Learning the Hard Way
Summary: Lyle graciously helps heal Ravel, only to find out from Sevrin that maybe Ravel deserved what he got.
Date: May 31 2016
Related: Glass Eyes and Broken Noses.

Ravel.png .Lyle.png .Sevrin.png .

Practice Yard
As part of the training facilities of the Heroes Guild, this sprawling outdoor practice area was built to help young apprentices work on their martial and weaponry skills. The main arena is ringed with a chest height stone wall that surrounds the sand of the yard itself where students may spar. A large oak tree stands opposite the walkway from the ring surrounded by practice dummies. Leading south the path heads over the bridge to the Statue Garden. To the east is the Will training Island, the West meanders to the Archery Yard, and to the North is the gate to the Guild Woods.
May 31 1553

The training yard is filled with students taking their chances against dummies and one another. Ravel straggles in, glancing around to avoid the eyes of any adepts that might notice his late arrival, one hand tucked into his sleeve and pressed up against his face, the other wrapped around his ribs. Settling down in a quiet corner of the yard he lets his head loll back for a few precious moments, eyes sliding closed.

Lyle bounces into the yard with a gentle spring to his step. The cheerful young man looks nervously at the weapons being used and shakes his head glancing away looking to see who else is here. He spots someone he has never met before who already looks hurt. Ravel is approached cautiously with gentle steps and the young man crouches down before him. He speaks softly his voice low and soothing. "Would you like some healing? I'm not sure how much I can do but I can try at least?"

Ravel jumps a bit at the voice, head snapping back up, eyes wide above the sleeve that is stained with blood. His voice is muffled, but the overly cheerful tone is apparent through the crinkling of his eyes and raised brow, "Healing? As in taking pain away instead of bringing it? I'd trade you a glass eye, but I've already lost that bit of treasure."

Lyle peers at the injured man with a gentle gaze. A brow raises as a trade is mentioned and he just shakes his head lightly. "You don't need to give me anything in return, healing is one of the spells I'm best at and I don't like seeing people hurt either so it works out rather well. I heal the injured and get more practice plus I don't have to watch people limp around bleeding." He moves his hands closer, his eyes studying the visible wounds with focus and then his hands begin to glow with a soft white light, the damage healing with a gentle pleasant tingle of magic. He heals as much as he can and then ends the spell offering Ravel a gentle smile. "Does that feel any better?"

Ravel wiggles his nose a little, then prods at it experimentally without having to wince. "Can you make it less crooked?" he murmurs, looking a little cross-eyed. The bleeding has stopped, but that doesn't make his face any cleaner, and he seems to be breathing a little easier as he cracks a grin at Lyle, "I suppose it helps me look a little more rugged though, eh?"

That grin has Lyle blushing a little and he pulls a spare handkerchief from a pouch and begins to gently clean off the blood. "You are quite handsome yes…and the nose doesn't hurt your looks at all. It will be fine." He cleans Ravel's face gently wiping the blood away blushing faintly all the while. "If you want me to try and straighten it though I can. This is why letting people throw punches at you is dangerous you know?"

Ravel looks over the blushing Lyle curiously, lips twitching up to the side, "I wish it had been a punch. It was Sevrin's forehead. Much more solid. Punches are easier to avoid," He blinks a little, "Unless they've got you pinned." He rubs at his guts a little gingerly, and cocks an eyebrow at Lyle, "You don't get punched much, do you?"

Lyle winces at the mental image of that hit. "Ow… No wonder you got hurt." The question has him going wide eyed and he shakes his head slightly, smiling a bit now. "It’s rather obvious isn't it? Yes, I try to avoid getting punched or stabbed. It hurts and it ruins clothing not to mention the danger or your face being rearranged." He draws in a slow breath and ducks his head. "I really ought to practice more actually but it’s not something I really enjoy doing. I'm better at healing and fireballs by far…"

Ravel waves a dismissive hand with a grin, "Clothes aren't more than sunburn protection, love. They'll never heal like skin does anyway." He peers at Lyle, ducking his head to get up in his face a little and whispers conspiratorially, "If you want to train up your punching skills, best be avoiding Sevrin. Big fists, but not much sense."

Sevrin eventually heads into the practice yard, looking a little bit angrier than usual. He claims a mace rather than a sword and steps out into yard, maybe he felt Ravel say his name. It doesn't take him long to actually spot the thief, or Lyle near him. "Hey, don't heal him," he calls out, pointing a finger at the former. "He won't learn a lesson that way. And it'd be hazardous to his health if he decided to snatch my eye out again."

"But some clothes are pretty too though. And I'll have you know I'm almost as good at mending clothes as I am skin." He smiles brightly his eyes peeking up and then realizing that Ravel's face is right there. His cheeks flush pink and he looks wide eyed into Ravel's gaze. Then the moment is broken and Lyle's head snaps to Sevrin. "I already healed him, I couldn't just leave him like that…." Lyle straightens up and backs away slowly looks between Sevrin and Ravel somewhat nervously. He sighs. "You stole his eye? Thats not nice…" He still does not look like he regrets helping Ravel though he looks a bit exhasperated. "So he snatched your eye and you decided to beat him bloody?" Lyle looks from Sevrin to Ravel and shakes his head looking a bit defeated. Ravel gets a stern look and Lyle points a finger at him. "No stealing eyes." He whirls around and points that finger at Sevrin next. If he had on a skirt it would likely be a rather dramatic effect, but he makes it work anyay. "And you, no breaking bones or noses. Those are really hard to heal properly."

Ravel smirks at Lyle, "Who doesn't want a glass eye? It could come in handy someday!" He cracks a grin at Sevrin, bolstered by the presence of so many other recruits, and points at his nose, "What he said. It's extra crooked now." He slouches down once more, wiping his cleaner sleeve against his face before pulling it away, checking for any more blood.

"Right outta my head." Sevrin informs Lyle dryly, attention shifting to Ravel. "Don't ever believe in safety in numbers. I've had to tell people before, so if you've heard this, apologies." His voice is raised for the rest of the yard to hear him, mace swinging in a lazy circle before it comes up to point at Ravel. "I wasn't born far from here, up the road in Bowerstone. The only thing I got from my mother was being named after my drunkard father, Severus. He died several years later and left me to fend for myself. Good riddance I always said, I hated the bastard." He continues his stroll over, squatting so he can look the man in the face, without being too close. "Didn't take long for me to get a gang of my own. And wouldn't you know, it went pretty well. At least until that sorry back an' front took me eye." His jaw clenches and he slips out of the prim and proper accent he was speaking in. "Then I got shipped off ta fuckin' Knothole Glade to deal with balverines and all sorts ah other monsters. Took ta being ah bandit. So I've got ah few kills under me belt already, but that's not where I'm goin' with this one. I found where the bastard that took me eye was, and I beat him to death." The look in his eye is murderous, clearly he doesn't like being disrespected. But in the next moment he's regained enough control to speak normally, voice lowering for only the pair to hear "Don't ever think I won't lose my composure if I get disrespected enough." And with that he pushes to his feet and heads off towards the archery yard, fists clenched, and people moving out of his way.

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