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Scyrr
The day had already started quite badly. As if anything better could have been expected in Scyrr's opinion. This forsaken place, which he was forced to accept as his temporary home, or Valar forbid, as a place of longer stay, has this far done only its worst to show its quality and it was getting worse and worse. The barracks were small and soldiers were literally lying on top of each other. Scyrr remembered having to push away somebody's boot which was too close to his face in the morning. When he came outside, he realised that it was a disgusting cold morning with an unhealthy smell of wet air, no doubt coming from nearby marshes, which surely had to be full of midges. He also felt he had not had enough sleep, and his head felt a bit heavy - he'd maybe had a few drinks too much yesterday evening.
In any case, maybe if he had known which way the morning's events were going to unfold, he would not have decided to go down to the stream. Not that he was too happy to share this trip with the two women either. The old cow from the kitchen was not his favourite company, and even the pretty young blonde did not seem to respond very keenly to his, albeit not very complex, attempts for conversation.
But then the fool appeared with his stinking business - and Scyrr just could not ignore him. Maybe there was a bit of a wish to show himself in front of the young woman (and the old cow), but there was also the annoyance and the wish to just kick some of those fools responsible for his current situation - as he saw it - in other words, one of the builders of this thatched barn calling itself a Hall, one of these simpletons living in the middle of nowhere and looking at him, a soldier from Edoras, as if he was the stupid one. They surely could not even count up to ten. And when Erbrand dared to lecture him with his clever speech, Scyrr just had to teach him proper respect. What happened after that he somehow lost the track of - too late he had realised that things have gotten out of hand.
Blackness seemed to be appearing in front of Scyrr's eyes as he was half-dragged by Ginna and Frodides back to the Mead Hall. He was in a weird state, somehow only half-aware of what was happening. His breathing was still irregular and only when they have laid him down on an empty cart in front of one of the buildings, he started to properly acknowledge his surroundings.
He could see some people moving closer to him from across the courtyard, but the two women have disappeared somewhere, probably to bring help or to call some officer - maybe even Coen or Athanar. That thought made Scyrr's mind clear for a moment. Really they'd better bring somebody of authority - whatever it was that the plaguy stinking fool has done to me, he will pay for this, he thought.
Scyrr would not let himself think that it was in any way his fault that the fight had started. He was also convinced that the two women will see it similarly and prove that in their testimony, if needed - after all, it was Erbrand who had attacked first, not Scyrr.
He would not think about it much, however. A start of pain shot through him. Suddenly he felt sick in the stomach. Whether it was just another reaction of his body to the fight, some false projection of the pain or a late outcome of yesterday's drinking, Scyrr could not know. Again his sight seemed to darken at times. Where did all this terrible pain come from? He managed to concentrate so that his sight got cleared for a while and he looked down at his own body. It took some time to realise that it was his left leg which lay somehow strangely on the cart. Did... did the fool actually break my leg? Scyrr thought with horror. Did he make a cripple out of me?
If it is so, I am going to beat the living breath out of him!
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