[Day 3: Mid Afternoon] A Dance with Danger (Open-ish)

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

Ser Fendrel Bartheld arrived at the very beginning of the feast, always the picture of a well-groomed, punctual and courteous lord... of course, he was no lord considering House Bartheld's succession issues. Dressed in extravagant clothing proudly displaying brown and red of his house - with some subtly incorporated black as well - he moves around the various nobles, lords and ladies, mingling, tasting good - although perhaps not the best wine - and dancing. He changes partners often, charming many a noblewoman that afternoon. One of them is a lady unlike any other in the great hall...

[OOC: Since it takes place during the feast, the thread's open to anyone, but the conversation between Fendrel and Dyana is private.]

[Dyana Marsten]

Lady Dyana Marsten wasn't having an exactly terrific time at the feast. Though the food was, in fact, quite delicious, and the wine better than what she was used to, the other attendants were what was upsetting her. Though her black and green - ironically the Marsten colors - gown was finely cut to follow while enhancing her silhouette, there was little mistaking a woman of nearly ten inches over five feet and well-delineated shoulders. Some bizarre mixture of courtly manners and stubborn prejudice led men to subtly inch away from her as she drifted through dancing pairs, and even those that took her as partner seemed to be holding some unspoken and infuriating mirth at the situation.

Though it was not without mild skepticism, she was glad one of those noblemen wasn't as narrow-headed as the others when he guided her steps without, thus far, a hint of scorn or awkwardness. "
At last one who can appreciate an untroubled waltz, ser."
She smirks with a hint of a perked eyebrow.

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
How could I not, with such a graceful lady at my side?"
Ser Fendrel replies, smiling confidently. "
Ser Fendrel Bartheld, at your service, my lady."
While not a youth anymore, the man hardly looks older than six- or seven-and-twenty, with a strong jawline covered by a well-groomed dark beard. Tall and lean, he is a picture of what could be described as a typical young knight. He moves with grace and tact, apparently having mastered the act of dance perfectly.

[Dyana Marsten]

That eyebrow itches to raise further, but it is held in check. "
You flatter me, Ser Fendrel Bartheld,"
Dyana says with none too much aplomb, "
though I wonder whether it's the man or the Bartheld speaking."
She smiles at him with easy confidence, and gracefully follows his lead through the hall. While not as tall as he is, she reaches high for a woman, and it's evident for such a skilled dancer that she didn't share the same expertise. What she lacked in mastery she compensated with poise, however, and though it felt as she was improvising the steps here and there, it looked none too bad.

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
And why can't the two be one?"
Fendrel laughs, "
I must admit that you have my at a disadvantage, my lady... I seem not to have seen you at the tourney before... how is it that we are having this dance only now?"
Even if he notices her improvisation - and surely he must have, moving as he does, dancing as he does - he does not comment nor does his green-gray eyes betray that he has indeed taken notice.

[Dyana Marsten]

"
You truly not know who I am, ser?"
Dyana looks pensive for the briefest of moments. "
Then perhaps ill word of me isn't quite as widespread as I was led to believe. I'm Dyana Marsten."
She says without further flatteries, rotating amidst the dancing partners. There is a hardness to her eyes, that of a soul that has more years weighing its conscience than its bones, but she warms up to Fendrel's seemingly honest praise. "
I arrived but this morning. Matters kept me preoccupied for some days after the departure of the household. Still,"
she lowers her tone ever so slightly, "
I'm glad to be dancing at last."

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
Ah, I am glad to make your acquaintance then, my lady... but ill word? My lady, all the news about you that might have reached the Bartheld lands only spoke of your courage and... heroism. It is a rare thing to hear of such a beautiful woman taking up arms, but why should that be stopped? If it brings you joy,"
a flirtatious smile, "
then as myself, Ser Fendrel, and the Bartheld as well,"
he jokes, "
say that it must be continued."


"
I seem to have seen your family at the yesterday's feast. Your sister, lady Gwyneth, spoke well and true."


Hearing the remark on dancing, Fendrel smirks, "
As am I, my lady, as am I."
He doesn't specify whether he's glad he's dancing himself, or whether he is glad she is dancing, or perhaps even both.

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana's chuckle is nearly dry. "
O, Ser Fendrel, the way you speak makes it sound almost as if that was true. Don't mind me, I do appreciate the respite."
She says, risking stepping on his foot after a particularly elaborate move she didn't quite know how to follow. "
My sister does have a knack."
She continues, completely ignoring the near-accident. "
What about you, Ser Fendrel? What are your talents?"

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
Oh, my dear lady, you wound me with your doubts,"
Ser Fendrel jests as he does not feel wounded at all, smiling and laughing, "
Does bringing joy and respite to beautiful maidens count? If no, how about dancing? No?"
He grins and almost winces when Dyana's foot does indeed step on his, but he just smiles and seems to ignore the incident as if nothing happened.

[Dyana Marsten]

"
Who said anything about joy, Ser?"
Dyana retorts with a joyous smirk. "
Though I will say you dance most gracefully, even with bruised toetips."
Her brow perks upwards as she glances at their feet. Dancing really wasn't her forte, but she was trying her best. At least he was being gentle about her inaptitude.

"
I ask because, now that we exchanged names, it's you that have me at a disadvantage. You hear news and tales of my deeds, all the while the name Fendrel is a mystery to me."
Dyana puts in some extra effort to accompany her partner's difficult dancing, seeming to pick up the pace now, despite her incident. "
I'm not so unlearned in heraldry that I never heard of your existence, Ser. But that's all I know of you. That, and your divine dancing, of course."
She smiles playfully.

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
House Bartheld, of course! It even is present in our words: Joy in Service,"
Fendrel flashes a smile, and then laughs at her comment about bruised toetips, "
Don't you think that would classify as a talent?"
For a moment he seems to slow down his dancing so as to allow his partner a moment to pick up the pace, "
Well, I would be quite devastated if the word of my dancing skills did not reach Marsten lands,"
once again he grins, "
but you are, of course, right, my lady. What would you like to know? I am a Bartheld, youngest son of Lord Brom Bartheld... or perhaps just Brom Bartheld considering certain... troubles that my house seems to be currently suffering. In truth, this matter concerns me deeply as my father abandoned his house, abandoned his lordship to pursue a foolish fancy. And now my house is in a very unwonted predicament. Surely you must have heard of that?"

[Dyana Marsten]

"
In passing, yes, though I am not familiar with the minutiae of the situation."
Dyana answers in a more level tone. "
I am sorry to hear of the hardships that have befallen your family, Ser Fendrel. What fancy did your father set out to pursue? Surely it must've been something grand for him to put so much at stake."
She smiles faintly and sympathetically at the knight.

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
Grand mayhaps? Minstrels would call it such for sure. It's the one thing that forces so many a man to lose their heads, although usually - and fortunately - only figuratively. Desire. Infatuation. A woman."
Fendrel says these words as matter-of-factly as he possibly can.

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana's eyes gleam with realization at each passing word, and she draws her telltale knowing smile at Fendrel. "
Oh yes, women. I know those."
She almost giggles with herself. "
My house has an overabundance of them, you know? And by that, an overabundance of men following like starving dogs."
She recalls a conversation she had not too much earlier in the noon, about putting your own happiness above the fate of your house.

"
And what will be of the house, then, devoid of your father? Am I unwittingly dancing with the Lord Bartheld?"

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
House Marsten does seem to be a house full of beautiful women, that is indeed true."
Ser Fendrel, once again, allows himself a wide smile. "
Be that it be so. I am lord Brom's youngest son - the last living, the only to have survived the Stepstones - but my claim is not as strong as my nephew's. Frankly, had it not been for his blatant disregard of Bartheld's traditions and hospitality, I would never have thought I could ever desire that title. And it's still not the title I desire, but prosperity and stability of our house. My nephew does not seem to remember to uphold these traditions. He seems keen to remake House Bartheld into a stern and laughter-less place under his command. He does not ask for permission in doing that - he decides that years, generations of joyous practices and traditions of our house should be stopped because his is the claim of inheritance."
Fendrel sighs, "
My apologies, my lady, I should not have bored you so with these details you surely have no need or want knowing."
He gives Dyana an apologetic smile.

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana narrows her gaze at Fendrel's compliment, as if appraising him, but limits her response to a slight tilt of her head and a smile.

To the rest, however, she nods in sympathy. "
I have no need of knowing of your house, indeed, Ser. But I might have some want. Why is it that your nephew has a stronger claim than you, the only living son of the Lord? And even if that, why do you not speak to him of his ways? Surely the word of his uncle must have some weight on the boy?"

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
Such is the law of the land, my lady. My nephew, Davain, is the oldest son of my oldest, deceased, brother."
Ser Fendrel tries very hard to provide an unbiased explanation even if it is clear that he strongly believes in the righteousness of his own cause. "
I fear my nephew is not one to listen to anyone's advice, least of all mine. He believes in his own right and, sadly, does not like to listen to those who don't agree with his views or beliefs."

[Dyana Marsten]

"
Hm."
Dyana frowns slightly. "
I know the kind, stubborn and unmoving. Could be a problem, but then again, that depends on what he does. A stern but competent leader can be a good thing, you know?"
She suggests after a complicated three-step spin. "
What was his 'blatant disregard of Bartheld's traditions and hospitality', if you don't mind me asking, Ser?"

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
I agree with you, my lady, at least... partially. It can, but I doubt it will, not in this case. His policy towards our renowned parties and balls, of course. He has already managed to alienate many of our family members by his decisions to change, limit and in some cases even ban the very thing that House Bartheld is known - and respected - for, namely, our great parties, balls, masquerades. These have served us well, as both the great influence in many matters our house holds, even though it is so young;
as well as the state of our coffers."


[OOC: Are you up for an intrigue maybe?]

[Dyana Marsten]

[OOC: Sure, though it would be my first one. What are you up to?]

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

[OOC: Just raising Dyana's disposition and, if possible, getting her support in the legitimacy issue of House Bartheld.]

[Dyana Marsten]

[OOC: Alright. Are you starting it, should I post something first, or...?]

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

[OOC: How about we continue our normal conversation and play the intrigue post-by-post? We should both roll for initiative (Status test), note down our objectives, disposition, intrigue defence and composure. And then whoever wins the initiative, posts their action.]

[url=Status][/url]: 4d6 15 (Intrigue Initiative)

Initiative: 15
Objective: Support
Disposition: Indifferent, DR4
Defence: 10
Composure: 12/12

[Dyana Marsten]

"
I've heard of the celebrations held by your house, of course, though I did not know that they held such importance to you and the legacy of your family. You'll pardon me saying this, Ser, but I don't see how that could be a priority, not on my world."
Dyana chuckles, shaking her head slowly. "
But don't take me wrong, I respect tradition. It makes me wonder, though, if there are not other matters ailing your house, that your nephew sees more fit to tend to."


[url=Status][/url]: 3d6k3 9 (Intrigue Initiative)

Initiative: 9
Objective: Truth
Disposition: Indifferent, DR4
Defense: 9
Composure: 9/9

[Ser Fendrel Bartheld]

"
If there are such matters my nephew has not seen fit to inform anyone of them, nor to do anything about them."
Ser Fendrel says and shrugs, "
I understand, my lady, it might be difficult to think of them as being that important if one is not accustomed to it. You see, normally I would agree with you, my lady, but the whole economy of our house, as well as its standing, influence, and indirectly even its military power - which you might find most odd - rely on them. Besides... I am sure that if you were to attend our renowned masked ball, you would soon change your opinion."
He flashes her a confident smile, and it is his well-known charming one. "
In fact, we are organizing one just at this tourney, in three days from today's. I would be most honoured if you attended it and saw for yourself the splendour and joy such events can bring."


Initiative: 15
Objective: Support
Disposition: Indifferent, DR4
Defence: 10
Composure: 12/12

Action: [url=Deception (Charm)][/url]: 6d6k4+5 23
Result: 23-9=14. 3 DoS.
Influence: 4 x 3 DoS = 12. 8 points of Influence to be applied to Composure.

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