Awilred spoke ''You called for me?''
The sudden warmth of the last few days had ebbed. The expectation of renewed winter hardened Régnwald's resolve. The sound of clinking iron nets heralded the Horselord's arrival till he stood near the man, glancing a beat. ''Yes, my byrnie is battered and worn, It needs a good smith's wit for the repair.'' he let his head hang for a moment, eyeing the man as his words sunk in.
Awilred said, ''Very well, though depending on the condition of it I cannot say it will not need replaced entirely.'' then shrugged slightly ''As fond as people are of clothing, or armour in this case, sometimes they are just beyond repair.''
Régnwald lowered his gaze for a few moments, and bowed his head, a hand resting on his sword's hilt as he straightened some. ''Yes, it would surprise me otherwise.'' he gave a brief, studying look on his war-net with what seemed like a friendly shrug. ''I'm guessing there's no need to spake more words to ask you do yer best, eh.'' a light smile cracked in his lips chafed from cold.
Awilred went to take it, his demeanor about as cold as the air today. He gave it a brief look over and his lips flattened into a straight line. ''How quickly do you need this back?''
Régnwald gazed aside, pursing the lips, the bearded chin jutted out ''I'm not in a hurry.'' he answered, stepping back as the exchange was made ''We are not allowed the leave the village, Reeve's orders.'' head cocked to the side with a quickly drawn breath, heralding the sound of resignation on his part.
''Would ye like the payment now, or we can get inside? I've some other errands in the crafting hall.''
Awilred said, 'Yes I am aware of the Reeve's ruling, I was there when he passed it down. It'll take me a day at least to identify the problems and decide if a repair is worth the time and effort... As I said, I offer my services without need of monetary repayment' he waved his arm in the direction of the crafting hall, not keen on being in the cold himself.
Régnwald listened with a narrowed gaze, golden brows of the earl crossing keenly. And his eyes held the man's gaze ''I cannot accept that..'' his gaze was swung to the wood door of the building then. He would stride over to the gates with his long, heavy steps.
Awilred said, 'I have already taken repayment, as insufficient to my needs as it was, it has been taken.' he pulled down his hood.
Régnwald advanced a few steps, not hearing the man's statement, mayhap ignoring? Pursing his lips, he offered only a nod to the craftsmen around the large hall, green eyes roaming over the marks of their work intently.
Awilred sat down, removing his gloves, which in itself is a bit of a process, revealing severely burn scarred hands, particularly on the right, it's movement still a little sluggish from the cold, he picks up the armour and gives a dermal inspection
The leader of the war-band slowed his pace to a halt, standing tall and looking over the war-net woven by the wit of the smiths in Folde in days long sped. He studied the byrnie, battered and worn, patched with few animal hides in some of its parts. He stepped closer, a solemn gaze matching the eorling's habitual stoic self. ''Very bad, eh?'' he spoke lowly though as if not wanting to be corrected.
Awilred said, 'Should have had it fixed a lot sooner than now, that much is certain.'
Régnwald flexed his arms slowly, a crooked-smirk cracked in his scarred, bearded features. ''We were on the road. In truth, still amazed to be alive..'' he held his gaze ''What else could be made?''
Awilred asked, 'Ever thought of going heavier, or lighter with it?' he made a quick visual inspection for weak links, excluding the parts repaired with hide.
Régnwald lifted both his brows faintly before asking "How do you mean?'' he paused, nodding ''Well, more shaken than anything else I believe.''
Awilred explained, 'I mean have you thought about moving from rings to plate, or the other way to leather. Though this is mostly leather now it seems.'
''I've tried to fix it whole, but the nets' links weren't as good, disturbing my balance. -- Thou have to move quick, so light's better. No, never thought of going heavy at these times.''
Awilred said, 'Mh, heavy is certainly better when you're in a fight against many, but if you're one on one I'd recommend something lighter. Myself I always tended toward Leather, soft if I could get it. Easier to move and can be near noiseless.'
'Light, my byrnie lets me do more freely with sword-work ...if we don't have a shower of arrows.' 'twas spoken by the earl.
Awilred watched one of the rings fall off during his inspection, he picked up the ring and looked at it closely. 'I've not been in a battle in years. So not had to deal with an arrow storm for that long either.' he chuckled.
Drawing a bench beside the man, he would sit, struggling up a faint smile as he vaguely studied the map, heavy eyes roaming over East Emnet. He'd draw in a sigh, turning his gaze to the man, smiling once more before it faded like a falling star. Staring ahead, ''Found the man you were seeking for?'' he asked, half-curiously; though not in wonder.
Awilred said, 'Been here haven't I and they are with the king's men... so you're a smart man I don't need to tell you.'
Régnwald eyed the man a beat, a small smile flickering behind his cold lips ''And I'm supposed to be a dead man, yeah? We can't be sure anyhow...'' green eyes flashed with the gravity of a point already known.
''Well death comes to everyone in the end.'' said Awilred. ''It depends on our skill and bodies to fend it off as long as possible''
The warrior leaned his chest forward, rested an arm clad-in iron on the wood table. Once sparing a brief glance at Awilred, he nodded. It seemed from his face that the warrior couldn't argue. ''Courage matters also.'' Straightening a moment, he added ''Wyrd oft saves an undoomed man when his courage is good.''
Awilred said, 'Often found courage is a mixture of fear and anger.'
Régnwald remained silent a long time at that, finally looking up to match the red-haired eorling's gaze. The smile remained a sombre one, just the corner of his lip curling into a half smile. Blowing air through his cheeks, his head cocked to the side ''Fear has its place.'' he would bespake in a whisper.
The smith said, 'It is a necessary evil for survival, it prompts caution and prudence. But of course it should never overwhelm a person.'
The warrior agreed ''Yeah..'' gazing at his armoured feet that swayed slightly from the edge of the wooden bench, his sword Nægling hanging loose from his leather belt.
Awilred asked, 'So where will your band go next?'
The warrior would after a long while, rise tall, ''If we pass the winter, we will head for East Emnet, by Béma's will.'' the words were spoken after a quickly drawn breath. The clinking armour sounds heralded the resignation on his part. ''I shall take my leave now. A few errands waiting my appointment. I'll repay ye in full, when you're done with your work -- Till then, fréond, ferþu hal.''
The smith said, 'Aye, I'll tell you by tomorrow what I intend to do with this'
After a short pause the Horselord offered a last, contented nod, striding toward the exit thereafter.
