Gerhard listened to the older Knight carefully, but struggled to comprehend the scope of what he was saying.

Warfare had always been warfare. To his limited understanding, it had been going on in much the same way since the time of Christ. Certainly the fashions changed, the power of the various factions involved. But warfare itself? Was that possible?

And the advice was sound, even if the answer was predictable and of little comfort. The priests he had spoken to had no idea what to tell him, and how could they? From within their safe and beautiful cloisters. Some had no idea what it was to even do a days work, much less to fight in a battle.

But speaking to others, other men who had gone to war. He did see the wisdom in that if he could some how preserve his reputation while doing so. Even these scant few seconds had helped in a way he had not expected, and he nodded in thanks.

"I will remember it, and God grant me the strength to live as long as you have so that I might pass it on." He replied with another glance to the floor. "I am Gerhard de Colmar...might I know yours? And perhaps I might be permitted to send you a letter around Christmas to see how you and your family fare?

Helena continued to watch as the seconds trotted past; she had little inclination to return to her table, given that of its inhabitants, half had been leering at her retreating form, while the other half were plotting ways to sink daggers into it. If she were lucky, the latter were only metaphorical.

Her current occupation was, at the very least, more interesting than the conversation on offer. She was a fairly keen watcher of people herself (one had to be as a woman in a man's world, both to avoid trouble, and also because few were willing to volunteer the information willingly), but she rarely had the opportunity to observe another doing the same. A small part of her enjoyed the feeling of sudden power, of seeing something that she shouldn't, of knowing and not being known.

I suppose this is what Acteaon felt, although my target is nowhere so divine.

Mindful of the fate of the legendary hunter, she nonetheless kept her eyes on the target for a further minute or so. The Lady de Arras seemed to have a good grip on the court, and her expression betrayed at least some triumph at that knowledge, although judging by the hardening of the features that followed, it was not as complete as she would have liked.

Not quite there, are you? Close, perhaps, but not close enough for your liking. You're not the only wolf amid the flock, are you?

Truth be told, she couldn't claim much greater knowledge or insight than her target might, despite having been resident for a little longer. She wasn't invited to the regular soirees, nor sought after by knights and nobles, seldom seen and even less often noticed. It suited her, to be honest - her worth was of that of disinterest, of having no interest beyond that which she paid for, and her lack of interest afforded her a security that those above could not rely upon.

I am but a mouse below their feet, scuttling unnoticed and feeding from scraps. To bite would do little more than attract attention, and so I scuttle on...

She suspected her father would be a little less pleased at that particular animal comparison. If pushed, he'd probably favour an oxen, or a hardy goat; useful, but seemingly unthreatening. Something to discuss later, perhaps...

As she continued to observe, reluctant to return to her place, she realised her eyes had slid away from her target's expression a little, viewing more generally the elegance of her neck, the way the light played against the muscles and cords and threw them into sharp relief, and...

Don't.

She caught her breath, and dragged her gaze away. A few seconds of deep breaths, and she had control once more.

You know where those paths lead.

She shook her head gently, hoping that there wasn't a passing servant to see her moment of internal torment, and clenched her hand tight until the nails began to dig into her palm.

Enough watching. Go back to the table and do what you're here to do. They've set more than enough traps for you to fall into without you inventing a few more of your own.

Composing herself and re-applying her smile, she gently swept back into view and returned to her table.

Great roleplaying one and all. Let's see how we are going forward. I think a few rolls are in order before I move the story somewhat.

First off, no roll, but a contact to note down for Gerhard de Colmar. The old knight of Luxembourgh identifies himself as Clovis of Sylva, and gives you the needed information for correspondence.

Secondly, also without a roll, but resolving one of her rolls, Anne d'Arras finds that of the knights that show promise for her plans, none are available. Those that show promise seem happily married. Nothing to immediately be able tot take advantage off or get rid of. After this evening these people are returning home anyway.

Thirdly, let's make a roll for Helena of Ghent to see if this evening and the talks at the table in the background have gotten her any new deals or opportunities. Failure in the roll will not hurt her (but I will tie it in to the developing story somehow) and succeeding at the roll will give her new opportunities to take advantage off if she wants. I'm only gonna give one die, not because it's hard, but because it's not really that important. It will give her something to do either way.

And fourthly, Roland de Sergius, a certain Lady Catharina has sent a servant to you with a note that she would very much like a dance. (You have gotten multiple of these kinds of notes from noble ladies.) If you look over, you see that she is elegantly dressed, in a blue velvet dress that seems to shimmer like rippling water when she moves, with green embroidery mimicking leaves and vines. You also notice, but it might be the wine, one of the male servants always looking hastily away once your eyes cross. He seems about your age, with dark blonde curly hair and deep brown eyes. He comes across as shy, but then again, he is one of the servants. Among the things you hear people talking about at the table you hear a very drunk knight tell a very tall tale, about how during a hunt he saw what looked like a little girl riding a wild boar in the woods. He tried to follow them but he quickly lost their trail. The others blow it off as a drunken tale, asking him how much he had drank before going on the hunt. He's so drunk that he starts laughing as well once someone fills his cup again.

Roland softly chuckles to himself when he reads the note. Although he is involved already, maintaining appearances was important (as much as he didn't like to maintain a lie). And so, he would share a dance with the lady.

Dice Pool - 5 + 2 (Representative of a long convalescent Flemish wool merchant) +1 = 8

23:27, Today: Helena of Ghent rolled 25 using 8d6 ((1,5,1,5,5,4,1,3))

Why do I get the sense that I've now wasted all my good fortune on this initial roll?

Under the circumstances, I'm happy to take a dice for my pool, if that works for your GMness?

Gerhard left the older Knight feeling confident that with the information he now possessed, that a letter would reach him come the holidays.

Gerhard was passingly literate, but seldom found the need to write. As such he was already contemplating how he might dictate a letter to a Scribe so as not to make a mess of any expensive parchment.

This would be a newer experience for him, and whole he normally exchanged letters with his parents a few times a year, he was already contemplating the potential of reaching out to a few of the men he had fought alongside those eight years ago.

The talk had sobered him, and Gerhard looked more alert and less dour as he rejoined the festivities. Indeed he almost looked taller as he rejoined his table, the man with the symbol of his Order moving off for his dance at about the same time.

Perhaps it was this renewed sobriety that allowed him to notice the pretty young woman looking covertly over the Knights assembled around him, and he met her eyes briefly in passing for a half second.

He looked away, politely, but glanced back curiously a few long moments later to see where her attention was directed.

Anne was annoyed.

Her huntress’ instincts seemed to be failing her tonight, as she watched the game gathering around their watering hole, all of them beyond the reach of her crossbow. It was made worse by the sight of a certain falcon, diving to pick prey right under Anne’s very nose. She hadn’t been paying attention to her anymore, focused as she was on the males, but the scent trail was clear enough: the Golden Fleece knight she had noticed before was reading a little piece of parchment, and whatever was written there seemed to amuse him. Anne’s gaze followed the servant who had delivered it, all the way back to her source, and sure enough it was her, the shiny blur of blue velvet across the crowded room.

Poacher.

Sending a servant with a written note instead of oral instructions was quite a bold statement: it meant she didn’t mind leaving proof, and it was an obvious way to advertise the fact she was literate. Unusual and dangerous. Perhaps a former Tartienne nun like herself?

Anne resisted an impulse to step in and snatch away the knight. Too soon; no point in revealing herself as a rival before she was within striking distance. Rashness like that was what landed her in Le Tart in the first place. She stayed where she was, and grabbed another goblet of wine from a passing servant, hiding her sharp smile behind it. Game on.

And when the pewter rim was lowered again, there was another knight stealing a glance at her from the middle distance. Perhaps it was the wine, but Anne allowed herself an unveiled critical assessment.

A big bull of a man he was, a few years older than her, but not in his thirties yet; wearing a nice doublet not in the Burgundian fashion, so a foreigner perhaps; with the shapely calves of a dancemaster or a keen jouster; most probably the latter, going by the his arming sword, an odd sight in such circumstances. She couldn’t see any coat of arms, which might be the reason she had overlooked him during her first male-auditing pass.

Anne took a few more seconds than necessary, to make a point about her interest; after which she looked away at nothing in particular, and casually captured the silk veil that hanged from her turret-tip, twisting it between two fingers.

Gerhard did not have much to recommend him among the various men attending the festival.

The quality of his cloth and his general lack of ornamentation would suggest that he was not especially wealthy, and what's more he often came off as brutish in both temperament and appearance.

If he did have any advantage, it was in his size which some women found attractive, and in that he possessed a sort of brooding, dangerous air. Even if he proved not especially clever or charming, he did not seem the sort to be trifled with.

When he met Anne's gaze it was with eyes darkened by lack of sleep and hardened against the world, and a mild curiosity, almost as if he recognized his own deficiencies and was trying to work out why she was taking notice of him at all.

As if to punctuate his thoughts, he cocked his head very slightly as they looked at each other, a vaguely amused, vaguely conspiratorial expression that suggested that he recognized that she was bored by her current company, or that she had been disappointed in the festivities thus far.

As Anne and Gerhard lock eyes the night progresses. (Feel free to keep roleplaying, or have a conversation with each others as players (in chat or the PM thread) as to what you want to accomplish in this scene and make a summary.

Roland starts dancing with the Lady in Blue, who introduces herself as Catharina. She asks what a knight of the Golden Fleece is doing in this place.

Helena on the other hand has conversations with the other merchants in the area. She's hearing that some shepherds are getting upset about increased wolf activity and that they are unable to give much wool if the wolves keep eating the sheep. The merchant in case seems to be willing to give up on that village since "it's not worth the effort and resources I put into it". If a certain merchant would be able to fix this problem with a certain set of knights or something like that, well, there would be a chance of gaining more wool income. "Some of the hunters there say these wolves are not normal wolves. That there is a larger, smarter wolf with them. Some think witchcraft or devilry is at stake.", the merchant says. "Not surprising! Another says. The Count fled on accusation of witchcraft! Who knows what kind of evil old forces have been awakened!". "Bah, superstitions truly!", you hear from behind you as the castellan himself joins your conversation. "So, besides the tell of old wives' tales, is everything else to your agreement? I hope you will find this county ripe for investment! Together, I believe we can make these lush, wooden hills a paradise for all!"

Anne's eyes travel from Gerhard's to the irritating blur of blue velvet, now slowly moving around the room in a stately basse danse, by the side of a Golden Fleece. She had a good eye, the minx, and she knew how to get her way. Anne wondered if that Catherina had spotted her, just like Anne had spotted her. Perhaps not; the wench had kept busy. If so, there was nothing to be gained by making herself obvious.

Then her eyes followed the booming voice of the castellan to the other side of the room. Le Flamand was talking to some merchants and other rich plebeians, judging by the quality of their clothes. Amongst them was some blonde, which Anne could only see in profile. Either the wife of one of the merchants, dressed for the one in a lifetime chance to dine with a would-be Count; or somebody's young daughter, dressed for the once in a lifetime chance to slip into the bed of a would-be Count. Good luck, little one, she thought, averting her eyes but making a mental note of it. Not now, though; she had almost unrestricted access to the castellan thorough Marie. If the move was ever required, she would find a discreet way.

That giant of a man across the room was still there, trying to attract her attention with a gesture of his head. Anne couldn't help but smile. It was almost like watching a tamed bear do a courtly bow. Her fingers let go of the silk veil and came to rest on her chest, a finger-width above the neckline of her kirtle. Come hither.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 28):

Roland chuckles at the lady's question. "Although I am a Knight of the Golden Fleece, my family has been here for quite a while - I wanted to make an appearance and introduce myself to the new lord, should I get the chance to meet with him."

If Anne was accustomed to subtle gestures and delicate social intricacies, she was bound to be disappointed by Gerhard.

Some horses were responsive to their riders, sensitive to every shift of weight, the tension in a leg, the lifting of a rein.

Others were "hard in the mouth", they needed to be kicked, the bit pulled and they needed the occasional spur.

Gerhard was the latter.

He made his way over after finally catching the hint, a small knot of revelers growing silent and parting as he passed along the periphery of the dance floor.

As he approached he gave her a slight nod. "I don't believe we've been introduced...Gerhard de Colmar." He bowed slightly at the waist. "Can I bring you anything? Some wine perhaps?" He seemed to openly glance about for a chaperone.

There were few phrases that could make Helena's ears prick up after this long of a formal dinner. Her name was one, along with some of the more usual insults that were whispered behind her back, but aside from that, struggling wool merchant was perhaps the most obvious.

Hmmm, what have we here? A gap in the market, at least potentially. Tell me more...

The facade of demure charm held up as she listened further, which was apt, as the internal expression would have been a somewhat lupine smile herself.

And superstitions to boot! Although whether this is actually wolves, or a smart operator looking to drive up their supply prices, I don't know.

If that were the case, she wouldn't be surprised. The wool trade was potentially very lucrative, but such potential riches brought competition with them, as well as potentially high overheads to keep a network in business. As such, it wasn't surprising that the less scrupulous among her peers often tried to pressure their suppliers into lowering their prices or being blacklisted.

Stupid fools, the lot of them! Freezing out a genuine gouger, fair enough, but if you're forcing your stockmen to sell their flocks for mutton because you fancy a few groats off your fleeces, don't be surprised if they bite you when times are bad.

As the castellan moved into the conversation, she leant back in her chair and surveyed the scene, thinking intently.

That might be worth a look, but I'll need to tread carefully. Just because they look drunk doesn't mean that they're not capable of setting traps. But if this is genuine, and I can swing things around our way, I can definitely find a use of a few more bales, if not here, then perhaps in England...

She snapped out of her reverie just as the castellan's attention moved around to her. As the only woman at the table who wasn't on the arm of a merchant, she tended to be the last person to whom attention was paid. She smiled back at the castellan, and nodded.

'I'm sure my father will be more than satisfied, my lord. You can be assured of a glowing report back to him for your continued benevolence and understanding.'

Especially, as it happens, if you're willing to lend me a few men who aren't afraid of wolves. 

As Roland and Catherina are dancing Lady Catharina nods to Roland. "Impress me with this dance, dear knight, and I might introduce you.", she says with a smile as you dance.
This will be an opportunity to impress her (and others) with your dancing skills! As stated before it's a slow dance, a Bassadance, a low dance. Feet stay on the ground, everything stately and proper. As the evening progresses, maybe there'll be some more modern, fast and lively dances, like a Galliard. So roll for dancing. Your description (and your choice in wether to do a monologue of victory or get an extra pool die) will influence how you succeed (or fail.) I give you one extra die for this.

Anne and Gerhard are also dancing, but this does not need to become a contest (unless they want to). They probably can use this time to keep talking, get to know each other, etc. I don't see a need for a roll. If you just want to be part of the scenery for this moment in role-play that's good too.

Helena and the merchants are taking their opportunities to stand in good graces with the Castellan by conversation. A lot of flattering remarks are given about the feast. The food, the wine and the music gets praised, as do the looks of the Castellan and his family. Should Helena in some way want to try and get in even better standing with the Castellan in this conversation then she can describe how she intends to do this and roll for it. If successful again, the choice is there for a monologue of victory or an extra die to the pool. If you let me narrate your victory the chances will be that your good graces with the Castellan might also gain you some enemies with the merchants at the table.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Fri 06 Aug 2021.

Anne pretended to be looking at something else until the bear reached her, at which point she gave him a courtly smile, as if she was mildly surprised to be accosted.

"I share your disbelief, herr Gerhard," she replied, noticing the Teutonic accent and the family name. Naturally, she didn't know where exactly was Colmar, beyond the general knowledge that it was somewhere to the east, in Imperial lands. Peculiar that he was so far from home. Perhaps he was on some knightly pilgrimage, or looking to be employed by some higher lord?

"I am Anne d'Arras de Valois-Bourgogne," she said with subtle emphasis on her House, giving him a couple of seconds to process that. Surely he would understand the implication? He would have heard of the Valois of Burgundy, even being a foreigner? She would give him the chance to acknowledge that; spelling it out for him would have been borderline offensive, as if she thought he was simple.

Pause over, she smiled at him again, appraisingly. His eyes were searching, perhaps looking for a watchful mother or husband. She waved a negligent hand towards the castellan's table.

"I am in this charmingly rural county of Rethel these days to accompany my good friend Marie d'Hainaut in her new life as a married woman. Perhaps I shall stay and perhaps I shall leave, mostly depending on the local attractions. I hear game is abundant in these lands, and I confess to being an inveterate huntress."

That last one was punctuated by a slightly raised eyebrow.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:06, Wed 04 Aug 2021.

For all his lack of social grace, the Valois-Bourgogne name landed on his ear like the beat of a drum. His recognition was obvious, and while he was not struck dumb by the revelation his posture, tone, even his expression shifted in a sort of subconscious acknowledgement.

"Truly?" He answered, and returned a fainter version of her smile. "I was in the service of the former Count, and have been...inherited, as it were, by your friends new Husband."

He glanced to couple in emphasis before his focus returned to Anne. "I have only been in Rethel for a few years, but I can assure you that the hunting in the Ardennes is excellent." He stated confidently.

"The forest is old, and unforgiving" he watched a red faced man pass nearby with an intense, scruntizing look before he continued. "But it is these qualities that make hunting there such a joy. It is no patch of meadow where the keepers bait their take charges, but a wilderness worthy of the name."

He rested his fore arms on his sword belt and moved to stand more side by side to watch the dancers and get out of the way of a passing couple.

"Where have you come from? How was your journey here?" He asked her

"Truly," she answered with a self-satisfied smile.

And she made a note of the 'former Count' formula. That Gerhard was already discounting his former master; whatever his loyalties might have been, it was obvious he wasn't exactly yearning for the return of Charles de Nevers. Neither did he sound particularly thrilled about the Castellan, but, interesting tidbit, he knew the county well.

"Wilderness everywhere, then, it would seem," she agreed, or seemed to agree. And talking of wilderness...

"Oh, it was quite an exhausting and incovenient voyage, I assure you," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Across most of northern Burgundy and western Lorraine by carriage, along treacherous paths I much rather have done on horseback, had it not been against decorum. Then down the Meuse in a frightfully overladed barge that seemed ready to capsize at any moment, and yet more tedious carriage-days from the Meuse to the Aisne."

She clasped her hands together piously, holding them against her chest.

"But all this I do gladly for my dear Mariette, just like I renounced my nunly vows to be here with her. We were both noviciates at Le Tart, and I fervently believe Marie would have been a great abbess one day, hadn't the path of marriage been chosen for her."

A beatific smile to go with the lie.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:48, Wed 04 Aug 2021.

Gerhard, do you believe e her or are you skeptical? If the latter, Anne should roll. I'll let Gerhard choose wether she gets one, two or three GM dice for that task.

Gerhard has no reason to disbelieve her at this point. It's an innocent enough lie.

-

"I believe you will find that even Rethel is more lively than an Abbey." He replied with a small but genuine smile. "She is fortunate to have you then. Travel is arduous enough for men, but for a well born lady coming to a new region, well, I am sure she must be grateful."

He was silent for a moment, watching the dancers, when he seemed to feel a sudden sense of freedom. It was probably not the wine, he had sobered up quite a bit. Maybe his previous unburdening conversation with the older Knight had put him in a certain mood.

"So you ride and hunt?" He asked in a more familiar, almost playful tone, as if he did not quite believe here. "Does your fair Lady share your pursuits? Or do you usually ride with the men?" He asked with a glance to her, a downward glance, given their height difference.

Anne swallowed a spicy comment about Le Tart, which was many things and few of them good. If the foreigner hadn't heard about the abbey, all the better. She smiled along, playing her role. She did bristle, however at his 'your Lady'.

"My dear friend Marie," she said primly, "who is of excellent birth if not a member of my House, is a sweet dove, as befits a wife, and of a weaker constitution, not suited for any brisk exercise at all. I do worry, looking at her, and pray that may God grant her an easy labour, being such a slight and delicate woman."

A little pause to mark the return to Anne's favorite topic: Anne.

"I do, indeed, ride and hunt, with hound and falcon; I am a passable chess player and a pleasant singer, I am told, and nobody ever found fault with my playing of the lute," she recited, ommitting the bits about reading and writing; men found that intimidating. "And all of these things I have done with men, naturally, at the splendid court of my august father the Duke, where the finest gentlemen of Burgundy learn their manners and ways. Oh," she added, as if she had forgotten and only just, suddenly, remembered: "I am also a keen dancer."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:25, Wed 04 Aug 2021.

Gerhard could not help but notice that Anne's hackles raised at the notion of being some how subservient to her friend, and he glanced one again in the direction of the Castellan's new wife as Anne pointed out the woman's "weaker constitution".

He then listened, with a sort of amiable and amused expression as she listed her various hobbies, but he chuckled again as she wrapped up. "I have no reason to doubt that you are all these things, of course." He assured her. But I do ask that you allow me the honor of seeing the last one for myself." He offered his arm and angled towards the dance floor.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:07, Thu 05 Aug 2021.

Anne regaled Gerhard with a coquettish smile, glad that he was finally taking some hints. Well, everyone knew the Germans were of hardy if unsubtle stock, so said all the Latin sources she had been made to study at Le Tart. Perhaps all it took was careful and adequate taming; perhaps not with subtlety like one trains a prized hunting falcon, but more like like the calculated bluntness employed with a dancing bear.

How apt.

"Certainly, herr Gerhard, that I can grant you," she said, resting her dainty hand in his paw. She slid towards the central space cleared as a dancefloor, held her head high, adopted the majestic forward-balance that the dance required.

Certainly not her favorite or the most exciting, but damned if Anne was not going to impress the paysans of the provinces with proper Burgundian dancing from a proper Burgundian lady of the ruling house.

She nodded gracefully, curtsied, and floated forwards in rhythm with the music...

Anne, if you want to turn heads, please roll an appropriate trait. I will grant you 2 bonus dice, this should not be too hard.

2 dice + 1 Raised at Burgundian court

16:42, Today: Anne de Arras rolled 5 using 3d6 with rolls of 1,2,2.  Making an impression at the ball.

(Incidentally, would be super useful if the dice roller was set to d6 and "Record Each Die" by default, pretty please?)

Do you ant to do a "monologue of victory" or do you want me to narrate your success and have you gain a +1 to your dicepool?