Thread: A Knight's Tale (SevenRose/Fun_And_Games)

Elizabeth Aldair rode confidently and proudly into the camp. She was not well received. She would not know it. After all, those who were angry and muttering about something usually didn't do so openly, preferring to sound out the others around them to ensure they were not alone. And it was not a universal dislike. For instance, there was one fully fledged knight who looked over from where he was sampling the pull on a new bow as she rode by, following the flow of her hair and already seeing more poetry to be made over the strange beauty of seeing a proud woman on a fine horse. There was a squire, looking up from digging rocks out of the horseshoes on one of the knights' principle mounts, who choked on a dry mouth...not about to laugh or bark angrily...but rather knowing he was out of his league with her. He thought he wouldn't have to deal with THIS since leaving home... the servant girls around the camp, he was allowed to order them about, and he would never dare go into the whoring tents yet. Now...a woman like that? So...unfair...he was doomed... But those were the exceptions. By far, dark looks and unhappy grumbles followed her as she rode through the camp. Who was she? Who did she THINK she was? In what way did this seem like a place to play soldier? They had just gone through hell during the last wars, many of them now veterans of battle a dozen times over. Had seen their friends die. Many of them had NOT died because of the people next to them, and if any were even a little weaker, many more would have died. Now...they were letting a woman in? Those were the typical noise and complaints...and there was more than a few of them. Some were merely gripes, ready to harass her until she was one. A couple others...well, Sagaris was their leader who set a noble example, but he wasn't on every raid, and more than a few innocent women had been victim to the hunger of the darker few in the group. But all of that would be all but invisible to her as she rode through in all her eagerness. There was a clear trail left down the middle of the large camp, hard to miss where you were expected to ride in order to find things. In the group, there were 8 knights, 14 squires to serve them...now 15. In addition to that, there was a withdrawn tent, set back a ways from the main group which she would learn soon enough contained the resident sorcerer and his two apprentices. Then, there was a set of servant tents. A total of 10, a mix of men and women who took care of the cooking and washing of clothes...any task that was too low even for the squires to handle. There was also a set of a weaponsmith, an armorer, a bowyer and a blacksmith for the horses and other metal work. There was a leather worker and a woodcarver for spears and tent pegs and the like. There was also a beer brewer...of course. not vintner, showing they didn't have THAT much class, though they had a wine cask or two. There was also a couple of trainers...the knights taught the squires much, but an expert sword master was there as well as a master archer to hone the skills of the knights as well. Lastly, there were the Unspoken. A total of about 10...rarely spoken to, even more rarely seen walking about. They were the ones who did the tasks no one even wanted to openly discuss as necessary. The ones who would dig graves and recover lost items from corpses after the battle 2, there were two latrine masters who emptied the bedpans and shoveled the...well, the horse remains 2, the healers who tied up their wounds and hopefully prevented them from ending up in those graves 2 and finally the four whores kept for the pleasure of the men. It was a fairly typical sized camp, though perhaps a little on the larger side, mostly because of the good reputation of Sagaris who drew squires wanting to claim they had been raised under his tutelage. The camp was rugged, still a travelling camp that could and WOULD be uprooted on a fairly regular basis. When knights were not at war, they were often hired on as law enforcement by local nobles, and tended to rove as they looked for bandits and others outlaws. It was also for the simple practice of breaking down the camp and setting it back up again in good order, a necessary requirement when they were off to war. Each of the knights had their own tent, and those were gathered right along the side of the trail through the camp, with quite a bit of space around it to give some privacy and to stack the knight's personal equipment. Between the knights, there was a tent which four squires could live in...three per side, meaning they could hold a total of 24 squires at full strength. It meant there would be a little bit of extra space. The tents for all the others were scattered further out, or nearer the edges of the camp, specially the trademen whose loud hobbies kept them a little further away so they didn't raise all sorts of hell when others might be trying to have a word. There was a set of stables inside a fenced yard at the edge of the camp, where the horses all stayed away from the bustle of the inner camp. At the center of the camp, there was the dining cookfire area. A central fire was where they got the food, and then some scattered warm-fires around to eat around, each one populated by cliques of the different sorts...knights, squires, tradesmen, servants...and they rarely seemed to mix. Only the Unspoken had no fire. One of their kind slipped in, got enough food for all, then retreated to eat alone somewhere else. Then, right next to the cookfire area was the central tent...Sagaris's tent. It was large, and could double as a war-room as well as his living space. This was the controlled chaos into which Elizabeth rode...a little lost... And gave one of the less than pleased sorts his chance to start in on her early. His shaven head revealed several ugly scars he had gained from a fight with something decidedly non-human...some claimed a troll, while others thought a fire-drake. He never said. He growled more than spoke, and even his so-called friends often felt his gaze was rough and more likely to provoke a fight than comradery. But he was good at what he did. Z'Avar He stepped up into Elizabeth's way, scowling and jerking a hand into her field of vision, making her horse shy away from the suddenly, purposefully violent looking gesture. What are ya, DAFT, girl? Horses don't enter the camp so we don't get shit all over the ground and broken pots from their prancing. Don't you see the others in that fenced off area? Don't care if ye be travelling or here as the new meat in the whore tents. Get that horse-flesh into the pens now!