Quenia makes her way to the square, after the meeting of the Cities of the Lyceum. She looks around for a spot where she might take a seat, and then does so. She nods to those who are already there, giving Duarte a light, impish smile as she passes by.

Duarte stands with arms crossed in the middle of the square looking absolutely prudish and totally not sensual or flirtatious in any manner. He nods really non-sexually back to Quenia.

1 Saik Guard arrives, following Lucita.

"Lord Duarte," Quenia greets the Lycene nobleman. "Are you ready for our champions to determine whether or not you're truly a cold-fish, without a romantic bone in your body?" she asks, with a wink and a touch of amusement. "Or, perhaps that I'm right, instead -- and maybe you're not as cold as you might like people to think?"

Lucita steps into the area. edging over toward the path to Southport Square but still where she can stand and watch.

A dual, you say... and on behalf of someone she knows? Lottie was definitely going to watch! The little baker hurried into the square in the middle of stuffing a sandwich in her mouth for a dinner on the run rather than lollygagging and missing the whole thing!

"I am certain Gloria's providence will prevail upon my champion and the truth will out, Marquessa." Duarte says flatly.

Jiacomo, the Velenosa seneschal arrives, delivering a message to Lucita before departing.

Waldemai was heading back to his shop, but who can walk past a duel?

Gianna has shown up to watch the duel and stands off to the side, arms crossed. Her chin tipped up at an imperious angle, she awaits the appearance of the Champions.

Count Duarte's Champion, he says? Why, that's Bliss, the Lycene woman just happening to walk into the square at that moment, dressed in flashily colored dueling leathers - floppy hat included - and with her rapier resting over one shoulder. In her other hand, is a bucket of fish, ice packed tightly into it. "Count Amadeo!" she calls as she steps toward the man, looking at him. "What's this I hear about the Marquessa denying your true nature? Will I have to demonstrate?"

Zebulon nods to his Patron, Marquessa Quenia Igniseri as he stands at her side. "And I, Sir Zebulon Whitewake, will be fighting for the Marquessa Igniseri this evening." He then begins making his way into the main of the square, a large patch of neatly manicured grass brackets by serenes ponds. Wearing his usual leather and steel armor, cleaned to a shine if still a bit worned and beaten, especially as of late. He turns to wait for the other Champion to join him, a new saber held at his side.

Bashira makes her way into the square as well as she's heard from her brother Caspian that there was a Duel this evening. The sailor finds a place to perch herself and there's a bow to Quenia when she sees her as well. Then there's a look to Zebulon, "Did you bring a helmet, Sir Whitewake?" she asks him with a most innocent looking face. Hey, she and the Mercy's suggested it for his own good!

Lottie shuffled over to a safe observation distance which just happened to be near Waldemai. "Heffo! Er.." Chew, chew, chew. A large bite of sandwich was swallowed down and she cleared her throat, offering a sunny smile. "Hello! Who are you rooting for?"

"Too bad, Count Amadeo. Women do dream, a time or two, of those who will sweep them off their feet, in a romantic sort of way. I would say, given certain circumstances, the situation might be reversed. I've tasted romance, and it has left a bittersweet taste upon my tongue. But yet, the appeal is still there. I must wonder at you for the flowery words you like to speak, that you claim that you're no romantic." Quenia quips easily, but then there are the champions. "We'll have the champions fight it out for us, and then I'll make sure to let Ennettia know the results." There's that impish gleam again.

Bliss does not join Zebulon immediately! Instead, she reaches her hand into the bucket she carries and withdraws a single frozen fish. "Why, let us demonstrate what a cold fish truly is!" she says as she lifts the creature in the air, then tosses it on the ground beside Duarte. "My first interaction with the man? I had sent a letter to someone, meaning to tease him, but Count Amadeo received it instead! But did he proceed to realize his opportunity to sweep me off my feet?" she asks, motioning for Duarte to answer. Seems this is part of the show!

Duarte sighs and presses his lips into an irritated sort of look for Bliss. He lifts a hand helplessly, "If you must, Mistress Bliss - though this sounds like just -another- one of your many attempts to enflame my non-existent passions." He looks -away- "I'd rather you just get on with the duel, but do what you will." He glances to Quenia with a raised eyebrow and just brushes a hand dismissively at her threat.

Gianna inclines her head to Waldemai, a familiar face from the fundraiser for the Bard's College. She opens her mouth to say something as Bliss passes, but ends up just closing it and sighing a faint little sigh.

"It was meany for Lord Dante. An honest error. Hardly an opportunity." Duarte says blandly. He does jump a little when a fish suddenly flops near him.

2 Armed Confessors, Gia the peregrine falcon, 3 Rubino and Zaffria guards, Rary the Lycene beauty arrive, following Grazia.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Quenia before departing.

"Everything is an opportunity, Count Amadeo!" Bliss announces as she pulls out a second fish, waving it in the air again. "So I attempted to give him one, Lords, Ladies and others gathered here today!" she announces. "I asked him to take me out for a drink. But he did not pursue it. He made me feel unwanted. Unloved. Undesired." She sighs and shakes her head, throwing the next fish on the ground next to Duarte. "Sir Zebulon!" she asks, pointing at her opponent. "Would you have jumped at that? Perhaps your luck would finally have changed!"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Quenia before departing.

"Why? When I can drink in peace and alone with my thoughts?" Duarte says defensively. He watches the projected fish and guesses where it will fall. He steps aside to ensure he is not hit with it.

Not the 'performer' that Bliss is, Zebulon takes the time to do some stretches while he waits. Hearing Bashira yell out to him, he smacks the side of his helmet and grins, avoiding the spiky tip protuding at the top. When Bliss tosses the next fish and calls out ot him, the tall dark man maintains the smile and responds. "I'd have jumped all over it, Mistress Bliss! Us saliors don't let any opportunity pass us by!"

"And dream, and pine away, and think of ways to woo over my cousin. And that, that is why I think you have romance within you yet. I reject Bliss's evidence otherwise. How can you be romantic with one person when you're pining over another? Hmm?" Quenia quips lightly, challenging Duarte in light tones. "I believe your claims not! For, /I/ have heard your flowery words, regaling her fine charms, in messages to me. Or, has she spurned you in some way to make this a recent tragedy?" she asks, lifting a single brow lightly in question.

Lottie grinned as Bliss proceeded through the theatrical introduction for the dual itself. Brows lifting in unison as she observed the dialogue that followed from her safe spot. A few more bites had the sandwich finished and she dusted gloved hands against one another before setting them to the pockets of her coat.

"Good man!" Bliss says to Zebulon, a grin spreading across her face as she lifts the next fish from her bucket. She paces over to Duarte. "I have worked so hard, Count Duarte. I have strengthened my arm, worn fine clothing, befriended those close to you, Count Amadeo! And still I stir nothing in you. Not a thing." She sighs, listening to Quenia and shaking her head. "No, my lady, that was all a ruse, an attempt to throw her off so that he could crush her spirits!" she proclaims as she finally is face to face with Duarte, wrapping an arm over his shoulders and stepping in close to him. "Even now," she says, "Even with me right here, knowing this will likely be his last opportunity before my heart is crushed, Count Amadeo - you will refuse to even kiss me, won't you?"

Grazia heads in Quenia's direction, to show her support on the side of her vassal for the duel. "A romance or a tragedy?"

Gianna presses her lips firmly together, blinking several times. She continues to stand where she is, arms folded across her chest.

Duarte slides an arm between them and presses a finger to Bliss's lips, turning his head -away- and taking a step back. "Shan't."

Lucita gives Quenia a smile, lifting a gloved hand to wave at her. She is listening to the exchange between Zeb and Bliss.

Bashira gives a round of applause for Zebulon's helmet, "Very good, Sir Whitewake!" she tells him with a laugh. Then she settles in to listen to more things and there's a curious look to something Zebulon says and the woman keeps it in mind to ask him later. She settles in on her perch to just watch the duel when it starts.

"He shan't!" Bliss announces, lifting her arm off the man, clutching her chest like she is wounded and overdramatically turning a pirouette in front of Duarte. She throws the fish down right in front of him, then says, "A cold fish I have named you thrice!" she says, then just takes her bucket and turns it over in front of Duarte, five more fish falling out with the ice. "A cold fish, and I will prove it, with Gloria's blessing! Sir Whitewake, if you will defend the charge he is anything but, then draw your blade!" she says as she does her own, the steel ringing in the air.

Bliss wields a steel rapier with a swept hilt and red grip.

Gianna glances Duarte's way, a wry little twist curving her lips at the corners. It's a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Perhaps my Lady is correct? His heart is already lost to another that he will not forsake? Your charms are just not what he needs, Mistress Bliss?" Zebulon attempts to get into the verbal fray, but to say his social skills are lacking would be an understatement. Zebulon raises his saber towards her as Bliss approaches, pointing it forward, then turning his hand so that the blade goes from vertical to horizontal. "But for now, the decision shall be in our hands, it seems!" Setting his feet solidly on the grass, the Champion watches Bliss closely.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Ennettia, woman of a lazy temperament and happy nature, drifts over towards the duel, yawning lightly. She rather looks like someone has interrupted her nap to be here -- and she even Carrie's a glass of red wine, warm and mulled, that she sips. "Has anything amusing happened yet?" She asks, quite as if it doesn't involve her at all.

Duarte shuffles back to avoid fishy ice splashes. He re-crosses his arms and watches the bout commence.

"Oh, Bliss threw some fish at Duarte's feet and called him a cold fish. I disputed those claims, on your behalf of course, cousin," Quenia says with an impish gleam in her eyes. "After all, you were telling me how Count Duarte spoke flowering words to you not that long ago, of the romantic sort. He claims that wasn't possible, that he's a cold-hearted fish."

Bliss checked charm + performance at difficulty 15, rolling 18 higher.

With Zebulon's blade out, Bliss moves quickly in on the man, all the drama that was in her speech seems forgotten as she focuses on the actual swordplay now - and it's quick. It's stunningly quick. Immediately, the tip of her rapier strikes Zebulon's breastplate, a ring of steel on steel echoing as she takes a step to the side, her body twisting and dodging the saber strike that comes near her. None of her usual quips at the moment, just the flow of her body as she moves again, her rapier snapping at Zebulon's wrist, then bouncing up and very nearly slipping into a joint in his armor, the Lycene waggling her brows playfully. "Didn't you learn last time?" she asks with an impudent smile.

"Ah, I think that some romantic language on the part of the Count would be appropriate here, especially if the object of his affections is present," Grazia remarks, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Ahhh. Dearest Duarte." Ennettia says with amused affection. "Beautifully entertaining man. Also very exasperating some days. He is always pushing his luck." Still sipping, she watches the battle continue. But there is a sidelong glance at Quenia, and a murmur in that direction Grazia's suggestion, too, had her grin increasing, gaze flicking thoughtfully over the ladies present. Siiiiip.

It is a rematch for these two, at least in Zebulon's mind and he makes very sure to keep his feet on the ground and hand tightly on the saber. He makes a few tentative slashes at Bliss, but she is too quick for his blade to catch. Each attack missing her completely and hitting the air where she just was. Already his brows furrow in frustration, her hits dinging off his armour except for one the cuts through leather to catch a little flesh and then a more powerful strike from her biting into him. "Can we not talk about luck, please?"

Gianna walks a few paces. It's winter, it's cold, and standing in one place does not keep a person warm. She watches the duel, brow slightly furrowed.

"It is to my displeasure that the silken tone of my voice, and my selection of phrases, should be mistaken for romantic nonsense when clearly the intent is quite the opposite." Duarte says with a flicking dismiss of his wrist.

Bliss turns, that impudent smile still on her face as she goes to say something, but she is standing wide, wide open, not even seeming to give Zebulon the respect needed to note the fact that - no, really, that's an incredibly sharp weapon he is holding. And then the strike comes, and wherever it hits, it cuts deep. Dangerously deep. And the duelist just... collapses where she stands, letting out a gasp of pain and clutching the spot, blood quickly pooling around her.

Quenia's eyes open widely as Zebulon goes in for that final attack, and it just gets messy quickly. The humor that was on her face turns to real concern now. "Someone please call for a Mercy or a Healer. Now," she gets all business like.

Luck. And as soon as he says the word, expecting to fall down or toss his sword into the pond, which is the usual for him, he goes into an aggresive stance and lunges at Bliss at full extension, catching wide open and completely offguard. And after their last match, no one would blame her for not giving much credence to Zebulon. But luck, sometimes works the other way, too, and his saber slides right into a joint in her armor, sinking halfway into her upper torso and he pulls back as soon as he realizes the extent of the damage, sheathing his blade and lowering himself to check on Bliss. "Any healers here?"

Gianna's eyes widen considerably when Bliss crumples. Then she blinks, rapidly. "...Nobody thought a healer might be a good thing to have around before two people fought a duel?"

Coral, a dour formal thrall arrives, following Karadoc.

Coral, a dour formal thrall leaves, following Karadoc.

Bliss checked stamina + athletics at difficulty 35, rolling 4 lower.

"The helmet has made you far too powerful, Sir Whitewake, we're going to need you to take it off." Bashira shakes her head to that. Then there's a look around and she sees none of the healers that she knows, "I will see if I can find one." she states. Then the sailor is off to see if she can find someone to send back.

Grazia puts out a public call for a healer, frowning deeply as the Whisper goes down. "Honor duels can be quite dangerous," she notes seriously. "Hopefully someone will reply quickly."

Duarte watches the show with half-lidded eyes and a purse of lips, lofted brow. When the blow comes, though, the pretense is dropped - as well as his arms - and he rushes for his champion. He kneels beside and slides himself back, yanking her to elevate the wound before laying pressure upon it with both hands.

"I'm... okay," Bliss says, pushing herself to one knee, before there's a deep grimace of pain that crosses her face, her hand pushing on that wound /hard/. She's apparently dealt with this kind of thing before, and she gives an apologetic smile to Duarte. "Not like last time, sorry, Count Amadeo," the Whisper says with a dry laugh, not pushing him away, and actually - well, actually leaning against him for support.

Lottie gasped, both hands covering her mouth as she watched the Whisper collapse. Eyes darted about those of the Peerage as a healer was called for. She began to move, but Bashira was already en route and Grazia made a call as well, so she simply remained where she stood.

Well, that did not go as expected. Ennettia starts a bit at the sudden success, peering towards Bliss's crumpled form...and then looks around, perhaps hoping a healer will simply stroll in, and save her thr effort of having to find a messenger. And just....sips more wine, comfortably idling with gratitude as Bashira goes off to look. "This, truly, is why I keep out of them. Far too much effort,." Duels, honor, take your pick.

"Quite alright, love." Duarte murmurs. "Give it a few minutes here with pressure to slow the bleeding and we'll see if a mercy arrives. If not, we'll have you carried to the clinic."

Lucita is wearing red Blood will not show much, She moves toward Bliss saying. "I'm no healer, anything I can do to help? I can put pressure on a wound and not throw up or faint on you or anything, not much more than that but I can do that!

"If none can be found, then perhaps we can get her to the House of Solace, where she will be cared for." Quenia says, marching purposefully over to Bliss's side, to perhaps lend a hand with that.

Zebulon looks to be in shock himself, helping Bliss to get up, but his face is incredulous and slightly worried. "I'm glad you're conscious at least. We'll get a healer here as soon as we can." He looks over to Quenia and walks to her now that Bliss is up with others helping. "My Lady. Not how I expected this to go, to be honest, but your position has been defended."

"I... I think I can walk. Just going to be another scar," Bliss admits with a wry smile, then shakes her head at Lucita. She gives her a faint smile, then says, "A little help up wouldn't - wouldn't be unappreciated," as she tries to get to her feet with support. "I've had worse. Really!" But there's definitely pain in her voice.

And away they go! Slow and steady.... Maybe a doc will see them strolling along and lend a hand on the way.

Rhea, an apprentice shaman arrives, following Cybele.

There is a crowd all gathered around Bliss, consisting of Quenia, Zebulon, Lucita, and Duarte. Quenia at least looks more than moderately worried. And, perhaps a bit ashen faced. She steps away from Bliss when she keeps saying she's alright, giving the woman some space.

Bliss is walking, hand on a wound at her side, covered in blood, with assistance from both Quenia and Duarte in staying on her feet. "Well fought, Sir Whitewake!" she calls, still in good humor. But also very visibly in pain.

Quenia is overheard praising Bliss: For being a great champion of good humor, and being able to take a blow.

Gianna lingers on the outskirts, watching. And frowning. She shakes her head and mutters something under her breath.

The tall blonde shaman is muttering under their breath as they storm into Reflection Square, wearing their ebon-hued dress and redrain-red kirtle. The tall staff chimes as they move, and their apprentice follows after with a rather large satchel bag that presumably holds various healer equipment. They pause, regarding the scene. "There was a hue and cry for a healer. Cybele is a healer."

Quenia is overheard praising Zebulon: For being the winner of the duel with Bliss. See? You do have some skill.

Zebulon is overheard praising Bliss: Always the finest competitor to duel against!

Bliss is overheard praising Zebulon: Ow.

Lucita was about to help Bliss up when the others stepped in. She just gives a resigned nod and little wry smile that turns into a relieved one on seeing Cybele. "Oh, good, You're a good healer and am so glad to see you here! She says to her.

Duarte is helping Bliss along and being bled on. Maybe he's not a cold fish - fine - but he won't he won't be taking anyone home tonight if he doesn't wash up and change after this.

Lucita is overheard praising Zebulon.

Lucita is overheard praising Bliss.

Zebulon is overheard praising Bliss: Ouch! Way to take a hit!!

Quenia glances over at Cybele, and color returns to her face a bit. "Whisper Bliss fought bravely in her duel, but was gravely injured. If you could help, we'd be grateful, and I'll pay for any healing services you render."

Zebulon moves out of the way as the healer arrives, stepping over to the right side and nearer to Quenia and Lucita. His arms cross his chest and he watches worriedly, though the worst is passed with Cybele arriving. "My fool luck, even when it's good, it's bad?"

"Not going to turn down some help," Bliss says to Cybele, smiling at them and saying to Lucita, "Apologies, Baroness. " She leans her head toward something Duarte says, and nods firmly. "My lord, of course. I'm not bleeding for nothing!"

"I am glad the healer is here," Grazia remarks in general, watching this whole display with a serious eye, arms crossed over her chest. "There's too much blood for this to be anything good, I'm sure of it."

"I try to be a good healer." Cybele agreees with Lucita. Clicking their tongue, giving an upnod. "Rhea," The tall blonde gestures for their assitant to join, and Rhea sets down the large satchel bag, opening various compartments. "Cybele can help." The shaman assures Quenia. Stepping over to the Whisper slash Champion. "Need to see your wound and clear the space around it. Cover your modesty as you wish." They declare, as the regard Bliss with a critical eye.

Then after saying that, Bliss visibly winces, her hands clenching tightly - before she pulls it away to let the shaman examine the deep, piercing gouge she's taken. Modesty doesn't seem an issue, and she just says, "Someone take off the damn corset, I didn't think /that/ part through."

Lucita quietly nods to Bliss. obviously expecting Cybele to make the owie all better or almost all better. "You're in good hands with her."

As a healer arrives, taking everything in hand, and everyone surrounds Bliss, Ennettia just gives a tiny little smile, shaking her head and drifting away, sipping her wine. The duel is over, and it is COLD.

Quenia glances over at Zebulon, asking, "Isn't that how you became captain of your own ship?" she asks, though keeps an eye on both Cybele and Bliss. She looks relieved when Lucita mentions that Cybele is a good healer too.

Ennettia is overheard praising Bliss: She bleeds for glory rather beautifully

Ennettia is overheard praising Zebulon: should I find my honor, he can totes defend it

Quenia is overheard praising Cybele: For coming so quickly when a healer was called to the honor duel!

Zebulon moves over to work on Bliss' corset because he caused this mess and, well, as he said before, he doesn't pass up opportunities. He unlaces the back of it enough to giver her some breathing room and push it down enough for Cybele to do her work. He pats his fellow Champion lightly on the opposite shoulder from the wound and steps back out of the way of the real work being done.

Cybele continues to give various orders. Including one for water heated in Lagoma's flames. Then there's an awkward pause as the ex-Mercy realises they no longer have access to the torches lit from the Sacred Flame, and instead regular boiled water will do. The corset will probably need first aid from a skilled tailor once Cybele is done with it, and the shaman cleanses and cleans the wound, layering pastes of mixed herbs. Which they make Bliss chew into paste, and then spread over the wound to promote healing, before bandaging her tightly. Bliss -probably- wants a drink. Also her tongue is probably numb. "Cybele has put herbs that will help the flesh knit and dull the pain on your wound. Will need to change the paste twice a day. You can either come to me, or I will give you herbs to chew into paste again. Also not to be eating for one hour after chewing paste because tongue is numb so is easy to bite off." the Shaman explains. Giving a small nod of thanks to Zebulon for his aid. Already rinsing their hands of the blood in the left-over heated water. "Is there need for more healings?"

Duarte leaves it to the healer and steps back and away to give space. Once he is sure his champion is being taken care of he approaches Quenia and concedes with a courtly bow, "Lovely Marquessa, the Gods have spoken and I am a romantic after all, it seems!" He sweeps an arm behind Quenia's knees and hefts her into his arms. He does a single spin and holds her steady. "So let us retire to my chamber where I have champagne on ice and the fire is warm!"

Quenia blinks a bit as she's swept off her feet. Totally not where she was going with this, but she's so stunned that she's a bit helpless in Duarte's arms!

Duarte carries Quenia off!