Page 155: A Knight Bullied
A Knight Bullied
Summary: An unlucky Camden Knight bumps into the wrong person.
Date: 18/12/2011
Related Logs: Conversations at the Rockcliff
Tylur Dafydd Damara Kell 
Rockcliff Inn, Terrick's Roost
The Rockcliff Inn is one of the better inns within the town and it shows with the well-lit interior and the relative cleanliness to the other locations in Terrick's Roost. The tables are polished with oils and the floor regularly swept. A set of booths towards a darker rear of the Inn's bottom floor, just beneath the staircase, are where whores generally socialize and eye prospects from when not waiting tables. Signs over the undersized bar area advertise prices for ales and wines as well as several different choices of food to be served at the small eating area by the bar or in the main open area in its comfortable seating. A door behind the bar leads to the kitchen and cellar while another near the staircase leads to a private room that would appear to be off-limits to the 'wait staff' except for food and drink service.
Sun Dec 18, 288

Who knows how long Kell has been lost in his own thoughts as the little 'talk' he had with the Ironborn wasn't fully for Lady Banefort's sake, but it was for his own sake as well as lately, something has been eating at him. Spending some quiet time on the coastline hasn't ironed out the matter and so far, drinking and thinking hasn't helped yet. The Hedge Knight does eventually pulling himself out of his own thoughts for a moment to look around, seeing Damara by herself at the same table as before, recalling how he had interrupted the group's conversation by drawing the Ironborn Captain away.
So Kell decides to rise from his seat and head over, to apologize which he does. "Miss?" He inquires with his voice as he nears, "I wanted to apologize for the intrusion earlier. I did not mean to interrupt your gathering earlier with your… friends so I beg your pardon for my actions."

Third cup down and gone, Damara wets her lips and is in the midst of pouring her fourth when the Ser approaches. Her head tilts and she finally turns it to look up at him. "Oh.." Recognition settles in and she offers a plain smile. "There is no need to forgive. It seems I have run off my own company, not you." She relents and than hesitates. "Damara Kells…" She introduces and than looks to the door, where what was left of the memory of the two Ironborn fleeing remains. "I do not think you had a pleasant conversation by any means, from the looks of it I can only assume there was ill business between you two. I do not know the man so well…so I do hope it ended on good terms." She offers and then looks back to the pitcher to finish filling her mug. "Better have some of this, I think it is better I keep a clear head now that my companions have left me.." She admits in a wry tone.

Joining Damara at the table with her invitation, Kell quirks a smile at the introduction of her name as his first and her last are rather similar, "Honored to make your acquaintance. I am Kell Drakmoor, Hedge Knight." As for the conversation he had with Nares earlier, the knight does spare the exit a glance as well as if one could see the Ironborn still standing there, "We were just speaking of some… disagreements and it ended without fists having been thrown or blades drawn so I take it as good of a terms as one could get." Kell says with a grin before inclining his head to the pitcher of ale, "Thank you, I will help with the ale then." As he pours, the knight inquires in a polite way, "It seems like you are troubled with some clouds of trouble as well."

Now seated together, many mugs left empy on the table - mostly from the others, but her own having been refilled many times now, Damara and Kell are sharing what is left in the last pitcher. "That is well enough. The Ironborn have trouble enough in these lands without the eventuality of spilling blood. Words are much better to that of the option of blades." She lifts her ale, drinking of it and then lifting a brow at his comment. "Is it obvious? It seems I have run off my companions with my dire mood.." It is a sarcastic tone that she speaks in, but there is a sigh soon after. "Clouds are always present, depends if we take notice of them or not, Ser Drakmoor." She says politely. "Mine just seem to be rather ominous as of late, I had hoped to beat back the storm with some drinking…though I must say I am unaccustomed to doing so…I fear I may not know how to win the battle."

Kell doesn't say much about the Ironborn as he reserves his own thoughts to himself, not wanting to bring down the conversation with a discussion of politics and barbarians. Instead, the man smiles and can only incline his head slightly in response to Damara's words. "It is only obvious to me because I have experience of it myself and I highly doubt it was your dire mood that sent Lady Harlaw away." He takes a long sip of his cup of ale before speaking again, "We all have to brave the storms from time to time, Miss, though one does not win these battles. We can only weather the storm and sometimes the drinking helps, because once you drink enough, time passes without much notice. Though I must warn you of the consequences of the day after."

Tylur enters the bar, glancing around a moment before making his way towards the bar. About halfway there, however, his boot catches on a tableleg, and he tumbles forward, onto a rather large looking man carrying a plate of food. When they collide, the giant remains on his feet, but his dinner topples to the floor with the young knight, who emits an "Ooof!" as his face hits the floor.

"I have had one or two days after, ser…" Damara admits. "But they were long ago and I was younger. I almost loathe what is to come should I keep this up…but I loathe still what is left to me should I stop," Damara adds, that faint turn of her lips never leaving her. It may be a smile that she wishes she held in truth, but it disappears when she goes to take another drink. "Well you have yet to run, which I then must assume you are either a considerate and brave knight, or that I am indeed, not dire enough. I shall hope for the latter…" She lifts her mug a bit to him and than hears the clatter from somewhere amongst the patrons. Her head lifts and takes a look in the direction of it. Damara blinks, seeing a tangle of two men and stew about as a decoration. "Well…never dull."

Long day going into evening, and the younger of the brothers Camden enters the Inn, alone. He's dressed a great deal lower key, though not without his sword. Immediately, without deviation from his course, he attends first the bar, and the exhange of money happens before aught else. Only then, and when he's got a loaf of bread to carry with some cheese does he consider turning from the bar itself, studiously ignoring the line-up of whores that are usually present, and of whom he has in the past partaken. A blue-eyed gaze lands upon first.. the mess, having entered just at the tail-end of it.. and beyond, where he spies the Mistress.. and the Ser. The question then becomes, should he take the ale, bread and cheese and simply depart, or remain?

Kell nods understandingly at the conundrum that Damara finds herself in, "Well, it's better to pick one or the other. Either stay very sober or just drink till you feel /very/ good, if you stop short in the middle, it will lead to only useless suffering because misery will be there while you're half sober, which is the worst." He then chuckles in amusement while shaking his head, taking a moment to drink his ale, "I think it would be the latter, Miss, you are not dire." Any other words are held back for now as Kell turns his attention to the disturbance, seeing the collision between the young knight and the larger man, "Uh oh… now that is certainly an ingrediant for trouble."

Tylur lays on the floor a moment, and slowly pushes himself up to his knees. The oaf pokes his side with his boot, and says, "You gonna replace that, tiny?"
Tylur looks up at the larger man, and just sighs, "I um… Yeah… I suppose so…" He rises all the way to his feet, and looks at the barkeep. "Can we get another—"
And that's when the larger man's huge fist collides with the boy knight's face, toppling him backward and over the next table.

"I suppose I should keep drinking than…" Damara says, almost returning back to the conversation until she sees Tylur rise. The young smith is known to her and she starts to shift, pushing herself up slowly. But that slowness is increased suddenly when the punch is thrown and those around react as well, moving or getting out of the way.

The mistress releases her mug and starts to move in that direction, forgetting to even say anything to Kell. The woman finds standing is a bit of a rush. She hadn't so much as shifted so much since she startt to drink. The world spins and she half falls, half side steps into a table and slams her hip into it. The rush of the alcohol through her limbs is a blinding thing and she takes a moment to catch herself. "Oh ..excuse me.." She says and pushes herself up in an attempt to get to Tylur.

Oh, great.. Dafydd puts the bread and cheese upon the bar, setting it aside to be picked up later, and steps into the fray, grabbing a mug of some uncertain liquid contained within and seeks to bash it on the side of the large man's head with the words, "He said he was going to pay for it, you oaf!" The last thing the Captain of Camden's Guard wants to do is to be involved in a brawl, but it looks like this is what is going to happen. But.. no! Here comes Damara into the fray as well… "Get back!" is barked in her direction. Silly woman!

Lucky for Kell, he had been nursing his drinks when he was in thought earlier in the corner of the room so when he rises from his own seat, he is able to do it without much issue. Before the Hedge Knight could say anything to the oaf, he sees Damara stumbling slightly and goes to her with a helping hand so she doesn't accidently fall over, "Miss, please, do as Lord Camden says, we will handle this and ensure he is safe." He tries to guide Damara back to the seat she was in earlier and after doing so successfully, Kell would then move to step between the oaf and Tylur, closer to the oaf. He doesn't jump in just yet, watching the Camden Captain take on the oaf, ready to help if needed.

The lumbering oaf winces as the mug slams into his head, and growls, turning to face Dafydd. "And I said he was tiny." He keeps his fist balled, even as the small trail of blood runs down the side of his forehead. "But you? Heh…" He smiles, "You, not so much." And he pulls back to throw another punch, this one at Dafydd.
On the other side of the table, Tylur rises to his feet, his jaw a bit swollen. He moves around the table, trying to get near the big fellow again. There's enough commotion starting, Dafydd's gonna be on his own another moment, however.

Even as she tries to refuse to be led back to the table, Damara sighs and finds the seat with some murmurs words. Though as the fight starts to pick up, most remain out of it but at the back, some other men are standing, taking note now and most likely friends of the man throwing the punches at the Camdens. She hesitantly watches as Tylur tries to re-enter the fight and the Mistress is even more dismayed.

The men start wading in through the crowd towards the bar where all this action is taking place. She rises again, this time more slowly as she stares. "WATCH OUT!" Calls the woman, as if to worn them of the impending tide of faithfuls.

It's a glancing blow to be sure, and the Camden takes it, and deflects it mostly with a shift of his body. It still has some impact, certainly, and will undoubtedly cause a bruise, but it doesn't put him out of the fight by any means. If anything, it angers him. As long as there's no threat of steel, this will remain as it is.. fisticuffs. "Get out!" is given, a barked order for his Mistress of the Hawks, though he also has a glance towards Tylur. "I'll follow when I'm able," just in case they actually think that he's being the hero here and wanting to take them all on? Hell no.. he's more than happy to give them time to leave, and then he's out as well. Just after the dodge attempt, there's an opening that Dafydd seeks to exploit, and he goes for the uppercut after the oaf is extended and potentially slow in defending; if nothing else, it could give him enough knockback time to get out.

Instead of helping Tylur and Damara out of the tavern, not knowing the latter is the Mistress of the Hawks for the Camdens, Kell decides to come to Dafydd's assistance as he sees that the larger oaf will be a lot harder to take down. Since this is more or less a bar brawl, there is no one on one or anything and the Hedge Knight launches himself towards the large thug, in attempt at a shoulder tackle. Kell isn't a small man himself, athletically muscular from years of physical work as a knight but even though he is a knight, he still has experience in fighting in a bar.

The lug gets the uppercut to his chin, which lifts him up and back one step. It's not going to take him down, but before he has his balance back, Kell tackles him, tumbling him back onto the floor. At that moment, Tylur arrives, and does what any respectable knight would do: Kicks him while he's down (okay, maybe not so respectable). It's a good old fashioned heel across the side of the man's head, which, after the tackle and uppercut, leaves the oaf clearly bordering on in and out of consciousness.

The cry for her to get out is heard loud and clear, but the mistress is still trying to sort out who is doing well enough and if the men crossing the room are going to get to them in time. She moves up then, once the man is down and reaches for Tylur, touching his arm lightly so he doesn't turn and slug her by pure instinct. "Come on…better get out of here.." She makes a motion to the fellows incoming and starts to lead them out. The smith can be seen to in a minute or two, first is the evacuation of all related personel.

The uppercut is successful, and Dafydd is prepared to have to stay and fight as the people whom he instructed to get out haven't as of yet. That doesn't make the Camden much happier, truth be told. But, Kell brings the man down, and that is all he wanted— just an opportunity to leave safely, so looking to Damara and Tylur, he repeats his barked order, "Get out!". Those two, at least, he's got some say over; if they don't leave, well, Dafydd is forced to remain. They are, after all, his responsiblity— but he will reach to grab the pair to help them on their way. "Out!"

Untangling himself from the thug who is more or less out now, Kell looks up to see that Tylur has joined them and that he had tackled the oaf before another shot could be delivered at Dafydd. Releasing a sigh as he brushes himself off, then looking at the oaf's friends approaching with a smirk. Since the Hedge Knight is definitely not Dafydd's responsibility, he echos the Captain's orders, "I suggest you heed Lord Camden's words, Ser, Miss. I will delay their chase." He says with a grin, apparently pleased with the trouble that has been started. Something has been bothering Kell something fierce as of late and he is glad to finally have an avenue to vent, even if it will land him some bruises.

Tylur looks at his Captain, and it's clear from the look in his eyes, the surprised look, that this is actually the first moment he realized just who it was that told him to get out. He swallows, a few pieces of stew meat on his now damp hair, and narrows his eyes with a nod, "Yes, Captain." He looks at Damara, and he touches her shoulder. "Come on." If she allows, he leads her out.

Being led out without a scratch or the like, Damara just glares at Daffy, her lips opened in surprise and perhaps indignation. It flahses across her green eyes but she offers no words to oppose him but turns her gaze to Tylur with the touch to her shoulder. There is a nod given to him and the Mistress is moving, quickly as she can with the smith towards the door. Bloody nobles. Exasberated to no extent, the mistress makes something known at least only to herself and she is glad for the help from the smith, when she feels that exuberant rush through her body from ale earlier.

Good.. he doesn't have to actually grab them, but he'll get them away until the place calms down a little and peace reigns over the building. Once outside, Dafydd looks to Tylur, blue eyes blazing. "It's a good thing it wasn't your fault or I'd have you." He looks to Damara next, his anger fading to more annoyance than anything else. "And you know better." With that, the Camden's Captain stalks off in the direction of the keep; no ale for him, and his bread and cheese (that he paid for!) is still sitting on the bar.