|Summary:||Boar hunt in Kings Grove.|
|King's Grove, Kingsgrove|
|The line between the Grove and the farmlands that surrounds it is stark and immediate; one step yields soft pasture grasses, and the next a wall of trees. Where most of the woodlands of the Groves lands show plenty of signs of human habitation and use, this large and ancient grove - from which both the House and the nearby town takes its name - is a forbidding relic of a time before men conquered the land and bound it to their will. Since the Age of Heroes, its been protected from the bite of steel. The trees are allowed to grow as old and big as they want, and their branches form a great impenetrable ceiling above. A few paths are maintained, cutting through the pristine woods. Step-stones have been sunk into the clear and crystal streams, easing the crossings, but there are no proper bridges. Most of the forest floor is covered with a wriggling carpet of interlocked roots.|
|Nov 24, 289|
The hunting party was split four seperate parts. The most numerous of all were the boar beaters, the chasers and their hounds who had hours ago spread out into the outskirts of the great and ancient grove form which both House and Kingsgrove took its name. Second most numerous were the servants. Retainers with wine and food aplenty, and all the nobles had to do was to raise a hand and their every whim was catered to. This was, after all, not a hunt of sustinence. This was a hunt for pleasure, and what noble went completely dry throated towards such entertainment? The third were the male nobles, the hunters. On their steeds of greater or lesser quality, armed with sharpened spears. The valeros champions of the Hunt. Hopefully. Theirs was obviously also the risk. Lastly would be the female nobility, whose male kin or friends' possible bloodshed was, infact, the day's entertainment. Who were either joined with the houndsmen, or just watching from behind the main hunting retinue.
Stafford was, as etiquette demanded, at the center and head of the group. The great dark forest enveloped the group, while in the distance the hounds could be heard. Howling, barking, chasing to drve the boar down the few traversible paths of the grove.
Since Anders is busy with his two strapping baby boys it's fallen to his squire, Einar, to represent House Flint at this gathering. He's not alone though, having brought his cousin, the Lady Nerys along as well. Being far more at home with his crossbow than a spear he's in no particular hurry to push to the front of the hunt but instead rides somewhere near the middle, boar-spear in hand, and with eyes and ears scanning the surroundings for sign of the boar.
Having accepted Lord Stafford's invitation, Erik is also present in this Boar Hunt, one of the represented of House Ashwood and part of the group that was to be an active participant of the hunt. Dressed not in full armor or soft fine cloth, the young knight apparently knows his business and is in hunting leathers. He is also on a steed of greater quality, a beautiful destrier that is no doubt a warhorse. In hand was one of the boar spears that have been handed out, the Jast Knight already having judged the weight of the weapon and gotten us to it. He is riding with the other male nobles of the hunt, enjoying his skin of wine though definitely not over-drinking, wanting to keep his wits with him and also wanting to see he is able to draw first blood and even a kill on the boar. For now though, he waits patiently for the trackers and chasers to do their duty, eyes looking ove the other nobles present as commoners are overlooked.
He seldom likes missing a good hunt, and since he was in the town at the moment, Martyn has made his way out here, also wearing his hunting leathers, and having a spear by his side. "Lovely day for a hunt," he remarks, looking between the others for now. Looking rather relaxed as sits atop his horse, he grins a bit and seems in a better mood than many other moods lately.
"So, have you hunted much boar in the past?" Asked Stafford companionably enough as they rode, one that could have been meant for any one of the male nobles who had taken up his invitation. His steed stomped its feet and blew its nostrils, but Stafford paid it no mind beyond a calm pet against the side of its mane. Those distant hounds were getting closer, and the sound of branches and underbush breaking afar started to fill the air. Great big prize boars were not the most subtle of creatures.
Absently he extended his arm in the direction of a retainer, who immediately rode over and offered him a cup of wine. A sip and a swallow, then the hunt continued. From a commoner's perspective, it might have seemed somewhat preposterous, but then what did commoners know?!
"Aye, Ser Martyn. Hrm. Seems to be getting closer, don't they?" His mouth twitched in a smile of anticipation.
Armed with a small woven basket, Nedra has been enjoying gathering a variety of local herbs, and - every time the party has paused (for one reason or another, sometimes just to let a more-drunk-than-not nobleman return some fo the rented booze) - she's done quick sketches of the area or just a clever looking bit of wildlife. "It is," she agrees with a sidelong glance at her cousin, surreptitiously balancing the sketch pad as she works on the current sketch.
With a party aimed to intercept the main, rode Aeliana Ashwood, the heavy snarling of hounds heard before her and the sound of laughing encouragement cast to the wind, while the lady's hair bounced just as wild and fey as she did in the courser's saddle. Not to far behind the chasers and the houndmaster. Twas a big beast that they drove forwards torwards the group of waiting men. With Stranger's heavy hooves thundering against the earth, nostrils flaring his ears keen for a change and being held in check.
It was bad form to avoid a social opportunity especially one hosted by his kin. Seated atop of his mount, breed for distance rather than warfare, he reached down for the wineskin hooked on his saddle. Baryl, his ever present companion kept pace at his side perhaps a little interested in the game. "Two silvers…" Nikolus proposed and was again rejected. "Three… three silvers and I'll throw in the piece of strange with the cow tits." Baryl shot Nikolus a silent glare before shaking his head, grunting a half hearted, "I don't bathe in milk." While pinching the cork of his wineskin between the teeth Nikolus baited, "Who said bathe?"
"When I was younger, in my squiring days, I have went on a boar hunt with my knight. Not part of the main hunt but I assisted my knight. It was most certainly a glorious affair." Erik says with a grin flashed at Stafford who is leading the noble male retinue and in his experience, it is obvious that the boar hunt he participated in went well. The young knight's eyes turns in the direction of where the hounds are barking rather excitedly, "Should be almost time." Erik says rather eagerly and with a final small drink from his wineskin, the pouch was secured away and forgotten for the time being.
Einar nods once to Martyn, "It is a fine day Ser, although I must admit that I am not overly experienced in this style. Most of my hunting has been done on foot with a bow, and in near silence so as not to scare the prey." It all seems rather alien to him, but then thats part of the point of him being here really. It's good to be riding again though, enough of his hours recently have been spent inside that he's enjoying being on horseback once more. "The hounds can not be far off," he offers in agreement to Erik, "not to be heard that clearly."
With a hunting bow and a quiver and dressed in her riding habit Firth rides her grey gelding Hope with the hounds. She is riding in the back at the moment and is quiet as controls her horse with ease. Her green eyes are bright and she is enjoying both the ride and the hunt. She is looking for someone, after all this is the event for it.
Martyn looks over at Nedra for a few moments, looking towards that sketch pad. "Anything in particular you're sketching, cousin?" he offers after a few moments of pause, before he looks back to Stafford. "I've done some boar hunting, but most of it has been like Lord Einar, on foot, with a bow." Looking between the others now, with a bit of a smile.
Nedra tilts the sketch pad slightly so that the image she's working on isn't visible from where Martyn is riding, "Of course," is her enigmatic reply. "I wouldn't be sketching just the nothing between the trees, now would I? Where's the challenge in that?" she asks. She smooths the edge of the piece of parchment she's working on, sending her cousin a glimpse of a grin before smoothing one hand over her hair and twisting her upper body so that she can look back at the rest of the hunting party. "Do you suppose we'll have any luck today, Ser Stafford?" she wonders before aiming a grin toward Aeliana and the ground devouring monster that she's named Stranger.
"Come on, Nikolas. Let's make if fifty even," said Stafford to his cousin with a cheerful smile when he overheard what sounded like betting. Far be it from him to defensive when it came to the hunt. "Fifty that I take the boar first. Fifty that you do. And if somebody else does, we'll buy each other a properly decent ale, and get drunk on it at the feast."
"Ah. Well, I did bait a few hunts myself when I was a squire, but that's what? Twelve years ago. It's something else completely to actually stare down the boar and watch its blood shot frenzied eyes as it charges." SAid as if it was the most exciting thing in the world, as if he couldn't possibly end up with ihs stomach shreded to pieces by sharpened boar tusks. And thrown ten feet up into the air.
"I expect so, Lady Nedra," Stafford informed Nedra. "It's been a while since we hunted boar in the King's Grove. And the huntsmaster informed me he had the trail of two great hogs."
"You cannot take down a prized boar with just arrows, Sers, they are too strong and stubborn to go down unless you use something strong like a crossbow. But where is the challenge and grace in using such a crude weapon?" Erik says with a chuckle and a slight shake of his head, as if doing such a thing would almost be blasphemous and instead of a sport, it is just a simple hunt. Then when the wagers are started, the Jast Knight laughs out loud and adds his own wager in, "I will also put in fifty as well into the pot, that the boar falls to my spear. Though whoever is the one with the killing blow, I do look forward to a successful hunt."
He savored a few more gulps before temporarily retiring his wineskin upon the saddle again. Nikolus flashed an impish grin to Stafford, "Fifty," he agreed, "and you give it a proper kiss of parting my valiant lord." Baryl, as always, kept his silence as the Groves noblemen bantered over the wager of coin.
The last time Einar was actually charged by someone or something, as opposied to shooting them before they got the chance to, was Harlaw. The boars might not have the brains of an Ironman, but he's heard enough to know that they can be just as deadly. He nods to Martyn's comment then tilts his head to Erik, "You think there is little challenge in wielding a crossbow Ser?" It's not a challenge, just an interested, almost academic like query. He however seems to be in no mind to gamble away what little cash he has though, not on the spearing anyway.
Indeed, the hounds weren't that far off, and in the distance the underbrush could be seen rustling, first with a snarling hound sliding through the thick mass of green, its head dropped low and snarling at the boar that came through behind it. The gleam of ivory was next great long tusks; thick as a woman's arm, while a black snout followed into view, glistening with the wild huff of breath from the thick skinned boar that was driven.
Hounds made a loose circle, running in close and nipping towards its heels so that its great head swung to disasterous effect, the squeal of a hound that didn't entirely manage to steer clear, followed with the sharp crunch of bone as a thousand pounds of weight slung around.
While around the bend and not through the brush as was far more managable on horseback rode Aeliana, giving the singal to have the spares released into the fray.
"Fifty silver stags in the pot from each of us, them," declared Stafford with an appreciative nod to the rest of the nobles who had entered the wager. He might have said more, too, except that suddenly there was a crash and a noise of greeneries crumbling, and a hound possibly losing its life.
His arm lifted as he spotted the beautifully ugly specimin of bristling hot's hairs and enormous sharp tusks. "Dismount!" he told the hunt, and didn't wait for the rest as he swung down from ihs horse and left its bridle as the responsibility of one of the many servants who were there, just so that the nobles didn't have to think about such things. His spear in his hands, while the boar.. well. It would naturally turn towards the new threat arriving. It weighed about as much as four Staffords, which meant it was more than capable of killing any of the nobles present. At least they had spears, right? Which, might seem a tiny bit more puny now than they had earlier.
"Two?" Nedra wonders, raising her voice slightly with the inquiry. "I've heard, Ser, that if you kill one, you'd best kill the other, because it goes mad when it's mate dies," she ventures this bit of data as she tucks the sketch she's working on carefully into place along with the others. Her head turns slightly, eyes sweeping over the under brush, ears straining to pick up the sounds from the hounds. Armed with nothing mightier than a belt knife and a sketch pad, she is along for the hunt merely for the thrill of it. At the call to Dismount she nudges her mare a few steps back instead, resting a soothing hand along Jinx's neck , steadying the somewhat high-strung mare with a touch and a word.
Firth rides up along where Martyn and Nedra. They are the one she is looking for but she has time yet. She smiles. She strokes her bow, "I would rather shoot from the back of a horse than go up against it on foot with a spear, the horse runs faster than I." She points out with a smile.
Eyes focus on Einar as the question is directed at him and Erik shakes his head in response, "Not when it comes to boars. It is more challenging to test one's mettle and his skill in the spear to stand in front of a charging boar than to shoot it with a crossbow from afar." The way that the Jast Knight speaks is as if he is stating a fact, and not just an opinion on the matter. Perhaps an arrogance and confidence to his words when it comes to his views on spears compared to crossbows. Erik's attention then quickly snaps ahead again as the underbrush is disturbed. When the animals started appearing, including the black boar, the young knight's lips curl up into a grin.
When the call to dismount is given, there is no hesitation and Erik quickly calls for his squire who was hanging in the back as to not disturb the noble hunters' conversations. Dismounting, his steed was given over to Joseph and the Jast Knight readies his spear as he eyes to others, "May the Warrior lend your spears strength." Then, he was ready and there is no look of fear or doubt on his face, as if the boar would pose no threat and the results are already written in stone.
Einar silently acress with Firth as he dismounts and passes the reins off to one of Nerys' guards. "Have you ever faced a boar with only a crossbow to had Ser?" he then follows up to Erik, "should you ever do so, ensure that you can reload quickly. I was once charged when hunting all together different fair and can say with the Seven as my witness that without the it did not stay far away for long." As the beast itself appears though he takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on the spear's shaft in readyness. He's not afraid, but no does he seem to have quite the bloodlust of some of the others.
The cry to dismount received a airy suck of his teeth in response. Baryl was first, landing onto the ground and ready to remain in the background however with a careful watch to his one eyed charge. Eventually Nikolus followed suit and promptly offered his leather reigns to Baryl, offering a lowly spoken, "Should it gore me and I fall Ser Baryl, name your first bastard after me." He moves for one the spears now and poises himself ready, mocking some stance he may have seen from nearly forgotten memory.
Nedra smiles a greeting to Firth, "My lady Firth, it's good to see you again," she says in return before nodding a firm and rather emphatic agreement. "I trust my Jinx to run a lot faster than I, though I believe I would be just as motivated. She is, however, more fleet of foot than I," she adds with a laugh. A glance is sent toward the bow that Firth is holding, a glimpse of honest envy in her eyes at the skill as she admits, in a faintly chagrined tone, "The most dangerous I would be is to throw rocks. I should've remembered to bring rocks to throw," a quiet laugh follows her words.
Martyn shrugs a little at Erik's words, before he dismounts, patting Miramis briefly before handing over the reins. Moving over with the others, with his spear ready. "And so it begins…" It's said a bit lightly, though. "Wish me luck, cousin," is offered in Nedra's direction, with a bit of a grin, before he gets ready now.
Having fallen back a bit to observe the unfamiliar faces of those participating in the hunt, Arabella Fenster, youngest sister to Young Lord Alric, listens with amusement to the banter back and forth of the nobles. With caution, she guides her mount towards the one familiar fave among them. A knight she has only met today in the inn, earlier, Though as she approaches, she remains near the side of the Mallister lady with the aketching parchment. Giving the lady a friendly smile, she looks towards the brush as well. "I have never participated in a hunt before, forgive me if I commit a inladylike miatake… such as speaking while hunting." Eyes dance as she speaks, delighted to be here all the same.
<FS3> Staford rolls Hunting-2: Failure.
<FS3> Einar rolls Reaction: Failure.
<FS3> Nikolus rolls Reaction-3: Embarassing Failure.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Hunting-1: Failure.
<FS3> Erik rolls Hunting-1: Good Success.
"Luck, cousin, and may your aim be true," Nedra wishes for Martyn before watching him set himself to join the others. She turns towards the young noblewoman with light brown hair and blue eyes, smiling a greeting as she tilts her head in a nod to accompany: "I've never participated in this sort of hunt either. But so far it's seems rather fun." A glance is sent around and back before she adds, in a lower voice, "Worry not about speaking, if the hunt lasts long enough the gracious lords in our party may well end up singing loudly enough to scare off any but the most deaf - or possibly just tone deaf - of prey."
"Don't worry, Ser Martyn. If you're to die this day, I'm sure we'll toast to you while we eat like kings at the feast!" said Stafford with a wry look in Martyn's direction.
The whole point of approaching the boar of course was to judge its demeanor and measure one's angles, to encourage the boar to charge. Because whoever got charged of course had the first stab at the great beast. With the hounds rattling it from behind, a puny man was a far less dangerous looking oppponent than a pack. Which the boar naturally thought of as like to wolves. Stafford would later blame his intoxication to the fact that he COMPLETELY misjudged. Damn it, he wasn't in the right spot at the rigth time, for all that he had been wielding his spear with a purpose.
The Boar charged Erik. A thousand pounds worth of pure muscle, bearing down on the poor young knight with that puny little spear. It would have crossguard to prevent the boar from just driving itself straight through the spear and still killing the hunter. Which had happened on occasion, thus the revolutionary solution to prevent such a thing. Pay your respect to the dead hunters whose lessons preserved our lives. The ground seemed to thunder. The beast's eyes were crimson streaked, wild and wide, and full of fury. Make no mistake, if it actually caught Erik, it would do its best to kill him.
Laughter escapes at the words and reassurances from the Mallister lady. "I think that is a definite must see, my lady." Overhearing a bit of the joking carmarderie between the men. Another chuckle is given. "I admit to already being amused by the participants in the hunt." After a brief pause, Bella looks towards the brush then back to Nedra. "I am Arabella Fenster, my lady. Alric's sister.
Any response that Erik may have had for Einar was quickly forgotten as their prey has arrived and is being harrassed by the hounds. Instead of shying away from the boar, the young knight is full of confidence and is willing to be one of those that stand towards the front, studying the angry beast as both hands grip the boar spear firmly. A few more steps forward and to the side, the Jast Knight is putting himself in an open lane for the boar, not only to the creature's line of sight but also a clear path to charge. He also angles his body slightly to the side, to show a smaller profile which may also show a less intimidating target.
All the maneuvers and subtly appears to work as Erik sees the boar charging at him. The pounding of its feet and the rush only has the young knight steeling his will, stance now steady as his eyes lock onto the prey. There is no fear but instead calmness coming from the Ashwood's sworn as the distance closes between the two in seconds. Finally, when the distance is judged right, Erik actually takes a half step forward with one foot while driving the heavy boar spear forward at the target, both arms flexing with muscle and power.
<FS3> Erik rolls Spears-1: Great Success.
Both leather gloved hands gripped on the body of his spear, awkwardly, Nikolus eyed the beasts approach while tilting his frame to the right. There were a few others ahead of him, brave, or stupid. At the back he was safe and granted more time to avoid a raging charge from the creature. "Dinner's up boys!"
The boar struck Erik's spear in its charge, but while the blade pierced its massive chest, it didn't actually score the heart. Still blood splattered, a shot that struck Erik straight in the face, a bigi splatter of crimson. Instead of kiling it., the spear drove itself into the lung, causing the bristling boar to roar and snort and foam on the mouth, while it wielded its tusks like great big scythes. Pushing forward, trying to get close enough to kill any of the great man things who were tormenting it.
<FS3> Staford rolls Spears-2: Success.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Spears-1: Success.
<FS3> Einar rolls Spears: Good Success.
"Ah! we meet at last, Lady Arabella Fenster," Nedra says, delight conveyed in her tone of voice, "I'm Nedra Mallister," she explains, "your brother is a friend of mine, I was so hoping that Lady Ilaria and your brother would be attending." She says this as she carefully coils the reins around her right hand, keeping her left free to rest on the side of her mares neck as she guides Jinx back another half pace, remaining alongside Arabella.
Einar had almost started to brace the butt of his spear against his foot, as if preparing to hold off a cavalry charge, but thankfully his brain over takes drilled instinct and the weapon is in it's proper position as the boar hurtles forward. Not at him though, which he isn't distraught about, especially seeing how well Erik seems to handle it. As the great beast pushes on he judges his moment carefully and thrusts the spear forwards as hard as he can towards it's chest. It's not a bad attack, but nor is it good enough claim the kill, bouncing instead off a rib.
<FS3> Nikolus rolls Spears-2: Success.
Stranger's hooves pranced back and forth, encouraged by the scent of blood on the air while the Kennelmaster took a look at the dog that still whimpered out its death groans and finally silenced the beast with a snap of its neck. Meanwhile, Aeliana watched, less involved in the fact that on the other side of the raging beast there was conversation and more involved in the fact that the some of the Riverland's most noble men were up on the chopping block of death and for every one who walked away, she gave a little sigh of relief.
His own attempt to take out the boar doesn't go too well, as Martyn manages to hit the animal, and avoid getting hit, but doesn't succeed in bringing it down. "Tough little…" he begins, shaking his head a little.
Stafford joined Erik once it was obvious that the Jast knight's initialy strike hadn't struck its heart. Whoever, the boar's bristling hide was more than sufficient to avert the cut, and spear's point merely slid along its ribs rather than did any substantial damage. Knowing that this was a dangerous point in the hunt, he focused his eyes and prepared another more concentrated blow. Because now the boar was enraged beyond any kind of reason or fear, bloodied by multiple strikes from the other hunters, but not quite brought down to death.
<FS3> Einar rolls Spears: Good Success.
Alric was a bit late and a bit slow to actually be part of the men trying to bring down the boar. Having slipped up close to where the ladies are for now. Though standing ready in case he is needed. But with them seeming to have the boar cornered there isn't much room for him to join in. Watching each man as well as the boar. Perhaps wanting to get in as well, but it might be for the better that he can't. For now.
Nikolus' attempt is there. A little. The metal head of his spear gave the boar a nick against a hoof or ankle. It was all a blur through all the clammor of weapons flying and men grunting.
<FS3> Nikolus rolls Spears-2: Failure.
<FS3> Staford rolls Spears-2: Good Success.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Spears-1: Good Success.
Pleased,Bella beams a bright smile to the Mallister lady. "He has mentioned you, I am so happy to finally meet you my lady. " As Alric arrives, she glances over at him. "I see you finally managed to make an appearance dear brother." Attempting a wry tone, though her affection for him is too great to manage successfully.
Einar draws his arm back, bringing the spear with it, although most of his concentration at the moment is on his footwork as he moves to stay out of range of those dangerous tusks. Spotting another openning he drives forward once more, narrowly missing the beast's neck and plunging the spearshead into it's shoulder instead.
Erik spends 1 luck points on Increasing Spear success by one level!.
If the blood did not spurt from the wound and splash against Erik's face, the young knight may have quickly gone for a second stab after causing the boar's charge to end with a grevious but not killing strike. However, with the distraction, one which could prove fatal, he pulls his spear back and takes a step back so he can wipe at his face with an arm, clearing his sight and not risking going in blind or with his vision impaired. Seeing that others have joined in at stabbing at the boar, Erik now gets to choose his spot, most likely waiting for an opening not only so he has room to strike again but so he could get in a possible killing stab as well. Finally, one is spotted and the Jast Knight steps forward again and with boar spear gripped in both hand, thrusts forth with the bloodied weapon.
<FS3> Erik rolls Spears-1: Great Success. (Great becomes AMAZING!)
There is a chuckle given to his sister's words as Alric's eyes are still on the men and the beast. "I tried to get here quickly but seems the boar has enough trouble as it is." And with that the boar seems to be going down. A smile given as well. Then there is a glance to both Bella and Nedra. "And a good day to both of you." Then it is quickly back to the men and seemingly dead boar.
Alas, the boar saw an opening when Nikolus attacked, and with a sudden fury it wrenched itself out of the spears that were piercing its hide and did a quick charge on the Groves nobleman. Its massive yellow tusks caught the man in the knee and thigh, and *heaved* upwards, a result that would throw Nikolus up through the air and into the underbrush, blood splutering and flesh torn apart. It could have been worse, however; no major arteries would be cut through, or mmuscles or bones taken apart. He'd be in bed for a while, though, and have a scar that he could tell everybody.
"Ahh, my lord Alric, kind of you to join us," Nedra remarks, humor making her eyes sparkle before she turns her attention back to the struggle. The scent of blood makes her mare shift her hooves against the ground in a restless manner, long tail swishing in sweeping arcs. "Easy," she murmurs to the nervous chestnut colored mare, sliding a soothing hand along the mares neck, leaning slightly forward for a moment.
<FS3> Nikolus rolls Body: Failure.
Poking into the boar while it's still there, Martyn manages to hit the animal a bit more now, frowning as he sees the animal hit Nikolus.
<FS3> Aeliana rolls Herbalism: Success.
Patience and skilled hands prove to be the recipe for success as Erik's spear finds its mark, the spear point neatly stabs right into the side of the boar's chest and slips in between the ribs, though it is too late to save Nikolus from the savage goring he took in the knee. The good news is that the spear pierced through lungs and into the heart as well, the tip spearing right into the most important organ within the boar. Instead of pulling the spear back, Erik continues on with his momentum and force, his legs tensing as he continues to drive body and spear forward while arms flexing to pin the poor boar down, making sure it is dead and no longer a threat.
He was ready, side by side with warriors in a heated moment of predators versus pray. The warmed wine coursing through his blood fueled his bravery and unfortunately crippled his lacking skill even further. His spear missed, aim false which had left him open for the bore's vengenence. Baryl was too late, Nikolus was already hoisted into the air and arms flailing for stability. "Shit shit shit!" All breath expelled from his body as it collided onto the ground and rolled limply into stillness.
"Nikolus!" Stafford cried out when his cousin made his near-fatal mistake and was targeted by the great big thousand pound boar. And went, of course, flying, as one tended to do when a massive monster like that heaved up with its tusks and goared one properly. He tried to stab the boar to end it, and save Nikolus, but his spear just grazed off the hide once more. Deeper than the last time, but.. while muscle and blood splustered from the great big monster, it didn't kill the thing.
That took Erik, with his perfect aim and a bit of luck, perhaps. Stab, stab, stab. Staffored didn't stop until the monster was properly done before he could catch ihs breath and stare towards his fallen kin.
"Fetch the Maester!" Because boar hunting was *known* as dangerous, they had the Citadel trained healer with them close behind, just incase.
With the boar downed, there's a no acknowledgement from Aeliana that it'd happened. At the sight of the Groves cousin going flying through the air, she'd sunk her heels into Strangers flanks and swung round the cluster of nobles towards the poor Groves on flying. From the coursers back she slides, with the reins passed off to her man for few could proper handle the antisocial beast. The saddle bags came back with her, as she took to her knees; while Stafford hailed the Maester and she struck a thin vile of smelling salts beneath the still man's nose and left it laying atop his chest while she rummaged for something to help clean the wound as they waited for the Maester.
Arabella is distracted momentarily in speaking with her brother and Nedra when she realizes something has gone terribly wrong with the hunt. Blue eyes seek the hunters and as she sees the boar making a sudden charge for a nobleman. A gasp escapes on a rush of breath as she inhales sharply. A strangled sound escapes the Fenster lady as she notices the landing and curses. "Oh no.," the words are softly spoken, only a whisper. "Help him…" Seeing the boar downed, she quickly dismounts and rushes for the downed man.
<FS3> Einar rolls Herbalism: Success.
With Erik's impressive thrust finishing off the boar, Einar moves quickly towards where Nikolus landed. Passing his spear off to whoever is closest he diverts only briefly to his horse to grab a pouch from one of the saddlebags and then it's off to the fallen Groves' side. With Aeliana beating him to Nikolus he lets her get on with the salts and reaches for the firemilk vile in his pouch. Withdrawing that he offers it across to Aeliana, "that should be a start. I have no milk of the poppie though I'm afraid."
Nedra's head lifts, fighting Jinx for a semblance of control, and turns the mare to join Aeliana's lead toward the sudden sight of Nikolus flying through the air and hitting the ground with what seems to her to be a rather audible impact. She holds the basket she'd been carrying, gathering herbs along the way, and slides down out of the saddle to land lightly on her feet, her guard Petyr following swift on her heels. "Ae, let me help," she says in a quiet voice, already sorting through the herbs that she's gathered, hunting through her memory to find useful purposes for what she already has.
Alric watches Nikolus fly through the air and is about to move to try and help. Seeing Aeliana going before him and he does move a bit closer, following his sister. Letting the people around see to the horses for now. "How is he, lady Aeliana?" He asks, keeping around in case he can help. He doesn't move too close though, since he is no healer.
<FS3> Nedra rolls Herbalism: Great Success.
With the boar no longer moving, adrenaline begins to fade from Erik perspiration drips down the side of his face and now breathing deeply to catch his breath. The success does have the young knight grinning broadly before glancing at where he thought the noble who was the victim of those lethal horns went. Withdrawing his boar spear with more blood pouring from the wound, the Jast Knight marches over to where the fallen lordling is, "Is he all right?" The idle question asked though eyes are now searching for the maester in question, as if expecting the man to appear from thin air. Life as a noble is rather easy, at least for Erik, who is expecting everything to be available when needed. The young knight grows quiet though as the ladies not descend upon Nikolus to feed the poor man drugs.
<FS3> Arabella rolls Chiurgeonry: Good Success.
That awful smell jolted him awake, conjoined with the wrenching pain radiating from his right leg and near the knee. His one good eye caught a glimpse of the bloody mess and the loudest cry a manish man could wail bellowed from his mouth. Nikolus was attempting to reach for the open wound as though his own pressure could ease the pain. A reactionary effort and one without thought since his hands barely left the ground.
Quietly sitting amongst the womenfolk, Bastien has been keeping to himself as usual. The large man wears hunting garments suitable for the occasion, with a tabard draped over them bearing the Ashwood family crest. The large Knight has a hefty boarspear propped against his shoulder, and his attention appears to be elsewhere..That is, until the sound of hollaring and gasping and bodies flying draws his attention from the surrounding trees and back to the matter at hand. The large man does not move, knowing better than to get in the way while everyone rushes to the fallen cousin. "Hm."
Martyn frowns a little bit as he watches now, but doesn't rush over at the moment. Since so many of the others have done it, and there isn't much he can do to help, after all.
It would take a few minutes until the Master arrived. Until then, the herbs given to Nikolus by Aeliana ensured that the man was taken away from the hellish onslaught of pain that such an injury would usually give. Arabellla offered further assistance, turning a hideous wound into one far less dirty and likely to leave Nikolus dead by infection, or just bleeding out. The result was that Nikolus was not only concious, but looking like he wasn't in any danger of dying at all. What luck!
Stafford gave Erik a clap on the shoulder for his skill with the spear, even as he watched while the flock of good doers appeared to take care of his cousin. "He looks like's good?" It was said somewhat dubiously, because the Young Lord of Kingsgrove had no idea just how bad injuries could get. While he was a veteran of several wars, the knight made ap oint out of staying far away from sick tents. It was just depressing to listen to men moaning, and besides, he was an important man. When *he* got injured, he always had maesters tending to his every movement and word, making sure that he was in *perfect* health.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," Aeliana promised; with one hand braced on Nik's chest to keep him from rising and possibly further doing damage for himself. "You're going to be just fine," she promised, whether it was true or not and looked up towards the Flint when he spoke, head bobbing in a kindly expression when he passed the Firemilk over. Whilst it might hurt like the devil, she used it to purify the wound and perhaps, while she did so, levered a little more weight against him. And, offered a few more quiet words against his ear. The herbs that Nedra had collected, passed to the Maester when he arrived to make use of.
Arabella kneels beside the fallen lord as near as can be with the others surrounding him. "You must stop the bleeding foremost." Pulling a ribbon from her dress, she offers it. "Wrap it tightly .." Though does the deed herself, glad when he has herbs for pain. Moving back, she offers a shaky smile, "You will be fine, my lord, with a little rest."
Nedra's limited skills are only enough to offer what help she can from the fresh herbs that she'd already gathered. She studies the work that the Maester does upon Nikolus, staying to the side of Aeliana and out of the way of the Maester. Her attention keeps shifting from Nikolus on the ground and a wary glance sent around at the brush nearby, worrying as much about the wounded man as the scent of blood and of course the not quiet death that the boar succumbed to.
Einar is more than happy to lend his weight to keeping Nikolus still while the firemilk is applied. That stuff is not pleasant, he knows from experience, but it is damned useful stuff. "Keep still," he mutters to his fellow lord, "it'll stop burning in a moment but until then you need to lie still." And after then too of course, but it's easier once the time has passed.
"It could've been worse…" Erik manages an optimistic comment as people been gored by boars through the leg or cut, so being tossed aside may be the best outcome if one was to choose the result of being on the receiving end of a tank like boar with large, lethal tusks. "The ladies look like they know what they are doing so I am sure he in good hands." And the maester should have Nikolus in the clear. Resting the butt end of the spear on the ground, Erik is now watching on silently, because taking care of wounds is certainly not his specialty, only causing wounds is.
After Arabella had wrapped off the wound and politely fighting for space near the wounded Nikolus' side, the Maester with the stitching. He'd a neat stitch too, and worked seemlessly while there were women and Einar to help distract the man. Neatly bound and slicked in salve, beneath with the promise that it will be redressed in several hours. Nikolus is pronounced in the clear and more, "Still able to father!" with a chuckle; though he'll need a measure of assistance with his walking for a time and a few days bedrest won't hurt. A nice cane will be provided or crutches, whichever suit his preference.
"You're looking fine, cousin. We'll see you back at Braeburn House, and a toast in your honor for distracting the boar so that Ser Erik here oculd kill it!" Stafford regained his earlier enthusiasm for the hunt once it was clear that Nikolus, for all that he'd been thrown through the air like a rag doll earning the displeasure of a young and tempramental girl, was outside of any direct threat to his life.
"Ah!" There was a sound of a horn from not far away, a sign that another boar was getting close to being cornered.
"To the hunt. Mount and ride out, Sers and Lords! If we are to provide meat for the feast," as if that actually mattered to any of them. Certainnly not to stafford, but such things were *said*, "then more great beasts must be taken down!" A look over his shoulder at Bastien and Alric. "Ser, young Lord? Would you care to join us this time?"
While the lean lordling waited for an answer, he accepted *more* drink from one of the many servants available. Even if Nikolus had just proved that alcohole was not always wise when hunting boars.
Once addressed, Bastien simply grunts and moves forward. Glancing towards the wounded cousin, the large man rolls his shoulders with a shrug and hefts his spear. Walking forward, he starts to head towards the sound of the horn without any other words. Ever the stoic Knight of Ashwood.
Surrounded by concerned faces, most strangers and others familiar, Nikolus laid upon the ground in a subdued state. The herbs administered were swiftly taking root and numbing the pain from his lower extremety. He grimmaced, "Damn beast… there was a perfectly good heir for him to battle." And not the man who barely held a skill of swordsmanship. His vision was blurred though he made out the concerned features of Baryl, his travel companion. The towering knight was given a slight nod while trying to himself sit up, against the advisement of Einar, at least to inspect the damage. "My pleasure cousin…" He sourly returned to Stafford, reaching a hand outward as though he was grasping for a wineskin however his unstable vision has him grasping at Arabella's breast in his blind spot.
"He'll be fine, Ser Stafford. I've seen men more badly hurt," Martyn offers as he looks over towards Nikolus. He's probably been more badly hurt as well, truth to be told. Looking between the others again now, he moves to mount up like Stafford said. Glancing around once more.
After carefully tucking the unused herbs back into the basket that she's carrying, Nedra rises to her feet and dusts the grass and dirt off of her skirt before returning to her horse and stepping up into the saddle again. She turns toward the sound of the horn, equally torn between curiosity to see how the hunt will unfold and reluctance to ride full tilt toward it. But, as Nikolus has more than ample hands to tend to his wounds she nudges her mare forward once again.
Easing herself away from the group, Aeliana retreats with a small smile offered to Nedra as she went, before she brushed the debris from her riding habit and then slung back up onto Stranger's back. Guiding the mount in line with her brother, Ae looks down upon Bastien's familiar head and smiles. "Are you not going to ride, brother-mine?"
When it looks like Nikolus is out of any serious danger, Erik turns his attention back to Stafford though eyes quickly move in the direction of where the horn blast came from. The order of dismount is given and the Jast Knight has no hesitation when he calls out for his squire to bring his horse, Pryde, forward. Mounting the saddle like he's done so thousands of times, Erik then shoows his squire away before grasping at the wineskin secured to the saddle, taking another swig as well. His eyes then moves to Alric and Bastien, seeing of the other two night will be joining and replacing the ranks of those departed.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Hunt: Good Success.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Hunting-1: Good Success.
<FS3> Staford rolls Hunting-2: Good Success.
<FS3> Erik rolls Hunting-1: Failure.
<FS3> Alric rolls Hunting: Success.
After a short ride, a second boar approached. It was significantly smaller than the first prize boar that Erik had taken down with his spectacular thrust of the spear. Smaller still meant it weghed at least seven hundred pounds, bigger than any three of the noblemen who came to slay the monstrosity. The dogs held it initially in check, but as soon as that razor back appeared, Stafford shouted: "Dismount! Grab your spear, Sers, this time we'll take it down without any injuries at all. For Nikolus! For my cousin!!"
<FS3> Staford rolls Hunting-2: Failure.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Huting-1: Failure.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Hunting: Failure.
<FS3> Staford rolls Hunting-2: Good Success.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Hunting: Good Success.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Hunting-1: Good Success.
<FS3> Staford rolls Hunting-2: Failure.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Hunting-1: Success.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Hunting: Failure.
Alric watches Nikolus as he is reaching for something and he sees where his hand is going. Moving towards the man with a frown. "Easy there." He tells him and will try and shield his sister if he is in time. If not he will just pull the man's hand away from his sister before he furrows his brows. Trying to remain calm. Which isn't too easily done. Though as the others seem to be moving along he does as well. Seeing to his sister for a moment first though.
Having administered the makeshift medical help all she could, Bella had sat back to allow more room for the maester. Once Nik has been tended, she leans forward to check on his wound. Bad timing . On her part at least. As she leans forward, a hand snakes out to grope at one of her more intimate areas. The feeling is so foreign to her that it takes little time for three thing to happen simultaneously, Heat infuses her cheeks as she gasps and strikes out with a clenched fist towards the one taking what ahe assumes are liberties he should not be taking!
<FS3> Martyn rolls Spears: Good Success.
Dismounting and getting his spear, Martyn moves forward now, nodding a bit to the part about taking it down without injuries. "Someone forbid me to get wounded here, anyway," he remarks a bit lightly before he moves to face the incoming animal now, getting his spear ready for the boar to hit.
Dismounting as they are ordered to, Bastien swings his leg over the back of his horse and lands solidly on the ground. Hefting his boarspear in both hands, the look on the man's face is not one of excitement or worry. He looks almost bored in how casual he's approaching the creature who's cousin only moments before gored one of their companions.
Stafford once again attempted to position himself so that the boar would charge him, but failed to get in the spot where the Boar charged once more. Instead he watched as the great big monster with tusks when straight for Martyin. Make no mistake, this creature was in it for the kill, and only the fact that Martyn's spear struck it above its front legs ensured that the Mallister knight remaind among the living. Even so, he was probably shoved back a few feet due to the shere force that the boar could produce in its headfirst rush to kill and escape the surrounding threat of hounds and hunters.
"Good strike!" CAme came Stafford, even if Martyn failed to outrigth kill the monster.
Seemingly stunned by a flying fist out of no where a shocked Nikolus sputtered, "Bloody hell?!" His good eye darted in the direction of his assailaint, meaning to toss forth a few more strings of swearing until it appears he realized just what that fist had meant. "I-uh… my sincerest apologies. I have evidently forgotten where I was." The maester was issuing some final bandanging before signaling forth to Baryl to aid in Nikolus'
Were it possible, Arabella would blush even harder. As it is, her cheeks have heated deeply as she, too, realizes
Erik dismounts with the others when they arrive at the pre-determined location but apparently after expending his energy on slaying the first boar, the young knight is a tad slow this time. He is also busy cleaning off some of the blood that had spilled down the shaft of his boar spear, not thinking of getting a new one. When he approaches the boar with the others, he is obviously out of position this time to claim first strike so he can only wait and watch, to wait for his opportunity. A nod is given though, as if echoing Stafford's remarks on Martyn's spear strike.
Seemingly stunned by a flying fist out of no where a shocked Nikolus sputtered, "Bloody hell?!" His good eye darted in the direction of his assailaint, meaning to toss forth a few more strings of swearing until it appears he realized just what that fist had meant. "I-uh… my sincerest apologies. I have evidently forgotten where I was." The maester was issuing some final bandanging before signaling forth to Baryl to aid in Nikolus' rise on his feet, well one of them. Hoisted and utterly reliant upon the strength of his travel companion to practically carry is limping ass, the injured Groves male casts a look over his shoulder towards the hunting party's departure. A last look is given to Arabella, winking with his eye before being aided off towards the manor house.
<FS3> Staford rolls Spears-2: Failure.
<FS3> Staford rolls Body: Failure.
<FS3> Aeliana rolls Herbalism: Good Success.
If allowed, Bella will follow along and further offer her aasistance.
<FS3> Arabella rolls Chiurgeonry: Failure.
Nedra brings her mare to a halt along with the others who are along for the hunt but NOT involved in the actual stabbity stabbing bleeding or flailing. Or flying, don't forget the flying the the air like a rag doll. She tracks the progress of her cousin Martyn against the boar. Her attention shifts from Martyn to Erik, remaining quietly in place atop her mare.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Spears: Good Success.
<FS3> Alric rolls Spears: Success.
<FS3> Erik rolls Spears-1: Good Success.
Stafford mistimed his attack, resulting in the boar taking advantage of his off baalnce. In one momen the was striking for the razor back's heart, int he second he was airborn just like Nikolus had been before, though where Nikolus' thigh had been ripped to shreds, Stafford suffered his side from being opened up. Blood flowing, one of the ribs most likely broken, on his back and passed out from the shere amount of trauma delivered to the dark haired knight's body. It should not be a surprise to anyone that the two most drunk lords -both members of House Groeves - where the only ones who got hurt.
And While he got pain reliefs in his state of unconciousness, Arabella failed to keep his wounds from remaining open and bleeding, and horribly ugly gushy things.
Alric nods to Nikolus, "It's fine." He offers and is able offer a faint smile. He then moves along. His spear in hand as he moves to the others. Only glancing towards his sister once as she is left with the other ladies and the injured man. Moving along with the others. Getting himself ready as they is moving towards the next boar. Seeming to be a bit behind them as the attack is started. As the others attack he comes in as well, if perhaps a bit after the rest. Seeing Stafford getting hit, his eyes stays on the beast. Though seeing him in his peripheral vision. But not able to pay much attention to him. Letting the healers help him for now.
Luckily Alric hasn't really been drinking much. He's not really a warrior or anything so perhaps the nerves kept him away from drinks. Able to remain on his feet and alive, for now.
Gods bless it, gods bless it. "Someone send for the Maester!" Aeliana called, as once more she drew the beast around and those heavy hooves stomped towards Stafford's side. Down from the beasts back and onto her knees, as she tugged at his shirt to best get at the wound. -This- time she spared the man of the pain of waking him up to use the firemilk on the wound, though the pain itself might have been what drew him around. No smelling salts for him, and Stranger, knight breed-for-battle-beast that he was, was used as a sheild between the Young Lord, herself and the boar, incase the other men failed to do their duty and kill it.
Aeliana whispers, "You're an idiot." to Staford.
Even as his soon to be Good-brother takes the tusk to his side and is sent flying, Bastien surges forward with trained precision and slams the head of his spear deep into the boar's side. The beast lets out a shreak, the blow placed well, though not well enough to end its life. Even in the thick of it, the man's features do not change. Stoic as ever, he pulls back without hesitation and readies his spear to land another blow against the creature.
Being out of position and furthest away from the person who the boar choose to charge, Erik gets to see the other nobles ahead of him take their turn though when the next Groves mistimes his attack, the young knight can't help but wince as the young lord also takes a wound. "Damn, make sure the boar stays away from Ser Stafford!" Erik calls out loudly and quickly steps forth as space opens up for him to put a decent stab in on the smaller, but apparently younger and more energetic boar. It looks like the Jast Knight is trying to shield the downed lord while fighting with the boar.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Spears: Good Success.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Spears-1: Failure.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Body: Success.
Nedra echoes Ae's call even as she nudges her mare forward again and once more slides to the ground, the basket at her side still holding the herbs she'd gathered earlier in the day. "Ae, what do you need," she asks as she goes to one knee beside Aeliana and - again - tries to both be helpful and stay out of the way. A look is sent towards Stranger, wary of the hooves of death there and the potential proximity of the board - noisy shrieking smelly thing that it is.
<FS3> Alric rolls Spears: Failure.
<FS3> Alric rolls Body: Failure.
<FS3> Erik rolls Spears-1: Good Success.
No sooner than it taken its vicious gusks to Stafford, than the enraged and bloodied boar turned around to take on Martyn, who had come a bit too close to properly engage its spear on the monster. It ripped through the Mallister's calf, then spun about and immediatley gutted Alric right after. While Martyn was left standing and able to continue to use his spear in attack and defence, Alric was, as STafford, thrown far away and with his stomach bruised and bloodied. Abeit not to the point where his intestines where spoiled, and deathly infection about to set in.
Once more, the stoic Ashwood Knight's spear lands solidly against the hide of the smaller boar. If smaller is a word correctly used in reference to this beast which seems to be laying men low left and right. Even as Martyn and Alric are both taken out of the fight, Bastien seems to work in conjunction with Erik as the duo take their turns impaling the charging monster with their spears. Sex.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Spears: Good Success.
<FS3> Aeliana rolls Herbalism: Good Success.
<FS3> Erik rolls Spears-1: Good Success.
Frowning as he sees Stafford go down, Martyn ends up a bit too close to use his spear properly, wincing a bit as the animal attacks his calf. Putting all his weight on the other leg, and leaning heavily on the spear, he lets out a loud cry in pain, starting to limp off in the direction of relative safety now, clenching his teeth as he leans very heavily on the spear now.
"Nedra, pour what's left of this onto Martyn," because the Mallister ranked over the Fenster, and the Maester had arrived in time to begin treating Stafford's wound. Who's side Aeliana had left in order to move on to Alric, who's wound was in the stomach gut, but not fatally so.
Alric is sent flying indeed. His head hitting the ground to cause him to fall unconscious. Injured in his stomach with the blood running out. Luckily not enough to get him killed. But it would hurt if he was still able to be awake.
<FS3> Arabella rolls Chiurgeonry: Good Success. (Martyn)
<FS3> Arabella rolls Chiurgeonry: Good Success. (Alric)
Stafford gasped as firemilk was poured down into his wound, screaming himseelf hoarse from the pain that the dreadful ointment sunk into his flesh. Like ice and fire stabbing through him, enough to wake even the dead from their sleep. "FUCK!" He roared in agony, his eyes b lurry with tears as he looked up. He could feel the warmth of blood seeping through his sides, and the fact that Arabella had failed to staunch any of it. This was *not* quite how he had imaged the hunt would go.
Nedra reaches for the container of firemilk that Ae presses toward her, rising her feet as she gathers the edge of her skirt with one hand and darts towards her cousin Martyn as fast as she dare go over uneven ground and mindful of the risk of spilling any of the precious liquid. She reaches Martyn's side safely and puts one arm around his waist, her armsman Petyr arriving at her side a mere moment or so later and lending his strength to Martyn as well. "Get him to safety," she says in a low voice, urgent, hurrying back to Jinx's side to tug her canteen of water from where it was fastened to the saddle, then back again to Martyn's side. "Brace yourself," she warns her cousin, grasping his hand with one of hers before she turns to the gash along his calf and braces herself against what she's about to do before pouring a measured amount over the wound.
The boar is in a blood frenzy, something Erik has heard of before which makes it an incredibly dangerous creature now but instead of turning to flee, the young knight digs his heel into the ground and continues his assault. "Ser Bastien, I am still with you." Letting the larger knight know that dispite the wounds that is being dealt out left and right, leaving nobles and knights out of comission, he is still able and willing. Once more his spear is thrusted into the boar but it seems his spear does not find purchase in the heart, only making another brutal wound on the already enraged boar.
<FS3> Aeliana rolls Herbalism: Good Success.
The Maester had staunched the flow of blood at the young lord's side, while sharp fingers determined that the rib had not, in fact, punctured his lungs. He would require stitches, which were being applied even as the muttering man watched not one but two more fall. A healer's touch, light enough to make sure what scarred would at least in a neat stright line and with enough time, little enough to remark upon. Bedrest was going to be required and he'd not be sitting atop a horse anytime soon either.
The large Knight gives Erik a nod and a grunt of approval as he works to take down this hellbeast. Blood frenzies are a horrifying thing, truly, and the chances of injury are growing higher with every passing moment as the two remaining men work to defeat the creature.
<FS3> Bastien rolls Spears: Good Success.
Aeliana couldn't do the same thing that Maesters did, unfortunately, and the limited supplies that she'd to work with were dwindling. The bit of herbs that Nedra had collected earlier were made use of now, in the art of preventing the pain. She did what she could to stifle the Fenster's loss of blood and ease him as best she was able.
Erik spends 1 luck points on DIE Boars!.
<FS3> Erik rolls Spears-1: Great Success.
Still keeping his teeth clenched together to avoid screaming out in pain again now. Nodding both at Nedra and at Petyr, he still holds on rather tightly to the spear, his knuckles whitening from the grip. Pausing a bit as Nedra grasps his hand, nodding a bit quietly at the words. When the liquid is poured over his wound, he tries as best he can to hold back his cry of pain, only succeeding for a little while, before he screams rather loudly for the moment. That hurts!
With Stafford stable and flanked by those to help him move, the muttering Maester moved on to the Mallister next, with a smile of reassurance to the lady at his side. At least there wasn't a lot of fatty tissue in the way with dealing with the Mallister's wound. And having already been purified, something about, "Should have brought more stitching," came muttered as once more the man focused himself to neat lines, lines that'd make it heal straight and clean and leave minimal scarring. At least this knight could still ride, even if it was recommended he'd make use of a cane for a couple of weeks and remember to keep the bandages changed out.
Arabella has disconnected.
It looks like it takes the combination of two Ashwoods, one born and one sworn into the House to take down this crazed beast that is more like the Boar God than just a simple small boar. Size certainly does not matter as this smaller beastie took down many man before falling but fall it does, as it was its destiny. With Bastien's thrusts wounding and perhaps keeping the heavy boar bracketed, Erik steps forward again and with one final thrust, giving it his all as he plunges the spear into the hellions chest. Due to its smaller size, it seems like the ribs are a little weaker as this thrust is not clean but strong enough to punch through the ribcage and into its heart. Once again, the Jast Knight drives the creature to the ground, ensuring that it doesn't thrash around wildly in its death throes, perhaps causing more injury.
Aeliana's head lifts as she keeps pressure against Alric's stomach, to watch the rest of the match between what appears to be only her House and the boar and there's a little squeal of triump when it falls; one bloody hand pumping triumpantly in the air for a moment, before she remembers her composure and focuses on Alric again while the Maester works his way through the rankings to see the men set right.
Nedra's hiss of pain is completely lost beneath the scream that Martyn makes, her hand gripped by his while he endured the firemilk being poured over the open wound. Nedra is pale as she watches the wound bubble with the healing liquid poured onto it. She casts a look from Martyn to Petyr and back again, moving a bit back once the Maester comes to tend to her cousin's wound. She doesn't let go of Martyn's hand, as much for HER reassurance as to remind Martyn that she's at his side. "I.. didn't think to bring any with me," she says in a halting voice to the Maester, making the first unofficial list of things to bring with her from now on before lifting her gaze from Martyn, worry blending into fear as she watches Aeliana working on Alric's abdominal wound.
Thrusting foward, Bastien's spear pierces the beast's hide and with a feat of strength, the man keeps the rampaging monster in place as he finally allows words to pass from his throat. "Do it now, Erik." On queue, the sworn Ashwood's spear pierces the beast's chest and sinks its way into its heart. As the monster collapses, Bastien removes his spear and hefts its haft against his shoulder. Looking over his shoulder towards all the downed men, Bastien's eyebrow simply rises before he's moving back to his horse to remove his water skin and take a gulp.
Alric seems to be reacting to Aeliana's help. Even if he still seems out of it. But his body still reacts and he is still breathing at least. So he seems to be fine, all things considered.
Stafford slowly got back to his feet, a feat entierly thanks to the administrations of the firemilk that Aeliana had put into his wounds, and to the stitches that the Maester - going to him first, of course, since by all measures he was the most important person in the hunt - had put into his sides. He leaned heavily on the spear that had failed to stick into boar's heat as he had dsires. Though in great pain, and unable to hide it, Stafford shuffled towards the downed monstrosity. Smaller by far than the earlier boar they had taken, it had proved a much more fierceome opponent.
To his knees, the Young Lord of Kingsgrove went, until his kneeling frame went face-to-sout with the boar. He kissed it. "You were a worthy foe," he said, before rising. And looking at Erik with newfound respect. "That was masterful, Ser Jast. I dare say I've ever seen such a magnificient display of spearmanship. Twice a boar, and this one the foe of two seasone dknights and one Young Lord. Congratulations!"
If Stafford shook from physical weakness while talking, well, who could blame him? His whole side was ripped open!
Taking deep breaths as he seems to be recovering from the firemilk treatment, Martyn winces again after a few moments, looking first to his hand that Nedra's holding, then over at Alric. "You should have…" he begins, wincing again with a bit of a frown now. Looking from the Maester to Nedra to Alric now, he keeps quiet for the moment, as his spear is dropped while the hand that was holding it is moving to his eyes now. Muttering something quietly to Nedra.
"And you'll be careful with that," the Maester said, before he pulled himself away from one, with gentle orders to the lady to ensure the knight rested himself for the rest of the day, and moved over to the Fenster. At Alric's side once more those hands went to work; washed clean as they had been done from one body to the next so's to not help carry infection. Here his focus was more in depth; the wound numbed and the lord left as he was, perhaps to help keep down on the pain as the stitchs were applied. As the others, his were neat enough not to scar horribly, while it'd been purified before the needle ever touched the skin. He'd be wrapped tight as well, ordered bedrest as the others and recommended not to be aback a horse for at least a week.
More blood and gore, which is just fine by Erik as it isn't his that is leaking out of his body though his boar spear is a mess. It may be serviceable for another boar attack but it looks like the shaft will no longer endure anymore stress, on the point of either splintering or snapping in the next hard collision with another beastie. Tossing the spear horizontally at Joseph, his squire, as not to impale the poor lad, the Jast Knight relieves himself of the lamed weapon and accepts a towel from the youth to begin cleaning himself up. When the wounded Stafford approaches, Erik bows his head respectfully to the other man, "Thank you, Ser. Was with training and also the aid of everyone that I had a chance to success." The words are indeed humble but the grin and rather prideful stance the young knight affords himself says otherwise. He is rather full of himself right now, extra full. "I hope the wound you have taken is not that bad, Ser."
Alric listens and nods to the words from the maester. Nodding and thanking the man before doing the same to any else around him. Trying to move to rise up to his feet when all is done. Watching the others and seeing the down beast. Offering a small nod to the boar. Then a smile and nod to Erik. "Nicely done, ser." All others getting nods and so on as well as he tries to move along. Moving to see to Stafford as well. "Nothing too serious for anyone, it seems. I hope you feel alright, all things considered?" He asks, though it seems directed to both the Groves young lord as well as Martyn.
With Alric tended at last, Aeliana stepped back and hailed a servant to pour some water over her hands to remove the blood that covered them. Her dress was ruined. She was frowning over the fact, but that…wasn't all she was doing either. Because there was a smile, sly as any on her lips and removing herself from the wounded, she walked to those who'd slayed the beast and because one does not hug strange men they're not related to in public, like Erik, she hugged her brother instead, bloody though he might have been. "I'm so proud of you!" That beaming smile turned on Erik, "And upon you, good Ser. You've both done House Ashwood proud this day."
Drinking from a water sleeve, the large Ashwood Knight corks it and drops it back into his riding bags. Moving to stand near Erik, the large man says nothing and simply gives the Jast Knight a nod. Today, Ashwood's resilience was upheld. Alas, his stoic demeanor sheds as his sister comes to give him a hug. That unfaltering look slips away into a smile as he wraps his arms around his little sister and returns her hug. "I would say it was nothing, but I fear what insults the might imply upon our gracious hosts."
Nedra nods at Martyn, still holding his hand with hers, "You know, Muirenn is going to /kill/ me for seeing you wounded on my watch," she warns her cousin before shaking her head slowly. She sighs, not even having a chance to compliment him on the good work standing up to the boar. She rises to her feet as Petyr helps haul Martyn upward, shaking her hand slightly and realizing that there's mud, grass, and a splash of blood and splotches of firemilk on her attire. "Get him back to the house," She says quietly to Petyr as she uses the edge of her gown to wipe the worst of the blood off of her hands - as it's already destined to need a serious intervention of soap and water - before walking toward the last of the downed boars, determined to see this thing for herself, up close and personal.
"Hah. The bastard thing was the Warrior in Hogflesh," Stafford muttered when Bastiend suggested it was 'as nothing', and cared nothing for what unpieties that someone might taken from his declaration. He was high on pain medicine, with his whole right side a throbbing bit of numbness, and if he spoke out of turn, why, he had an damn excuse.
With bright eyes, he hobbled over to put his arm around Bastien. "I'd let you run your mouth if you'd actually managed to down it. As it is, let's say that it was a monster, and put all due honor on Ser Erik's shoulders." It was said with a charming grin of inclusion.
"Ah, I'm glad we didn't wager for a second boar!" Because Erik had a few coins coming. Gold, infact, when all was tallied.
Thank you, Ser." Erik says with a bow of his head to Alric who is apparently also wounded by the boar, which was apparently tougher than some Ironborn the young knight had faced. Then his eyes fixes on Aeliana who joins them, in the ruined mess of her dress though he doesn't incline his head in a bow as well, perhaps adding a little bit of a flourish as well, "Thank you, My Lady, I am glad to serve." And also glad to know that today the killing of the boars have raised his name around the Riverlands no doubt, at least in these parts. He also nods in agreement with the larger Ashwood knight, "If I had not seen this boar myself, I would have believed it to be a demon. Or perhaps Warrior blessed like Ser Stafford says."
Already the baying of hounds can be heard off in the distance before, more of the wayward hunting party comes in. Though unlike the rather successful party, this one seems rather empty handed. Armed with boar spears, and a couple of rather silly dogs-the troupe come down a winding path to where the other knights and hunters have themselves. A spear passed off and the one eye'd member of the group moves towards the others gathered in their own bloody array. An amused look coming to his lips as he catches sight of the dead beast-but more over injured men. "Well done, my Lords." the gruff Terrick calls out, even as his own party moves to help the other small folk seeing to the dead beasts. "Well done. I wish I had followed your rabbit hole along..Are the wounds grievous?" this said to no one in particular. And thus, Ser Ozric comes to stop, and remove the gloves at his hands.
The large Knight gives Stafford an uncomfortable look as the drugged Lord makes himself comfortable with Bastien. "I'll run my mouth anyways." Shrugging off the wounded man's hand, he gives Stafford a doubtful look as his eyebrow raises. "You are high, Lord Stafford." Clasping both Erik and Stafford on the shoulder, the large Knight's stoic eyes peer at the nearby slain beast. "It was through unity that we slew the beast. Remember this." With that, he unhands the men and returns to his horse in order to return to silently staring at trees.
"Bastien," Aeliana replies and there is a measure of disapproval in her eyes, for all that she'd offered a low far too low curtsy to the Jast knight. "You will not dishonor your house nor anyone else's. Ser Stafford has recieved a wound for his efforts and you were not here when Ser Erik felled the first beast, so please, blood of my blood, shut your mouth before you undo any good your presence has in fact done for the week," the lady offered in response and stepped away. Instead, with those sharp little pointy elbows of hers, she made a place for herself between Stafford and Erik and gave both of them a bright smile, "Come, let us retreat and celebrate our good fortune. Today everyone lives and tomorrow, we'll feast!"
Stafford was far too high, on top of having already been moderately drunk when the hunt had started, to even notice that Bastien pulled away. That was how intoxication functioned. Social lubricant obvious only to thsose who also participated in the downing of booze. His dark eyes went away from the larger knight to where Aeliana stood, though, a shine of mischivious amusement alight within. "I saw you worried," he told her, showing his pearly white teeth to their best advantage.
"Let's leave it to the feast," of th eboar. "Back to Braeburn House. I could use a lot more to drink than I've already had." He nodded fiercely at Aeliana voicing the exact same sentiment.
Aeliana frowned at Stafford, "I was not worried."
"YOu were." Stafford insisted.
Nedra turns away from the lump of dead boar that is bleeding, steadily, into the ground, toward the arrival of the wayward hunting party and it's accompany silly dogs. She wipes her hands, again, trying to get the rest of the blood off of her hands as she spots Ser Ozric. "I don't believe they are all, no, Ser Ozric," she replies, glancing from where her cousin has been helped to his horse, then over to Ser Stafford and Bastien alongside Lady Aeliana, then back to Ozric again. "Lord Nikolus was wounded as well and I believe the Maester has his hands full, lord Alric was wounded too."
"No." Aeliana flatly said. "I wasn't." Nose up. Huff. And both arms were extended one to the men at her sides. "So, Braeburn House and good wine. Ah, and there look see, Ser Ozric has returned with his party as well." No worry here folks, nothing to see.
Alric offers a nod as he hears his name. Looking around a bit. Seeming weary and just smiling. Even though he's probably still in pain as it is. Moving around a bit until he can find somewhere to stand and rest a bit. Not seeming to be talking too much.
The byplay between Aeliana and Stafford is of course courteously ignored by Erik who looks away, as if finding interest elsewhere, perhaps in one of the other pretty ladies that were busy tending to the wounded. He also pretends not to notice the gruff but direct method that Bastien chose to respond, though a tug at the edge of his lips into a grin shows that he is more amused than anything else. Right now, it seems like nothing will offend the victorious young knight as he is pillowed by a rather large barrier of his ego. Instead, he accepts the skin of wine from his squire and takes a rather liberal drink, now that the boar hunting business is done.
Of course, after that rather large swig of his wine, Erik notices the Ashwood Lady's proffered arm and as his knightly duties would have it, takes it so he can help escort the lady, though it appears that the other is also occupied by another knight.
"And all of us alive." Ozric adds in as he comes in closer. Eyes looking over towards Nedra for a moment as a smirk is given in the direction of her hands-before his focus is back to Lord and Lady. A bow of his head. "Sadly, my Lord, it seems I have come up short an empty handed. We had a fine trail-one that looked rutted well by sow and bull alike. Instead we found nothing but an empty cave of roots. They were once there-not any more.." he adds before glancing over to Erik as he strides in as well to join lady Aeliana. "Well, wounds well deserved. One cannot kill a monster and expect to get kisses in return."
"Liar," Stafford told Aliana, bluntly and to the point. Then he smiled wide and white as if being handsom and charming might make up for his rather ungentlemanly accusation.
"Ser Ozric," was Stafford's greeting, a bit belatedly, of the Terrick heir and his party. "You.. bad luck, eh?" Though as far as luck went, STafford didnt' seem to have been blessed too greadly by it. He was only standing on ihs own two feet thanks to the administration of drugs that dulled the pain that should have put him on his back. His hunter's leathers were torn around his side where the boar's tusks had pierced his side and shreded flesh as if paper. Though tnded to by the Maester at hand, it was not a pretty sight. Scarring to be expected.
It required help to getback onto his horse, and a lberal amount of excessive wine. Even so he winced, his features pale and drawn from pain and stress. "Too true, Ser Ozric. It kissed me true. It'll be a bloody pleasure to kiss it right back at the feast."
"You can't prove it, you over grown oaf," was Aeliana's 'Hi, I'm a five year old' response to Stafford calling her a liar. She sank her arm a little more securely in against Erik's and said not a word as her brother retreated from the group. "I suppose we could all walk back together then, to help spare Stafford the glory of bouncing back in a wagon all by himself," she teased and glanced in the Groves direction before offering a low bow of her head in greeting to Ozric when he joined their grouping. The only real upside was that everyone else's attire was as disasterous and blood stricken as hers.
Nedra tucks her hands behind her back and moves forward to join Ae, Stafford and the rest, "I think someone expected to get more than kisses," Nedra remarks in a quieter voice, amused by how Arabella handled the over friendly advance offered by Nikolus - in his dazed state, of course. Once Petyr helped Martyn to his horse he turned back and offered the same assistance to Lord Alric, Nedra slowing her steps as well when she reaches Alric's side and eyes him carefully for a moment before joining Aeliana and really getting a look at Ae's dress. "Good gods, Ae, that's one .. rather impressive.. fashion statement," she declares with a sudden grin.
"Or…" Aeliana added, watching as Stafford ignored the Maester's advice and clamored back onto his horse, she whispered in the general direction of the group still not mounted, "We could watch him ride and take bets to see how long he stays up before he falls." Nedra had a flat look for her teasing.
When the Terrick Lord joins the hunting party with his own, Erik bows his head respectfully to he other man but remains silent, not having met the man before nor many of the Terricks. The teasing name calling being shared by Aeliana and Stafford has the Jast Knight uttering a light chuckle though his eyes fix on the Groves Knight who decided to mount up as any proud knight would, regardless of injury as long as it wasn't grevious. "I don't know, My Lady, at this point I would not bet against the knight. He appears to have a rather delicate balance of alcohol and medicine in him, enough to keep him amount."
"I dare say, you shall my Lord Stafford." Ozric replies, even as he is turning to look to where his own horse is being drug along. Ahh there he is. A faint smirk, before he is looking back and catching the sight of the marred side. A deep bow of his head. "Well, hopefully I will have the fine luck of stabbing something on the morrow then." Likely food at the table, but such is the hunt for some men. The knight reaches back for his reigns when the horse is brought to him, and he is moving to ride up as well-though a look is given to the Mallister woman, briefly. "Do you need a ride, lady?" you know if her horse has not already run away-or something. And there-a grin passed back towards Aeliana. "I think he'll manage fine-at least till he can collapse in privacy. It is what I would have done, m'lady."
Nedra pauses then glances - slowly - around, searching the horses milling about, the wounded, the men preparing to dress the boars and carry them back to the House. She searches, even slower, on the second pass before sighing, her eyes closing briefly, shoulders slumping ever so subtly as she realizes that her mare has decided - again - to take a small vacation, which will require Nedra to spend the rest of the day tracking the mare down. Again. Her eyes open as she tilts her head back in order to meet Ozric's eye with hers, "It would appear that I do, my lord," as she steps forward, again brushing her hands - in a futile effort - against her gown.
"So he does," Ae replies, "So he does, but better than in him than nothing at all." It could have easily cracked a few more ribs and caught his lungs instead. A thought that didn't bare thinking on. "Perhaps I could persuade you for a leg up, Ser and we'll go see about finding us another drink, before we end up being the last ones left." Though those dark eyes touched on Ozric and Nedra and when mention came that her horse was missing, her smile turned somewhat more amused. "Indeed, Ser Ozric. I've little doubt that turns out to be precisely what he does."
Alric offers a nod to Nedra along with a smile. Just standing and watching. To the best he can at least. But after a moment he does try to start moving a bit. Though seeming a bit out of it. Wandering to get rest perhaps. Who knows. Getting whay support he can from his sister as well. Moving on away from there.
There an arm and hand extended, and the knight does hoist the young Mallister up, and behind him on the back of his big horse. There's a faint grin passed back. "I am sure she will be found.." he adds softly, before looking back over towards Aeliana, his lone blue eye taking in the woman. "He'll be lucky if he doesn't catch a fever from it. Knew a man who had his leg gored and got sicker than the seven hells combined. Died in a sweat." Of course anyone would need to hear this after hunting boar. Specially ladies. "Though I am sure the Maester saw to him in time. I would not worry-save for when he falls from the horse."
When the Lady Aeliana asks for assistance, Erik inclines his head and motions for Joseph to approach with Pryde as well, "Of course, My Lady, I am glad to assist." Though the thought of finding more to drink seems to please the young knight greatly, it is certainly something he is looking forward to. Then his eyes trains on his young squire, waiting for the youth to bring both mounts to him and Aeliana. As for Stafford catching a fever, it causes the Jast Knight to wince slightly, knowing that disease ran rampant on the battlefield and some simple wounds could fester and lead to death, "Having a Maester on hand is the difference, with care and attention, Ser Stafford should recover quickly."
Nedra is glad, once again, that she'd dressed in something far more appropriate for the day of hunting as she lands on the back of the big horse that Ozric is riding, suddenly reminded of the rather noticeable difference between a lean mare like the one she normally rides and the heavier more muscled horse that Ozric favors. She rests one hand against Ozric's back for a moment, trying to settle herself in place, offering a nod to Alric in return before the Fenster lord departs from the busy area. She shakes her head at Ae, amusement evident in her eyes for a moment, "So the cure, after all, is to drink himself into a stupor and then hopefully sleep until the morrow?" she wonders. Ozric's words make her pause until Erik's words offer reassurance as she leans forward until carefully settles herself in place and sets her arms around Ozric, "I'm ready ser, when you are," is said quietly, hoping she doesn't go flying - twice in one week would just be bad form.
"He was treated quickly and with firemilk, no sooner than it was done," Aeliana offered to Ser Ozric, as she took Erik's assistance and settled astride the tall coursers back. Though for her sake, she will, hope, desperately that Ser Stafford doesnt' die, because the alternative is Kerrigan unless one house or another decides to break the contract and given the history the Groves have had, she doesn't think they will. "But you're right," she offers to Erik, "He should be fine." And settled, her attention went towards the trail.