Ash's grip on the pommel remained at first, his gaze becoming unfocused as the young lord drew his sword, and called him a whoreson. Ash wasn't even staring at him. Nor at Gregar. He was staring through them, as if he was trying to ascertain some kind of intrinsic reality in the horizon. He knew how tense the situation was. He knew a single bad step could get him killed. Or the fact he had to cut all those men. But... his heart had stopped showing feelings already on the countless battlefields, and this was just one more. At times like this, Ash was more a soulless wight than man.

Finally, he did release the grip of the weapon, as his gaze focused once more. [b]"No need for apologies, m'lord. He was just defending your lordship, as any good kin of you would."[/b] And then Gregar kept elaborating, remarking his reluctancy to bring violence in the mess hall. Just what Ash [i]was betting on with his own life.[/i] As any man weary of the battle and aspiring lord would, Gregar seemed to read the situation perfectly. Ash's careful posturing was going to make him like as if he had the power of making dangerous men stop in their tracks with his voice alone. [b]"There is wisdom in your words, m'lord. Wisdom bitterly earned with the bloodshed of war."[/b]

He then paused, staring at the musings of his lord. [i]I don't need anyone to tell me how absolutely much I am regretting having headed north now.[/i] He conceded. [b]"It wasn't a decision made by the head, but by the heart."[/b] He paused. [b]"I wasn't always the Knightslayer. Before being skilled at arms, I was skilled in other things."[/b] He then carefully picked three apples from a nearby table, and in front of everyone, started to skillfully juggle them. His speech wasn't hampered in the slightlest.[b]"I was raised by a wandering troupe, whom my mother gave me away when I was young. They all were good, honest people. They knew I had some wits, so they taught me things. Like storytelling, some minor tricks, and healing arts. But, I was still young, and impetuous. I did want to be like the heroes of the stories i told. But I squandered my gift, by becoming a mercenary."[/b] He paused, catching the apples and leaving them on the table.

[b]"I scoured battlefields for more than a decade, feeling each time more emptier and lost than before. I once thought battle was glorious, now I know otherwise. [i]No gloriae suae in bello[/i]. There's no glory in War. Hopelessly lost, I decided to go back to the source, where I was born. Perhaps here, even if I have many opponents, I'll find my way."[/b] He finished. [b]"And that is the reason. That and some rather pushy guards, a blizzard and a bounty I've come claim on two highwaymen."[/b]

[hr]

Brier wasn't feeling so well. Kneeling in the latrine, she was arched considerably. Had she had eaten any food, no doubt the gagging and stomach churning would've expelled it with haste. Tears rolled down her cheeks, as she could only sob as quietly as possible, hoping the servants and bannermen who were downstairs in the hall didn't take notice of her.

[b]"How could they. My little Brian. He wasn't even 3..."[/b] She managed to piece together, between tears and sniffles. And then a voice asked her from behind the door. A woman, trying to be gentle and sweet.

[i]Damn Servants, can't leave one woman alone to have a moment of solitude and mourning.[/i] Wiping her tears and snot with the underside of a sleeve, she straightened herself, and opened the door.

[b]"YOU."[/b] She said, her teeth clenched with latent hostility.[b]"...start preparing a hot bath. I could use one."[/b] She finally calmed, getting a grip in the situation. [b]"And say me your name."[/b]

[i]"Lidia M'lady."[/i] The other woman replied.

So, this was the servant they had assigned to her. [b]"Well then, Lidia, go fetch the water and prepare the bath. I'll be visiting my mother."[/b] She clenched a fist as she began hurriedly to walk along the corridor. [b]"I do not have to idle. She needs me. All of them need me."[/b] The middle girl of the Weades said, and prepared to enter her own mother's room.

[i]Don't crumble, Kitty. No matter what wrong you see in mother, Do.Not.Crumble.[/i]