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Durelin · 10-17-2011, 03:42 PM

Tyrdda

Tyrdda laughed. “You have some very nice manners for a rider! I can’t say I have too much of a hand in making the food, but I’ll tell cook he’s fit for a fine hall.”

She put down the bucket and strolled a little toward the man, glad to have a distraction from her work. “A little tense in there, huh?” she jerked her thumb toward the hall. “Not nearly as bad as that first feast when the new lord came. I hope no one makes quite so much a fool of themselves. Drawing a spear in a lord’s hall! Could have been a much worse outcome to that, I tell you.”

~*~

Coenred

Coen quietly thanked Baldwic for taking Scyrr out before heading back to the riders’ table. He felt so weary, as if he were twenty years older or more. How long had he been captain at this hall? It already seemed like a lifetime, and that he had worn out his days as a warrior and a leader, that it was time to pass the position on to someone else.

It was all this…maneuvering. For a small hall, Scarburg had its lion’s share of schemers and troublemakers. Scyrr could be a rabble rouser with his tongue, but he had not quite been the same, not since the fight with Erbrand. Coen imagined Scyrr still felt shamed for that, and a shamed man was much more likely to stir things up to prove himself. And that was precisely why he had not dragged Scyrr from the hall, or ordered him a punishment in front of the men he had been arguing with, or the entire hall… The Lady Saeryn needed to learn a good bit more about men before she went around shoving their noses in their messes like dogs.

Coen sighed and tried to physically shake off his anger. Perhaps he was being no better a dog himself, feeling that his territory had been trespassed. He sat down at the riders’ table. Faerghall turned to him with a sympathetic smile. “A long evening already, eh captain?”

“Truly.” He looked down along the table. No one seemed much bothered by the events passed, thankfully. He hoped that the men, whether old or new to Scarburg, had gotten to know Scyrr enough by now to know he was not a cruel man. No, not patient or kind, but to expect that from a warrior, and a fairly young one at that, was foolish. “You all being well-fed tonight?” he asked, forcing a smile. “Well, don’t get used to it,” he added jestingly.

10-17-2011, 03:42 PM	#1191
Durelin Estelo dagnir, Melo ring Join Date: Oct 2002 Posts: 3,063	Tyrdda Tyrdda laughed. “You have some very nice manners for a rider! I can’t say I have too much of a hand in making the food, but I’ll tell cook he’s fit for a fine hall.” She put down the bucket and strolled a little toward the man, glad to have a distraction from her work. “A little tense in there, huh?” she jerked her thumb toward the hall. “Not nearly as bad as that first feast when the new lord came. I hope no one makes quite so much a fool of themselves. Drawing a spear in a lord’s hall! Could have been a much worse outcome to that, I tell you.” ~~ Coenred* Coen quietly thanked Baldwic for taking Scyrr out before heading back to the riders’ table. He felt so weary, as if he were twenty years older or more. How long had he been captain at this hall? It already seemed like a lifetime, and that he had worn out his days as a warrior and a leader, that it was time to pass the position on to someone else. It was all this…maneuvering. For a small hall, Scarburg had its lion’s share of schemers and troublemakers. Scyrr could be a rabble rouser with his tongue, but he had not quite been the same, not since the fight with Erbrand. Coen imagined Scyrr still felt shamed for that, and a shamed man was much more likely to stir things up to prove himself. And that was precisely why he had not dragged Scyrr from the hall, or ordered him a punishment in front of the men he had been arguing with, or the entire hall… The Lady Saeryn needed to learn a good bit more about men before she went around shoving their noses in their messes like dogs. Coen sighed and tried to physically shake off his anger. Perhaps he was being no better a dog himself, feeling that his territory had been trespassed. He sat down at the riders’ table. Faerghall turned to him with a sympathetic smile. “A long evening already, eh captain?” “Truly.” He looked down along the table. No one seemed much bothered by the events passed, thankfully. He hoped that the men, whether old or new to Scarburg, had gotten to know Scyrr enough by now to know he was not a cruel man. No, not patient or kind, but to expect that from a warrior, and a fairly young one at that, was foolish. “You all being well-fed tonight?” he asked, forcing a smile. “Well, don’t get used to it,” he added jestingly.