Reunion

[GM Craig]

You arrive at your camp, and find things orderly and disciplined. As you approach, one of the sentries calls out a warning and you see Haydn emerge from your tent. He recognizes you immediately.

"My lord!" The rest of the camp starts to stir at this, and in short order several of your soldiers have formed a half circle around you and Haydn. "What miracle brings you back to us?"

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn clapped Haydn on the shoulders

"I'm not entirely sure myself, Haydn, but it is a miracle nonetheless. How fare the men in my absence?" His men were first on his mind. It was important they be taken care of.

[GM Craig]

Haydn glances at them. "They are in good order. We have some in the sick tent. Four of those I do not expect to see home again. The others should recover in time for the harvest.

Haydn looks a little concerned. "My lord, perhaps a change of clothing is in order? Forgive me, but you look a sight."

You are still wearing your prisoner's rags.

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn nodded. It was a shame but couldn't be helped.

"Has a priest attended them and offered God's comfort?"

Upon being called 'My Lord,' Cedwyn noted, "I'm honored by the courtesy Haydn, but it is far more proper to call me 'Sir.' I bear no lordly title, my young companion," he noted with a small smile, continuing, "But even though I am a sight, I would rather see to those in the sick tent. They have served faithfully and while I cannot heal them of their ailments, they deserve my respect and my presence."

[GM Craig]

Haydn looks confused. "Sir Cedwyn. I will address you however you wish, but you elevate me to a peerage I cannot claim. Though I pray to become one some day, I am no knight - just a lowly squire. And as lord of Winterbourne Stoke, and a vassal knight of Count Rodric, you are the lord of the men who follow you. Addressing you as 'My lord' is right and proper."

Addressing your first comment, he said, "The priests have been too busy tending to others of more stature. None have had the time to tend to your men."

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn gave Haydn a smile, "Caught by mine own words, my good squire. I suppose you are correct. I would like you to find me a priest. Say I've personally requested it. It should count for something when you ask a priest to attend my men."

"In the meantime, I would see them myself."

[OOC: I'm assuming using Cedwyn's name (as a Knight of the King) might gain a little more attention. If not or he'd known it's impolite, disregard.]

[GM Craig]

Haydn looks a little uneasy. "I will ask a priest to come see you, as a King's Knight. You may need to convince them to spend their time on common soldiers. I have set up an infirmary tent. It is the red and blue tent near the stream."

With that, he bows and withdraws to carry out your errand.

[OOC: Are you going to change clothes?]

[Cedwyn]

"That is a good plan."

Cedwyn sighed and decided it would perhaps be a good plan to change clothes for the priest. Perhaps he could even get the worst of his men a prayer and layingnof te hands if he was in the sick tent when the priest came.

[GM Craig]

You make a quick change, though you are conscious that your clothes are about as threadbare as your prisoner's rags. Still, appearances and all that. It would do the men good to see you in your proper clothes.

You head out to the sick tent, conscious that you will likely need to arrange a donation to smooth the ruffled feathers of the priest when he arrives and finds out what you wish him to do.

the two guards outside the tent snap to attention as you approach and salute. It seems Haydn has done a good job of keeping things in line while you were thought missing.

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn gave a lordly nod to his men. Haydn deserved a commendation of some sort for keeping discipline this good. He'd figure that out later. For now, it was his injured and ill that concerned him.

He started to move among his men. Cedwyn made no promises about spiritual comfort as yet but he had his donative ready to smooth the ruffled feathers of the priest.

Cedwyn talked of home among those who could speak and of the harvest, keeping conversation light and to a minimum as befitting his station.