Lisebet has found a swing, and she's curled up on it, with a warm blanket and her cloak. All nice and cozy. With hopefully a good view of the snowballs to come flying in the not so distant future.

The duel has the tone of a mock-serious affair. A rope is cordoning off the area of the snowball fight, but notably it's not an open expanse upon which the self-proclaimed combatants are lobbing snowballs. There is a wide variety of both obstacles and cover, and a table for refreshments. Derovai and Fairen are chatting amiably enough at the table for the start of it, although the words " -- smash your face into the snow -- " may be heard from the dark-clad fellow.

Jasper is definitely not here to enjoy the gardens, though someone is -- the large hound at his side seemingly happy to bound through the snow, though always heeling close to his master's side. Surely it must be the idea of a duel -- fought with snowballs -- that has brought the Steelhart Lord. He paces alongside the cordoned-off-area, looking somewhat bemused. His gaze soon settles on Lisebet, and he angles towards her, offering her a bow. "My lady. A fine day for a... duel." He sounds a little unsure on that 'duel' part, regarding the two participants.

Not far away from Jasper, Rhys Llywelyn is standing with arms folded. A tilt of his head looks at the large hound, somewhat concerned that it might use the gardens to relieve itself. Not his business, though, and his attention turns back towards the cordoned off area to see if Fairen has arrived yet.

If any one were to look at the Marquis who has issued the challenge, or talk to him in anyway, they would know that he clearly is only feigning at a seriousness for the whole event. In fact, it's almost... As if he -likes- Derovai to some hidden, unmentioned degree? But we all know that could -never- be. Oh no. Still, Fairen is next to Derovai sharing in that conversation with him. At the mention of possibly having his face smashed into snow, onlookers will note a somewhat overly dramatic scuff at the comment, followed by an "As if! I'd like to see you try." Then a sly grin forms on his lips, followed by a wink.

Lisebet's feet don't reach the ground on the swing, not when she's curled up as she is. There is still lots of room though. "It is a fine chilly day for a snowball duel," she says. "I'm Lady Lisebet Farshaw, and a pleasure to meet you, m'Lord." She gestures to the swingset, with a nearly hopeful look. "Would you care to swing?" she asks.

Derovai stares at Fairen for a long moment. "No, you don't," he replies, and he means that, at least. "Break your glasses, too, four-eyes." And then he turns, quite sharply, for what's presumably 'his' area of the field, nearer the set of benches, leaving Fairen the area closer to the swings. "I really thought we'd have more people, Marquis. I suppose they all know what a one-sided affair this will be!" He studies the field, quite clearly sizing it up -- and very possibly Fairen as well.

Wrinkling his nose up at Derovai's comments, Fairen grins further but does actually pull his glasses off, and wave over one of his guards who takes them from him. Then he turns and makes his way over to his side of the field. "Well, it may very well be that one of us isn't as well liked as he thinks he is. Don't worry though, you'll have friends one day." He counters, turning to look back at Derovai when he is in position.

Another bow, deeper now, on Jasper's part. "Lord Jasper Steelhart, my lady," he introduces himself in turn. "And you, my lady." He's properly polite, a sternness to him only emphasized by his admittedly dubious look at the swing. "Uh. I'm happy to stand, but thank you," he says, carefully. "I can better see the duel," is added, like this is somehow justification for his refusal. The wolf-sized hound at his side seems to settle once they're still, attention briefly taken by Rhys as the man glances his way, but otherwise seems well behaved.

Derovai checked intellect + war at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Fairen checked intellect + war at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Derovai checked intellect + war at difficulty 15, rolling 17 higher.

Fairen checked intellect + war at difficulty 15, rolling 29 higher.

OOC NOTE FOR LOG (Derovai's player): Fairen's Dex+Archery roll is +6 of his successes.

Rhys' attention eventually turns back to the hound as he waits for the duel to get started in earnest. "Does your hound take to strangers, my lord?" he asks Jasper. "Or, rather, does he prefer to take a stranger's hand?"

Derovai checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 30, rolling 8 lower.

Fairen checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 24, rolling 1 lower.

Lisebet chuckles softly, and does let her legs slip out, moving to change her position, cloak and blankets still covering her almost entirely, so she can actually push the swing somewhat. "As you wish, m'Lord," she says to Jasper with an impish grin. Then there's attention on Rhys and Jasper's dog, curious at the question.

Derovai grins sharply back at Fairen. "May that day never come." He's found himself some good cover with those benches and a particularly well-placed fern -- even if its leaves are fairly brittle with snow -- and the first snowball comes sailing towards Fairen. He's not the best archer, but he's not incapable, and the first snowball is tossed quite easily towards the taller Marquis.

Adjutant General Theodora arrives, following Cullen.

Jasper gives a nod to Rhys of acknowledgement, "The latter. He's a Highhill War hound," the somber man says, like he expects that the reputation will be sufficient. And if it isn't, he adds, "He is not trained to friendliness with strangers, of a purpose." He shifts his stance somewhat, so he can include Lisebet, watching her on the swing for a moment. "Ah -- I believe they're starting?" although he seems uncertain. It's not precisely like a normal duel, after all.

Chuckling at that, Fairen grins and nods his head at Derovai, but is quick to dip for cover behind a mound of snow. As the first snowball is launched off, he ducks further down. Despite how tall he is, the cover seems to do it's job at least, and he scoops up and quickly forms a reaction, throwing a snowball back at Derovai. Neither him, nor Derovai are very -good- at throwing snowballs at each other, but they try. And Fairen chuckles while he does so.

"Fair enough, my lord," Rhys replies promptly and folds his arms once more. His affinity for animals not withstanding, things are starting to get good out in the Arena of Chills. The ranger looks excited at first as the Marquis looks to fling the snowballs, but winces slightly at the lack of form. He tries not to grin.

Hands shoved into his coat pockets, Cullen peers around the gardens with a slight shiver, possibly wishing he had thought to bring some gloves. Or had some made. Respectfully bowing his head at Jasper, Fairen and Lisebet, "Lord Jasper, Marquis Fairen, Lady Lisebet." A quick wave is given to Derovai, Rhys as well, although a look of a lack of recognition is on his coppery bearded face. He makes a beeline right for the swing and plants himself upon it.

Cullen has joined the The Lianne Pravus Ivy covered swing.

"We are starting!" Derovai points out. But Fairen chooses just that moment to throw, and a snowball wings off his black clothes, leaving a little trail of snow behind. "First blood to the Marquis!" he calls out. But he's not done. He has another snowball. It's a particularly icy one. But his lack of archer's form makes it bobble just a little.

Lisebet chose her seat on the swing purposefully. And she grins at Jasper. "So they are," she says. As the first snowballs fly, in such not so good ways, she laughs. "Do keep an eye lest the snowballs come our way." She can see the battle, of course, at least more or less. As Cullen arrives, she tucks her legs and feet back up, letting him keep the swing in motion. He's taller than she is, after all. "Lord Cullen," she says. "And oh my manners. You know Lord Jasper, but I am afraid I also do not know - " an inquiring look over at Rhys. "I'm Lisebet Farshaw, this is Lord Cullent Greenmarch," she says to the fellow they neither of them know. "And Lord Jasper and his Highhill War Hound." Derovai's comment gets a wave, just a little one, from Lisebet. Though she might have to look around the gentlemen nearby in order to see.

While Fairen doesn't want to be rude to Cullen, but at this point, he's focused. "Oh, is that so?" He calls out back to Derovai, working to form another snowball and launch it back at Derovai. But, he stands up just in time to take a glancing hit to his shoulder, the ice causing him to grunt a little bit. Then he grins and returns fire. "First blood, and much more to come!" He teases, chuckling and ducking down to make another snowball, not even looking to see if his throw made a hit.

"This is... quite unusual," Jasper can be overheard to comment, after a few of the snowballs have been exchanged, a furrow creasing his brow. Cullen's greeting earns and easy nod of his head, though the Steelhart's stern expression doesn't really waver. "Lord Cullen," he murmurs. With a clearing of his throat, he takes a step sideways, closer to Lisebet. "I shall be sure to throw myself in the path should some stray snowball come your way, my lady." He sounds serious. He might actually mean it.

Derovai closes the distance between himself and Fairen, aggressive. Surprisingly enough. But it also leaves him open for another hit, which he takes. "It's a wonder you can see to throw those things without your glasses, Marquis." And he fires his next snowball at Fairen, from a shorter distance and a little harder. At least none of their throws seem to be making their way towards the swings!

And then Jasper makes that grave mistake. Being the perceptive man that he is, Fairen grins at that. Rising, he peers over at Lisebet and Jasper, then focuses on the Lady and launches a snowball right at her. Of course, this makes him a target as he has been focusing on them, and not on Derovai for that split second that the distance is suddenly closed between them. Turning, he takes the hit right in the chest, another grunt escaping him and causing him to take a half step back. "Uff!" He lets out, reaching down to make another snowball and toss it at Derovai, carefully matching the aggression, if not, falling just short of it.

"Lady Farshaw, I am pleased to meet you as well as Lord Cullen Greenmarch and Lord Jasper." Rhys gives a bow, taking his eyes off the match for just a second as his boots make a crunching sound within the snow. "My name is Rhys Llywelyn. My family have served Marquis Fairen for quite some time. I suppose I am here as moral support. And to see the Marquis taste glorious victory." His voice trails, "Or perhaps icy defeat."

"It is pretty unusual," Cullen admits to Jasper while boots dig into the snow, sending the swing back and forth in a lazy arc. "And no worries, if any head towards Lady Lisebet, they'll likely hit me in the face now, given that I took the far end of the swing...but it appears Derovai is pretty focused with his aim. I'm not too concerned. How are things in the Steelhart House?" Sliding closer to Lisebet, he nods at the introduction, then reaches down to scoop up some snow and make a snowball with a sneaky look on his face. When Fairen launches one at Lisebet though, Cullen can't let that slide, no. With an expert arm and precise aim, the Greenmarcher hurls the ball of snow and ice right at the Marquis!

Jasper checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 15, rolling 14 higher.

Fairen checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 15, rolling 13 lower.

Derovai snaps a sharp look towards Cullen. There's intensity in his gaze, and actual, sudden venom in his voice. "/Master Voss/," he corrects Cullen. This breach of protocol makes him get, as luck would have it, creamed by a snowball Fairen launches at short distance. Wham! Direct hit to the head. He flinches for a moment, staring darkly at Fairen as he tries to regain his composure. There's an opening there, for a few seconds.

Lisebet is completely unaware of any snowballs flying her way, instead paying attention to those she is conversing with. She should no doubt be watching the ... duel. Of course. But she's instead chatting, the social butterfly that she is. "Pleased to meet you, Master Rhys. I am - and then she does turn to look over at Derovai, at the sudden venom in his voice as he's iterating his own name. Confusion for a moment more on her face.

Fairen checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

"Moral support is a fine gesture," Jasper approves with a nod towards Rhys. With a roll of his shoulders, gaze still half on the duel, he answers Cullen, "Well indeed, my Lord. We had a nice showing at the Crafter's Gallery -- some uh, /interesting/ pieces modeled," is all he'll say. He's clearly not much for fashion, given the bland disinterest in his voice. "But, uh--" and that's when Fairen launches a snowball towards Lisebet. True to his word, the Steelhart knight takes two great strides to the left, the snowball thudding against his chest, his cloak bearing the brunt of it, though undoubtedly some of it getting through. Cullen's reach for his own snowball earns a grunt: "That's hardly sporting," he comments, as he half turns to make sure Lisebet is largely untouched.

When the snowball that he throws at Derovai hits him right in the face, Fairen actually gasps visibly, clearly not -meaning- to hit him there. "Oh my, Master Voss, are you-" BAM! The snowball Cullen throws at him hits him, in right in the hip, interrupting his commentary. Suddenly he turns to look back for whoever threw it. Perceptive as always, he wrinkles his nose at Cullen and reaches down to form a counter attack.

Cullen checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 24 higher.

Derovai checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 52 higher.

Rhys looks back towards the watchers and then back towards Marquis Fairen. "My lord, am I supposed to defend you? You seem very out numbered." Turning back to Cullen, Jasper, and Lisebeth, he looks sadly at them. "I'm afraid this may make us enemies." And then to the Hound, "I am especially sad about you, vicious hound."

Derovai stares at Fairen. "I'm fine." And indeed, he appears to not even have noticed the snowball to the face, after a moment or two, shrugging it off as if it were a paper ball instead of a snowball. But as the duel starts to disintegrate, Derovai shrugs. His jaw works for a moment. And he spreads his hands in a mute gesture of surrender, extending a leather-gloved one towards Fairen. "Marquis, I shall note in the next State of the Compact, when I report this most auspicious duel, that you are a far better snowball-thrower than I had thought."

Lisebet gets a little spray of snow, the puffs that come up when the snowball hits Jasper, and that's about it. She shakes her head. "Lord Fairen, that was not even fair," she calls, though she's amused. Snowballs after all. "C- Lord Cullen, don't - let them finish their duel, right? It's okay." Though of course, her words may be just a little bit too late. Oops. "We can always have a free for all snowball fight after?" She looks over to Rhys, with a grave expression on her face. "Oh I certainly hope not, since we've only just met." But now she is watching Fairen and Derovai, far more intently, in case there are other misaimed snowballs.

Appearing quite satisfied by that attack launched on the Marquis, Cullen slowly pushes the swing to continue moving while peering over at the the pair. "Master Voss. Alright, I would have called you Goodman by default, but I shall remember." Glancing over to Rhys at the introduction, he chuckles. "I see, well. It's good for you to come and offer moral support to your liege, that's definitely helpful I would think." And then Jasper seems to be getting hit as a human snowball shield, a chuckle in his throat. "See, that's why you keep us knights around, Lady Lisebet. We have to take a snowball for you on basis of honor."

"Yes, let them finish, Lord Cullen," Jasper says in support of Lisebet, as he dusts snow off his cloak. "They do seem to be... quite enjoying themselves," the Lord adds, with a kind of bafflement. "I'm unclear what the winning condition was, however. Did anyone hear?" Stormbringer looks blankly at Rhys. The dog responds to tone, but there's no apparent malice in Rhys' words, so the hound seems rather untroubled.

Counter attack snowball made and ready, Fairen stands back up, eyes on Cullen for a moment. Though Rhys is talking to him and he grins back at the man, ready to answer his question. But he holds his response even still to instead focus on Derovai, chuckling softly and nodding his head in agreement with him. "Very good Master Voss. I think that concludes our duel. Now. Perhaps you will provide covering fire while Master Rhys and I make a move to extract revenge on Lord Steelhart, and Lord Greenmarch?"

"I am sure that the snowball that came our way was an accident," Jasper adds. Oh, how little he knows of the Marquis.

Derovai raises a brow at Fairen's reply. "Absolutely." And, hurriedly, he whips up a few more snowballs, taking Fairen's side in the duel that seems to have become an impromptu battle, lobbing them towards the swingset. " -- Steelhart?" he wonders idly. "There's another one around?" And, of course, Jasper's the only candidate, whom he studies closely.

Rhys shrugs at the dog and kneels down in order to begin packing his own snowballs. Apparently, he believes there's a trick to it. "I am well worn from many snow-battles between Leaholdt and Ashford Keep. Though, not since I was small."

Squinting at Fairen when he suggests he and Rhys exact revenge upon the two Lords, Cullen hops off of the swing quite nimbly and scoops up a snowball with the sort of agility and grace that comes with many years of skulking and leaping around the Greenwood as a child and a guerilla fighter. With a cock of his arm, a snowball goes hurling at Derovai. "Oh, apologies, /Master Voss/. Eat some ice with that!" Yes, the Sword is taunting him. He's really not above that, a look of glee given to the Marquis and Rhys, patting Jasper on the shoulder afterwards. "Come on, Lord Steelhart. Time to show them."

With Derovai providing covering fire, Fairen chuckles and ducks down behind a mound of snow, throwing 'better' aimed, more 'calculated' shots at the Jasper, and then over at Cullen. Better aimed, of course, in this case meaning less than poor shots. Even still, he isn't really built for this sort of thing. "Quick, Rhys! To arms!" He calls out playfully.

Certainly, if nothing else, Jasper's somber expression even in the face of a snowball duel is enough to mark him as a Steelhart. "Ah, well done...?" he sounds a little uncertain as to the conclusion of the duel. And he's definitely not making any move to arm himself with snowballs, either, Cullen's encouragement aside. "I really don't think that's--" he frowns, as one snowball goes flying past him, the other smacking his leg. "--proper." He even says it with a straight face, as the Marquis and other Lords join in.

Lisebet yelps as she spies snowball making happening, and the swing goes wheee as Cullen hops off. She then ducks to the other side of the swing, looking for cover, her blanket left on the swing, but at least she won't freeze in her cloak. She ducks, and actually does try her hand at making a snowball and then throwing it. For all the good that will do. She does laugh though. Maybe this isn't even her own first snowball fight - but at least her second.

"At once, m'lord!" exclaims Rhys as he hops across the long end of one of the long benches, prancing across with unerring deftness. "For Leary!" He slings his snowball towards Lord Cullen, aiming for the navel before he leaps off the bench and into the air.

Laughing when he successfully rallies Derovai and Rhys to his side, Fairen calls out as well. "For Leary-Voss!" He declairs, suddenly merging the names into one mass. Of course, he is -terrible- at throwing them, so his throws most often miss. More often than he gets hit, really. He is actually getting somewhat peppered. Even Lisebet's throw lands a glancing hit, at least. To which he responds with a throw of his own, towards her.

Derovai halts his snowball at Rhys' cry. He doesn't throw to support Leary, and he steps aside, just watching. Apparently Fairen and Leary are being abandoned to fight their own battle against Greenmarch, as Derovai moves to lob a snowball /directly/ at Jasper.

As a snowball from Rhys hits him square in his leather coat covered abdomen, the snow spraying prettily against it, Cullen scoops up another handful, patting it into a sphere of icy vengeance, the former Shave forest fighter locking in on the ranger and giving it a hurl right for the neck. Brr, cold. Fairen's own misaimed snowballs get a look of confusion before the Greenmarcher yells out, "Are you aiming at the ground? The trees? I think you need Lady Arcadia here to help you with this..."

Jasper's busily dusting snow off his leg when the incoming snowball from Derovai impacts him squarely in the chest. He glances back, around -- /everyone else is/ -- the mental wheels can just about be seen as, finally, Jasper gives into the social pressure and bends to build a snow ball. He's clearly not that practiced at it -- doesn't pack it hard enough, and it falls apart far short of hitting Derovai, his intended target. A quick glance at the others gives him a hint, however, and his second shot at least lasts the distance.

Lisebet might be just as bad at throwing as Fairen truthfully. Maybe worse. She knows it and so she's not throwing too many. She tries to duck the one that Fairen throws her way, but it hits her shoulder sending puffs of snow everywhere. Which makes her laugh, the sound pealing out across the area. "Snow is fun," she declares loudly, once she can speak again. "But it is also cold." Now she's finding her blanket and using it as more of a shield.

Derovai stops, and laughs outright, not especially kindly, as Jasper's first snowball falls short. "That all you've g -- ?" And again, he's clipped by a snowball, the second one from the Steelhart, and he flinches away, admitting, "Nice. Tell Seth he should learn how to throw too. I bet he'd like to get the chance to throw one at me." And he juggles his own snowball, waiting and watching, a neutral party for a moment. And then there's a message, delivered to him by a fellow who looks not unlike Derovai. Maybe a little leaner and hungrier. The dark-clad man reads it, and frowns. His gaze flicks up towards the surroundings for a moment. "Stupid jumped-up -- " He doesn't finish the wording, shaking his head at the delivery man. No, no reply necessary, apparently. But he doesn't look pleased.

Executing a roll across the snowy ground, coppery hair filled with ice and powder, Cullen makes a few quick snowballs and throws them quickly at Fairen in succession, nailing the Marquis with a chortle, although he glances backwards to make sure Lisebet hasn't been buried in by this point. Looking like she's alright with her blanket as a defensive barrier, the Greenmarcher squints and rises to his feet.

Fairen doesn't really seem to stop laughing, grinning at Cullen's taunt. "Hey, maybe I can scare the ground around you!" He yells back, preparing another snowball which he lobs at the Greenmarch man. As Derovai pulls out of the fight, he chuckles and glances over at him. "No no! He didn't mean it!" He calls out, but he does see Jasper trying to throw a snowball at Derovai. So, he throws one at the Steelhart man. It misses, but this one only just hardly. With Derovai suddenly upset though, he full on stops with the games, straightening himself out and looking right at Dero. "Are you alright, Master Voss?"

Rhys is hit! A mid-air shot, right to the throat. With the graze of a solmine stork, Rhys lets out somewhere between a croak and a caw as the ice explodes on his neck and sends it down his shirt. He falls behind a bush. "Master! I am done for!"

The serious-looking Steelhart is not smiling. Nope. But there's a definite lightening of gray eyes as Jasper moves, bends to grab some snow, plants himself in place like he's preparing to take on a bladed foe -- and returns fire. He clearly has a lot to learn about snowball warfare. "I'll advise him to get in some practice, Master Voss," he says -- and then pauses when the other man takes a messenger. Clearly, he's too honorable to take advantage of the clear opening -- whether it be Derovai or the Marquis, when his snowball goes flying near to him.