dorset and Salisbury won’t try to come to an agreement without further violence.” A fact, he thinks highly unlikely, judging from the tone.

“But I am glad, we are far enough from Dorset that we can leave those troubles behind, at least for a day,” Bryce de Baverstock adds then with a smile. “Let us not speak of bloodshed and the like. Being a knight, I must follow, when Earl Robert calls to arms. And so far, I’ve come back from each battle, more or less in one piece.” The whistling from behind them has dropped in volume, and so the knight casts a glance over his shoulder. “Seems Carl is not quite keeping up,” he observes with a slightly amused glint in his eyes. “But yes.” His eyes cut to Lysanor and Bryce nods. “If I were in pain I would always come to you. If you are around.” Sensing an unspoken question there he adds: “A man of the faith saw to mine wounds after the battle at Odstock. Brother… Huw he is called, I believe. A good man.” A faint smirk there. “And my injuries have healed well, I believe.”

Though they had agreed on a peaceful and pleasant journey, it's difficult to not avoid any discussion of their most current worries and concerns, especially in light of some of the most recent battles. Lysanor knows that her betrothed is right, however, as much of their time spent together is discussing various battles and encounters or even missions that either had been on; many such missions having even kept them apart. "I will continue to pray that this foolishness, this vile error will soon be resolved. That does not make up for the lives lost in these disputes, but we all will need to learn to cope and perhaps forgive."

Bryce's reminder does slowly help her in freeing her mind of the violence and bloodshed. With so little time spent together, there are other things to discuss, personal things, perhaps, rather than the problems which will continue to plague Salisbury even now. Feeling her spirits lifted once more, there is a small smile on her lips when she looks back over her shoulder to see exactly where Bryce's young squire had fallen back to. "Do you still share your squire with your brother?" She asks with amusement in her tone, though when it is this certain holy man that is brought up, Lysanor's features do light up in recognition, "Brother Huw, he was a brave man who dared to venture out of the safety of Wilton's walls to usher in the frightened and insured while saving the life of a man trapped beneath the rubble of his crumbled home." Out of a sense of playful teasing on her part, she urges her horse forward just a tiny bit faster, as she says, "I suppose that I do not mind that Brother Huw was the one who tended to your wounds. It would make me just a touch jealous if it were another Lady Tilshead looking after you." She obviously jests, especially with the discussion that they had regarding Lady Tilshead, a woman whom Lysanor herself admires and is grateful to for saving the man who she had crushed over, but who was also now her betrothed.

Bryce checked his Pious at 10, he rolled 6.

When Lysanor gives her answer, Bryce looks her way, studying her with a warmth that may not quite fit the topic. “And I shall pray that your prayers will be heard,” he says thoughtfully, but then the topic is dropped as attention shifts to his squire riding somewhere behind them. “No, Landon fortunately has his own squire now, so Carl can focus his attention on me alone. It was a temporary arrangement, with Landon so recently knighted.” Recent, meaning January. “But I believe he is enjoying this new luxury, to have someone look after his weapons and armor.”

Dark eyes flit back to Lysanor, when she admits to knowing the clergy he had mentioned. "Wilton? When was this? During the Saxon attack on Sarum, when you were on the Western side, while I was fighting at the Eastern Gate?" His brows furrow ever so slightly as Bryce considers. “I didn’t know he had been helping out, and even been capable of showing such courage. To venture out of the keep to help bring the wounded in…?” Words trail off as the Baverstock looks quite impressed with the story.

The jest about jealousy makes Bryce shoot Lysanor a glance, and there is a glint in his eyes. “Oh I see, I should make sure to get either patched up by an ugly old monk,“ which Brother Huw is certainly not!, “or to see to it that I only ride into battle when you are around, Lysanor.”, the Baverstock remarks with a soft chuckle.

Lysanor checked her horsemanship at 4, she rolled 5.

The young red-headed Dinton keeps up her swifter pace, not truly making this into a race, but keeping to a more playful and carefree mannerism. Her horsemanship skills may not be the very best and at times, she does lose some control over her steed, leading up to a point where she finds some difficult in her attempts to slow it down. Bryce may realize this at some point when their conversation comes to an odd silence altogether and for a little while at least, her horse just picks up more speed. For all that Lysanor can attempt to do, she pulls on Snow White's reign and tries her best to keep the beast calm. Usually, the horse is quicker to be soothed by the voice or gentle touch of it's young rider alone, but for whatever reason, something has made it nervous.

Bryce checked his Horsemanship at 10, he rolled 12.

A pause in a conversation can mean two things, and in Bryce’s case, he may assume the other, as his slightly bewildered glance betrays. The shadow of a doubt that his remarks are agreeable to her, and the faint fear that something in his wording may have caused a slight awkwardness on her part. Brows furrow slightly as he regards Lysanor, noticing the unrest in her steed that quickly affects the rider as well. His hand darts forward for the reins of the white stallion, and he leans over offering a soothing “easy now,” to the horse in a low murmur – but it seems his attempt at calming the horse do not really succeed. The Baverstock lets go and straightens in his saddle, an inquiring glance given to the betrothed riding at his side. “It could be a fox hiding in the bushes,” he suggests lightly, even if his gaze lingers thoughtfully on Lysanor’s horse for a moment.

While she's not clinging onto her horse's neck for dear life, Lysanor is holding tightly upon its reigns and leaning forward as she does so, as if bracing herself from some of the rocking done by her steed's sudden nervousness. "If it is a fox." She quickly calls out, "I hope that it will make itself scarce…. and soon!" The runaway horse will continue for a moment, with Lysanor being unable to do much but try to speak to it with soothing words, or at the very least, try to prevent herself from being thrown off entirely. After a bit of a scare, Snow White finally begins to slow, but even still, the horse leaves it's rider rather frazzled by the experience, her grip never loosening from the horse's reign altogether. In fact, Lysanor even has to catch her breath, her words practically trembling from her lips, "He.. He's never done this before. Or, not very often." She knows that she's not the best rider and especially in situations where her horse is spooked. In fact, if anything, the poor Dinton looks as if she has had enough riding for the time being. "Perhaps, perhaps we could use a little rest."

“If it is a fox…” The words of Bryce de Baverstock trail off, and he tips against the pommel of his sword, giving Lysanor an encouraging glance. But as it is, she seems to be more concerned with her horse than with any potential minor peril hiding in the bushes, and so the knight leads Devil along, keeping up with her, his own black charger not any way unusual in its behavior. But then again, as a war horse Devil is used to deal with troubling situations, and so he is little impressed, displaying merely his temper, as he lets out a whinny, followed by a snort – maybe in slight taunt of the other stallion.

When Snow White finally calms down, Bryce slows Devil’s pace to a matching trot, the relief obvious in the knight’s demeanor. “Hmmm,” he makes, studying the culprit of their little disturbing interlude with a slight frown. “It seems, whatever it was, no longer bothers him.” A nod then, as the Baverstock looks up and a faint smile curves his lips, even though it does not quite reach to his eyes, where concern for his betrothed is still evident. “We could indeed stop by the river.” The Wylye. “No need to ride much further.” His head turns and he scans the area about the bank of the river, they have followed on their leisurely ride. “There!”, he smiles then, indicating a place beside a willow tree, with a bit of green covering the ground, where the waters of the River are not far.

By now Carl has finally caught up to them, and soon carries out the instructions of his knight to prepare the place for a tranquil midday rest. A woolen blanket the squire takes from the saddlebags of the pack horse, unfolding it to spread it out on the ground. Then, with a glance towards Bryce, he lifts the saddlebags off the horse and places them at the foot of the tree, before he leads the horses – the pack horse, his dapplegrey rouncey and then Devil – off to the riverbank.

Still looking just a touch uneasy, but slowly gaining her composure, Lysanor breathes in a relieving sigh now that her heart has stopped pounding so furiously within her chest. A calming hand is once more placed upon her horse's neck, when she murmurs, "Snow seems to be faring well again, thank goodness." Even after that bit of excitement on her runaway horse, it is Bryce's smile that does help to ease things and his motioning towards a picturesque section along the path for their picnic to be set up at. The tranquil sounds of the river itself once more helping soothe her even further, for during her ordeal all she could hear were the panic thoughts in her own mind, shutting out much of everything else around her. Guiding Snow towards the chosen spot, she carefully moves to dismount with the aid of her betrothed to safely see that her booted feet are firmly planted upon the ground. Making her way past where Carl begins to lay out the blanket, her bright eyes just stare out at the waters for a moment, enjoying the view immensely, despite both of their own manors having the Nadder running alongside them. Here, she breathes in again, before working to assist the Baverstock's squire in setting out some of the food which she had packed, some fresh fruits and tarts among delicious cheeses and dried meat and breads. "I feel so much better now." She says with a bright smile on her features, "And this truly does feel so perfect."

Indeed, Bryce will move to help his betrothed dismount after he himself has gotten off his saddle, his hands placed at her waist as he lifts her off the back of Snow White. He will study her for a moment longer, as if sensing her panic even if it is already subsiding. But then again, this moment may last a tad longer than appropriate, given his hands still remain at her sides, and his hazel eyes cannot really draw away from Lysanor's gaze. Before he almost reluctantly gives her free and allows her to walk over to Carl to help him prepare the picnic, while the Baverstock knight sees personally to leading Snow towards the stream of the river. "They are all different, the rivers," he remarks in an aside towards his betrothed in passing when Bryce notes her fascination. Soon returning then, he will return her smile. "I am glad for it." His hand moves to brush a strand of red hair from her view. "I assure you, the rest of the day shall be pleasant, as planned."

Fingers unfasten the belt buckle, as to remove the belt with his sword, before Bryce de Baverstock settles himself on the blanket, depositing the sheathed weapon beside it. Dark eyes flit to Carl, and Bryce smiles when the lad finishes the preparations and then moves to stand, looking a bit awkward as if he did not know what to do next. "Go and find yourself a piece of wood, Carl. Then you can work on it with your knife… and maybe carve a knight… or a horse…" It seems to be all the encouragement the squire needs. He walks off, along the stream, leaving the knight and the lady to their conversation.

It's not that Lysanor has never been helped off of her horse before by any man and there were times when Bryce, himself, had assisted in that matter, but just that spare moment when they are both standing so closely, his hands upon her slender waist remaining there for just that much longer than necessary, the act is enough to start her heart racing once again, but this time not out of fear of being unhorsed. Their eyes meet once more, when he boldly brushes a stray strand of auburn hair from features, having come lose during her rocky ride. It's as if she'd never been happier, but this was only the beginning, for they did have a splendid afternoon planned.

When everything is settled, the food and drink laid out and even Carl being given a task to keep him busy, the betrothed pair are finally somewhat alone to enjoy this moment together. Pouring a bit of wine into two cups, she offers one up to the Baverstock lord, before preparing a plate for him, as if going about some wifely duty or other. Seated somewhat closely to him, though keeping what could still be considered a slight polite distance, her dainty hand takes up her own glass, when she asks, "I can imagine that every day will be very much like this one once we are wed." Of course, she is a dreamer, with her own fantasy of what married bliss is like, and this afternoon is pretty much how she perceives her future to be… every day!

Bryce accepts the goblet of wine handed to him by Lysanor de Dinton, still, he will wait to take a first sip, and instead watch her as she prepares a plate for him - and act that holds so much implications about their future. When she sits down beside him, his head turns to regard her with obvious fascination. Still, her rather optimistic remark challenges his honesty and he states: "Not every day, alas, as duties will keep us busy, you and me. But… as long as we can indulge in such moments now and then… I shall be the most content man in the world." He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, enjoying the scents of the forest, the sound of the stream as it flows past them, and of Lysanor's voice that somehow inspires his thoughts to trail off and to indulge in the moment. When his eyes open again, they dart upstream, trying to glimpse Carl whose whistling can be heard in the distance. Then his attention shifts back to Lysanor and he raises his goblet, a deep contentment and ease apparent in his mien as his eyes lock with hers. "To… us.", he says before he brings the goblet to his lips and takes a sip of the red wine contained within.

All of Lysanor's worries from earlier have slowly began to wash away. If anything, she very well may have forgotten the incident with Snow, just this moment, this very instant is the only thing that mattered now and the only thing that she will focus on. Her reclined posture does hint at her more relaxed mood. In all truthfulness, before this courtship or any revelation of feelings, her actions may have been a bit more carefree than they are now that the truth was spoken. She never truly felt shy around him, not overly so, but it's this strange self-consciousness that began to take her over the older she became, her change into womanhood.

"A girl can only dream." The young Dinton says with a laugh regarding her own foolish dreamings, but she knows that Bryce speaks truth enough. Her own goblet raised now, in time to the Baverstock's words, she repeats what is spoken, "To us." in her usual cheerful tone and she, too, takes an initial drink. After some light conversation, there is a sudden boldness that grows within her as well, and during the course of their meal, she does make an offer to feed him some grapes, leaning over gently and in an intimate gesture, yet never going further than what would be considered polite still.

Bryce checked his Lustful at 7, he rolled 12.
Bryce checked his Chaste at 13, he rolled 14.

Bryce has learned already as much as not to object when gentle female fingers offer to feed him. It is distracting though, especially when considering how formal and distant their behaviour has been before. But even the Baverstock appears to be much more at ease, when he allows himself to show more of his admiration, in the sparkle of his gaze in those moments of considerate feeding. There is even a moment when it seems he were about to reach for her hand. And reach for her hand he does, his eyes lifting to meet Lysanor's gaze in the moment his fingers close about her wrist; gently. But then he exhales, lets go of both air and hand and lowers his gaze, eyes rolling slightly as if in silent anger at himself. "Forgive me," he murmurs. "I did not mean to…" Words trail off as Bryce lifts his gaze, a slightly guilty expression there in his eyes. Eyes that suddenly shift to an expression of slight alarm when the whistling of his squire - little more than a faint sound at the corners of his perception - suddenly ceases. The Baverstock knight's head turns, and once again he tries to catch sight of his squire, his eyes narrowing slightly.

This moment shared between them, when Lysanor's own look of longing now stares deeply within her betrothed's eyes each time that she leans in gently, her slender fingers depositing a sweet grape within the young knight's lips. She does not do this without a little flush of color on her cheeks or that fluttering nervousness in her tummy, but she does well to maintain much of her calm composure, despite all of this. Nibbling on her own piece of fruit or cheese when she isn't catering to the Baverstock, she let's out a soft sigh, some of that afternoon laziness now coming over her after eating such a lovely light meal. "I feel as if I could curl up for a little nap out here, feeling the warmth of the summer's day and allowing the tranquil sounds of the river lull me to sleep." It is at that very moment when her wrist is suddenly caught within the man's grip, just as she is about to serve him another round grape. There is some confusion in her eyes at first, perhaps he had had enough and was full and content with their meal as it is, but something tells her that there is more to his actions, the way he holds onto her, that look within his eyes. She falls quiet instantly, her own bright blue eyes lowered rather shyly and perhaps, she would have spoken up and informed her betrothed that there was no need for apologies, but Bryce already senses something is amiss, even if Lysanor doesn't quite catch on just yet.

In the distance, where the young squire was sent to do some carving or other to keep himself occupied and entertained, a stranger now lurks, dressed in the colors of one of Dorset's many manor houses. He looks to have caught the young boy by surprise, and while this knight, himself, is still young, he is older and far more experienced than a mere squire. After the clash earlier between Dorset and Salisbury, perhaps this one had become lost in his retreat, or maybe he was sent here on a mission of his own. Carl aside, he knows that there are others here, having heard the horses racing past him just earlier. Before the squire can react, the Dorset Knight lurches forward to apprehend and down him, first with an arm about his neck and then with a hard blow to the head. Fortunately, for the boy, he is left alive, though may awaken with a hard lump on his skull. With obstacle out of the way, he makes his approach in the direction where the voices of a man and a woman sharing a picnic together are coming from.

Bryce checks his Awareness at 10, he rolled 4.

"There is something wrong," Bryce states meanwhile, when his usual instincts awaken after being dimmed in the slight lull the diverting interactions with his betrothed had caused. Listening and only witnessing the stillness of the river for a moment, something suddenly catches the knight's attention. The low cracking of tiny twigs beneath the heavy boots of a knight, despite the effort to remain unnoticed. "Damn." A single word that leaves him in full awareness of the impending danger. The Baverstock moves to stand, after grabbing the sheathed sword beside the blanket, and then unsheathing the weapon slowly, carefully, as not to alert the man lurking on them.

Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight's Awareness at 10, she rolled 6.

The sudden change of mood continues to startle Lysanor, especially when it's more than clear that she is missing something and this something seemed very important. When Bryce reaches for his sword after carefully rising to her feet, for the moment, the Dinton red-head remains where she is seated. With a worried curiosity, her wide eyes scan the forest around them and she is not even sure of where it is she should look. Her lips will part, but rather than ask a question and make any more of a sound that is necessary, she holds her tongue, being all the more vigilant now that something has raised her betrothed's alarm.

The Dorset knight knows where the couple are seated and believing that his presence has yet to be detected, for who would be paying any attention to some whistling squire, when the couple seemed to have wanted to be left alone, he continues on his way with his own sword outstretched. From his view, he sees one edge of the blanket, but as he approaches closer, he realizes that he wasn't as stealthy or careful as he had wished, so with that in mind, rather than taking the slow approach, he moves swiftly to raise his sword in an attempt to lash out at the other, "Put your weapon down!" He calls out, despite all of this, as if his actions now was merely a warning blow.

Bryce checked his Sword at 13, he rolled 17.
Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight's Sword at 15, she rolled 17.
Bryce checked his Sword at 13, he rolled 9.
Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight's Sword at 15, she rolled 19.
Bryce rolls 4d6 and gets (5 2 6 6) for a total of: (19)
Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight's DEX at 11, she rolled 13.

Bryce is so aware of his betrothed's presence. Even if his eyes are for once directed away from her, the tension in his posture evident, his other hand lifting to gesture towards Lysanor to stay quiet. He straightens when no more effort is wasted on sneaking up on them, hearing the footfalls approaching, and his gaze flashes darkly as he takes in the man in obvious Dorset colors, an observation which in fact makes the Baverstock's eyes widen briefly in astonished dismay. Not following the request to put his weapon down, he counters coldly, "You shouldn't be here.", as his own weapon lashes out against the villain, but neither of the swords connect. What could have been meant as a mere warning makes Bryce swing his sword again - trying to make the other knight back away and bring more distance between him and Lysanor. "Surrender or die!" The Baverstock sword is brought against the Dorset's front with all the strength and momentum Bryce can muster, and indeed, his strike makes the man tumble and fall.

With a mixture of ferocious anger and perhaps even fear, the young Dorset underestimates the Salisbury knight, believing that the man would have no time to lift his sword nor dodge out of the way. The attempted strike cleanly misses, making him stumble forward and it is at this point where the man notices the young maiden still seated on the blanket. "Thought I heard the pair of you." He snorts, his sword arm already withdrawing to take yet another swing at his opponent as his body shifts and turns. Unlike Bryce, perhaps, the Dorset knight has a shield and this he also lifts, but to no avail. Though he believed to have had the advantage from the start, it is the Baverstock who draws first blood and the force is enough to push him back to stumble to the ground.

Lysanor checked her prudent at 10, she rolled 16.
Lysanor checked her reckless at 10, she rolled 5.

Once the strange knight tosses out all care into the wind and runs recklessly towards Bryce, Lysanor is finally alerted to his presence and quickly she shifts, drawing back at the surprise of this sudden attack. This was no knightly patrol, nor was it some formation out on the battlefield. The attack itself came out of the blue and with Bryce mostly unprepared for it, as their leisurely afternoon spent together was violently interrupted. Even when the Dorset initially misses, the young Dinton is still filled with alarm, knowing that one miss does not a battle win… or normally that would be the case. At some point, when the pair of knights exchange a second set of blows, does Lysanor rise quickly and while she should make certain to keep her distance from the clashing of swords and even moving further back into some semblance of safety, instead she continues to linger and call out to the man just as her betrothed delivers one hard blow, "Stop this. Stop this this instant." With her fingers clawing fretfully into the fabric of her tunic, she continues to speak out towards the man in a trembling tone, "You have no business here." And then she realizes that perhaps, she very well may be wrong, "…Or do you?" And to this, her eyes narrow sharply.

Even though he was bested, the knight in the Dorset colors still has some fight in him. For the time being, he refuses to surrender and though he is at a disadvantage, he continues to, at first, kick towards the Baverstock's legs, before thrusting his sword forward in the hopes of at least injuring the other man, if not bringing him down to his level. "There is no surrender!" He calls out, "I dare you to do your worst."

Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight's sword at 15, she rolled 12. (This is a fail, because he has a -5 modifier when on the ground.)
Bryce checked his Sword at 13, he rolled 19. (this is a fail even with a +5 modifier)
This means Dorset Knight is able to get up and attack Bryce without penalty
Bryce checked his Sword at 13, he rolled 9.
Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight Swords at 15, she rolled 19.
Bryce rolls 4d6 and gets (6 5 6 2) for a total of: (19)
Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight DEX at 11, she rolled 14.

Even if the absence of his own shield is felt, Bryce's face is an unmoving mask, his eyes never leaving the Dorset man, even after he manages to drive the man to the ground with a ferocious strike of his sword. Angular features shift ever so slightly, when he hears Lysanor address the man and he frowns. "Fool!", he barks at the enemy before his feet, when the man has the audacity to attempt a kick after him, whilst attacking him with the sword from this disadvantageous angle, an attack that is evaded by the Baverstock, alas, his own attack against the Dorset knight does not hit home either, a fact the Dorset man will use to his advantage as it buys him time to get back on his feet.

"If it is death you seek, who am I to deny you that wish?", Bryce counters with a low grumble. Said, in the moment he swings his sword against his opponent, aiming for the man's abdomen with enough momentum to push him once again off his feet. "Or accept defeat, and I shall bring you to Sarum myself, to turn you over to the Earl's justice."

The Dorset knight is young and brash despite having been bested, his chainmail clad form laid out on the grass. He does have his sword in hand still and even though his shield has not helped him thus far, just the fact that he has one gives him courage enough. "Do you think we will allow you to get away with murder?" He cries out just as he thrusts his sword forward in his seated position as a further act of aggression. The initial hit which he took has already started coloring his maile, leaving a small blood red stain where the Salisbury knight's blade had struck him at the side. Though this young man is a sly one, or perhaps merely lucky, that when Bryce makes his next strike, the Dorset is able to roll out of the way and into a crouching position, where he finally draws himself up to stand. "Do you want this fair maiden to see this lovely picnic here covered in your blood?" He ignores the Dinton's own words, though he keeps watch on her from out of the corner of his eye.

Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Knight's Prudent at 10, she rolled 7.

With those words exchanged, an opportunity arises for both, but the Baverstock takes the initiative first, bringing his sword down hard against his opponent midsection just as the Dorset knight was about to do the same. Without thought of protection and rather with his mind in an aggressive mode, he fails to lift his shield and is once more knocked back, this time landing so near the picnic area that it leaves a goblet knocked over and the once peaceful scenery itself in slight disarray. He was really hurting this time, his brown eyes looking frantically about his surroundings to see if there was a means of escape. And so far, he has found none. For all of his talk and his threats, and in his current injured state, there wasn't much for him to do. His enemy still loomed over him now, sword tip once more pointed at him menacingly. "Okay, okay." He finally calls out, though it is evident that he is angered by what he says next, "I'm not going to attack you again. Just let me up." He even carefully lays out his shield first upon the ground, followed by his sword.

The Baverstock, as of yet unscathed, meets the the retort of the Dorset man with a glare. "She knows," he replies in a tone less taunting, but perhaps even more menacing because of the calm matter-of-factness of his voice, "that I shall not hesitate to give it, if it should be required to defend her." And with cold anger raging in his angular features, Bryce de Baverstock has deeds follow his words, and soon looks down at his opponent, his sword aimed at the man's throat. "Stay down.", he says, in a tone that does not accept any objection. Dark eyes flit briefly towards Lysanor, who should be in his line of vision now, given the Dorset knight knocked a goblet over. "There is a rope in the saddle bag of Carl's horse.", he offers quietly, in subtle plea for her to get it. The mention of his squire brings his gaze right back to the villain on the ground. "What did you do to him?" His foot comes forward, to kick both sword and shield out of the man's reach.

Caught up in the excitement and tension of the attack on their pleasant picnic, Lysanor is now hesitant to leave Bryce's side even when he requests that she goes to bring him some much needed rope. It was as if she were afraid that if she did leave the tables would magically turn, but even still, she knows that if she remains the fallen Dorset might very well attempt to rise and then her fears could eventually come true. So swiftly she moves to where their horses linger and drink from the river, then searches through Carl's things before finding a decent amount of rope within. It seems that knights are truly prepared in all of their travels.

The downed knight's body remains tense, especially with the tip of the Salisbury knight's sword directed towards his throat. "Why. Will you do to me what I did to him?" His words come out rather ominous and perhaps realizing this, he quickly states, in case Bryce is the sort to act swiftly without knowing the true fate of the squire, "He's lying where I left him. I only struck him once." His eyes then flicker to where his weapon and shield are removed to, though he tries not to show the attention given to them, "What will you do with me now?"

And just at that moment, Lysanor arrives with the required rope which and this she hands to her betrothed, looking rather relieved that nothing has changed since her absence. "I will try to seek out Carl, he may need tending to." And she realizes that the Dorset knight will require tending to as well.

Tension remains in Bryce’s posture as well, his attention mostly focusing on the Dorset knight. When he sees Lysanor leave to get the rope, his dark eyes shift then to the man, as he keeps his sword pointed towards his throat. His jaws clench visibly, a dark fire flashing in the Baverstock’s gaze. “That depends,” is his brief yet ominous reply to the ominous question, brought forth with an ill-boding glare. But as things are, the Baverstock is busy considering the many options and possible perils, the consequences, thoughts that race in his head as he watches their captive knight with attentive caution. When Lysanor returns and offers her help to look after Carl, he inquires sharply of the Dorset knight: “You are alone? Or are there others?” Whilst accepting the rope from her with his vacant hand.

The moment continues to remain tense as they both seem to be waiting for the red-haired maiden's return. There is even a flicker in the Dorset knight's eyes when Lysanor does arrive with the rope, her own gazing meeting his as he considers his response to this new question posed. Something then comes to mind and here the knight states, "There are others and they will not treat you or your lady companion with kindness if anything should happen to me." He speaks these words so boldly and yet no one else has come to his aid just yet, if they truly are hiding out in these forests.

Remembering the direction in which Bryce had sent Carl off to just moments prior to all of this, Lysanor's attention turns that way, though from where she stands, she can see no signs of the lad. While there was no action taken against her when she went to the horses to fetch the rope, she does scan the area carefully, less there are others looming around. "These others, surely they have no care you either, to allow you to be bested in this manner." Her own words come out just as bold, even if she is uncertain as to whether this man speaks truth and here she looks to Bryce, attempting to read his features for any sign of his thoughts.

“That may be,” Bryce counters with a grim smile, “there may be others who care for you. But I do not, and neither does this lady.” He gives Lysanor a brief reassuring glance and and nods his head, before his attention returns to the Dorset man, keeping his sword, even if he shifts it into his other hand as he kneels down, pinning the man to the ground while he readies the rope.

Bryce checked his Cruel at 10, he rolled 16.
Bryce checked his Merciful at 10, he rolled 14.

The sudden swing for the man’s head with the right fist, knocking the Dorset man’s helmet right off his head, may come as a surprise, but it is the next punch into his face that is possibly aimed to knock the Dorset man out temporarily as well as to administer some kind of vengeance for what Carl had to suffer – the extent of which still needs to be explored. It is then, that Bryce will deposit his own sword on the ground beside him – out of reach for the Dorset man of course – as two hands are needed to bind the man’s wrists, which the Baverstock does with grim determination. “You will stay here with him while I go looking for Carl,” he announces, glancing at Lysanor over his shoulder briefly as he finishes his task of tying the man up. “Do you have a dagger, just in case…?”

The Dorset knight's gaze shifts between the pair in quiet contemplation, seeing whether either of the two will yield to the very idea that some of his allies may be waiting and even observing all of this. When the Baverstock continues on with his plans, his Dorset foe does jerk one of his shoulders hard as if finding discomfort at being pinned down in this manner. It's only a mild bit of struggling and with Bryce still keeping his own sword in hand, the downed knight will do little else. There is a point where he looks as if he is about to speak once more, perhaps to plead with the Baverstock for leniency once again or even to be allowed his freedom, but before anything is uttered, he is silenced by a quick jab to the jaw, a strike which will leave the Dorset perfectly still as his every thoughts fade into unconsciousness.

Once the man is out, Lysanor will do what she can to assist her betrothed in the Dorset's binding, shifting the man's position if need be or simply helping to hold his wrists together as Bryce wraps the thick rope about them. Only then can the Dinton lady breathe some semblance of a sigh of relief, but her mind does go to Carl when the Baverstock brings his squire up. Reaching for the dagger hanging at her belt, she nods quickly to the question, "I do and I am unafraid to use it if I must." These are brave words spoken, though she's never had to use the dagger in any sort of self-defensive measure in her life. She only carries one for it can sometimes help with cutting off pieces of cloth or bandages, nothing more. "Go and find Carl and I will look after him on your return."

The poor squire lays just where the Dorset knight had left him. There was no attempt to hide his unconscious form from view, so he is not difficult to find. If anything, there may be some bruising found where the invading knight had taken him from behind, some minor redness around his neck, but it is the small cut on his forehead where he was struck by the hilt of the enemy's sword that truly stands out.

A bit of gratitude flashes in the Baverstock's mien, when Lysanor moves to help him with the captive, and he shoots her a glance, one brow lifting, as if in nonverbal apology for the violence administered to the Dorset man before her very eyes. He nods when she points him to her dagger. "Good." Brief acknowledgement of her brave words, a slight twitch there at the corners of his mouth as his gaze brushes the blanket and the disorder caused by his fight with the unbidden intruder, and he frowns. "I am sorry." Said as he reaches for his sword and moves to stand. "I shall find him. I believe I know where to look." A little bit upstream, as it is from there he had heard the familiar whistling of his squire before their picnic had gone awry.

An assuring glance is offered to his betrothed, before Bryce leaves her behind, walking towards the river first and then moving along the stream from there. His pace picks up when he spots the form of Carl, and once he has reached him, the knight kneels down and turns the lad onto his back. Checking on his breathing first, even if the blood on his squire's forehead looks slightly alarming. "Carl! I am here… You're going to be alright…", he murmurs - perhaps more to soothe his own nerves than those of his unconscious squire - as Bryce de Baverstock lifts him with his arms and places him over his shoulder, then moves to stand. "Damned be those Dorset knights." A low grumble that leaves his lips as he carries Carl all the way back to where Lysanor awaits.

There were no apologies needed, Lysanor knew as much but even when her betrothed speaks those words all that she can offer him during such a harrowing event is a reassuring smile. Of course, the Baverstock will think that is he that will need to offer up such smiles to the young maiden, for he has known battle and she has not. Or rarely is she so close to the actual combat, the way she had been this day. He would also not be wrong to think this, for she is still shaken by what had transpired, though she does her best to hide any evidence of this fact.

Now with Bryce gone, the Dinton keeps her dagger within a tight grasp. With her free hand, she begins to pack away the contents of their lovely picnic. They may need the blanket space for Carl, so she quickly works to get the place cleared, though one section of the blanket is soaked with the spilled wine. All the while, however, she does keep a careful eye on their prisoner, not wishing to miss any bit of stirring or movement on the man's part. She is curious as to the reason why he was here, this deep in Salisbury. Most of the fighting that she had heard of took place along the border.

When the Baverstock does return with his wounded squire in his arms, Lysanor slowly rises to stand though doesn't take steps to approach the pair just yet, in the case that the Dorset knight would suddenly make a move in her absence. "Lay him out on the blanket." She would call out to Bryce, motioning to the now cleared section. As always, she observes the injured from afar, noting the cut upon his head immediately once they draw close enough and seeing no other signs of bleeding. Only once the Baverstock is free to resume guard duty over their still unconscious prisoner will she free up her own hands and begin work on inspecting the young squire.

This was not at all like they had both imagined their pleasant little ride to the forestial countryside would go. It shows in the frown on his angular features, when Bryce kneels down and lowers Carl onto the blanket, the glance he shoots Lysanor showing concern and regret; but relief as well, that she at least is unharmed and has not met with other unpleasant surprises during his brief absence. “He is unconscious but alive,” he states the obvious, then exhales as he rises to his feet to make room for Lysanor, and more importantly, to take over the vigil of Dorset knight, his jaws setting as he looks down at the man, considering him and the situation. “I believe this knight will have quite the tale to tell,” the Baverstock muses, looking to Lysanor then, and the expression in his dark eyes softens as he observes her having a look on his squire’s injuries. “Carl will be alright, won’t he?”

Lysanor checked her firstaid of 14, she rolled 2.

Once Bryce lays his young squire out on the blanket, Lysanor moves to kneel beside the boy, though not without sharing a still nervous, but relieved look with her betrothed in passing. She was relieved that this was finally over as there have been no signs, which she could see, of any other villains lurking in the forest. As the Baverstock takes up watch upon the unconscious knight once more, the red-headed Dinton searches the squire for signs of any hidden injuries, lifting his tunic briefly to ensure that there was no bleeding, swelling or any bruises that looked as if they could prove dangerous. She also checks for fractures and the like, but is pleased to realize that the only real injury which the lad had taken was the one so clear upon his brow. This was a small gash which she cleans out gently with a cloth soaked in vinegar. From there, she applies a soothing ointment before holding a clean, dry cloth steadily in place above the wound to help stop the bleeding, before she wraps a length of bandages around the top of the boy's head. "While I would not say that the Dorset had been kind to Carl, he did no grievous injuries to the your squire." Her gaze then lifts when she considers this, "Primarily, because he was targeting you instead, being his major threat."

With soft words and gentle tap to the young squire's hand, Lysanor then attempts to wake the boy, though at times, she continues her conversation, speaking openly of her own thoughts, "I do wonder if he very well may have a camp near here. Or at least his horse must be somewhere, if not a squire. I'm not quite certain what his plans or intentions were before our paths crossed." With a cloth now dampened with water from a bottle at her side, she begins to dab at the boy's face and neck in her further attempts to wake him.

Bryce nods simply to her assessment of Carl’s wounds and the reason given. A dark fire flashes in his gaze as it shifts once again to study the tied up Dorset at his feet. “Which I turned out to be indeed.”, he says, while keeping quiet about other implications; of what would have happened should he have failed in defending them. Lysanor’s remarks draw him from his rather dark contemplations, and his gaze lifts to look her way. “You are right. Perhaps I should go and look, once you are done with tending to Carl.”, words that leave his lips with new determination. Seeing her gentle efforts then to rouse the squire from his unconscious state, his brows furrow in a mixture of impatience and amusement, “Wait!” Leaving his post by the Dorset only briefly to bend down and apply a moderate slap to Carl’s cheek. “Wake up you lazy bum. Time to rise and shine.”, Bryce says, a dryness to his tone, and mischief apparent in his grin.

The Baverstock's words bring a sudden sense of foreboding within Lysanor's heart and she quickly turns to look upon her betrothed with concern in her eyes when she states, "Just be careful. Though I know that this is our home, I'm full of uncertainty as to what more may be lurking out there." Once these words are said, she continues to gently tap at the poor boy, before it is Bryce who suddenly interrupts her and strikes out at his squire's cheek. Looking more than just a little surprised, the Dinton would very well ask what the man thought that he was doing, but seeing that impish grin upon his lips, her own lips twist into a faint smirk, before she announces at Carl's stirring, "It looks like your tactics have worked." The boy will feel a throbbing ache in his head and that bit of stinging upon his brow to go along with his disorientation. Here, Lysanor offers him a little water to drink, when she continues on in a warm tone, "I'm glad to see that you're awake. There is no rush to stand. Take your time. You took a hard hit to the head earlier, so I'm sure that you're feeling it even now."

A curt nod comes in response to Lysanor's words of concern. "I shall be careful," Bryce promises, noting her disquiet, and he offers her a reassuring smile. A smile that will widen into a grin, once Lysanor has to acknowledge some effect to his rather rough manner of bringing his squire back into conscience.

"Carl!" Attention shifts to his squire, when Bryce gives him an assessing gaze, and for a moment it seems as if there is cold anger welling up inside of him, at who caused this. "It is alright. You were struck down. But we managed…", the knight assures, indicating the bound Dorset over his shoulder. "I know you must feel bad. But you must promise me to look after Lady Lysanor while I check the area for his horse. Maybe there is a squire, too. I'll be right back. But it is important that you keep an eye on our prisoner."

Carl moans with pain but apart from that, he seems to be coherent enough to nod to his knight's request. "I shall, Sir.", he says as he sits up, pale but refusing to show any more discomfort than necessary. "I am relying on you," Bryce de Baverstock notes, before he heads off, sword in hand, on his scouting quest of their immediate surroundings.

"My safety is now in your hands." Lysanor brings up in a light-hearted manner, knowing well enough that both her words now and Bryce's have put pressure upon the young squire. Though she is quick to add, "I have every faith in you, Carl. And I'm sure," Here, her gaze flickers in the direction of their prisoner, "that if this man were to awaken, you wouldn't hesitate to return the favor done to you." Now, her gaze lifts to meet with her betrothed's for a mere moment where she graces him with a reassuring smile before his departure, that pang of worry still gnawing on her conscience.

It's difficult for Bryce to determine where to look for a horse or campsite, but with some wandering, especially in the direction from whence they had ridden from, there are signs that the man may have made his way on foot somewhere along that path. When he wanders further, he will in fact find a campsite, around the stretch of road where Snow White began acting up. It's a good distance off the main road, but several horses can be found here and a squire. The boy stands near where the horses are tied, looking nervously around him as tries to calm down the rouncy which is most likely his to ride for the time being, though it may be clear that it is not the horse that needs calming and that this very action very well might be calming to the squire's own nerves.

Even if he goes about it slowly and carefully, Carl moves to stand, his hand checking for the sword at his belt. “Aye, my lady,” he assures, fixing his gaze on the Dorset man, a grim smile appearing on his freckled features as he perceives the bloodied state of the ringmail. “He’d better not try anything he will come to regret.” His eyes shift to where his own knight has vanished, before he adds: “And don’t you worry. Sir Bryce will take care of it and be back soon.” But can he really be so sure?

It will indeed take longer than the rather optimistic estimation of his squire would suggest. But when Bryce de Baverstock finally reaches the area where a nervous squire waits with two horses, trying even to calm one, he needs to make up his mind quickly.

Bryce checked his Prudent of 10, he rolled 16.
Bryce checked his Reckless of 10, he rolled 12.

Trying to get as close as he can, Bryce will approach with the limited stealth, the armor of ringmail and his own pair of heavy boots will allow.

You make a check for Dorset Squire's Awareness at 8, you rolled 12.
He succeeds at this because there’s a +5 modifier due to someone sneaking in armor.
Bryce attempts to sneak up on the Dorset squire, +check DEX-1
Bryce checked his dex of 15, he rolled 6.
DEX roll -10 failed by 1.

The Dorset squire looks to be around 16 and of average height and build for his age. He sticks close to the horses as if their presence brings him comfort, but his continuous fidgeting makes it clear that he is not comfortable at all. Not with his knight being gone for this long. They were in enemy territory and just a moment earlier, they had heard the sound of horses traveling the path nearby. Luckily, there had been no other signs of travellers since that moment along that particular road.

The Baverstock's attempts at sneaking while in armor is mostly futile and when the squire believes he may have heard a sound, he is not quite sure where it was coming from. So turning to glance over his shoulder and hoping that the sound was just his own knight returning from his task, the boy is surprised to find that it is not his knight at all. "Who— Who goes there?" He calls out, a hand reaching for the sword at his belt.

Bryce checked his Prudent of 10, he rolled 8.
Bryce checked his Honest of 16, he rolled 14.

The first thing the squire will notice is that Bryce has his own sword drawn, even if it is at the moment not raised in a menacing gesture towards the lad. What is raised is his left hand in a manner that implies he is willing to deal with the squire in other ways than violence. "Sir Bryce de Baverstock," the knight replies. "Of Salisbury." Dark eyes assess the Dorset squire for a brief spell, but then Bryce continues. "I shall be honest with you, lad. Your knight sneaked up on us. He attacked us. He is my prisoner now. But he is alive. We are going to turn him over to the Earl's justice."

He moves slowly, approaching as far as the squire will allow. "I do not mean you ill, lad. But I need his horse, to get him as comfortably and swiftly to Sarum as possible." A brow is raised, as the Baverstock exhales, considering his next words carefully. "You have a choice, lad. You can accompany us and stay with your knight, who may, as a prisoner of war still have a chance to return to your home Dorset. You can… try to avenge your knight and attack me." A cold glare is given the squire, as the knight rolls his shoulders to display his readiness to meet the lad in a sword fight, should he agree to this folly. "Or… you can ride away. Alone. On your own in enemy lands."

Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Squire's Prudent at 10, she rolled 5.

The boy's eyes grow wide when the Baverstock makes his way closer, that hand still on the hilt of his own sword at his belt, but he has yet to draw the weapon out. If the boy looked nervous standing there near the horses by his lonesome, he looks panic-stricken now. "Where is Sir Goronwy?" Is the squire's first question with a trembling that can be heard in his voice, but he tries to stand strong. The words which leave the Salisbury's knight's lips is what this young Doset squire had feared. Goronwy wouldn't be returning any time soon to come to his aid, thus leaving him here to make these decisions on his own.

When Bryce continues to inch closer, he can sense the boy's body tensing, the grip at his sword tightening yet it remains still where it rests. He very well may wish to try and avenge his knight or at least make certain that he is not taken prisoner, in fact, there is a point when he turns look at the pair of horses again, perhaps considering fleeing. But instead, though reluctantly as he does this, his hand finally withdraws from his sword so that both hands are shown to the Salisbury knight in a motion that states that he yields. "What will the Earl do to…us?" Surely, he would be tried alongside Sir Goronwy as well!

“I wish I could tell you, lad,” Bryce replies, “but in fact, only the Earl can answer that question.” Even so, his brows lift when he hears the name of the knight – this a piece to the puzzle he was still missing. “You need to hand me your sword,” he tells the squire, because this is how yielding is done in times of war. “And then we will ride back to the others.” Dark eyes flit over the form of the squire, lingering for a moment on those raised hands with a thoughtful expression. “What is your name? As I’ve given you mine. And what were you and Sir Goronwy doing so far from the Dorset border, if I may ask?” Words of surprising courtesy, but they are given in the authoritative tone of a knight addressing a captive.

Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Squire's Honest at 10, she rolled 17.
Lysanor makes a check for Dorset Squire's Deceitful at 10, she rolled 2.

Reluctantly, but he knows that it needs to be done, the boy slowly and carefully slides his sword from out of his belt before tossing the weapon down on the grass just before the Salisbury knight's feet. When he is allowed to, he turns towards the horses to prepare them for travel. "I know nothing about any of that. I'm just a squire. I knew that Sir Goronwy needed to make the trek out here, but he did not tell me why. Nor did I really want to follow." The young squire loosens the binds of the first horse and then moves on to the second. "Meic." He says, "My name is Meic." Once the horses are ready to make the short journey to the Baverstock's campsite, Meic looks at his own campsite which they will be leaving abandoned for the time being. "You must be quite strong to take on Sir Goronwy."

Bryce checked his Awareness of 10, he rolled 14.
Bryce checked his Suspicious of 10, he rolled 8.

Bryce will use the opportunity to pick up the sword, once the squire turns to prepare the horses. “You didn’t want to follow?”, he echoes, straightening, his sword still drawn as he holds the weapon of the squire in his other hand. “I can hardly blame you.” Dark eyes watch the squire warily as he goes about his task of preparing the horses. “Well then. Meic. I believe you have a piece of rope with you? Because I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you.” He sheathes his own sword, but keeps the sheathed sword of the squire in his hand. At Meic’s comment about him being strong has Bryce’s features tighten into a menacing grin. “Others have made the mistake of underestimating me. Your knight was certainly not the first.”, he snarls. “So… I’ve given you your options, and it seems you’ve made your choice. A captive needs to be bound. Hand me that rope, lad.”

Meic doesn't like the idea of being tied up and wishes that he had taken a horse and fled now! Once he turns back towards the Salisbury knight, after having untied the horses, he can only watch the man cautiously seeing that his sword is still in the Bryce's hands. "O- Okay." He murmurs, then turns back to the horses once more to fetch a good sized rope from one of the satchels. "I don't need to be bound. I won't do anything." He tries to plead, even though he hands the rope over. The other man is the one with the swords after all.

Bryce checked his Awareness of 10, he rolled 4.

Bryce may have enough empathy to anticipate the Dorset squire's reluctance, at least he does not appear surprised by his rather meek objection. "As much as I want to believe you, I need to make sure you won't become a problem.", the Baverstock says when Meic hands him the rope so reluctantly, and a faint but reassuring smile softens his rather grim expression. "I am sure you wouldn't act differently if you were in my place." The shadow of a smile vanishes as swiftly as it came. After all, the Dorset man was an enemy after all. As he ties the hands of the squire, Bryce catches the glimpse of something sticking out from Meic's belt, still he will first finish his task before he will reach for it, his fingers snatching a piece of parchment there that had been neatly folded. "What is this?", he inquires, dark eyes flitting temporarily to the lad, before he unfolds what appears to be a rough drawn map of Salisbury, with several of the manors marked, and numbers scribbled beside some of those. "I see.", the Baverstock murmurs, giving Meic a grim look as he folds the piece of parchment again and stows it away in his own belt. "Now, get on the horse, lad." At which Bryce will assist, with holding the squire's steed by the reins and keeping the stirrup in place, until Meic has safely mounted. Swinging himself into the saddle of Sir Goronwy's charger is a much easier task, Bryce soon appearing at Meic's side as he claims the reins of the squire's steed.

"Don't try anything stupid, Meic. Then you'll live long enough to face the Earl's justice.", the Baverstock warns quietly, backing up his words with the dark glance he shoots him. Then he spurs the charger on, and leads his other captive all the way back to where he had left Lysanor, Carl and the injured Dorset knight.

The boy continues to look nervous as he holds his hands up so that the Baverstock knight may tie the rope around his wrists to keep them bound. Though, once Bryce takes notice of the parchment at his belt, poor Meic looks even more uneasy, his gaze lowering and drifting off the side when his captor quickly looks the crudely drawn map over. The lad is smart enough to not make any protests of speak a word even though he knows that his enemy must very well know what he looks at when viewing the map, though there is that moment that comes up once again where he wished he had ran earlier for that window of opportunity is quickly closing for him.

Lysanor checked her firstaid of 14, she rolled 3.
Lysanor checked her firstaid of 14, she rolled 10.
Lysanor rolls 1d3 and gets (3) for a total of: (3)
Lysanor rolls 1d3 and gets (3) for a total of: (3)

The brief ride back to the picnic site is done in relative silence, unless the Baverstock had more to say. Sir Goronwy is still unconscious and Lysanor had been tending to the man's wounds well enough with the help of Bryce's squire. On seeing her betrothed's return, so quickly rises to greet him, though she does notice that he has brought along yet another prisoner, this one a young squire very much like Carl. "I'm so relieved that you've returned." The worry is clear within the Dinton's voice as she had been fretting silently for much of that time when Bryce had been absent. "And you've brought more company." A lone looks is given the unconscious Dorset knight before her eyes lift in an attempt to meet with the boy's. "Your knight is alive. I've looked after his injuries and I believe that he will heal nicely." These words are kind, perhaps to put the boy at some ease, despite the tension which she is feeling. Returning her attention to the Baverstock, he will more than likely see her tension within those expressive eyes. "I suppose we should be packing up soon if we are to make it into Sarum in a timely fashion."

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