Hondscioh pushed the door of the inn open, advanced a good step forth to better the see his new landsmen. Afterwards he removed his hood. His fiery flowing hair fell, wet and greasy as if he had that hood on for much too long a time. He removed a glove and rubbed his tired eyes.
Hondscioh advanced forth with long, firm strides. The hair was long, crimson in hue and tangled as the shrugs he often found himself clambering through. His clothes were a tattered mess of skins and rabbit hides, stitched together with as much skill as he could manage on his own around his byrnie, ring-shirt. His boots and vest were packed with dried grasses, but despite this he shivered.
Awilred looked up at the man who approached, with his moustache and long red hair, taking quiet note before lifting his mug to his mouth for a drink.
''I'll have your best mead, good man.''
Hondscioh spared a glance over hooded man, sniffing like a dog as he gazed. Then his eyes swung to the tavern-keep, giving the man a good-naturedly wink he made a half crooked-grin. ''G'day.'' the words laced with the fatigue of recent days. The man was weary, anyone who took a moment to spare him some gazes would see that, or read that from his visage.
Awilred said, 'Seems you've been a long road to get here.'
Hondscioh gave a deep nod ''Aye. Long long road.'' he paused, quirking a brow ''Wouldn't call that a road by Helm's beard.''
Awilred said, 'mh, no I guess not, unusual weather as it is here for the time year.' He put down his mug on the counter and flexed his right hand open and closed out of habit more than anything.
Cynebur joined by the fire and warms her hands a little before saying to barkeeper "Mead, good man."
Awilred said, 'I'll pay for her drink, seeing as I owe her it.'
Hondscioh would then rest his green wood buckler near the counter. His drink was served, he received the tankard and gave a short, studying look at that. He then turned to Awilred, he couldn't give a proper thought to man's sound words. Now feeling a need to introduce himself, he held his gaze ''Hondscioh is my name. We come from Eorlsmead with a war-band, and a small host of ceorl.''
Awilred said, 'Wil... just Wil.' He pulled back his hood as it would now become rude to keep his face obscured.
Hondscioh arched a quick fiery brow at this ''Just Wil? -- Not a lame blood-mighty, eh? I'd owe much to know your trade... Wil.'' the man nodded and gave a strong, daring smile.
''Ah, Cynebur. I didn't see ya were here.''
Awilred said, 'Horse trader and breeder, though not while I am here.'
Cynebur looked toward two men. Recognising Hond as one of her own, she smiled warmly but then gave out a nod to other man.
Awilred nodded back, raised his mug to his mouth again.
Hondscioh struggled to gaze between them, then his gaze found Awilred once again. ''Splendid business. What we live by, eh.'' he agreed with himself ''Yeahh, would not be much easy to do it here... Land itself is too mountaineous for tha'.''
Awilred says, 'Aye, you fight for a living then?'
Hondscioh received his drink finally, trading a few words of complaint with the mead-server for he was way too late. -- Lifting the tankard, he took a long, goodly swig from the honey mead, wiping his mouth with a -wild- nature of his. ''In a sense, what we all do, no?'' he stole the man a meaningful glance.
'But yes. I'm a warrior in Régnwald's war-band.'
Awilred said, 'hmm...' looking down at his mug and fidgeted with his glove
Awilred said, 'Been a long time since I've been in the fight. But needs must I guess.'
'We /all/ must, fréond. I would tell ya about the massacre in Stangard, but there's too much to tell than a moment can spare. I shall leave and talk to my earl once this mead fills my belly.'
Awilred said, 'Understandable, I would like to hear the report myself... for my own interests as they are. But after your lord has no further need of you, of course.'
Hondscioh drank deeply of the chipped wooden tankard, just stopping himself from cuffing wet lips against his chest clad in repaired chain-mail. Licking them instead, he set the vessel down, bowing his head as he did. ''Aye, and I'd owe much to hear about the things and rumours in Forlaw myself.''
Awilred said, 'For that you would need to ask someone else, I am not a resident of here.'
The Eorling's pale eyes raised from the meagre drink that rested on the counter. ''Aye.''
Awilred scratched his chin through his beard, remarkably well kept, like most of his attire, but a few worn patches here and there showed it has been worn often. He said, 'I'd be interested in meeting your lord at some point as well, but I am in no rush for such things.'
He then waved an idle hand to indicate the unimportance in his request.
Hondscioh finished the nicely brewed honey mead, setting the tankard down on the wood counter. He would slide across a piece of copper. He then ran a hand across his chin like the man beside him, touching the unruly fiery beard of his. That might need a shaving, he thought. Then the words of the man re-established his interest ''You should. He's a good, and honest man, and his horse too might need some care. It appears, he might be busy in these days. He waits for Gárwig Thane to receive us as audience to his hall, but that may not be today.'
Awilred said, 'I am in no rush as of yet, so I shall be here a while.'
Nodded Hondscioh and said 'Well, then. I shall take my leave. Ēadig, þec tō mētenne.' he headed for the door.
Awilred subconciously flexed the fingers on his right hand again, looking up to his current drinking companion with a nod. ''Don't forget your shield!''
That moment, the Eorling of fiery hair cursed himself many a good times since where he came, forgetting your weapons and war-gear was seen a disgrace. He took his shield, and spared the man a nod in thanks, leaving the warm inn thereafter.
