(1865-08-25) Home At Last
Home At Last
Summary: The last leg of the journey and the arrival back at Firen.
Date: 08-25-2014
Related: Any pertaining the group rescuing Claire and any of Rook Keep
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Kylier  Kaicee  Henric  Claire  Letholdus  Lianna  Tristan  Anjin  

Countryside Galenthia
Trees, grass, dirt, water and stuff.
08-25-1865

It is a new day and the group is nearer to Firen, probably they will arrive this evening about the time the sun fades over the edge of the earth and the moon makes her majestic appearance. At the moment though, the cooler night is a distant yearning, for riding while fully armored is a hot and weary job. Yet, it is exactly what Kaicee is doing. Her Knight is somewhere, probably in the front speaking with his sister or one of the other more important figures while his squire is riding nearer the back where it is quieter. Her horse seems to be holding his own, while they stop for water and allowing the horses to be cooled off, it had only happened a half an hour ago, so they were on the trail again to home. She squints up to gauge the time of the day, finding it to be after midday. They had made good time.

Kylier has shed some of his upper armor as he brushes down his horse, a bucket of cool water is at his feet and the brush is dipped into it now and then before he turns it back to the horse. "There, that has to feel better," he says softly to his mount. He continues on, only furtive glances to the others are given, really just to see if they are ready to hit the road again. He tends to his horse, the way he does seems to show that he doesn't take it just as a beast of burden but more like caring for a good friend. "See, the other horses, they may have cost more but they are not anything like you, right? Just wait till they see you in action. Kind of like me, we are a pair aren't we?" He chuckles, fully at ease with his horse and not like he is around others. For the ride he has mostly stayed at his station and has spoken little to anyone.

Kaicee had been quieter than usual, though she did speak when spoken to, her expression thoughtful or it could even be called pensive. When they stopped, she had tended to her horse nearby Kylier, so that when he spoke to his horse, she flashes him a smile. "Sounds like you love your horse as much as I love mine. He belonged to my uncle." When there is a call to prepare to depart again, she looks towards the one announcing it and nods, preparing herself. "My uncle was a good man, a good Knight." A touch of melancholy touches upon her features and then she is mounting her horse, fluidly, one boot in the stirrup as she lifts herself up and over.

At the sound of another's voice, Kylier turns quickly. To quickly. For his foot steps right into the bucket that was at his feet. From there things only went from bad to worse. He stumbles, tries to catch himself, fails. Down he goes with a clatter of armor, the bucket over turned and now soaks the ground upon which he lays. A few near by hear the noise and peer over, then laugh. Kylier quickly gets to his feet, a bit ungraceful move with a bucket stuck to one's foot. "Why are you sneaking up on me?" He asks, glaring, face turning red as a beet. "Don't you know it's not nice to sneak up on someone?" There are murmurs from some others and more laughter follows. The newly appointed Lancer seems to be looking for a place to crawl under by now. A deep breath and with out meeting Kaicee's eyes he sighs before "I'm sorry, I should not have spoken to you so." He shakes his foot to dislodge the bucket. Of course this only makes the scene more comical and more laughter follows.

The chain reaction catches Kaicee by surprise and she can only watch, her reaction not enough to help him not to take the tumble and sprawl in the water and dirt. When he stands, the bucket on his foot, she looks taken aback at the glaring face and the scolding.. and then she cannot contain it any longer, her lips twitch and she laughs. His apology is waved off and she shakes her head. "You are fine, Sir Kylier, just fine." The words manage to be spoken despite her laughter. "You look all drowned." She is on her horse now as the call had come through but she is poised to dismount. "Do you need help?"

When she laughs, he glares again, but it is quickly lost. "I don't need help, I need a bell. That is what I need. A bell and a strap of leather." He begins to get his armor together, trying to shake some of the wet off of him as he does. He pauses and looks back to Kaicee, still not meeting her eyes "A bell, you know, a bell to tie around your neck so I will hear you coming and you won't be sneaking any more." The armor is slipped over and he turns so that his wet backside is to the squire "Since you are here, how about cinching up my armor." He holds his arms out so that the clasps can be easily reached. In a soft voice, not looking at her "I do love my horse. He is always with me, a true friend." There is a pause "Who is your uncle?"

That only makes Kaicee laugh harder and she lifts a brow as she responds. "Are you calling me a cow? Maybe Bessie, instead of Kaicee?" Another chuckle is given and she holds her reins as she watches him try and dry off. With his request, she places the reins across the saddle horn so they will not trip up her horse, and she easily dismounts, moving in to cinch up his armor, fastening the clasps. She cannot help but to tease him. "Have you gained weight? I am not so sure these will clasp so easily." Even though her fingers nimbly do so, despite her words. She was getting even for him calling her a cow! Only when her uncle is mentioned does she sober up and finish. "My uncle was Symon Romante. He died very recently in a battle. He was my knight."

"Not a cow, a cat. A sneak-up-on-you cat. Perhaps I shall call you Cat from now on." Though she may not be able to see he frowns, a click of his tongue, "I have not gained weight! Perhaps you shall need to attend to learning the duties of a squire more than sneaking, Cat." Once the armor is finished, he turns, still not meeting her eyes "I am sorry to hear that, Cat. I truly am. I did not mean to open a fresh wound." He seems to want to say more but stops. After taking a deep breath "We should be off, I guess," he points out the others seem to be forming up already.

There is still amusement in her eyes even as he dubs her a new nickname and Kaicee moves to remount her horse and take the reins in hand again. "I did not know you before to compare, I was only teasing you, Sir Kylier." At his suggestion, both brows lift and she bows her head, agreeing. "Perhaps I should be attending to learning my duties, though I have heard no complaints from my Knight, Sir Henric. Though maybe you could tell him I was not doing my duty if you believe me so lax in them." His apology about her uncle is met with a ghost of a smile. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

"All know that the training of the Langer is one to be the bench mark. I do not know Sir Henric, but perhaps he knows not of your sneaking about, Squire Cat?" A jest, well partially at least. He goes to put his brush and items away before climbing up on his horse. All the while he has spoken he won't meet her eyes. As he sits there is a bit of a squish sound, he frowns and then sighs. "Lovely," he comments to himself.

It is, the One God willing, the last stop they'll make today ere they reach Firen later that day. The Viscount who leads their party, former Commander of the combined forces of Ironhold and Alicante, has mounted up on his bay mare. Young Culain, his 12 year old squire, tends to the Viscount's grey-white war stallion before the boy mounts his chestnut gelding and will lead the Alicante bred grey for his knight.

Once he is up, Letholdus urges the mare to pick up her hooves and she is eager to do so. The sleek coppery bay, much lighter in build than his stallion, quickly canters past the group and around to have a look at them. The Templar reins her around, making certain their prisoners of war are well tended and not looking over heated, keeping his promise that they be well treated. The commoners of no import were sent south towards Alicante or Ironhold, but these are the knights and nobles, or other persons deemed important enough to take to Firen for the Queen, Dus's close kinswoman. Sir Henric and at least one other Royal Lancer assigned to the Viscount keep near to their lord as Letholdus circles back up along the line. He raies his baritone to carry, "Let us press through the day, and come the evening, we should sup in Firen!"

"You sound awfully angry at me, Lancer." Kaicee offers, just an observation, an amused one if the twitch of her lips is any indication. "I think I will make a point to go sneaking around and catching you off guard." For a moment, she gives him a serious look. "I know what becoming a Lancer requires, I want to be one myself. I have to get knighted first." While he still avoids her gaze, she looks up ahead at the others "They will leave without us." Another bubble of laughter escapes at the squish sound, but she presses her lips together, knowing better than to comment, amused or not. The announcement from the Viscount has her giving Kylier a meaningful.. 'I told you so' look.

Hearing Letholdus give his commands, Kylier turns and nods before moving to his station, more in the outside middle of the pack. As he does he glance over to Kaicee "It is not your behind that will ride in the saddle wet from here to Firen but mine. Not a pleasant way to ride, I assure you, Cat. And I do know who's fault my discomfort can be attributed to." He smiles as he clicks his tongue to spur his horse on "I shall not forget, Cat." But her words of being a Lancer, not far from his own. Years of saying the same, if not out loud at least in his own head. Recalling this he does look back, meeting her eyes with his own "If you truly want that, Cat, then never let it out of your head. Everything you do, every thought you have, direct it to your dream. For if I can do it, I am sure you can do as well." There is a grin and his eyes drop "That is if you stop your sneaking."

Letholdus trots his mare towards the front of the line but in passing he hears his distant cousin speaking the the new Lancer who's joined them. Dus reins the mare to drop to a walk beside them, "A Langer, didn't you say? A good House, long in service to my own." His dark eyes flicker over Kylier and past him to Kaicee to give her a nod, "Squire." The Viscount relaxes in his saddle, his wounds he took in the recent fighting for Rook Keep healing well. What remains visible is the mark in his neck where a bullet struck him, but it is stitched by Lady Claire's capable hand and the Templar now forgoes a bandage to cover it for it is healing well.

New Lancer or not, Kylier isn't much younger than Letholdus himself, who's quite a veteran of the Succession War. He looks the other man over, trying to place him in his memory. "Tell me about yourself. You are newly come to the Lancers but you are old enough to have had your spurs a good long while. Whom did you squire for?"

Nudging her horse forward, Kaicee rides at a slow pace as the group gets moving. Leaning slightly forward in her saddle, she shifts around to get comfortable for the remainder of the ride. "I imagine it will be chafing. Look, I have some spare pants you can wear if you need." Flashing him a quick wicked smile, she rejoins with, "Not to say you can get into my pants, as it were." Laughing at her own joke, she tosses a wink in for good measure. "Oh I want to be a lancer," she responds with heat. "Nothing will stop me." Though the words are not vehement, they are close to it.

Lifting her gaze at the greeting, she bows her head and offers a bright smile to the Viscount. "Your Excellency, Sir." Cousin. "Might I buy you an ale tonight at the pub?" The offer given, she has to mentally count her coins, and she wiggles the small pouch, testing the weight. Yeah, she had enough.

When Letholdus comes near, Kylier sits a bit more upright, more, well Lancer like. At least he hopes so. A bow of his head "Your Excellency, my family has been in the service of Langer for as long as we can remember." He does smile a tad, his eyes meeting those of Letholdus "I thank you for saying such things of Langer, Your Excellency." A deep breath is taken in and let out slowly "There is little to tell. I, like my father and his father before him, have served as common born Knights for Langer. I was sponsored to be a Royal Lancer, my own dream," he gives Kaicee a smile, not meeting her eyes though. He holds out his hands a bit, opening his cloak and looking down with pride at his black armor with the white griffen "And now, by the grace of the One, I am one." He smiles a nod nods "A few sunrises and sunsets I have seen, this is true. I squired for many of the common Knights of Langer, Your Excellency. My father felt it was best to learn from many so that I would be a better Knight."

"You think?" A rhetorical question to Kaicee's statement of chaffing. Then the thought of wearing /her/ spare pants causes his face to flush, he becomes tongue twisted as she speaks of getting into her pants. All he can do is choke out "I shall be fine, Cat." He looks at his helm that hangs on the side of his saddle, perhaps longing to put it on to cover his face and hide the blush.

The Viscount arches a dark brow, thinking that strange to squire with more than one knight unless the original had died. It's certainly the usual tradition. "I see." So not a Langer himself, but a hedge knight in vassalage. A slow nod to that, reserving judgement of the man until he knows more of him. Blood doesn't always tell and a man may shape his own life. "You must have been good to have come so far. You will certainly be tested, and if you prove your value, well rewarded."

What is that to chafing pants and getting into Kaicee's? Letholdus blinks at her, such unlady like words - but then she is a knight, not simply a sheltered lady. The Viscount tries not to let a smile show as he looks ahead up the road. Yes, don't laugh. He catches what Kylier calls her and clears his own throat, "She is the Lady Kaicee /Romante/ and Squire to Sir Henric Cassomir. You would do well to remember her station within our Royal House, Lancer Kylier." Still, the Templar is not blinde to a little good natured banter among their ranks as long as respect is also maintained.

Guiding the ill tempered Roan forward along the line of prisoners that are being escorted (shepherded) to Firen, Lianna approaches the position of the Viscount and brings the roan into a matching pace. Seeing, and actually hearing, the conversation already in progress, the healer holds the roan back a few paces so as to not interrupt. As the conversation doesn't actually concern her, no one is wounded at present or liable to become so, she takes the time to fish a square of not-quite-stale travel bread out of one of the pockets of the pack she's wearing and crumbles off one edge in a reasonable attempt not to break her teeth while biting into it. A glance is sent over her shoulder to the two pack-horses that she is leading, keeping a weather eye on them as well as this little convoy travels.

Listening to his story as it is relayed to the Viscount, Kaicee makes no secret of the fact she is paying attention, perhaps learning more about him then than she had in both of the times they had spoken. "It is your…" Ass.. "Backside." Lips twist in further amusement and she shales her head. "I think you will indeed be fine, Sir." Hearing Letholdus, she sits a little straighter in has saddle, the pride at her last name evident on her demeanor even if she adds nothing to what he says
.

Kylier catches the hidden meaning behind the 'I see' that comes from Letholdus. He knows what it implies. He has heard it enough in his life. "I do not know if I were to be called /good/ Your Excellency, perhaps more fortunate than others. As for testing I shall do my best, that is my word. But I seek no reward, I have been rewarded with the honor of being a Lancer and there is nothing else I seek." As Letholdus chastises him he gives Kaicee a glance "Thank you for reminding me, Your Excellency, pardon me for my, uhm, poor choice of words." When Kylier hears the approach of another horse he gives a glance back and sees that it is another Lady, he averts his eyes rather quickly, giving the prisoners a look over before squirming a bit in his saddle. Yes, this is going to be a fun ride in wet pants.

Hearing Kaicee he looks in her direction "It is indeed," a quick glance to Letholdus before returning in the general direction of Kaicee "My Lady." Yes, it was hard not to say Cat as he gets out the My Lady.

Where Letholdus is one might assume Henric isn't far behind and they'd assume correctly. The clop of a dappled grey gelding's shoes has him announced, though there's a coolness about him as he rides up on the conversation. The burnished black steel of the proud Royal Lancer upon his breast, hard to miss since the griffon was white and no longer splattered with blood and of course there had only ever been about three dozen of them at a time. An elite squad of Knights that has the Cassomir turning his attention on Kylier as he rides up, a quickness about the study before his brows perk up expectantly at Kaicee. "Problem?" he inquires of them, considerng he'd be the one to rein in Kaicee if that were the case.

Now, that is more knightly conduct towards his cousin, Kaicee. Even if Kylier were not commoner born, the Viscount expects propriety to be observed under most circumstances, especially between those who do not know each other well, or are in public mixed company, as they are now. Letholdus inclines his head politely to Lianna as she joins them, "Lady Sokar, we should arrive in Firen this eve if we press on."

To Henric, the veteran Romante speaks up, "Sir Henric, nothing is amiss." Nevermind Sir Kylier has wet his pants. It would not due to mention it and embarass the new Lancer, now would it. Perhaps later, when they know him better they'll rib him no end in playfulness, but not yet. "I should care to finish a conversation I was engaged within ere we paused, with the Lady Tarris. If you will excuse me." Letholdus gives the others a polite nod in parting, then urges his mare up towards the front of the line to lead the way. Scouts have been sent ahead to see the road is clear, and others riding the perimeter.

"How many of them did you wish to arrive alive, my lord?" Lianna wonders in a voice that is pitched rather to quiet for the viscount to overhear before he takes his leave. Exhaling a slow breath, not a sigh, Lianna eyes the line of prisoners and simply shakes her head before guiding her Roan along the line again.

As Henric rides up Kylier bows his head slightly "Sir, nothing is amiss at all. I was receiving more instructions by His Excellency is all." A glance is given to Lianna, not really meeting her eyes as he does, "Alive My Lady? I would think them all?" It is then that his brows knit together as he thinks perhaps she was just making a joke, but he is not sure. So to Henric he looks "Your squire helped me earlier with my horse and my armor, you should be commended on her training."

Henric keeps his eyes maintained on Kaicee for a moment longer, as both Letholdus and Kylier assure she was properly representing her House and his own. His eyes flash toward Lianna as the others acknowledge her, doing no more than nodding himself since she was disinterested in furthering conversation beyond the one night in the tavern - or perhaps he was. Either way, his attention reverts to Kylier when the woman rides back toward the line. "You're Sir Kylier then, I presume?" he asks, without need of introduction, "The other Lancer's mentioned your arrival." It is typical they know one another well at only three dozen, so talk travels. A nod for Kaicee, "Her Uncle should be commended. She has only been with me for a month now, since the last Tournament." His fingers adjust on the reins as he settles into the smooth gait of his gelding.

Lianna is given a warm smile as she approaches, yet as Henric is noticed just as the Viscount leaves, Kaicee offers a nod to both the Sokar and the Cassomir. "I have been staying out of trouble, Sir Henric." Though the remnants of a smile can be seen curving her lips, perhaps a touch on the impish smile. She settles in her saddle. "We will arrive in Firen by this evening, though I have no word if we will be joining the tournament circuit yet." Surprise hikes up her brows and she looks at Kylier at the compliment when he had only been doing the opposite, if jokingly. "I should see to my squirely duties, Sir Kylier."

Another dip of his head to Henric "Indeed Sir, Kylier Starn. I had already had you pointed out to me," he gives Kaicee a glance and when he looks back to Henric "She didn't mention that she was squired to her uncle, just you Sir." As Kaicee speaks about the Tournament he keeps his eyes on Henric "Have you heard if we will be joining the Tourney, Sir?" Great, more hours in wet pants, in armor, on a saddle till Firen. When Kaicee speaks of her duties he nods "She is very good at sneaking up on folks, Sir Henric. Almost," he taps his chin as if thinking "cat like." He doesn't look at Kaicee as he speaks but there is a hint of a sly smile.

Henric nods absently to the fact that he was pointed out. He was younger than Kylier, but he had already spent four years within the order of the Lancers, which does merit him higher in rank than Kylier, regardless of age. Years of service was a quasi pseudo way for them to keep order amongst themselves, talent was the other factor. "Then she does her uncle ill service by not giving credit where it is due," a brow lifted at the impish Kaicee, finding himself rolling his eyes with a half huff of air between his lips, some minor shake of his head as if exasperated by the young woman's mannerisms. It's a Knight-Squire thing. "The Tournament is not our duty," he tells them both, curtly, "If we are given leave to go, then we shall. If the Queen warrents our services now that we are no longer against Rook Keep, then we stay. She was after all, recently attacked and directly. It is better that we keep with her to ensure her safety than break lances in competition. Besides," here his voice has an air of authority to it, "With everything happening, I would not trust who faces you in the field of tourney. Sir Robar himself proved that point when he viciously kicked Duke Tarris in the face after the man was down." He will likely read disappointment on Kaicee's face, so adds, for her, "Yet, I would still like you tested in tourney, Kaicee." A smirk for the measure of her sneaking up on folks, "She's also very efficient at getting what she wants." A curl of his lips as he turns to face the road ahead.

Catching the glance, Kaicee laughs again, as he had made her do for most of the entire day yet. "What was, is hardly important now, what is now is all I need to concern myself with now. Sir Henric is a good Knight and I am learning well from him." Hearing that nickname brings a matching smile to her as well and she sneaks a look over at him. It seemed they were taking turns.. trading. whatever it was they were doing. Shots perhaps. "Perhaps you should get some looser armor." A reminder of her weight joke and she cannot contain it, but laughs, helplessly. Even with the look she gains from Henric, she cannot help it. Ohhh, but the mention of doing a disservice to her uncle surely sobers her and rather quickly. "I would never.." The vehement words are stopped cold, just there, on that topic only to continue onto the next. "I will not be competing in the tournament, I am not good enough yet." An easy shrug is given, acceptance to the combined orders and relaying of information. Only when he mentions getting what she wants does she fill in the blanks. "He did not wish to have me as a squire. He finally relented."

Once more Lianna guides her roan up along the line of prisoners, stopping where needed, mostly making sure that the prisoners are getting fresh water every chance the water barrel journeys along the line. It's not much, but at least they won't die of dehydration. That would be a fantastic conversation: ''Yes, my lord, but you see we didn't water them along the way so they died before reaching the capital and the skilled conversationalists who work for the Queen.'' With this in mind, Lianna is slow to return to the head of the column, and when she does it is to guide the ill-tempered roan so that she is nearer to Kaicee, not getting between the Romante squire and her Cassomir knight, nor the other knight that she can't immediately put name to. "If we keep this pace, and make sure they all drink enough water between now and arriving at Firen, they should all make it," she remarks as a general sharing of knowledge. Seeing as how the viscount has taken his leave to speak with his Lady Tarris, she reasons that someone in this group knows where precisely they are to deliver these prisoners.

"Indeed Sir Henric, the Queen is first and foremost, as always. I was merely wondering if there had been any word." He turns in his saddle and looks in the direction of Kaicee "Perhaps a spar then, if not a Tournament. But," he looks back to Henric "that decision is yours, Sir." His brows furrow slightly upon hearing the news of the tourney. "Not good news at all to hear things such as that, Sir." Again he turns in Kaicee's direction, still not looking directly at her "The armor was recently fitted, I doubt that it shrunk due to water being splash all over it. But I take it kindly that you are so concerned with my weight, My Lady." He bows his head in respect, maybe. "Perhaps it wasn't so much relenting but that he wanted to help you with your training." Ahh, more mention of water "Just be careful of the water, we do not want them walking in wet pants, My Lady," Kylier says to Lianna then a sly glance to Kaicee.

Henric nods at Kylier, "Yes, she is our priority," he states, watching absently the two while his eyes are seeking far out ahead. The mention of a spar has him draw back his gaze toward them, "If I am present, then yes." Certainly not a no, but sounding like a not right now. Lianna is riding back up toward them just as he's making the decision to ride up ahead, "Excuse me. The scouts have returned." And he's apparently going to take care of them while Letholdus has discussion with Lady Tarris. With a spur of his heels, he nudges the gelding forward and sets the beast into a lope to meet up with the scouts, lifting a hand in signal to them. He can be seen taking up pace with them, getting into further discussion with those up front.

When Kylier shifts in the saddle, Kaicee hears a telling squishy sound and that only brings her to laughter again. "Lady Lianna, how fortunate to see her." There is a teasing lilt in her voice, though the pleasure of seeing the lady is very real. "When we arrive in Firen, after the others are tended to, perhaps you could see to the sores of the Lancer here." Gesturing to Kylier, a brow arched in silent challenge to the Knight. The assurance about the armor is met with a mock skeptical look, If you say so.. her look seems to say. "I think.. he relented. He had a head trauma at the time and was not in his right mind when I convinced him. I wonder does he ever regret it." Giving him a thoughtful look as he rides ahead.

"The prisoners that are soaked through with sweat already, Sir," Lianna replies in a voice that is both calm and blunt. "Those that are in a condition to heed the call of nature are doing so as necessary. This little caravan is moving at this pace because it's the swiftest it can move and ensure that they all arrive in decent enough condition to have made the time and effort to set this pace worthwhile," she explains, settling the roan again at the same pace that Lady Kaicee and the unknown Knight are keeping, Lianna rests one hand lightly on the side of Faran's neck. She is quick to take a firm hand to the reins when the Roan angles his head quickly around with teeth bared, "No biting!" she admonishes the Roan with a chuckle. War horses. Ill tempered 99% of the time but a walking weapon in combat - utterly worthwhile.

This said, and the chomp avoided, Lianna aims a smile at Kaicee, "With some head trauma's, Lady Kaicee, it is difficult to discern if the patient ever fully heals," she advises with a quick shot grin aimed sidelong before she sobers slightly. "The .." well that's about as descriptive as it gets. "I see. Is it the fit of the armor or the padding, sir?" she wonders, curiously, at the Lancer. "My brother swears a blue streak every time he gets new armor. Walks around as though he's been murdered, as well, very tragic," humor - again - shading her tone of voice.

The words from Kaicee finally sink in, his eyes dart from Lady to Lady "There are no sores!" He all but shouts out, his face flushing almost instantly. "But I think that the Lady," Kylier indicates Kaicee to Lianna "might have a thorn in her paw, oh, her foot that is." Then with out looking at Lianna directly "My Lady, Sir Kylier Starn at your service." He makes the introductions himself before turning back in the saddle, trying to not make any sound while doing so. He laughs with his back to Lianna "Not exactly what I meant, My Lady. Perhaps the Lady Kaicee would like to explain as it seems she is the expert of wet pants." He shakes his head "My armor is fine and it fits like a glove. There are no sores." He then presses his lips tightly together.

It's been a good, long ride from the Principality of Kentaire, across the length of Galenthia at a brisk pace, to reach the grand city of Firen. They have been able to see it now up ahead for a while now as the well armed group with prisoners continues on. Letholdus finally turns in his saddle, having been speaking low with the Lady Claire a little ahead of the main group. He raises a fist high overhead and lifts his baritone, "We are arrived! Firen's gate ahead. I will stand you all your supper and drink, tonight!"

A cheer goes up from the scouts, the Royal Lancers, the Alicante knights and soldiers, and some others, if not the prisoners. The horses catch on the rising anticipation and pull at their bits. THe Viscount gives his mare her head and urges her to pick up a canter for the last, short distance. They will soon be within the gates and rest.

"He.. had a rather ungraceful moment when he stepped in the water bucket the horse was using and he fell over. It toppled and his pants got thoroughly wet. You see, he is still trying to lose the name bucket foot he earned." Mischief dancing in her expression, Kaicee sneaks a look at him, laughing at the reaction. "His pants.. the saddle, the ride. Surely.." Letting the healer draw her own conclusion, she ceases her talking there about that in particular. Hearing the call, she cannot help it. It comes to her suddenly, skipping over any filters and precautionary self preservation she may have. "Race you." And with that, she lets her horse just go.. just run and run for home, nudging him along, trying for a head start.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Kaicee=Horsemanship Vs Kylier=Horsemanship
< Kaicee: Great Success Kylier: Good Success
< Net Result: Kaicee wins - Solid Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Kylier=Horsemanship Vs Kaicee=Horsemanship
< Kylier: Great Success Kaicee: Good Success
< Net Result: Kylier wins - Solid Victory

Kylier turns rather quickly in his saddle when the name bucket foot comes out of her mouth but before he can reply she calls out for a race. Not one to normally take the bait, but bucket foot? No way, He leans forward and urges his horse forward. At first Kaicee gets ahead then he pulls up beside her. His cloak flies out behind him, the hooves of his war horse strike the ground and dirt clumps fly behind. No way, not bucket foot.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Kaicee=Horsemanship Vs Kylier=Horsemanship
< Kaicee: Great Success Kylier: Good Success
< Net Result: Kaicee wins - Solid Victory

Kaicee was off like a shot and as they near the gates, she turns her head to look back, seeing him much too close for her liking, as he moves up beside her. She nudges her horse, holding on with her knees, riding with each movement, one with the horse, laughing in glorious delight as her red hair streams out behind her.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Kylier=Horsemanship Vs Kaicee=Horsemanship
< Kylier: Good Success Kaicee: Good Success
< Net Result: Kaicee wins - Marginal Victory

Side by side they are, but a war horse is made for steadiness, not racing. Kaicee gains on him, Kylier leans down lower, trying to be easy in the saddle. The gates come up fast, closer and closer they come. Still Kaicee leads, but his horse is carrying so much weight, not to mention the wet pants. At last the gates are cleared, Kaicee in the lead but Kylier right on her tail. That is till a cart suddenly appears in the road, crossing over. "Oh, OH!" comes from Kylier as he has no time to turn, a leap, bits of melon are collected and go flying from the hooves of his horse as they clear the majority of the wagon. Landing, Kylier pulls up his horse in a near skid, turning to make sure that no one was injured.

Sure she is going to lose, Kaicee rides hard, barely missing the cart when it comes, and she pulls back on the reins as just inside the gate is the pub. Hurriedly, she turns in her saddle to see if he had avoided it only to see him skid to a stop. It is not amusement in her eyes, it is concern, though she smiles when she sees no one was injured. That being established, she grins. "Last one in has to buy the other a drink!"

Galenthia - Firen - The Firebrand Inn

The Firebrand Inn is one of the more popular places within Firen with a constant flow of patrons looking for a room or just coming in for a tankard of ale or a bowl of stew. A fire burns merrily in the fireplace on all but the warmest of days, lending a cheery glow as well as the warmth and homeyness that is appreciated by all.
Tables are evenly spaced, allowing for the serving wenches to move about the room easily, and almost always occupied as are the tall stools that sit before the finely-polished bar. Sounds of laughter and conversation rings though the air, lending a festiveness to the atmosphere, and music can also be heard as bards and entertainers often perform, enticing the patrons to join in.
From the main room one will find a staircase that leads to the rooms upstairs and a door behind the bar that leads towards the kitchen.


Tristan enters the common room of Firebrand Inn from the stairs to the second floor, wearing clothing that is more earthy and travel-worn than his usual attire. Having only returned to the city a short time ago, his first stop was this very establishment to take in a bath and get a change of clothes. There was this overwhelming desire to get some the dirt and grime of time spent on the road off and just be clean before finally making his way to the palace.

Stepping over to an empty table, he sits down hard on a chair with a grunt, and waves over a serving girl to order a bottle of wine with no glasses. Maybe he will wait a night before going to the palace, a night where he can get good and drunk and get a few things out of his mind.

Sir Letholdus Romante, Viscount of Alicante, arrives with his party. Travel weary and dusty, the Templar is yet kitted out in his mail and breastplate and the colors of his House rather than wearing his Templar's surcoat. His combined armies have been left behind in the command of others, presumably to return home. First order of business upon coming into the city was to see to the prisoners, escorted directly to the castle. Accommodations are arranged for his people and rather than going directly to his rooms at the palace, Letholdus returns to the city, to this inn. For he promised to buy his people supper and rounds to drink to celebrate their small victory. There will be time for much needed bathing and changing of clothes later.

Therefor, Dus opens and holds the door for the Lady Claire to enter before him. His dark eyes scan the interior of the public house and seek a suitable table where they may await the arrival of the others. There the Romante will draw out a chair for Claire as the two Royal Lancers and a few other assorted knights file in.

While the travel has been great, Lady Claire Tarris had taken the chance to at least freshen up - if not change outright. There would be the entire matter of finding suitable attire since her abduction that is permissible for Court and all related. For now, she's in both clean gown and properly touched up hair, settled atop her head with a silver comb keeping the dark mass in place. Stepping ahead of Letholdus, there's a smile of thanks before taking a full look throughout the establishment. To say she's never been here before, would be aptly.. correct. "The others are coming?" The group that they had been traveling, with of course.

Tristan spots a pair of familiar faces entering, and with a sigh, gestures for the serving girl to bring glasses and another bottle. Standing up from his chair, he gestures to Letholdus, and then points to the empty chairs at his table. It has been some time since he last saw his cousin, and he idly wonders if the man will recognize him in something other than his best court clothing. "Cousin, Lady Claire, please join me. I can have ale or something brought out for your men if that is what they want." He will wait to take a seat after Claire has seated herself. Manners and all that.

"Ah, Tristan." Letholdus looks to Claire, "They will be joining us, those that wish to, yes. Have you met my cousin? This is Lord Tristan Romante,and it appears you know the Lady Claire Tarris." Dus will pull out one of these chairs for Claire instead, accepting Tristan's invitation. "Ale will be fine. What would you care for, my lady?" For all that he tends to favour good Galenthian wines, the Viscount is also a knight who drinks with his men. He takes his own seat, "We have been up at Rook Keep up in the Principality of Kentaire with a little business. What have you been up to lately, cousin? What brings you to Firen?"

"Lord Tristan and I have met briefly in Four Corners," Claire supplies in expectation of the unasked questions which may arise as they arrive at the table with its empty chairs. Looking over one shoulder to Letholdus in silent thanks before turning her attention and a small smile to Tristan then back to Dus, "I think that I will leave the choice to you, my lord. Surely, there have to some wines familiar to this region that you think highly of?" She's not unfamiliar to the ales, not even batting an eye at the intention of drinking. It's to be expected. To the Cousin Romante, she asks curiously, "Have you been well since we last met?"

Nodding to Dus, Tristan waves over a sever and tells her to get the orders of the lancers. Pointing to the three glasses and hefting his bottle, "Is wine alright?" Not even waiting for an answer, he pours them each a glass starting with Claire, offering her a soft smile. "Yes, we did indeed run into one another in Four Corners, though our first meeting I think she caught me with one of my entertainments." Sitting down once again, he leans back in his chair, squinting when Letholdus mentions Kentaire, his eyes sharp. "These bastards think themselves crafty, but they are rather foolish."

There is a pause before Tristan decides to speak once again. "I left Four Corners after the last tournament. The party I was in stopped to aid some peasants that had been set upon by some bandits. I found some oddities and sent a bird to the Queen letting her know I was making my way here with all due haste to report it to her. It seems something decided to work against me. I was taken by surprise by bandits, a small party of Duke Tarris' people as well, including his daughter. We were made guests by some Lady Melissa and her people in Haron Keep, that is until the Duke smashed his way in with an army. I have since spent my time trying not to have my head blown off by His Grace."

Tristan shakes his head and swirls his wine around for a moment before taking a sip that sees him down the entire glass at once. "Cousin, things are not well. Not well at all."

Kaicee slaps her reins around a hitching post before heading inside.. If there is a somber mood in the Inn, it is not one currently shared by the Lancer and the Squire.. for they are both hurrying in, the door flying open and banging lightly against the wall it hits. Boots hit the floor and Kaicee, just ahead of Kylier, does not try and close it on him. Instead, she hurriedly scans the room and upon seeing Letholdus and the Lady Claire, she runs to the table and slides into a chair so quickly it slides on all four legs a short distance before tipping precariously on two legs. A squeak is given before she rights herself and a hand flies over her mouth at the noise emitted from her even though her eyes are dancing with merriment. Lowering her hand, she calls out to the nearest server who happens to be wearing a bemused look. "Ale, please?" Then she turns to look at the others present and she smiles sheepishly. "Your Excellency, My Lady." Then a surprise. "Tristan!" Her other cousin. "Well hello." Only then does she look back with a smug smile, waiting for Kylier to join.

Letholdus listens to Tristan and can't help but share a look with Claire at news of Tristan trying not to have his head blown off by Claire's brother, Gauvain. The Viscount looks amused, "What? The Betrayer Duke didn't take a fine shine to you right off, cousin? Surely you impressed him with your smooth, courtly manners and ways with the women." Yes, a bit of good humored sarcasm has crept into Dus's baritone, trying not to laugh. He downs a good portion of his wine as well, not fearing that Tristan of all people would try to poison him. One never knows though, among Romantes.

Unfortunately, Letholdus's good humor doesn't last. "The Lady Claire Tarris was taken captive by 'bandits' herself, and held hostage at Rook Keep. Over the northern border in Kentaire. With the Lady Raelyn lending Ironhold forces, I lead them combined with a measure of my own from Alicante. We battled a Sir Darnes, left in charge by Sir Robar, and took the Keep. Beware, Tristan. Thorn Loyalists are a foot once more." The details of which Dus will not speak here, in an inn. As it is, he keeps his baritone low.

The two Lancers and the Alicante knights taking seats at the other table stay near, should the three need any protection. They are pleased to have ale ordered for them, though they won't drink too heavily.

Trying to get into the door before Kaicee as well paying the fellow who's cart he hardly cleared and ruined some of the melons is not a winning combination. "Yes, yes, they where very good melons, I am sure," and a few more coin is exchanged. But Kaicee has beaten him twice now, once in the race and then into the Inn. A sigh escapes him, Loosing the race and then loosing getting into the Inn is not a good way to save up his coin. Kylier shakes his head, makes his way on in as he straightens his cloak about his shoulders. As Kaicee greets the others, Kylier pulls out a chair and sits, back straight "Ale and I guess I am paying,"

While Dus had not mentioned what sort of business in Kentaire, it meant that Claire wasn't about to divulge the details until he gave what amounted to the all clear. And he did, after sharing the glance with regards to her brother, her lips remain mildly quirked upwards until the explanation begins in earnest. "Well, I knew exactly where you were. My brother sent a brief note, but no details. I can be sure that you left a good impression on him," she notes from behind the rim of the glass as she takes a sampling sip for taste before a second, longer sip because it may be needed with the topic at hand.

That is, until Kaicee skids? Yes, skids to their table - chair and all. The glass? Still held so that her lips barely touch the rim, but her eyes do light up with suppressed mirth as Claire inclines her head to the squire. Lady Romante," she murmurs, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice."

Tristan offers Dus a rather bemused expression. "If you must know cousin, his daughter decided it would be a good idea to start kissing me right in front of him. Not that I am against her deciding to do that, but in front of the Duke?" Sighing, he reaches for the bottle to pour himself another glass, pleased with the way that the previous glass is giving him a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes shift to Claire for a moment to gauge her reaction to this explanation, and he offers an abashed grin as something of a contrition. His expression sobers and he nods to his cousin. "Yes, there are names I can name as well, but you are right. These things can be discussed with the Queen."

He glances up as Kaicee and Kylier enter, and he offers them both a smile, though Kaicee's own entrance has his eyes shining with amusement. "Kaicee, so good to see you, I hope things are going well for you. As to your companion here…" He gestures to Kylier, "He can order an ale and I will add it to my tab, you as well."

Letholdus is momentarily distracted by someone colliding with their table and settling hard enough into a chair that it is skidded and nearly tipped over! At once the Templar has set his right hand to his hilt of his blade, tensing to jump up and deal with the attack when he realizes it is only Kaicee. Dus relaxes then, lifting a dark brow at her antics, "What /are/ you up to, young lady Romante?" Yes, just like a stuffy older brother. Up until Tristan speaks of getting caught kissing Bethany.

It's a moment of knocking back the rest of his wine - in which Letholdus almost chokes on it! He manages to swallow it with a gasp and then laugh! "You kissed her, right as her father walked in?!" Oh my. Dus doesn't hardly have a chance to even see what Claire's reaction to that might be. Dus gives another laugh, "You are lucky the Duke didn't have you strung up and gelded on the spot, cousin. I can imagine he was livid." Wouldn't that be hilarious if both Claire and Bethany married Romantes though? Haha, Gauvain would just love that. Probably not as much as much as he'd love a Sokar as a Son-in-Law.

Hahah, Letholdus manages to reach over and pour himself a second glass of the wine. "I wish I had seen the look on his face."

Arriving somewhat after the main part of the Viscount's party arrives, Lianna carefully hitches the reins of her roan to the hitching pole the furthest from the rest of the horses already in place. Both of the pack horses are already stabled and the contents of those packs secured before she ventures to the inn.

Settled down now in her chair, the ale ordered, Kaicee grins when Kylier finally walks up. "Took you long enough, Bucket." Shortening his name for him, his nickname she had dubbed him anyway. "He wanted to buy some melons just to help out the merchant before he came in. Rather insisted on it too. Is that not gallant?"

Sneaking a look at the Lancer, Kaicee wears her amusement rather openly both by the look in her eyes and the curve of her lips. Hearing her name from Clair, she tries to sober the look but it fails. Still, with respect, she greets her. "My lady, it is a pleasure seeing you again, safe and sound." Brushing back her hair from her face, from the ride it is tousled in disarray, she grins in return to Tristan. "Things are well, we only just got back in and I still have to care for the horses, both mine and Sir Henric's, I wanted to get some drinks first before doing so." Brows lift at his generosity. "Thank you, Tristan." Quite a generous cousin indeed.

Tipping her head back, Kaicee smiles at the Viscount, her other cousin. "I was .. we were competing. I won." The last said proudly. "Twice. Well, three if you consider what he tells is the truth on me sneaking up on him."

Claire, it seems, is very quietly amused by the entire explanation. Bright eyed and trying to keep her shoulders from shaking too much, the shaking of the table may conceal some of the mirth she she looks between Kaicee and Kylier with a glance over one shoulder to the Templar who goes from tense in preparation of conflict to laughter. But it's to the squire to whom she dips her head in acknowledgment, giving up the pretense of at least being proper and prim. It simply won't do in the present. "Thank you. I think that it's quite well to see some fun and mischief being had. Speaking of…" Oh, Tristan. She hasn't forgotten about you.

"You, have nothing to worry about. If my niece kissed you, I take that as a good sign," Claire notes with a sidelong glance at Letholdus. "And, my brother probably has not had enough time to mull everything over." Ah. The implications.

"Your Excellency, My Lord," Kylier greets the two men and then to Claire he doesn't quite meet her eyes "My Lady," he greets before sitting. While not exactly poor, he does have limited coin but when the Lord offers to pay he just smiles "I thank you for the offer, My Lord. But a bet is a bet. Lady Kaicee beat me twice, I must settle my debts." There is no pain in admitting he lost, it was a fair race, both of them. When he mentions Kaicee he looks her way but does not meet her eyes. "Bucket," he mutters. "Yes, very expensive melons, though I still don't know how you missed them." He spots Lianna entering and moves to allow her to sit as well "Please join us, My Lady."

"Noooooo." Tristan shakes his head vehemently while saying the word. "He came bursting through the door to the rooms where we were being held, started shouting for his daughter. She made a few sarcastic comments towards him while I was on my best behavior, and then she stepped over to me and kissed me. What was I supposed to do? Push her away? I just let it happen. I think he just forgot all about it when she went and hugged him and I tried to stay clear of him from there on out."

Tristan takes a sip of his wine, considering it all for a few moments and then adds, "Besides, I really did hold back. No ton…" He pauses here, and blinks. Oh yes, probably should watch what he's saying given that Claire is sitting right there. He gives her a smile when it seems like she isn't put out by it all. He now sits back and enjoys his wine as he listens to the banter between Kaicee and Kylier, amused by the two going back and forth. Idly, his free hand reaches into a pocket where he pulls out a black and purple cloth with blue embroidery and begins to caress it, seemingly focused on it to the point that he doesn't catch Lianna's entrance.

Pausing long enough to pick up a drink for herself and lingers long enough to inquire as to what might possibly be available from the kitchen, Lianna makes a reasonable request and turns to scan the room after doing so. To be fair, it's easy to spot the viscount, his lady Claire, then around to spotting Lady Kaicee, the Lancer that she almost met on the road, and spots Lord Tristan as well. The laughter she hears from the table causes some of the visible tension she carries to ease somewhat, only turning back toward the bar when the server behind the counter returns with the plate of food she'd ordered. Carrying both with her to the table she angles a cordial nod to all those at the table. "My lord," she offers a greeting, "Lady Claire, Lady Kaicee, Lord Tristan," greeting in turn, "Sir," she still doesn't have a name to place to the lancer. As the lancer moves to allow her to take a seat she smiles, "Thank you," and takes the available seat, setting the drink and the plate
of food on the table once she settles in position.

Sir." Spoken in response to Kylier's greeting, Claire makes an attempt to suitably mute her apparent good nature at Tristan's expense. And quite likely fails as not one but both brows rise, gaze settling on the niece smooched Romante - the correct designation given so many in one room. "I see we should speak later, Lord Tristan." It may have a hint of mock foreboding, but surely Letholdus beside her can easily translate. If, it should come to that. The Lady Sokar's arrival is met with what might be surprising from a lady of Tarris blood. "Lady Lianna. Good of you to join us. Have you properly settled in?"

"Sir." Spoken in response to Kylier's greeting, Claire makes an attempt to suitably mute her apparent good nature at Tristan's expense. And quite likely fails as not one but both brows rise, gaze settling on the niece smooched Romante - the correct designation given so many in one room. "I see we should speak later, Lord Tristan." It may have a hint of mock foreboding, but surely Letholdus beside her can easily translate. If, it should come to that. The Lady Sokar's arrival is met with what might be surprising from a lady of Tarris blood. "Lady Lianna. Good of you to join us. Have you properly settled in?"

"Oh me too, my Lady. And Kylier was such an easy target." Lips twitch as Kaicee turns to look at his reaction, but she presses them together too tightly so that she will not laugh. Well, her intentions were good until Bucket mentions the melons again. "I do hope he allowed you to keep the ones you purchased." Even she does not know how she avoided the cart, but is grateful she did. "I feel guilty, for challenging you to the race and then that happening…" Hearing her name, she looks up and smiles widely to the Sokar lady. Even going so far as to scoot her chair over to make room for her right beside Tristan. "Lady Lianna, so glad you are here."

"Missed your chance then, Tristan." Letholdus tells him when he admits trying nothing. THAT coming from the Templar! Letholdus is clearly amused and sips his wine, glancing aside to watch Claire. Ah, it is good to unwind, to drink among friendly company. Dus does notice the House colors on the cloth that Tristan draws forth. He lifts a dark brow at his cousin but does not say a word.

"Lady Sokar, thank you for all of your assistance with our wounded, as well as with the comfort and health of our prisoners. It is much appreciated." Letholdus tastes his second cup of wine, then looks around the table, "Do you know my cousin, Lord Tristan Romante? This is the Lady Lianna Sokar, a healer who accompanied us north to Rook Keep." All of them know Kaicee, but the Viscount adds, "And this is Sir Kylier, newly admitted to the ranks of the Royal Lancers." The Templar didn't catch Kylier's surname before.

Glancing up, Tristan nods at Dus. "Yes, I am acquainted with Lady Sokar." Turning to face Lianna he offers her a smile. "It has been a while since we last spoke in Four Corners, it is good to see you well, though I see you have cut your hair. It looks lovely." His hand is still playing with the black and purple cloth as other introductions are made, even going so far to put down his wine glass and hold it in both hands. Idly he responds to Claire with a nod, "Of course, Lady Claire, I am free whenever you wish."

"I have, thank you, Lady Claire," Lianna replies, aiming a smile across the table at the Tarris noblewoman, withdrawing a napkin from one of her pockets and sets it neatly over her lap. She may no longer wear gowns and complicated hair styles, but she still has manners. "Finding a good place to stable my pack horses and a stable hand smart enough not to get bitten by my roan is actually more difficult than it sounds, the latter that is," she admits with a quick shot of a grin across the table. "Good to be here, Lady Kaicee, especially on my own two feet," she clarifies with the same smile aimed at Kaicee. Another nod is aimed across the table, this time at the viscount, "I'm glad to have been of service, my lord. We may not be able to muster a significant fighting force when you needed it, my lord, but if our help was at all useful, then I'm glad to have been useful." She aims a glance over at Lord Tristan and nods subtly, shifts her attention sidelong toward the Lancer, now having name to put to face, "Sir Kylier, well met," she offers before glancing back toward Tristan and offers a wry sort of smile. "Thank you, Lord Tristan," she replies with another small nod.

Kylier's jaw tightens ever so slightly as called an easy target. He has been corrected once, he will not raise to the bait. Well not here anyway. "I think the one's I purchased," he says avoiding her other topic "are scattered through the gate." He can't help but smile, now that it's over and no one was hurt. As Dus makes the introductions, Kylier nods to each, "Starn, I mean, that's my surname." He takes up his ale and drinks from it. He turns to Lianna "It is good to meet you as well, My Lady." He's got that look, surrounded by Lords and Ladies and such, not his usual crowd by any means.

Letholdus has, for the moment, fallen quiet. He eyes the Al'Sylenthar colored cloth that Tristan keeps in hand and to which his raising a dark brow got no explanation from his cousin. The Viscount drinks his wine, settling in to listen to the others rather than hold their attention himself. He makes mental note of Sir Kylier's surname. Ha, Kylier better get used to it - Royal Lancers work to guard members of the Royal House of Galenthia, and Romantes keep all sorts of noble company. Tired, Letholdus allows his own gaze to wander around the table slowly, and eventually he finds himself watching Claire.

Tristan glances up to his cousin, his eyes catching his expression, and his face goes slightly pale and he glances back down to the cloth in his hands before glancing up and offering a shrug. "It seems that you recognize it, cousin. I…" He pauses, his brain trying to come up with some way to explain it away or something. How to best explain this? This hard path that he seems to have found himself walking down. "It was given to me." The words come out of his mouth a little lamely, and for once it seems that Tristan Romante is at a loss for words.

Claire is contented enough to have her glass filled for a second time, letting the remark of speaking soon with Tristan fade for addressing at another time. The cloth might bear remarking, but not now. That's even if her eyes take note of the colored cloth, shifting her attention in favor of the conversation among Kylier, Kaicee and Lianna. "That is good to hear, Lady Lianna. I have not yet forgotten we should compare healing techniques, whenever the time allows. Of which, I have no idea when." Busy is likely to begin now, glancing sideways at Letholdus out of growing habit over the recent days. But when the men start to speak, she discreetly adopts more attention in the other direction.

What? Tristan at a loss for words? Letholdus hadn't even asked about the item out loud, "A lady's favour?" By his expression, he is curious though considering -that- house, it may not be a good thing to his mind. Yes, Dus /would/ like for his cousin to explain but this may not be the time and place. Therefor Dus makes a dismissive gesture to let Tristan off of the hook in their mixed company.

"Sir Starn," Lianna corrects herself with a measured nod, committing name to face accordingly, "and thank you," she adds, recognizing the look upon his face but is distracted by Claire's words. "If there's time over the next span of days, Lady Claire, I'd be happy to. I intend to make sure that the last of the wounded that were brought with us are well on their way to being mended before rejoining my brother on the tournament circuit." She reaches for her drink, taking a measured drink of the contents before setting it aside once more. A brief, sidelong, glance is aimed curiously at Tristan but she has a meal to try to see to before it gets to much colder.

"As much as I like riding, I have to agree. It is good to be on my own two feet." Agreeing to Lianna's statement. The ale is delivered, mmm, Kaicee takes her own and lifts it in silent salute to the purchaser, one Kylier 'Bucket' Sharn. "Thank you." Then she tips it back, but only manages to take one swallow. Flinching at the strong taste, perhaps this is a game the Lancer could beat her at. She crinkles her nose, "At least it was not as bad as what Sir Henric had in his flask." That had burned. All. The. Way. Down. She crinkles her nose and peers at what the Lady Claire may be drinking. Surely something better than this! "After I drink this, I need to go tend to the horses."

Tristan nods to Dus, "It is a lady's favour, yes." The words a confirmation as well as a jump start to his brain to perhaps not dwell on such things in such a public venue, after all that's how rumors get started. Carefully, almost tenderly, he folds it up and places it back into his pocket, taking his wine in hand again and glancing around the table, offering a smile to all as if nothing just happened at all. "So, who is going to the next tournament?"

A squire enters the Inn and takes a moment to look around. He spots Kylier and hurries over to him. Before whispering in his ear he bows to everyone. Clearly a commoner as well. Kylier pushes his half drunk ale to the fore before he stands "If you would excuse me, there is a matter I should attend to." To Letholdus he does add "Sir, I shall be at your call should I be needed." The words from Tristan about a tournament does give him pause, momentarily. He then turns to each and bids his farewell but to the ladies he never really looks them in the eye. Shyness more than likely. He really doesn't wait to hear their words and looking rather relieved perhaps to be escaping the room full of rocking chairs with his tail intact, he begins to make his way from the room.

Exactly what Anjin Tekar has been doing since the ride from the exciting siege at the Keep… is not keeping an eye on Letholdus. There was even a bit of gossip along the way that he spent the whole time sulking, let alone rumors that he and Raelyn Cassomir had a falling out of sorts, though no one seems to have their story straight with their neighbors.

So when it was that the party reached Firen, he… saw his belongings seen to, even more silent and withdrawn than before, though with a gleam to his blue eye that did not invite questions. In other words, he spent the whole ride almost scowling at the three tomes he had brought with him.

It may then be a surprise to some that Anjin darkens the inn's doorway, carrying saddlebags over his shoulder, considering how anti-social he was the entire way back, relatively speaking.

Letholdus gives Kylier a nod as the newly minted Lancer takes his leave, "Good night." He gives Kaicee a look for her playfulness, before he catches Tristan's look. Aye, he won't press, not here. "I may go, and Sir Henric intends to. He has a fair shot at the Championship." Dus may as well himself, but he adds low, "I will wait and see what the Queen thinks best for me to do with my time ere I decide. But I hope to go. There are … certain individuals who may be in attendance I should like to .. keep an eye on." And perhaps even arrange bad things for in dark allies. Dus drinks the last of his second glass of wine, then glances around at Claire and the others.

"If you will excuse me, I should also depart. I am filthy and wish to rest. I will pay the barman on my way out that you all may enjoy a few rounds of drinks, and your supper or breakfasts, on me. I bid you enjoy yourselves, and a good night." To Claire he offers his arm, "Shall I escort you to the palace, my lady?" She looks tired to him and ready to retire, if he's any judge of her quietness.

Lianna bids a good night to first Sir Starn then to the viscount and his Lady Claire, half the table departing all at once. Lianna, now that she has this side of the table to herself, simply angles her chair slightly and waves down one of the serving staff. "Another drink please," she asks politely, getting a nod in return as the busy server hurries through the room. Lianna spots Anjin as he enters the Inn, a surprised look forms on her face (briefly) to see the normally recaltrient if not entirely silent to the point of being struck mute Tekar knight enters the Inn. A place that, by it's very nature, not only encourages social interaction but does so at full volume!

Tristan finishes off his current glass of wine, and then rises. "Kaicee, it was a delight seeing you again. I hope we can meet again soon." He offers her a smile before he shifts his attention to Lianna. "Lady Sokar, it was a pleasure seeing you again. We should also meet again soon, but perhaps with your brother or cousin as well, and think on better days enjoying the comforts of Four Corners, yes? As to me, I think I need to go sleep, a good long nap will do me some good." This last is sort of said to himself before he once again wishes both women farewell and then heads towards the stairs and the room he took up above.

When Bucket leaves, Kaicee bids him farewell and when the Viscount does as well, she smiles, especially at the look, though forlornly she looks down into the mug with disapproval. Only at the question from her distant cousin does Kaicee look up again. "Depends on the orders. I want to go, though not sure if I will be allowed. It depends on what Sir Henric's orders if we stay here or go on. Are you going, Tristan?"

And then there is Anjin and she lifts a hand in silent greetings, not verbally greeting the silent man. Finally, with a burst of bravery and a held breath, she downs the remainder of the ale. "Whew!" she exclaims, and then Tristan is leaving. She looks around the table, Anjin and Lianna and she grins. "Want me to go?"

Exactly what Anjin is doing here, he obviously does not feel up to saying verbally to those he recognizes. This isn't to say he doesn't /talk/, but it does appear he's going to hire a room of all things. It's an inn, people do that, and so does Tekar. His conversation, predictably, is brief, and there is an exchange of coin before he vanishes for the space of several minutes. He'll return, absent the saddlebags, and before he's so much as decided what to do next, he has a small bit of wine as well. Cheap wine, as it happens.

Lianna angles a curious look at Kaicee, "Why would I want you to go?" she wonders, surprise in her tone of voice. "I won't keep you, not that I could of course, but I certainly don't fancy an empty table. But I do understand if you've other things to attend to."

Missed it's mark, the tease did and Kaicee smiles. "I have to go tend to Sir Henric's horse and my own if I am to get any sleep tonight. The duties of a squire are never ending." The drink had cost her nothing due to her bet, she rises and bows her head to Lianna. "My lady, I will see you again soon." Another nod is given Anjin before she departs.

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