Dirt, Flame, Blood, Steel (Samuel Longwell and Fiametta)

[Fiametta]

As the one-on-one battle between Hansel and the Yukman Alpha raged violently, Fiametta made several sweeps by the lone Yukmen, those that were late to the fight and left with no allies. She felt safe atop Latigo, like nothing in the world could harm her. On the ground, she was vulnerable.

The Drykas stayed atop her strider, using his speed and courage to conquer. She lost another arrow amidst that bit of the fighting, and she sighed in the realization that she might need to practice some more with her bow.

Fiametta watched Samuel's fight from a distance, but when his warhorse started running, she began a chase. Latigo had no chance of matching the Tiaden's strength, but the strider had him easily beat when it came to speed. They galloped after the large horse, but she realized she had nothing to reign him with. He had reigns, so with a bit of luck, she just might be able grab hold.

Gaining quickly on him, she rode alongside and reached for the flapping reigns. "Come on," she groaned, not able to take the reigns long enough to make a difference. A small grin crossed her lips and she used her bow to slip inside of them, pulling them toward her. He was strong for sure, but she knew once the horse was calm, he wouldn't be going anywhere. Horses spooking wasn't rare, but they relaxed easily when they realized there was no danger.

She walked the Tiaden back toward Samuel, but stopped at the sound of Hansel's cry. Looking at Samuel, she saw he was fighting one against three. There was no way he was going to make it over to Hansel. "Don't move," she said to Samuel's warhorse, knowing that she probably was just hoping to herself that he wouldn't take off.

The wind whipped against her skin. It was then she started to feel the burning on her leg where the Yukman had taken skin. She knew she'd better get it looked at, but seeing a man like Hansel go down was not something to make light of. Fiametta pulled Latigo, who snorted his displeasure at being within reach of the dead Alpha, to a stop.

"Hansel," she said in his Common tongue. The man looked like he was going to collapse. The strider pawed at the ground, and she noticed the blood staining Hansel's clothing. "You come now." There was enough blood that she could tell the injury was likely fatal without treatment. She didn't have the skills necessary to help him, so the best chance was to get him back to the city. Maybe she could also get her own injury checked there.

[Samuel Longwell]

The impact seemed to stun the Yukman for a moment, the beast's grip loosening enough for Samuel to twist free. He spun round, driving his leather gauntlet into the Yukman's face. The monster barely seemed to notice the blow, throwing Samuel off with a roar. The large man rolled away, colliding with the corpse with his sword sticking out of it. He pulled himself up, putting his foot on the body and tugging his weapon free. He swung low, driving the Yukman back as it got to its feet. He pressed his attack, not wanting to give his enemy a chance to recover. Finally he lunged forwards and managed to drive his blade into the Yukman's stomach. The beast keeled over and Samuel finished it with quick thrust to the face. He turned to see another Yukman dragging itself towards him. Samuel realised it was the one whose leg he had chopped off. It hadn't been killed by the grievous injury and was still driven by the desire to destroy. It wasn't difficult for Samuel to end the Yukman's existence, the point of his blade driven deep into its neck. They were all dead. He sighed, now the adrenaline was gone he just felt drained. He coughed, a few drops of blood splattering on the grass. Perhaps the Yukman had hit him harder than he'd thought. Samuel looked around for his mount, noticing the great beast trotting towards him. It seemed that the beast had calmed down. He staggered towards Dan, managing to pull himself up into the saddle when the Tiaden arrived. Looking out across the plains, he could see two figures making their way towards the city. It looked like one was barely staying on his feet, looking worse for wear. Samuel set Dan walking, grimacing as he rubbed his chest. As he approached, he saw that he recognised the pair. “Dan can carry two,” he said, too tired to exchange greetings. He reached his hand down to help Hansel up. “We go faster on horse, come.” If the scarred man took his hand then Samuel would try and pull him up into the saddle behind him. He didn't like the man, but Samuel was not the type of person to let someone die.

[Konrad Venger]

History seemed to be repeating.

One crouched and concerned, eyes moist and bereft of all guile. The other, cantering up on his horse, sweaty and bloodied, was as hard as the sword in his scabbard.

Merevaika. Jasmine. Gods. That was so long-

Stay focused, you idiot.

No time wasted on greetings, and none on thanks. Konrad reached up and grabbed the squire's hand, last of his strength going into lurching up and forward behind the rider-

-and the man howled as the slash across his back ground and twisted, flesh tearing even wider, blood drooling and pumping, trickling out onto the horse's steaming flanks.

He didn't have the energy to tell him to go, for petch's sake. Just had to hope the man named Longwell would get his arse moving and the two of them woul go bumping across the ground, every pounding of Tiaden's hooves sending lightning up his back.

A rattling, liquid chuckle escaped his lips as Endrykas grew larger. A squire, rescuing someone like him. If Longwell knew half of what he'd done before he'd come to Endrykas, he'd shove him off the horse and let the petching coyotes have him. Instead, he was saving his life.

Faces blurred. Just patches of flesh without eyes or mouths. Sound became white noise, all of it mixing and blending and darkening and-

-Konrad shoved a hand across his wound, and screamed.

Don't pass out. Don't let it take you. Stay awake and live. Sleep and die. You've seen it enough to know that.

When they arrived at whatever healer Longwell knew, Konrad would barely have the strength left to fall off the horse. He'd land on his feet, but there'd be no bone in them, or so it seemed. He'd totter and stagger and go down on all fours, wanting nothing more to sleep and rest and be free from the pain.

He didn't. He ground his teeth. He spat blood into the grass. Hells, he hadn't even let go of his sword.

[Fiametta]

Fiametta was greeted by a smiling pup. He barked, and Latigo slowed just behind the large Tiaden. He snorted, biting at the grass and ignoring the white hunting dog. She looked at Falyn's pointed ears with a small smirk.

Hansel's refusal to show his weakness was interesting. He was obviously in agony, there was no denying that, but the man just wouldn't give up. The Drykas girl was kind of impressed with his strength of will.

Samuel was different. The man handled himself in a proper manner. Though she could tell he didn't like Hansel, Samuel's decision to bring Hansel back to Endrykas on his horse was a kind gesture, especially since Fiametta's strider was not the biggest fan of riding double.

The girl dismounted from Latigo, steadying her arrows and rubbing her left inner arm. The spot where her bowstring takes across her skin would heel on its own. It would be probably a day or two, but no need to treat it.

She stroked Latigo's nose, then signed stay to the horse. He tossed his head, almost like he acknowledged her directions.

"You help Hansel," she said to Samuel in Pavi. "I stay with wal." She signed horse to the warrior, then placed her hand on the Tiaden's velvety nose with a gentle smile. She ignored the scrapes she had gotten from the Yukmen, as the wound Hansel had and the slight evidence of blood in Samuel's beard told her that their injuries should definitely take precedence over whatever she might need looked at.

[Samuel Longwell]

Samuel heaved, pain flashing across his chest as he hauled the other man into the saddle. Hansel let out an unearthly scream, the anguish evident in every strained decibel. They needed to get the scarred man to a doctor soon otherwise Samuel wasn't sure he would make it. But that needed to be balanced with the fact that a fall from this height would significantly reduce Hansel's chances of survival. “Hold tight.” Samuel said, and then they were off. The large man pushed his mount into a canter, skipping the bumpy trot in favour of the faster gait. He didn't give Dan his head, knowing that Hansel was unlikely to stay in the saddle if the Tiaden galloped in the state he was in. If Samuel was honest with himself, he wasn't sure whether he was feeling up to it either. The warhorse sped towards Endrykas, a little put out by the additional weight but powered through. The Tiaden was trained to carry a knight in full plate mail, so the two men did not strain him too much. Hansel let out another cry of pain, but Samuel did not slow down until he was close to The River Flower. He had passed the large white tent several times in the past, but this was the first time he had ever rushed someone in for emergency aid. He tightened his core, pressing himself into the saddle as he pulled back slightly on the reins. Dan drew to a halt, Hansel tumbling off the horse and sinking to his knees. Samuel thudded into the dirt beside him, putting his head under the scarred man's shoulder and helping him back to his feet. “Nearly there.” Samuel said gruffly in Common, “Don't go dying now I've got you this far.” He took several staggering steps forward, supporting much of Hansel's weight, then gestured for Fiametta to join him. “Fiametta, please help. Hansel is heavy,” Samuel said, once more in Pavi. “Dan will be fine until I get back.” When they reached the tent, two strong looking Drykas realised how injured Hansel was and took him off the pair's hands. The scarred man was rushed inside to be taken care of by the doctors. Samuel sighed in relief and gingerly stepped into the tent. He explained what had happened in his halting Pavi, and the Drykas doctor started to inspect him, pressing on his chest to assess the extent of the damage.

[Konrad Venger]

He knew where he was, or roughly. He knew what was being said to him, thereabouts. He knew that he was wounded, and the healers were going to try and save him, and the squire had brought him there... and everything else was just... sliding.

Oil over water. Leaves in a breeze. Every time he blinked, reality seemed to swirl and contort, black splotches growing out of his vision at odd places. Only the grip on his sword was real.

Leather-wrapped wood. Sharp steel. A mountain range of tiny contours and dips and valleys that his hand knew so well, well enough that he'd forgotten most of them. As Konrad was laid down on the pristine white bed, turning it scarlet within a handful of chimes, he reacquainted himself.

"Nuh dyin'... hrr... nuh yet..."

They were talking above him. The healers, in their tight, sparse clothing. They didn't care if their flesh was marred with blood or viscera: that could be washed off. But he could spy the little belts they were, too, packed with gauze and blades and tiny forceps, spools of string and needles.

Something about turning him onto his belly, and before he could argue the point-

Slip and slide. The whole world turned on its axis like a dog rolling in the dirt and-

-Konrad groaned into the hard pillow loud enough to make it shake. Humid air was nipping at his back, and with it came fingers and cold metal and Konrad ground his teeth. His eyes snapped fully open. Reality and all its pain and colors besieged him yet again, pain chasing away all of the foggy frailties of his blood-spewing body.

A hand touched his shoulder. He managed to twist his head to the side, revealing the pavilion proper, not just the rugs on the floor... and the middle-aged Drykas with calm eyes and a tone that could use some work.

"Do not fall asleep, walahk."

"Tink I... dun'... petchin' nuh' dat?"

Nehrar knew better than to try and take the man's sword. Even a casual look at his body told him this was one who made his way through steel and conflict; who knows what his fevered mind would do if he tried to rob him of that means? Instead he started rattling off orders, perusing the wound at his back, apparently the only one he had sustained fighting... whatever it was.

One was enough, apparently.

They bustled around Konrad like bees around their queen, so determined to stop the bleeding, clean the wound, staunch it, wrap it... and he cared nothing for any of them. He was too tired to speak now, mouth to dry. He only remembered the hand that dragged him onto the horse, the words in Common much like his own as he'd lurched like a mummer's drunk into the tent.

Konrad was as far from a Knight of Syliras as one could imagine. But he did have rules. Standards. Scarce and esoteric, but there they were, moderating him as much as one as he could be.

He remembered the face, and the name. The debt he now owed, and assigned to them.

Now stay awake and try not to scream too much.

Pure alcohol sizzled over and around and into the gash, and Konrad bit down on the pillow.

[Fiametta]

Fiametta watched Samuel's naturally strong composition. Even when pained, the Sylirian Knight held himself with pride and grace. This was something slightly foreign to the Drykas girl. Being brought up her entire life among the horseclans, she knew mostly the rough and necessary life on the Sea of Grass. For Samuel to hold onto the honor he constantly exhibited was...intriguing.

When Samuel explained what had happened out there, Fiametta walked out of the tent briefly to check on the horses and to rummage through her yvas bags. She took her waterksin and poured it over her ankle to clean the drying blood off. That was pretty much the extent of her medical knowledge, but she wanted to let the healers focus on the men, who needed the attention much more then she did.

She walked back inside and saw one of the doctors pressing on Samuel's chest. He was clearly in pain, but he was fighting it and clearly winning. Hansel, on the other hand, was in agony and unafraid to show it. The man's blood was staining everything he touched, including the doctors.

One of the Drykas saw her leg and had her sit. They wrapped it quickly and skillfully, the girl studying their every movement for emergencies in the future. When they were finished, she nodded to them thankfully, and they turned their attention to the other two. Fiametta walked around Samuel, giving him a gentle smile and unconsciously touching her hand to his shoulder as she passed.

She made her way over to Hansel, who seemed to be passing in and out of true consciousness. The only thing she really expected out of the scarred man was that he never let go of that sword. If he could, Hansel would be that geht voune to challenge death to a duel - and he would win. Kneeling down near the head of the bed and making sure to stay out of the way of the healers, Fiametta placed her hand on Hansel's arm. He was shaking from the blood loss. No shock there.

She looked at the nasty gash across Hansel's back, then turned her gaze to Samuel. "Just one more for his collection," she said, signing wound to the knight.

[Samuel Longwell]

“I think your ribs are just bruised, there doesn't seem to be a break.” the doctor said as she wrapped Samuel's chest in fresh white bandages. “But you'll need to rest, otherwise your recovery will be long and painful.” She signed important, listen. “You will have to restrict yourself to verbal teaching for the next ten days. Physical exercise should be approached with caution.”

Samuel was always surprised at how many Drykas knew what he did for a living, but he recognised that in such an interconnected community he had probably taught one of her relatives or perhaps a close family friend. He had been around for over a season now, plenty of time to develop a reputation. After all, it was uncommon for a non-Drykas to be given a position of responsibility as he had. Samuel guessed that the fact he was a knight and that he could speak Pavi passably well were the only reasons he had been allowed to teach.

“You will need to re-wrap your chest every four days, in the way I have shown you.” she continued. She signed understand, to which Samuel nodded and returned the sign. “Good, now you'll need to come and help out with some menial tasks as payment when you have the time. I take it we won't have a problem with you running off?”

“No, I will come.” Samuel replied simply, pushing himself gingerly to his feet. He inclined his head respectively to the doctor. “Thank you Walot.” She gave a curt nod in return.

It seemed Fiametta had been hurt in the fight, Samuel had not noticed her injury due to the severity of Hansel's own. He returned her smile warmly, then watched as she knelt by Hansel's side. It seemed that the scarred man would survive, the bleeding had slowed and the doctors were no longer as frantic as when Hansel had been dragged in. Samuel nodded at Fiametta's words, such a wound would doubtless scar. Another declaration of Hansel's triumph against death. Another page of the man's brutal history carved into his skin. Samuel subconsciously rubbed his own back, feeling the scar he had gained on the day that he had lost so much. Tears welled up unannounced, a sudden surge of sadness overtaking the large man.

“Goodbye Fiametta. Hansel.” Samuel said, turning away and signing farewell. “May we meet again under better skies. I have business to attend to.” It was not a lie, he told himself as he walked away. He had to feed the dogs. And make sure Dan had not been hurt in the fight. But he knew the real reason he couldn't stay another moment in that tent. He didn't want all the people in there to see his weakness.

Many thanks to Prophet for the box code.

[Samuel Longwell]

Grading Complete Please edit your grade request thread so that it's obvious that it's been graded. Feel free to PM me if you have any questions/problems with your grade. Name: Konrad XP Award: Kopis 3 Kukri 3 Brawling 3 Reimancy 1 Endurance 5 Dual Wielding 2 Tactics 2 Lore: Even Yukmen fear fire. Tactics: Taking advantage of distracted enemies Fighting a huge petchin' Yukman Samuel: Wouldn't save Konrad if he knew what he'd done. Self: Owes Samuel a debt. Injuries: Konrad will have a long scar on his back, and every morning when he wakes he will feel a tightness in his back that will fade as the day goes on. Bed ridden for 9 days. Name: Samuel XP Award: Trapping 1 Wilderness Survival 1 Observation 1 Riding 3 Longsword 3 Shortbow 1 Dagger 1 Endurance 3 Tactics 2 Unarmed Combat 1 Socialisation 1 Medicine 1 Lore: Trapping: Getting a noose to hang at the correct height. Tactics: Utilising greater mobility. Dan: Eventually instinct trumps conditioning Honour means helping even those you don't like. Hansel: Took severe injuries while fighting Yukmen. Injuries: Bruised ribs, restricted mobility for 20 days. Notes: I really enjoyed this thread. Konrad, you sure do know how to write violence. I've given you a grade as you can afford your expenses for the season, so if/when you come back make sure you pay them. Fiametta, if you come back and sort out your expenses then let me know and I'll grade this for you!