(514-05-01) The Efforts of Romance
Summary: Awkward flirting and attempts at perhaps some romance between a Pitton knight and a Burcombe knight.
Date: 1st of May, 514
Related: Drinks, Disagreements, And Duels
merryn rozenn 


Morning in Pitton is rather quiet. It's not known for being a full settlement, in fact if anything is known about Pitton, it's the curse that seems to follow the men of the family. One of those men is out in the swordyard, Sir Merryn de Pitton stands before a crudely made training dummy, divested of armor and wearing only his tunic and trousers, he even stands barefoot on the grassy ground. Sword held in one hand he slowly practices his forms against the dummy. A trained swordsman could tell his motions are a bit stiff and rigid, even if his forms are correct and well-practiced. A young boy, barely a teenager sits on a cask off to the side of the yard, holding a waterskin in his hands and a few extra weapons by him. Not a squire, but seemingly serving the role for the day.

Some are already making their way to Carlion for the festivities. Others have things to tend to. Rozenn has had much to think of in the days since the duel. Enough that it made her useless in assisting around home. She opted to take a ride, with some cousin or another even. Her squire has much to do in preparing her things for the trip and the upcoming tourney. Which necessitates not wearing her armor for a couple of days. In turn, she's actually dressed more ladylike for a rarity. Attire in the colors of Burcombe; black, red, and gold. She tends towards red and black, with gold touches. The overtunic bears more overt symbolism, though her heavy, black cloak is edged in much the same. Though she is without armor, the woman is not without means to defend herself. She still wears her sword, as befits her station.

Though her cousin has gone off to do as he may (likely sample the booze and women of the tavern), Rozenn has struck for the manor proper. The sounds of someone at their craft, this early in the morn, draws her attention. The horse's hooves are muted once she's off the primary path, angling towards the yard itself. She halts, a short ways away; one hand twisted up in the reins as she observes.

Critical Success!
You check your awareness at 10, you rolled 10.
Critical Success!
You check your str at 16, you rolled 16.

There's not much to show that Merryn realizes he has an observer, other than a slight flick of his gaze towards the Burcombe knight on her horse. He remembers the issues at the tavern a few nights prior, and his mouth twists into a distasteful scowl. His muscles tense up as he grips the sword tighter. The sword rises into the air, then with a shout he swings downwards and cleves the arm of the training dummy clear off the body. Either a truly sharp sword, which one doesn't often use for training, or just a rather massive display of strength. The man doesn't even have the decency to look proud of himself, no, he just looks like that was the expected result.

His attendant however is sitting up just a bit striaghter at the display, suddenly looking mildly nervous as his wide eyes stay locked in the knight's direction. Though his shock is enough that it takes a few seconds for the lad to notice Merryn is beckoning him over for a drink of water. Though when he notices he's quick to oblige. "Forgive me, Sir knight. I didn't catch your name the other evening." And the boy now looks equally embarassed he didn't notice the other knight.
ooc I see. Basically let them go on auto-pilot?

There seems to be no annoyance in Rozenn's mien for the belated answer. The man was busy at his craft. She would be loathe to be interrupted before she was ready. If there's shock or awe generated by the destruction of the dummy (at least its arm), she does not show it outwardly. Rather, the woman just dips her head a measure when she is greeted.

Rather than the usual braided crown or braided bun at the base of her neck, her hair is in a simple plait that pools into the hood of her cloak. With the apology, she gives another measure of concession before dismounting her mare. Lead in hand, she closes the distance with a few strides. The leather strap is held towards the attendant. It's what he's there for, right?

"Rozenn de Burcombe. I assume you are of Pitton, though I admit I do not recall your name."

Merryn accepts the waterskin from the youth, taking a swig of warm water, though his eyes barely leave Rozenn. The boy is quick to take the reins from Rozenn, bowing sloppily but properly deep before leading the horse off towards a trough of water. Merryn offers the waterskin after his own drink in Rozenn's direction. "Sir Merryn de Pitton, yes." His mouth is still pressed tightly together as he examines the other knight, even though he is minding his manners. He holds his sword losely at his side, careful not to grind the tip into the ground, but also holding it low, uselessly, and obviously non-aggressive. "What brings you out to our little corner of Salisbury, sir?"

Those pale eyes are sharp and similar in hue to the spring sky; the spaces between those whispy clouds. There's a hint of a wind, tugging at her cloak from time to time. As Merryn watches her, so Rozenn watches him. She lifts a hand, accepting the skin as it's offered. Her drink is swift before offering it back. "Well met, Sir Merryn. I apologize again for my words the other night. It was uncouth, but I find some attempts to… convert to be distasteful." As Bronwyn later displayed.

The latter question brings with it some hint of mild bemusement. The corners of her lips twitch ever-so-slightly upward as she turns, marginally, looking over what can be seen of Pitton lands and people from their position. "My cousin had business and I chose to attend. Our families seem to have struck up some measure of an alliance. It seemed it might be… prudent should I show good faith."

Merryn accepts the waterskin back, taking another sip before recapping it and holding it out just in time for his attendant to grab. His brown eyes stay fixed almost unblinkingly at Rozenn as she offers her apology for the other night. He gives a slight shake of his head, not refusing the apology but not seemingly accepting it either. "My cousin and I were out to celebrate the beginning of his courtship. Not to get into a theological debate." There's another brief moment of silence then he offers a shrug, deciding to leave the subject there. He grips the shoulder of his sword arm and gives it a firm massage as he turns back towards his training dummy.

"I assume your cousin is up at the manor house then." Merryn's eyes twitch briefly back in that direction then back to his target as he resumes his stance. "This is news to me however, then again, I'm not privvy to all the workings of the house, my aunt doesn't see the need to involve me unless necessary."

There's a flutter of eyelids. Rozenn received her primary tongue lashing from Jaradan. After you're summoned before the Earl's lead Knight, the others don't seem so bad. She's able to brush it off, at least. There's no insult, to be certain. It'd seem the true ire in the Knight may very likely have been due to Idris' words at the tavern. All she does is tilt her head in a slight nod, gaze following Merryn's towards the manor.

"It is possible. He may have also allowed himself to be waylaid by the offerings of your tavern. It is not… unknown."

"Well, it was more the fault of the other knight. If he can even be called such." Merryn grouses as he once more moves back into the forms, still stiff but losening up as he moves into the routine. "Bodenham was he?" There's a shakes of his head and a scoff of annoyance. "If I were not trying to keep my cousin in a good mood, I would have challenged him myself." Or had Aluksander not stayed his hand, he seemed to take many of his cues from the slightly elder cousin.

His eyes flick momentarily towards the taven. "Less stocked than the Boar's Beard but the company is friendlier. The mutton stew is good as well if you intend to have lunch there." He practices a quick riposte, the sword tip digging into what would be the dummy's throat, sinking in a good inch or so into the wood.

The talk in regards to the Bodenham cheers Rozenn by a measure. Her brows lift slightly, eyes lightening. There's even a slight twitch of a smile at her lips. "His sister was the larger problem. The Earl was quite displeased to hear of his subjects making threats on basis of religion. For me, it was my honor and my family's being called into question as loyal subjects. In the end, my cousin and I were largely brought to task for the location of the duel, rather than why we did such."

There's a look towards the Pitton tavern and that smile finds home at mention of the company. "I may very well have to do so. I am uncertain how long we will be here." When he moves to return to the dummy, she shifts; rotating upon a heel to observe. "Will you be participating in the tourney at Carlion?"

Merryn lowers his sword again, shaking his head at Rozenn's sudden good mood as he bad mouths the Bodenham knight. "I guess I left before this cousin arrived?" He flips the sword in his hand, holding the hilt out towards his attendant who quickly takes the blade and resheathes it. "Well then, I'm pleased to hear you didn't lose too much face before the Earl." He gives a slow nod at the question. "Yes. I'll be in the joust and the grand melee. I assume you will be participating as well, sir?" He walks over to the fence where his vest lays.

"You did. My cousin had arrived as well and drew his shield in defense of the family. Sir Idris' sister took it as the pagans rebelling against our liege. Shrieked for the guards to take us all away, to put us to the stake." For all she's pleased that Merryn did not agree with the Bodenham knight, the memory of the woman's strong words bring a darkness to her brow. "But the Bodenham has been reminded that the Earl would fight alongside a pagan just as much a Christian and that calling loyalty into question is not acceptable." Her anger is there, yes, in that regard, but she has it under control.

When he moves, so does she. Not too closely, but enough to remain within polite conversational distance. "In addition to accepting challenges, I will be participating in the grand melee, on the Clarence team, as their original members were called to fight. Are you participating on behalf of Earl Robert?"

Merryn lets out another derisive snort. "The stake?" He pulls his vest on over his tunic, doing up the laces as he turns to face Rozenn, a grin passing over his face. "That might be taking it a bit far." He shrugs his shoulders to settle the vest and the reaches up to brush his hair back with his fingers from where it had come loose during his training. "All that matters is loyalty to the Earl and the King. I aplologize if I had any harsh words last night."

It may sound like those words were dragged out of him, as he steps over to his attendant and reclaims his sword to buckle around his waist with a practiced ease. "No, my cousin has the honor of fighting for Earl Robert, I'll be fighting on the Clarence team as well."

Failed.
Rozenn checked her Chaste of 7, she rolled 13.
Critical Fail!
Rozenn checked her Lustful of 13, she rolled 20.
Success
Rozenn checked her Flirting of 10, she rolled 8.

"A bit far?" Rozenn takes it for the joke it is, lips twitching upward at the corners. She's watching him and when he goes to right his hair… the woman closes the gap. One of those ties is just a bit off and she murmurs a brief, "Let me," before undoing and setting it right. She's quick and her fingers are deft; there's no lingering overlong, but it does put her near. "You said nothing that you did not have a right to say, Sir Merryn."

With this offered, she steps back; giving him room to take care of the rest. "My cousin, Sir Catryn, is also fighting for the Earl." There's a pause, her hands dropping to gather her cloak lightly and pull it about her. She hasn't the blessing of stirred blood to keep her warm as a breeze blows through. "Then learning your style can be beneficial as a team mate. I would hate for you to think I was here to look for a weakness."

Critical Success!
You check your chaste at 13, you rolled 13.

"Well, perhaps a bit more than that. Perhaps all it requires is a stern talking to by a friar. Did wonders for me as a boy." Merryn certainly seems to be going into a better mood as the conversation progresses, his sourness over the previous night washed away in the ease of their back and forth. Though as she approaches, a slight flush comes to his cheeks, though he keeps his hands very appropriately at his sides, allowing her to redo the tie on his vest with out saying anything too untoward, or really anything at all other than a softly spoken, "Thank you."

As soon as she steps back he returns his cloak to his shoulders, pinning it in place at his shoulder. "My style is not all that special. I simply take advantage of what I have while working around that which I don't. I'm afraid I'll never be graceful with the sword. But I have my own blessings." His brown eyes move to where the arm of the training dummy still lays on the ground.

If she's disappointed that he doesn't say more, Rozenn keeps it to herself. Christians will be Christians. Her arms fold beneath her cloak; tangling it up in front of her and holding it in place. The woman follows the look to the dummy, giving a small nod. "I try to find balance, myself. To be light on my feet and strong enough with blade. There are certainly benefits to such feats of strength, however. I have seen blades split from their pommel with a well-targeted, strong blow."

"Balance is likely something I'm unable to achieve. Childhood.. accident." Merryn sighs as he folds his arms across his chest, still peering at the dummy. "Left me with little choice as to what path to take. A more nimble fighter at my side is always welcome."

"Go back to the manor." Merryn turns towards the boy as he says that. "Let them know I've invited Sir Rozenn and her cousin to lunch." The youngster sketches a quick bow to the two as he doesn't even wait for a response from Rozenn simply makes his way quickly up towards the main house. He gives a short laugh. "That is if you accept, sir? Of course, if you don't that's more for me."

Failed.
Rozenn checked her Chaste of 7, she rolled 16.
Failed.
Rozenn checked her Lustful of 13, she rolled 19.
Failed.
Rozenn checked her Flirting of 10, she rolled 19.

There's a shift of features as Rozenn takes in the admission and the potential implications therein. It's a thoughtful expression, but she finally dips her head in a nod. "A fortune you did not find yourself unable to serve the Earl as a Knight entirely. I could not see you making a successful priest." There may have been somewhat else said, but she seems briefly struck by indecision. When the boy is spoken to, her gaze shifts sidelong; taking the lad and the topic in.

"I would be remiss to turn down a meal after a long morning's ride. I am happy to partake and should my cousin have a prior engagement, it will be his loss."

There's a prolonged silence from Merryn as he regards Rozenn. "That was almost my fate. My mother wanted me to enter the priesthood, I insisted on being squired. She humored me, didn't think I could handle it, honestly, I don't think the knight I was squired to thought I could either." He looks at least a little smug for a moment.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then the mild awkwardness involved with coming close to the lady knight seems to worm its way back in. He seems just about to offer his arm, then gets lost in considering it too forward, instead settling on a hand gesture towards the manor. "Well, there should be a fire and warm food waiting for us."

Success
Rozenn checked her Awareness of 15, she rolled 12.
Failed.
Rozenn checked her Flirting of 10, she rolled 19.
Failed.
Rozenn checked her Romance of 2, she rolled 4.

"There was little chance of dissuading me. After my father was killed by Saxons, I had my mind set to it. One of my uncles saw I had promise and my mother opted not to argue. I was perhaps blessed by having a sister that took to being a lady." Rozenn watches the way his arm moves; eyes bright and alert. She seems to get the initial intent, but doesn't follow through with anything in turn, herself. Mayhap she's unable to decide how to follow that up.

"A good fire would be appreciated. I know it is spring, but it's as if the world has forgotten today. Please, lead the way." She'll fall into step alongside the other Knight, content to entrust her horse to the manor's care… and her cousin to whatever trouble he may be getting into.

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