|The Battle Ebbs|
|Summary:||Residents of the Roost recover after the surprise attack.|
|Date:||January 11, 2012|
|Related Logs:||Immediately follows: Bump In The Night|
|All Over — Four Eagles Tower|
|January 12, 289|
Anais eases the arrow from her bow at Jacsen's call, and suddenly finds herself breathing very hard, her cheeks flushed. Oh. Adrenaline. Slowly she lowers her bow, looking to the guard in front of her in a silent question. "Over," he confirms the look with a nod, though he catches her arm when she tries to move out into the courtyard. "Not that over."
Patrek lowers is sword as the last of the ironmen fall, looking over as Jacsen calls. It's to the girl he steps towards first, though from the amount of blood on the stones, it's unclear if there's anything to save. Still, the boy kneels down to determine if there's any sign of breath or life.
Bloodlust has certainly taken the Hedge Knight as pain, anger, frustration, and serious intent on killing the invaders who were moments earlier, intent on killing them, is a very potent mixture. All this swirling in a maelstrom within Kell makes it very hard for the man to stay his blade as he raises it over the downed Ironborn that is at his feet. However, the Longsword wielded in two hands does not fall, not yet as he is panting hard, the pain pushed to the depths of his mind for the moment as he stares down at his fallen opponent. It seems like the knight has heard the Young Lord's voice through the dying sounds of combat.
As Liliana moves to approach the downed remaining ironborn, leaving Jacsen to follow the orders given, she finally slings her bow over her shoulder, freeing her hands as she gets close enough to Kell to access both himself and the enemy on the ground, "You are in need of healing, Ser. You have done all that could be asked of you at the moment. Help me to secure this…animal and I will keep him alive, if the gods will it." Though, from the tone of her voice, she's not hoping the gods will do such a thing.
Jacsen likely does not need to give the order that sees others making way out of the tower and towards the wounded. "See that they do, Captain. They will pay for their crimes against the King's Peace, but I would have what we can out of them first," he says, his voice firm not for Hardwicke, but for any else that might struggle with the desire to see the defeated but still breathing Ironmen amongst them dead. He glances at Liliana as she makes her report, his gaze cutting towards Raffton, though he says nothing on the subject just yet. "Have we any casualties?"
Having collected her knives, Belle glances about with a fretful frown, looking a bit lost. She absently cleans the blades on her skirt. She drifts to Hardwicke's side, looking him over, herself unharmed but very pale. "They do dislike your arm."
Anais doesn't struggle with her guard, though she stays where she is at the doors, the better to watch the aftermath of the attack. She also passes over the bow and quiver once more, then takes a moment to smooth a hand through her hair and over her skirts. "There was struggling on the wall," she calls to Jacsen's question, pointing upward. "There may be injured guards."
With a slight twitch to his jaw muscle, Hardwicke says in a manner of grudging acceptance, "My Lord." Is there a guard around? Surely. He barks an order to fetch the Maester and anyone else with the ability to help keep prisoners alive. Belle's presence at his side seems to be a source of surprising anger when he catches sight of her again: his jaw clenches tight, and a distinct twining of tension travels his shoulders beyond what has already settled there. Ignoring the injury to his arm in the receding rush of adrenalin, he lifts a hand to take her chin firmly between his fingers and turn her head from side to side, inspecting her for injury.
It takes a moment before Liliana's words gets through to Kell as he is still holding his blade up while panting. Eventually, the knight's arm loosen their stiff posture and the Longsword is slowly lowered as he glances at the Lady of Camden from the corner of his eyes. The blade is slowly sheathed and the Hedge Knight gives her a nod of understanding, "Yes, M'Lady." He says before a hand goes to the gash in his chest for a moment, knowing it will hurt like hell later but for now, he takes advantage to the fact that it is only a burning sting. Kell does look back down to the unconscious Ironborn and disarms the man of his primary weapon just in case, for the Lady's safety.
Belle's covered in a spray of blood, but it appears none of it's hers. In fact, there doesn't seem to be a scuff or scratch or bruise anywhere on her person. Visibly, anyhow. Her nose wrinkles with displeasure at Hardwicke's inspection. "I'm fine," she states. "You're hurt."
There's a recklessness in Liliana, reminiscent of her youngest Uncle, that waits only a moment, for Kell to disarm the man, before she kneels, hands tearing the raider's clothes only as much as she needs to gauge his wounds, stanching what she can without her supplies. And if she causes a bit more pain while she does it, well, he's unconscious, or nearly so, isn't he? Those assigned to healing are already coming out, following instinct and orders, and soon enough, the prisoner is being taken away, Liliana coming back to her feet, seemingly oblivious to the gore covering her hands. "Ser Drakmoor, if you will walk a Lady back to the keep, she will see to your wounds."
Raffton has a good deal of blood on him, and it's pretty much all his own. After a few minutes, as the noise of battle at the gatehouse fades and Jacsen shouts about prisoners, he slowly hauls himself to his feet, with an assist from the wall, and leans back against it again. "Can we get a shift change up here?" he finally manages to shout down, voice rough with pain, but a little dry, black humor as well.
Hardwicke drops his hand away from Belle's face without replying to her, his temper only moderately mollified by her fairly pristine condition. His sword still bare and bloodied in his other hand, unwilling to sheathe it before he has a chance to clean it, he picks out some of the guards from those who have made it into the courtyard. "Get him down and man the walls," he orders.
Jacsen seems about to say something to one of the passing guards, but Hardwicke's instructions seem to handle it well enough. "Ser," he calls to that same Captain of the Guard, making his way over to him where he stands with Belle. "You were injured?" His eyes are already scanning Hardwicke, for signs of any such harm done to him.
Patrek moves away as those with healing skills arrive to do what they can, and he peers own at his own bloody sword, rather than the bodies it helped fell. breathing out slowly, he walks towards Lord Jacsen. "How may I help, my lord?" the squire queries.
Anais fidgets a bit at the doorway, earning a long, steady look from her guard. "Oh, fine," she mutters, wrinkling her nose and making a face at the man. "I'll go inside. Just let him know where I am when he comes in, all right?" The 'he' hardly needs any clarification, and Anais turns afterward, slipping inside to reassure the people there that all is well for now and the castle is intact.
There is no sympathy from Kell as he looks down at the fallen Ironmen who are at the Stranger's door as he looks on impassively while they are being tended to temporarily extend their lifespan, if possible. He makes no move to further assist other than disarming them of obvious weapons at their hands as he looks around the Courtyard, seeing that the invaders have been repelled and that the Keep is fully awake now. Kell then looks back to Lady Liliana and nods his head at her, attempting to hold back the grimace that is threatening to creep onto his face, "Of course M'Lady, and…" A brief pause as pain flashes from his chest, "you have my thanks." He will muster up the strength slowly walk Liliana back towards the keep, even though it is just a courtesy as he is the one in a not so pretty shape.
Belle glances up, blinking, eyes locating Raffton. Her smile is part grimace for his condition, but far more approval. Perhaps for the gallows humor. Her attention flits back to Hardwicke, her brows drawing together as he stands and glowers and bleeds and barks orders and bleeds some more. Her eyes fall to his blade. "May I have the honor of caring for your blade, my lord?" she says to him, softly. "While your wounds are seen to?"
Raffton waits until the guards sent by Hardwicke have arrived to relieve him before making his way down the steps to the courtyard. It's not the easiest trip ever, but he makes it unaided by any but the wall. "Captain, ser," he nods to Hardwicke, the first person he sees, more or less. Belle is noted a slightly belated moment later, "Miss."
"Nothing serious, my lord," Hardwicke answers Jacsen with stiff reluctance to admit injury at all. He glances again at Belle, scowling, and takes Raffton's approach as excuse to ignore the question. "You're injured, guardsman," he observes.
Liliana keeps her pace slow, steady, dear Eli finally peeking her head out of whatever hole she was hiding in and dashing over to assist her Lady, "An old friend used to tell me, 'patients take priority over propriety.'" And indeed, as Eli comes to join her, for once not giving the hedge knight her deepest disapproving glare, the two women settle in to sliding one arm apiece about his armourclad, and helping him to take his ease in the hall.
Jacsen nods to the response he gets from the Captain of the Guard, satisfied. He looks then to Patrek, eyeing the young Mallister for signs of injury. "If you're not hurt, we need the names of everyone that was. Lord Jerold will wish it," he suggests. His brow climbs, and he asks more pointedly, "Are you hurt, Patrek?"
Uh oh, Kell sees Liliana's maid approaching in a rapid pace and begins to brace himself for some evil eye glares or scolding, as his luck with Ladys' chaperones have been rather poor as of late. But to his surprise, he finds that he is being helped back to the Hall which he quickly protests though does not have the strength nor the mobility to resist, "M'Lady, Miss! This… isn't necessary." The last two words delayed as pain shoots through his torso again though the Hedge Knight is helped through the doors easily.
A bit testily, Belle enunciates, "You're both. Injured. And you should both. Go to the hall. And get seen to." She holds her hand out. "Sword, please, Captain. Blood dries on it even as you stand here to spite me."
No damage report available. Make sure patrek is a valid PC, NPC, or vehicle name. It could be they have never taken any damage.
"No, my lord, I'm fine," Patrek answers, "but I'll determine who was injured among us. Thank you." With a nod, the boy moves off and back towards the area near the gate, where the wounded seem to be clustering.
"Aye, captain, ser," Raffton nods a bit. He can hardly deny it, what with the state of his 'armor'. He glances at Hardwicke, and then at Belle, and shrugs a bit, which immediately makes him pale a little further, and nods, "Alright, miss," before wandering obediently towards the hall.
"It is necessary if I deem it is necessary. I did not study under some of the best healers of Camden and Reed for nothing. I may be no maester, but I can access a wound as well as assist in healing it." Once the hedge knight is settled, Lili and Eli, assisted by retainers as needed, will see to removing armour, before Kell's wounds are tended to.
"I am not standing here to /spite/ you," Hardwicke snaps at Belle. "Fine, take it if you're so eager for it." He holds the sword out for her before turning an assessing gaze on Patrek to note any injuries as Jacsen calls attention to him.
"Ser," Jacsen says, glancing over at the snapping Captain of the Guard. "When he is bandaged up, I would like an explanation as to why Raffton," he gestures to the man heading towards the hall, "Apparently let one of the Ironmen escape over our wall. Such was the Lady Liliana's report, so I'd hear it from him. If you have this under control…" he sends a glance about the immediate vicinity, "… I should inform Lord Jerold of what took place here."
Belle throws up her hands, now refusing the sword. "I meant to take it from you so you'd finally find your way to a healer — but it is obvious you want my help no more than the Maester's. Do as you will." She turns around and snaps at Jacsen, "You might have noticed Raffton Howell was half dead — perhaps next time you'd like him to sprout wings and fly after." The words are off her tongue before she can stop them, and she drops a stiff curtsy. "My lord." She departs in haste.
Kell knows better than to argue with women, especially if they are dead set on what they want to do, especially if one is a Lady. The Hedge Knight's armor has definitely seen better days and it will certainly take time to fix the broken and shattered links. There is also further pain shooting through the knight as the ringmail is removed from his body, followed by the boiled leather jacket. The woolen shirt underneath can be torn or removed as well, revealing two wounds, one that is serious looking while the other is more of a shallow cut, superficial. "It's not as bad as it looks…" Kell says weakly, though it certainly feels a lot worse than it is. The blood isn't flowing as freely since the woolen shirt slowed it slightly, but there is of course the risk of infection that comes with these types of wounds.
Patrek peers back over at Hardwicke, taking note of his wound and offering the man a nod for his scrutiny. "I am unharmed, captain," he assures. Raffton and Kell each get a quick glance and a nod as well as they're escorted towards mending. He makes note of any other guards that are wounded before making his way up to the wall to be sure there are no injured up there.
Now that she's finally back within the keep, Liliana sets to work assisting in the tending of the wounded. The hedge knight first, of course, his armour set aside and carefully kept together, that it might be cleaned and repaired as means allow. Lili's supplies have long since been divided among those working, but enough is brought to her that she can begin the work of cleaning and repairing the wounds the knight suffered in the battle. Strange, that it's easier to sew human flesh than cloth.
"For the gods' sake—" Hardwicke barks yet another order to a guard to take his sword, because they won't refuse him. Now with both hands free, he takes Belle's arm quite firmly in the uninjured one, though his gaze is on Jacsen. "I will see to it, my lord," he assures him. "I apologize for her tongue."
Jacsen's eyes follow Belle for a moment, though he does not seem to think it worth his while to say anything in response to the woman. At least on this occasion. "Surely she is just… coming down from the battle. As I said," he tells Hardwicke, not seeming to hold him accountable for his betrothed, "Once he's been seen to. I cannot say I've eyes that caught the goings on there at the wall. But I do not take the Lady Liliana's word lightly, so please let me know what you can." Another glance in the direction Belle and Raffton both traveled. "I should find Lord Jerold."
Just don't tell Kell that sewing him up is easier since he will guarantee that he feels more pain than a piece of cloth does. For the time being he leans back against the wall of the Halls as he is tended two, holding back any words as he tries to ignore the pain and avoid looking down at Liliana working on him. Tonight was certainly a close battle, invaders attacking at the dead of night. He knows it might have been luck that the battle swung to their favor, as it could have easily gone horribly wrong.
Belle doesn't actually get far, held by the arm as she is. She shoots Hardwicke a scalding look, but seems sincere enough when she says to Jacsen, eyes downcast, "I apologize for my own tongue, my lord. You are quite correct — I am most unnerved and… not at all myself at the moment. I beg your patience." She takes a breath. "I beg you, my lord, as you pass through the hall, cast an eye on Guardsman Howell. I am certain when you look upon his injuries, you will see that the lady's expectation that he somehow prevent the escape she witnessed was… not reasonable."
After having lingered just long enough for Belle to apologize for herself, Hardwicke leads her quite firmly from the courtyard back into the castle, his expression lined distinctly with banked fury that nonetheless offers no vocal comment to her yet.
Belle is marched by the Captain to… with as much dignity as a woman in that much trouble can muster.