Nar 24, 229: GiantSlayer

Summary: Nerissa has a hard time believing Brennart's tale.
OOC Date: July 27, 2014
Related: None
Brennart Nerissa 
Infirmary Darfield Castle
The rectangular room has whitewashed walls and a stone floor bare of carpet and rushes. The air smells of vinegar, soap and strong herbs. On a far fall is a line of windows that look outside of the castle. Each of the windows has a widow box filled with fresh herbs and flowers. Along the wall opposite of the windows are about twenty beds in a row. The beds are narrow and simply made of sturdy oak and rope. Each bed has a fresh canvas, straw stuffed mattress covered with heavy unbleached and dyed linen sheets, a pillow, and a blue wool blanket. Next to each bed is a small square table and a stool. One each of the narrow walls are doors leading to other rooms. One leads to the hallway, which in turn leads to the main part of the castle. Across from the main entry are two doors. One leads to the apothecary and still room, and the other leads to the Royal Physician's office.
Nar 24, 229

The lady's hair is bound properly at the nape of her neck, the red tamed to a mostly smooth chignon even after sitting in a chair for a few hours. She straightens from the chair, giving a surreptitious rub to her derriere, after having sat on the hard surface for so long. The occupant of the bed, a blonde, is now sleeping, and Nerissa cranes her neck to stretch it, wincing and rubbing along her collar bone. The edge of a gash and some stitches can be seen along the edge of her gown's neckline, the rest of the wound disappearing under the fabric.

Brennart having finished briefing everybody he needed to he heads into the infirmary and waving one of the healers over, "Sorry to bother you just got back in from the front and have an injury I'd like you to look at if possible…" He motions towards the field bandages on his arm, "I know it's not pretty but it's better than packing it with dirt… Which I may or may not have done."

Brennart is recognized as she nears the door, and Nerissa debates speaking as he holds his arm out. "I thought it was standard practice to clean dirt /out/ of wound, not pack it into it," she observes drily, overhearing the man. Her eyes glance down to the bandages, and regardless of how gross the mud and possible seepage might be, she doesn't pale or turn green at the sight.

Brennart nods as he lets the healer unwrap it, "It's also not good to bleed out on the battlefield and dirt seems to stop the bleeding can wash it out later." The wound is unwrapped and it's not terribly dirty but does look pretty burnt up around the edges of a good gash along his arm… Spotting the confusion on the healer's face Brenn shrugs, "Flaming sword what can I say?"

Despite herself, Nerissa's curiosity wins out as she leans forward a little. "Flaming? Wouldn't flames burn the wound closed?" she asks. "I saw Ranger Theron do that once for a cut on one of the scouts. Heated a knife in the fire, then put the flat against the skin so that it would stop bleeding." Her hands are clasped behind her back as she looks at the wound, then the healer.

Brennart nods, "The wound didn't bleed much the dirt that's in there was mostly from the battle rather than me packing this one full of dirt. Bandage was just tossed on to keep it cleanish afterwards." The healer hmms and haws as he looks it over and shrugs.
"The best we can do for you m'lord is to stitch the edges up give you some potions for the pain of the burn and then hope it heals well…"

"A good bath after battle might be helpful," Nerissa considers, then shrugs once as the healer makes his reccommendation. Her curiosity over the wound is waning. "So how did they get the sword to burn, I wonder? Dip it in some sort of pitch? Although I would think that would dull the blade. Oil would burn off pretty quickly, so it wouldn't be a flaming sword for long…" She isn't actually talking to the men, now. In fact, she's starting to turn away in her musings as if she holds little hope for the man having the answer. After a short silence, she continues out loud to herself, "but then, if it bites into flesh, even with the pitch, it would dampen the flames fuel, so it wouldn't stay alight for very long that way, either… hm."

Brennart shakes his head, "I do believe it was a magical flaming sword. It was being wielded by a giant after all…" And then the pause for the you've got to be teasing me looks, "Happened when Cri went dark just as the battle was getting ready to start a pair of giants wielding flaming swords materialized we had to join forces to fight them off otherwise both armies would have been slaughtered."

Nerissa stops and turns. "A giant," she repeats. Her eyes narrow as she studies the man. "How gullible do you think I am?"

Brennart shakes his head, "I don't. Do you honestly think I'd make up that tale? Let alone tell it to the King? It'd be my head if I made something like that up. I'm sure the official word will come out before long I just brought word back from the front."

"You're a man," is Nerissa's quick retort. "Who knows what you could make up. Since I wasn't there, I have no idea what you told the King." She lifts one shoulder and her chin as turns again. "I don't have to time to bandy about stories as I have to go to the ship and make sure the stallion's wound dressings have been changed before Assana awakes."

Brennart shrugs, "As you will… Just remember your lack of trust when the official word is released about what happened at the front. But if you've got an agitated and injured horse by all means tend to it before it wakes up. I know how bad it can get with some of the ranches down Sutherlands."

Nerissa rolls her eyes. "Lady Assana, Honorable Lord, Baron Huntingdon, is my sister, not a stallion. She was kicked by the stallion just before Cri darkened the sun. He wanted to run and broke half the hold and himself trying to get out." As for the trust, she gives a quick exhale and a slight shake of her head. "Official word or not, doesn't make you any more trustworthy than any other man."

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