Thedor 32, 229: The Hunt

The Hunt
Summary: Count Aldren organizes a hunt. The day's end sees three men bloodied and three boars dead.
OOC Date: February 1, 2014
Related: None
Aldren Robben Trevian Renden Ronan Roslin Kierne 

With later appearances by:

Faerinia Cian Eliylw 
Forests of Darfield
Trees n' such.
Thedor 32, 229

A rather large hunting party is making its way from the castle now as evening sets in. Finding themselves under the cover of trees marching down a long path that will eventually spill out into an open expanse bearing a rather large pond. There are all manner of knights on horses and ladies as well. Most wit ha hawk, some with falcons and Peregrins. Bows are had by some as well and many a man carries a spear. The woman folk do seem to sick together conversing quietly and giggling while the men folk share stories of war and women conquered rather loudly. Not so much a traditional tracking hunt but more a festivity in ways. Surely some split off to attempt more stealthy forms for rabbit and squirel as well. Sheat is setting down over the snow covered Landscape and Theodor can be seen hanging in the distance, an odd misshapen rock in the sky.

Trevian with bow and blade both seemed ready for the hunt. He wasn't with his horse in typical ranger fashion. Rather, he would walk the distance and walk back as he was most comfortable with. He brings only what he can carry, pipe already smoking with the famous Sky Herb. He is in his winter cloak made from white-fox tails- the perfect way to hide in a snowy forest. "So, what quarry are we after today?"

He wasn't sure that he wanted to go out here, but after a conversation with his wife, Robben made his way to join the hunting party. Having both his blade and a spear with him, the Ruxton heir looks around a bit carefully now. He's keeping quiet, like he tends to be very often, but otherwise enjoying himself, it would seem.

Renden is in the saddle, swaying back and forth, with a bow and quiver strung across his back. He would normally be on foot, but currently it was a choice to keep up with the others that saw him in the saddle. It's not that he didn't enjoy it, but, he didn't anticipate hunting well from in the saddle. Horses after all were loud enough to chase away anything decent. Still, he was watching for opportunities to split off with a group should that arise. Otherwise, he's fairly quiet himself, stealing a moment to drink from a flask.

Aldren is trodding along slowly. His bow horizontal across his chargers back and an elbow holding it there as his hand loosely grips the reigns. The other hand tilting a flask up to his mouth. After a deep drink he says, "Trade ya?" motioning to the Forrester mans pipe while holding out the drink. "And let good Lord Robben taste it as well." He nods to the man in question and then answers, "Eh. Whatever you see. There are men east flushing for boar. I will be content with rabbit if seen. But its growing dark and I am quite drunk." He laughs now as he looks ahead.
/WHO WHO/. Is now heard and the Count quickly draws his bow to the sound. "Oh." He says as he spies the owl. He seems to give up until a little movement catches his sight and he adjusts, quickly firing at the hare in the brush off to the side.

Trevian chuckles quietly as he trades the pipe for the skin taking a deep draught before he passes the skin on to Lord Robben as Aldren has requested. "Is that right? Boars can be quite the dangerous quarry." he says with a grin, "Makes it a bit more entertaining, the danger." he continues. "Really, that's one of the better parts of the hunt. The man versus nature bit."

Ronan has indeed come out and trails a bit behind the others. He is mounted on his grey stallion and carries a long spear for hunting. Kierne trails a bit behind him carrying spar spears for his lord. The Duke is content to let others go ahead to seek the game but once boar or stag should be found, he's ready in the saddle to give proper chase. There's no worry about making noise and spooking game if you are sending out beaters anyway, to drive the game. It looks like Aldren's too drunk to be stealthy anyway, up there in the front.
The Rioga Sutherlander turns his head to watch Roslin, to see that she is in good spirits and comfortable. His horse's breath steams the chilly air as they walk at a leisurely pace.

The Princess Roslin Kilgour does in fact seem in good spirits as she rides beside her betrothed. There are a few Kilgour guards spaced about, but they stay out of the way mostly in such a large group of trusted nobles and gentlemen. She looks every bit the royal in a large black velvet riding skirt with a Navy blue cloak draped around her horse's haunches with it's length. She wears a matching black hat upon her crown of red braids with a large feathered plume - it is a hunting party, after all! Her hands are covered by fine, expensive, black gloves. Her maids ride nearby. When Ronan turns to look at her? She offers the man a warm smile.
"We're coming up on the party," Roslin notes conversationally. "What game do you hope to take today, Your Grace?"

Robben is just listening to what's being said now, keeping quiet as he studies the surroundings a bit carefully for now.

The Duke smiles at his betrothed, "A boar would be good sport, or perhaps a stag." Ronan adjusts his grip on the long spear, dressed in his armour with a thick, warm dark blue cloak against the cold, "It matters not at all to me if I get anything or not. I'm in good company that I will enjoy, and I'd be just as pleased to watch the others take their sport." The Rioga keeps his baritone quite low, "Besides, there will be hunting in Sutherland as well, soon enough. I will not lack for such entertainment."

Renden has left.

And so the group is moving into the trees, which are not close together so the horses can pick their way. There is even a wide path at this portion and somewhere ahead are the beaters, likely with dogs, to seek and drive game towards the hunters. Ronan is mounted on his grey and speaking low with Roslin, a spear in one hand and Kierne riding behind carrying extras.
The Duke smiles at his betrothed, "A boar would be good sport, or perhaps a stag." Ronan adjusts his grip on the long spear, dressed in his armour with a thick, warm dark blue cloak against the cold, "It matters not at all to me if I get anything or not. I'm in good company that I will enjoy, and I'd be just as pleased to watch the others take their sport." The Rioga keeps his baritone quite low, "Besides, there will be hunting in Sutherland as well, soon enough. I will not lack for such entertainment."

Aldren had popped off a shot at a rabbit and Rendon seems to have slipped off into the trees, as a Ranger is wont to do. The sound of the beats draws slowly nearer and eyes begin to sharpen in anticipating that there will soon be game to chase.

Trevian's bow is ready, and he's fallen to quiet as they move among the brush. Without a horse he seems at home. At one, even, with the wooded areas. The man from Sky Forest is most comfortable around the big trees of a place like this. Smiling to himself he looks down at the ground, quiet- checking for tracks.

Aldren plows along at the slow pace. One noble womans hawk sweeps right past him. The Count nearly falls off his horse before looking back with a smile. The girl shouts joyfully. "He will be back." Aldren just turns now as they come nearer the pond up ahead.

Roslin seems quite content as they ride along, returning the Duke's words with soft ones of her own. "Indeed, there will be hunting in Sutherland. But whenever my brothers or father would hunt, I seem to recall much boasting and bragging and whose kill was bigger, or more daring, or cleaner. Such seems to be the way of all men, to me. Is it not so? I thought that was a great part of the fun." She looks up to see Aldren fire off an arrow and she smiles, fondly. "His Excellency is very quick with his bow - I saw him at practice only yesterday. No wonder he looks so happy - he is much in his element, today."

Robben is just relaxing as he looks around while they move, speaking in quiet tones with one Ruxton man he brought with him. Otherwise looking quite ready for what might be happening now.

Ronan turns his head to look and almost laughs, "Aye… drunk and shooting arrows. About as happy as we're like to see him. Not many men I'd trust to /be/ shooting arrows while drunk but I think it's like breathing, to him." The Duke gives Roslin a nod, "Indeed, it's some of the best fun, and ribbing one another playful when we do poorly. It is a good way to begin forging comradeship among men before we must go to war." He continues to keep his voice low ere Ronan adds, "I'm not terribly good with the polearm. A poor Sutherland knight I am in that regard, but put a blade in my hand…"

One of the youngins charged with gathering kills comes back to the path now. Hoisting up a long branch with a few rabbits tied to it. "Thas' tha' biggest yet M'lord." Aldren just nods at the boy and smiles. turning back to the ranger he says, "Pickin' anything up?" He puffs down on the pipe one more time before holding it out to him, his eyes scanning the forest behind them now as a few more noble ladies get out near the opening and search with their birds.

Trevian disappears into the underbrush as he waits for the beaters to flush game their way. He knocks an arrow, after spotting some tracks near the pond. Just waiting.

<FS3> Aldren rolls Archery+hunting: Good Success.

Roslin lets out a soft laugh at Ronan's words. Though they keep their voices quiet so as not to scare the game, every now and again her light-toned laugh can be heard peeling across the little group. "Indeed, there is something unique about Count Haravean that makes his cups all the safer a place to be. Though I guess that if you miss a thrust or kill something smaller, it is Count Haravean that shall rib you the most." She lifts her eyes again to the man at the lead. The talk of the war, of course, tempers her spirits just a little. She drops her voice even lower to speak as conspiratorially as Ronan did. "No better place to practice, then, but among trusted comrades. But perhaps at the tourney I will see you with a blade. I would like to see that, very much. I do not think I've ever seen you fight, very much."

For a moment, the Sutherland Duke is attentive to their surroundings, the way his horse lifts his head just so and pricks his ears around at something to the side that takes his interest at an angle to them. Ronan looks carefully, half listening to Roslin. Until her last bit. He then looks at her, "I did put my name in for the lists already. For sword on foot, and the joust, though I may not do exceptionally well in the joust. As I mentioned, I am very good with a horse but less so with polearms, Your Highness." He shrugs lightly, "I had not decided if I would join the melee. It's usually rather chaotic and crowded. I may prefer to watch and see how my comrades in arms fight."

Roslin nods as she listens. "We should be back well in time for you to rest from the journey and be prepared for the event," Roslin says, nudging her horse along. She doesn't particularly notice that Ronan isn't giving her his full attention - but then, what woman ever does? "How will this tourney work? Will the Kincaids declare one champion of the most challenges, or winners for each separate challenge?" The Princess asks, conversationally.

Robben smiles as he listens to what's being said by his man, looking between the others for a few moments now, expression a bit thoughtful as he looks around.

<FS3> Trevian rolls Perception: Great Success.

"As I have not been to a tournament House Kincaid has hosted in some time, nor yet spoken with my uncle to ask, I do not know. The rules will be announced at the start, certainly for each event. Sometimes the rules are standard that most use, but it's not uncommon to mix things up to make it more interesting."
Ronan's baritone trails off. His horse is perked up and he looks off into the darkness himself to see if he can see or hear anything.

<FS3> Ronan rolls Perception: Good Success.

Trevian gives a low whistle- a sign other hunters and those in the know might know as a heads up. Those who look his way will get a nod- and he'll point his finger in the direction of the approaching quarry. He nocks an arrow and takes a spot near and slightly behind a tree to stand and aim.

<FS3> Roslin rolls Perception: Good Success.

<OOC> Ronan says, "Aldren got SO DRUNK he slipped and fell from his horse and is laying in the leaves with a stupid happy grin on his face!"

<FS3> Robben rolls Perception: Good Success.

When Roslin hears Ronan's voice fade away, she slows her horse too and looks at him. His gaze pointing out into the forest, and she too follows it. It only takes her a moment to see … something. She points for her betrothed's benefit, and whispers, "Over there." Yes, while she knows to be quiet while hunting, silance apparently eludes her.

Pausing for a few moments, Robben listens to what's happening around them, readying the spear he's carrying now. "Seems something is coming," he offers a bit quietly, moving forward with the spear ready now.

From the left something is coming. Trevian has spotted it first and best, and the others become aware moments later if not as clearly. Ronan turns his horse, "Could be the beaters found nothing … or could be game." He hefts his spear and glances to Roslin, "You should draw your horse back to the right and we'll push to the left to meet it." Or them, but his intention is to keep his betrothed safe. Boars can be dangerous and a bear would be worse.

Robben gets a nod and no sooner does Ronan urge his horse to move into the trees to the left than three good sized wild pigs are coming at them! At least one is a boar for certain but it's less clear for the other two if they are sows or younger boars! Someone, probably a beater further back behind the boars, gives a shout, "Ware!"

<COMBAT> Boar tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Trevian attacks Boar with Bow - Moderate wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Robben attacks Boar2 with Polearm - Moderate wound to Chest.
<COMBAT> Boar3 passes.
<COMBAT> Ronan attacks Boar3 with Polearm - Moderate wound to Abdomen.
<COMBAT> Boar2 passes.

Trevian lets fly his arrow at a boar as it tears through the undergrowth, striking it in the right shoulder as it squeals in pain. Trevian quicklk nocks another arrow in preparation to fire again at the same beast.

Time to poke the pigs. And Robben stabs the board he was going for with the spear, but not enough to kill it, it would seem.

<FS3> Ronan rolls Horsemanship: Failure.

It happens rather quickly! One moment they have warning of something coming and the next? Three good sized pigs are rushing at them! Ronan turned his stallion and hefted his spear just in time. He jabs hard with it and it is nearly ripped from his hand, impaled into the beast's belly, missing the mark behind the shoulder he was aiming for! A good hit but not a killing blow. The Rioga manages to keep his grip and pull the spear free as he turns his horse sharply but Alanza is startled by the boar! The Sutherland horse suddenly rears unexpectedly!

<FS3> Ronan rolls Reaction: Good Success.

<COMBAT> Boar2 attacks Trevian with Long Sword - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Boar attacks Trevian with Long Sword - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Ronan passes.
<COMBAT> Trevian attacks Boar with Bow - Moderate wound to Right Leg.
<COMBAT> Robben attacks Boar2 with Polearm and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Boar3 attacks Ronan with Long Sword - Serious wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Ronan has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Trevian has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Ronan spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Trevian spends a luck point to keep fighting!

Trevian finds himself set upon by wild boars- goaring tusks make short work of his leather armor and he gives a shout as they begin to trample and really take the Ranger on. Somehow, he stays up- must be all that sky her he enjoys. He jumps and scampers up the tree he'd been next to- getting him out of the Boar's tusk range and able to lash out with arrows to his hearts content.

As it happens, Ronan's horse doesn't like three bristling bullet's shooting out of the trees. For all he's been in training for war, he's yet a young stallion and not yet seasoned for the Rioga's previous horse was killed not too long back. One of the wild pigs leaps up at the rider just as his horse is at the rear and knocks Ronan from the saddle! The large man in steel plate hits the ground /hard/ surprised at the blow. Alanza takes off through the trees at least for a few strides.
The hell with the spear. His larger sword is on the saddle but Ronan draws the one at his belt, "Sess!" It's a shout, his blood up.

<COMBAT> Ronan has changed weapons to bastard sword.

Robben makes some noise as the boar he was going for keeps on attacking Trevian. Moving in again, with his spear now, trying to kill this boar now.

<COMBAT> Ronan attacks Boar3 with Bastard Sword - Moderate wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Trevian attacks Boar with Bow and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Boar2 attacks Robben with Long Sword but Robben DODGES!
<COMBAT> Boar attacks Robben with Long Sword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Robben attacks Boar2 with Polearm but Boar2 DODGES!
<COMBAT> Boar3 attacks Ronan with Long Sword and MISSES!

Trevian now safe up in his tree (And bleeding heavily) he doesn't seem set to give up. Rather, he rains down arrows onto the boars below, trying to assist the others and maybe take down one of the chaotic, foaming mouthed monstrosities.

The men rode off ahead, and Roslin knows better than to follow. She remains behind, with her maids and her guards. She's dismounted from her horse and settled down on a nearby stone jutting out from the snow, as one of the maids pours her some wine from a skin. The cry of Sess goes up and Roslin t urns her head quickly, as does everyone else. "Do you think everything's alright?" She asks. Her guard grunts. "Best saddle up, your highness. Just in case."

Things got serious fast. Boar are nothing to mess around with, as Ronan warned. The Rioga stabs the beast in the shoulder and injures it but it doesn't flee. The brute missed the charge and turns, bleeding. But so is the Rioga, blood seeping down the lower front of his armour.
Men in the area are shouting, including Kierne who is much startled! Kierne throws a spear but misses, then manuvering his horse over suddenly to see if his Duke needs assistance. There's a quick glance back over his shoulder to look and make certain that Roslin is all right - but thankfully she backed off and isn't close.

<COMBAT> Trevian has changed stance to hidden.

Robben manages to dodge when both the boars go for him, but his own thrust doesn't quite manage to take any of them down either. But he tries again.

<COMBAT> Robben attacks Boar2 with Polearm and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Trevian attacks Boar with Bow - Moderate wound to Abdomen.
<COMBAT> Ronan attacks Boar3 with Bastard Sword - Moderate wound to Chest.
<COMBAT> Boar2 attacks Trevian with Long Sword - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Boar3 attacks Ronan with Long Sword - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Boar attacks Ronan with Long Sword but Ronan DODGES!
<COMBAT> Boar has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Boar3 has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Trevian has been KO'd!

The tree really wasn't too sturdy- some rot within giving the boar plenty of time to shake it loose- and Trev with it. As he falls, however, he fires one last arrow into the snarling creature- and it staggers before falling. Trev grunts as he hits the ground, striking his head against a root with a heavy thud. The Sky Forest ranger is out like a candle.

The sounds of the fight cause Roslin to frown even deeper. "Lets catch up to them." The guards, naturally, don't like it, and they form around their Princess - four around her, two in the lead. Because Tyrel's orders say any royal lady out has six guards on her. And so those six, with the handmaiden and the Princess, ride hard toward where the cry went up.

No sooner is Roslin suggesting checking on what is happening, several of the hunting party scattered off through the woods to chase things with whoops and hollers, shouts and even hounds baying… than a horse trots out of the trees. It is Ronan's horse, Alanza. The stallion has a touch of blood on his flank, either his own or his rider's, but the Duke is not mounted upon the stray animal.
In the forest, Kierne shouts, "Your Grace!" Because he sees Ronan evade one of the beasts, striking it soundly a deadly blow, and then the Duke is knocked down by the second animal. Is it a sign from the gods that the hunt has turned unexpectedly bloody? Trevian's arrow finishes it off but the ranger's hit the ground.
Only one of hte brutes is left, looming large and bloody. It goes for Robben!

As he sees the boar coming for him, Robben makes sure to crouch down a bit, bracing for the impact as he thrusts out the spear in front of him, hoping that he will manage to kill the animal with that one now.

<COMBAT> Trevian spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Ronan tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Boar2 attacks Robben with Long Sword - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Trevian passes.
<COMBAT> Robben attacks Boar2 with Polearm but Boar2 DODGES!

At the sight of the Duke's horse, bloodied and alone, Roslin's heart drops. Indeed, all the guards know their duties well now, and that is to keep the Princess safe. But it is Roslin, after all, and while she is always observant of the rules, she still manages to have her way. "Stop that horse!" She orders, and one of her guards peels off to ride alongside the animal briefly to try and grab the reigns. The others look to her. "Go forward," she orders the two formost guards. "See what has become of them and assist as you may." Her eyes flit to another guard. "Move to the crest of the hill on the road, just ahead, where we can see you. If it's too dangerous to be won, ride back and assist us in making our escape." The men all salute and ride off hard toward teh sound of fighting. The two guards left with Roslin move closer to her. "We must go, your highness." But Roslin shakes her head. "When the man reaches the crest, if he looks down and rides back, we will flee. But first we must know what it is we flee from." She feels for the silver dagger she keeps in her dress. Red Caps.

With a groan, Trevian seems to come to- sitting up even as he collects some moss from the tree to put it inside his shirt and soak up the blood. "Well, this is nice.." he mumbles to himself.

Ronan is down, breathing hard and flat on his back. Kierne has dismounted and grabs his arm to help pull the Duke back to his feet. The Rioga is hurt but he's still got a sword in hand. "I will help Robben .. you go and see to the Ranger, Kierne. See if there's a healer in Count Aldren's party…" Who the hell knows what became of the Count or the rest of the group? It /sounds/ like others are enjoying their part of the hunting. Maybe less so here.
One of Roslin's guards goes after Ronan's horse, Kierne's horse showing up a moment later, also loose but not startled. The one she's sent to the ridge is less certain. It is not Laniveer in the wood as they had begun to fear, but there is a wild pig. Surely they will not flee from a wild pig, would they? What is going on down there?
Ronan, back on his feet, goes to see if he can't help Robben take down the last injured and furious animal. End this, if they can, and be done with it.

<COMBAT> Boar2 will attack Robben this turn. (Ronan)

Robben doesn't manage to hit the boar, and takes a minor attack from it, causing a little bleeding from his abdomen. Moving in position to hit the animal again now, while keeping silent.

<COMBAT> Robben will attack Boar2 this turn.
<COMBAT> Trevian passes.
<COMBAT> Ronan attacks Boar2 with Bastard Sword but Boar2 DODGES!
<COMBAT> Robben attacks Boar2 with Polearm - Serious wound to Abdomen.
<COMBAT> Boar2 attacks Robben with Long Sword - Moderate wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Ronan has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Boar2 has been KO'd!

Ronan takes a swing at the boar but it lunges at Robben and knocks the other man around, evading the Sutherlander's blade. While he would not care to admit to being seriously injured by a /mere/ wild boar or two, the fact is that he is hurt and thank the gods this isn't a fight with Laniveer descending upon them. Robben successfully kills it, the animal dying with a squeal and a thrashing of hooves.
Meanwhile, Kierne has gone to see to the archer, "Lord Trevian! We must get you up on a horse and to a healer at once! You are badly hurt, m'lord." Worse than even his Duke. If the squire can assist the Forester lord, he will do so.

Trevian grunts as he's assisted by the squire. "Well, still alive. So, that's a plus." the Forrester says with a lopsided, if rather odd grin given the amount of blood he's lost. "To a healer then. My sister will kill me if she knows, so lets keep it hush hush until after I've been healed. Nimsy's more frightening than any stuck pig." he jokes with good humor as he's assisted up onto an animal.

Thrusting out his spear as the Boar charges him, Robben manages to stick the spear through the angry anmial. Unfortunately, the speed of the charge ensures he gets knocked down by the boar as well, one of the tusks ending up cutting into the area near his neck. There's a bit of a cry as he goes down, with the animal on top of him now.

And just in time to be entirely useless are the Kilgour guards. They take a look around, looking startled and dismayed. But the danger seems to be gone. They dismount, and begin to help - one offering his horse for Trevian to mount, the other moving to pry the dead boar from Robben.
The man on the crest waves his arms to the party that includes the Princess. They all take the meaning, and ride hard forward to the crest. And there, they see the bloody scene - bad enough that even the lady's maid lets out a cry of dismay.
Blood everywhere, in the snow. Boar's blood, men's blood. Good men, strong men, laying down or hardly standing, dripping the stuff. Naturally, Roslin's eyes seek out one man, and at least he is on his feet - the Duke of Sutherland, with blood running down his front. The look on her face as she stares hard, right at him, must be jarring. It's more shocked, more scared, more helpless and more relieved than have been seen on those young features before. She turns her head to one of the men. "Ride back to the keep - ride hard. We need help. Have the infirmary ready." The man salutes and turns to ride off hard. She looks to the other guards. "Take the wounded men up on your saddles, we'll see them back to safety." And then all she can do is look at Ronan.
The Princess dismounts, sliding from her side-saddle position down into the snow and heaving her way past a dead boar and stains of blood upon white toward where Ronan stands. She just stares at him a moment. What does one say for such an occasion? Finally, words find her. "We stopped your horse. Is it terribly bad?"

Trevian seems rather content to just sort of sit on the back of the horse- trying rather hard not to fall off.

Ah, dear Gods, there's Roslin. At least she's not hurt but Sess's cock! Ronan would rather she didn't see him like this for it did not go well. He is on his feet and manages to wipe off his sword using his own cloak before he sheathes it. "See to the Lord Forrester first, he's badly hurt." Kierne is already helping Trevian to whatever horse is offered and will help the Ranger to mount. "Put your foot forward, I'll mount behind you, Lord." And if Trev will, the squire will do so to keep the Forrester safe in the saddle. If not, Kierne will move the ranger's foot so he may do so.
The Duke moves towards Robben and the guard is already pulling the wild pig off of the man. "Help him up, get him on a horse as well." His baritone is breathy, hurting. Only then does he turn to look to his betrothed. "I … I'll be all right. Where is Alanza?" /Can/ he keep his own feet long enough to mount without shaming himself?

"Aemy…" Robben mutters, letting off a bit of a groan as the pig is lifted off him. "I'm sorry…" At least he seems mostly conscious now, as he's letting himself be helped along at the moment.

As Kierne is seeing to Trevian, it frees two Kilgour men to yank the boar from Robben and haul him to his feet. "Easy, m'Lord," one of the guards says, trying to relax the noble. One will hold Robben, help him stay up, while the other mounts. Between the two of them, surely, they'll get Robben on that horse and safely mounted with a Kilgour man to see him safely home to his Aemy.
Roslin, in the meantime, is still taking in the sight of Ronan - big, strong Ronan - covered in blood and barely keeping his own feet. But as the first words leave his lips, she seems to relax, to let out a breath she was holding. His voice is the calming thing, here. She steps forward, to put an arm around him and set a hand on his chest, as though her small form could hold him up. The blood quickly stains her gloves. "Just here," she says, motioning. Another guard brings up Alanza. "Let him ride with you, Your Grace. It will be faster." The remaining guards go about collecting the kills. Because they can't be left behind, after all!

Trevian is helpful enough as he gives a nod and leans forward some- allowing the squire to mount with him. "Don't much like horses, you know." he says, "Got one myself, a long faced sack of shit named Horse. Never listens."

The others are being helped up onto their horses and there's his own, Alanza. The grey stallion has quieted, lead forward, "Very good. I need no one ride up with me." Ronan is stubborn. Hurting or not, he puts out a hand for the reins. "Gut the pigs. Let us not leave them wasted." Yes, still giving orders!
With some effort, he steps up into the saddle and a grunt of pain escapes him. For an instant, he leans forward too far over the front of the saddle, but Roslin is here, watching. The Duke straightens himself in the saddle to sit erect as though he were unharmed. Take up the slack in the reins and turn his horse, "Everyone up? The rest of the hunting party can catch up but … we are heading back to the castle. Make certain no one else is laying nearby hurt."
Who's left to order if Kierne is riding with Trevian?

Robben frowns as he is helped onto the hose now. Keeping silent as he is helped onto the horse, he just looks out in front of him, gaze almost empty at the moment.

Roslin watches Ronan climb atop his horse on his own and mount the beast, and even now she cannot help it - she smiles at him. His orders are given, though there's no one there to follow them. No one except the wife that shall soon be his. When that time comes, his orders will be for her too. "Yes, Your Grace," She says through that fond smile, before she turns and mounts her own horse with assistance from her guards. Others in the hunting party have been flagged down - none of the meat shall spoil. But with a nod, Roslin gives the true order to the guards - off they go to the infirmary.

You head towards Infirmary
Infirmary Darfield Castle
It is day 32 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E - 08:25 PM

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.

Cian straightens as the Kilgour guard enters and eyes widen at the man's words. The words of Faerinia make it to his ears but he is slow to react to them as he stands frozen in that moment. There is a look around the infirmary for any other healer who may attend her instead. A man skilled at fighting, fighting against this moment. Finally he unbuckles his chest plate and sets it aside so he can move into the Infirmary and help the Kincaid healer unimpeaded.

Getting the men on the horses was a difficulty. Getting them out of the forests to the infirmary was also difficult and dangerous. Getting them off the damn horses and into the infirmary was terrifying. But, by now, many guards and grooms and servants and anyone else in the vacinity has stepped in to help. The worst comes in first - Trevian Forrester, the Lord Ranger carried by two Kilgour guards. The young man is bloodied in many places, at a glance it's hard to tell from where it comes. He is followed by Robben Ruxton, who is assisted by another guard in Kilgour colors, bleeding down his front but mostly from a gash at the side of his neck. Last comes the slowest, Ronan Crawford, who insisted on walking himself. While not as bad as Trevian, his front is also caked in blood. He is assisted, if you can call it that, by his betrothed, the Princess Roslin Kilgour, whose black hat with a great feathered plume is askew, and whose gloved hands and bit of her skirt are stained with blood, but she otherwise appears unharmed. She has an arm set against Ronan's chest, as if to hold him upright. When they enter the room she is already looking for a healer, a person of authority. "They've been injured by wild boar," She says, though to who yet she's not quite sure. "Lord Forrester is the worst." That, at least, she knows.

Trevian's clearly rather out of it as he's carried in, face a touch paler than usual. A rather good amount of absorbent moss seems to have been stuffed in his shirt to keep the bleeding down. Surprisingly absorbent the stuff is heavy with the Forrester's life. He just gives a rather stupid grin to those who lay him down and promptly lays back and waits. His breathing is shallow, and his skin cold- but he seems still aware of his surroundings.

Ronan does indeed come in last, only followed by his squire. Kierne has a worried look on his face for his lord and the others. The Duke is wearing steel plate armour but he has been injured enough he's bleeding from the gut. His face is drawn a bit tight, a touch pale. He's trying to reassure Roslin, "Aye, see to the Lord Forrester first." As for himself? The Rioga wishes to sit, to get off his feet.
The truth is, a serious gut wound after the initial shock, is a very painful thing to endure. Ronan's breathing is a bit rough, "Kierne… … help me .. with my armour." Get it off, he means. The young Kincaid begins at once to comply, starting at Ronan's shoulder straps.
As the pauldrons are removed, and then Kierne can ease off his back and breastplates (helm already knocked off earlier when he fell), the Sutherland Rioga lays back on the cot. Try as he might, a faint moan escapes his throat, though Ronan is trying hard to … stay quiet. Kierne goes to working on the rest of his armour while the healers are busy running about. His sheathed sword gets handed off, belt and all, to Roslin.

Stepping forward to offload the many bottles and bandaged rolls is their healer, the pale haired young woman sans glasses distinctively Faerinia Kincaid. Her recognition is abrupt, expressing itself in a frown that only deepens upon her observation honed by years for the men and their condition. "Sir, would you assist the party in placing the injured in their beds?" Fetching the square cut fabric assigned usually for mopping brows, she kneels to fetch the bucket for water, placing a bottle that reeks of alcohol once uncorked. Trevian first, a critical eye run over his moss stuffed shirt with faint approval. Gently, she begins to rinse and wring out cloth grown heavy from bloodied water, signalling to her knight for extra hands in administering the bandages once all is cleaned. Anyone looking in will get roped into the task, long as they possess limbs and working thumbs. Refusal is not an option, for even the most clumsy apprentice tonight.
When Kierne removes Ronan's breastplate, it becomes at once more obvious how badly he's hurt. His gambeson is bloody and needs to be stripped off.'

Cian looks to be rather tightly strung at the moment, but some old training does stir in him at the sight of the wounded. At Faerinia's words he finally sets to action free in that moment from what is holding him back. With the squire attending to Ronan, Cian goes to Robben to get him settled into a bed. He rolls up the sleeves of his tunic and looks to the man trying to ascertain the man's injuries so he can relay them to the proper healer. At least he seems to have a knowledge of what he is looking at. Experience as a knight or something else?

As he's brought in, Robben shakes his head a little. "Need to go back to the suite…" he mutters, mostly to himself. Looking around for a few moments now, he grimaces.

Roslin suddenly finds herself with a heavy sword and belt in her hands. She doesn't seem to know what to do with them. She just watches Kierne for a moment. But those straps, how hard can they be? Figuring out what she should do, Roslin sets the sword aside, leaning it against the wall. She moves to her knees beside Ronan, and begins to assist with the straps. She's slower than Kierne, naturally, but she's helping. That's what matters.

At least, that's what matters until Ronan lies back and his chestplate is pulled away. He has no shirt - it's all just blood. Blood across his chest, his whole trunk, and pumping. Even the Princess widely known for her self-control cannot entirely be strong. She gasps and falls back, tush landing on her heels, when she sees the extent of the damage. A bloodied, gloved hand comes up to her mouth, coveriring it with the back of her hand. Luckily she doesn't smear on herself.

That's when the maid and a guard step in, moving to pull Roslin to her feet. "Come away, your highness. You're in the way of the healers." And you can't be seeing this - that part goes unsaid. Roslin looks up at the guard and maid, then back to Ronan. She doesn't want to go - it's written on her face. But she's an obedient daughter, so she allows herself to be hauled to her feet. Ronan may just feel her gloved hand on his arm as she's pulled away, fingers sliding down and away from his bicep until she's out of reach. Trembling, the maid and the gaurd have arms around her each and move to lead her trembling form away, but she's slow, and keeps looking back.

Kierne is stripping off Ronan's gambeson, aye. Get the padded garment off so the healers can get to his wound. As he can't do much until the healers come to his lord, and as he sees Roslin blanch, the squire moves around to press the folded cloth against Ronan's abdomin, "Get her out of here." It sounds like an order from the young Kincaid.

Ronan's not unconscious yet. He draws his gaze around, trying to track on his betrothed "Go, R… Your Highness. Come back… later." His hand moves to lightly catch her own as it trails down his arm and her guards are forcing her to leave.

Faerinia calls for thread and more poppy laced wine as she starts to lace up the deepest punctures in the delirious man. Wine for the Duke, as her patient requires all the sedatives possible, added to it his betrothed almost capitulating to decorate their crowded room. Bloodied to the wrists, she raises her voice for a person to assist Ronan and when few are forthcoming she takes it upon herself to hurl the needle and thread towards a startled apprentice with orders to continue, rasping from the effort to shout. Within a bound her hands clamping down, applying leverage as she adjusts and most importantly, pressure. Kierne and Roslin given precious few moments before the healer interposes.

Eliylw heard of the bad news and rushed from where she was spending the evening post-duties, her hair a mess since the white cap she ususally wears fell off in her hurry, it held in hand as there was no time to waste in putting it back on. Seeing the injured, she first moves to Roslin, murmuring quietly to her. That done, she goes to get more supplies without being told to.
Eliylw mutters to Roslin, "… please…. washed off and… will… for… once… calm…"

The knight in Kincaid colours stands at Robben's bedside, sleeves rolled up as he places pressure upon this man's bleeding neck wound as he awaits the attention of the healers. Seeing them entirely too tied up with those far more wounded he looks around helplessly for a moment until he spots an apprentice. He calls for her to come help him. He seems rather flustered at the moment, oh partly he knows what needs doing but that part is locked down inside at the moment. Seeing his indecision the apprentice takes over for the poor knight and he ends up helping her with collecting bottles of herbs to clean the wound and what manner of treatment is needed.

Roslin's fingertips just catch Ronan's in a brief personal moment of warmth before the two are seperated. She manages to nod at his words, and turn toward the door - only to find Eliylw, speaking softly to her. The words seem to give her strength, and she relies only on her maid for strength. She looks back a few times at Ronan, trembling but trying to catch his eye. By the time she reaches the door her hands are steady, she is calm and strong with her head held high. They'll see her in the halls, wearing someone's blood, but she will wear it calm and poised and graceful, as a Princess should. The group makes their way out.

Trevian just sits in the bed he was given, eyebrow raising as people focus on Ronan. One must do their best when a princess demands it, he supposes- leaning back to begin packing his pipe. If no one is going to take care of the two massive holes in his chest, he'll take care of the pain on his own at least.

Ronan is in great pain and loosing focus on who's around him, gaze glassy. As Roslin's slipped free and presumably departing, his eyes close. Dear Gods. He grits his teeth as Kierne shifts out of the way of the healers, trying not to let sounds of pain escape. Sess forgive him, but it burns! Ronan's hand clutches at his gut and he mumbles something incoherant.

"Look after him." Tonight the Kincaid healer seems to be after establishing authority and this over, princess escorted away she delegates with a look and few words to Eliylw the rest for the most gapingly wounded of them. Gripping the pipe, she attempts to remove it from his grasp for a more suitable draught. Everywhere, splattered with the red life of her patients. A brief turn to regard the fumbling knight, smile playing round her lips fast to die.

Trevian's eyebrow raises as Eli grabs his pipe. "What's this now?" he asks, eyes narrowing. He's bloodied and open up. "Just trying to take the edge of now, doesn't hurt to have a little less pain when your chest is opened up.

It takes a moment for Eliylw to return but she has clean bandages, fresh water with vinegar and other things to help clean and disinfect wounds and herbs to ease pain. She heads to each bed and sets some of what she has with her down, looking at one patient and then the next and the next as she does. "I will stay up and keep watch," she tells Fae.

The /other/ Kincaid, this one squire Kierne, helps lift the Duke's head to aid Ronan to drink the drugged wine sent over. "Sir, hang on. Healer's going to patch you up just fine. The Lanny's, they hurt you this bad before and you pulled through. Now drink this … it'll help with the pain, sir." Such a good lad, Kierne.

Ronan tries to focus. Yes, drink the wine. All of it, if he can. Then lay back and try to rest, wait. The healers are cleaning him up, trying to slow his bleeding. Ronan doesn't say anything. The Crawford Duke has been hurt before and he knows, must endure. It will pass in time and he'll sleep.

Steady fingers, smeared red begin their work on Trevian, the acrid scent of vinegar and other, herbal fragrances work to overcome the stink of death. Cian is used to fetch and carry, his strengthened sword arm coming into use as Faerinia attends to the fleshy rents gored by the boar. "Eliylw, you do us credit." Her only line for the night, essentially other than belted orders and deft fingerwork.

There's a smile from Eliylw upon hearing Lady Faerinia's kind words. "Thank you," she hurries to say on her way to help Ronan. He's unconscious but she gives him the same level of care as she would if he were awake and in fact perhaps a bit more agrressive than she would be if he was awake. It doesn't take long for her hands to become red to the wrist, palms, fingers and even the backs stained crimson, but she doesn't pay it any mind.

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