Returning victorious? (Day 2 Mid Evening)

[Derrick]

It had been a odd sort of day for the young solider and after the fist fight in the common area he made his way back to the Algoods Compound. He was favoring his right side a little as he walked into the camp and looked for a place by the fire to take a seat for a while. He needed a bit of a break, and maybe a few ales.

Ok... Maybe more then a few ales.

[Martin Tremaine]

Martin was walking from place to place in the compound, walking it as one might walk a patrol route. He rattled lightly as he walks, clearly wearing his armor.

Reaching the fire, he paused a moment, before bending down to toss another log on it, giving Derrick a nod of acknowledgement as he did so. He paused again, noting the way the young man favored his side.

"Derrick right? Had a rough day?" His voice is deep and low, and mildly curious. They'd met before, although not often, and while Martin had earned the right to put a 'Ser' in front of his name, that didn't make his position in the household greater.

[Derrick]

"Ah... A bit of one, Ser. Nothing that won't heal in a day or two at most though." He stood straight and offered the older man a stiff and obviously painful bow in greeting. Similar status or not, Derrick was still a commoner after all. "Just ended up on the wrong side of a vicious punch."

[Martin Tremaine]

Martin waved a hand grimacing. "No, don't get up on my account." He settled into a place by the fire, arms crossed in front of his chest.

His gaze grew more interested. "Really? A punch? Well, that brings up a few other questions." He looked thoughtful for a moment, before his lips curled up just a little. "What does the other fellow look like?" Derrick looked like he could hold his own.

[Derrick]

Derrick settled back into his seat, moving really wasn't very comfortable at the moment. "There are at least a couple worse off then me." He offered in reply.

"There was a bit of a brawl down by the bottom of the barrel." He frowned a bit. "I probably shouldn't of gotten involved."

[Martin Tremaine]

"Good, that's good." Martin said, although his brows drew closer together. "And you're still walking."

His frown deepened as Derrick went on. "A brawl, was it? I see." He leaned forward, hands coming to rest on his knees instead. "What happened, exactly?"

[Derrick]

The young man smirked stretching his arms towards the fire. "My dad always said I had a hard head like that. Though I likely should of been a bit more careful all things considered."

"Mmm... Some serving girl soaked a big bear of a man with a bunch of ale, and he got angry yelled at her a bit. Seemed like the whole crowd had it in for him after that. Yelling at him, then picking a fight. Didn't seem quite right, but I figure both sides were a bit at fault. I wasn't going to join, then I saw a little northern girl I met yesterday get dragged into the mess. So I went in to try and get her out."

"Never managed to find her though, and somewhere along the line I got more involved in the fight then I wanted."

[Martin Tremaine]

"Aye?" Martin chuckled. "Guess that's why it's your ribs that ache, and not your head. Maybe you should stick that in the way next time." He teased in a good-natured way.

"Oh." The frown faded. "Well, brawls tend to spill out and pull in bystanders, even if they don't intend on being a part of it." He gave a wry smile. "In my unfortunately considerable experience." He frowned again, lines standing out on his face. "But a girl, you say? Sounds like you did the right thing, then. Was no one else looking out for her?"

[Derrick]

"You might be right." He certainly couldn't end up any worse for trying that. "Though it might be wiser to try to avoid brawls altogether." At the moment that seemed like a much better idea.

"Not that I noticed." Derrick replied a frown making it's way onto his lips as well. "I hope there was though, there were a few rather large men in the mix there and she could of gotten hurt rather badly if someone didn't pull her out." Maybe he should try and find her tomorrow and see if she was alright.

[Martin Tremaine]

"Mmm. Wise." Martin nodded. "Fight when it's right, but you won't be killed by a fight you weren't in." Goodness, he sounded old when he talked like this. And he wasn't entirely sure it was correct.

"Huh. Bastards." He muttered, shaking his head. "Hopefully someone did, at that." He is silent for a few moments, looking at the fire.

"Are you taking part in the tourney?" He asked suddenly, if still casually.

[Derrick]

"Aye... that's a good word for them." Derrick agreed with a nod. Course some of the other side would likely accuse him of beign a bastard as well.

"The jousting and all that?" The younger man shook his head. He was a commoner not a knight after all. "I'm not a knight, and even if they allow it after I did well earlier today, I don't think it will be looked on all that kindly if I join."

[Martin Tremaine]

"Maybe." Martin shrugged. "On the other hand, you've earned the right with your performance today. It's not just nobles who become knights, you know. Sometimes it's just good folk in the right place at the right time."

He shrugged again, staring at the fire.

[Derrick]

"You likely know more about that then me, I don't really know thing one about being a knight after all." He really didn't well other then the fighting part. "I hear you have some code you have to live by and all of that? Chivalry?" He'd heard the word used but never done much looking into it.

It was likely nearly as silly as jousting.