[Game Thread] Interludes and Conversations

[Rolzup]

"Would I care for a drink?" Thomas repeats, a little confused. "Would I care for a drink? Is that a question that anyone ever says 'no' to? Certainly no one that I would care to meet!" He raises the tankard in salute, and tries a swallow. Thomas swishes it around in his mouth for a moment, raising a single eyebrow. "Interesting bouquet," he opines cheerfully. "Not my usual tipple, this, but one could grow used to it!"

He offers a sip to Jasper, but the monkey demurs with a shake of his head. Thomas sighs. "He's a teetotaler," he confesses, in a hushed undertone. "His only vice. Well, that and the ponies."

Jasper shrugs. It's a fair cop.

[ItsaVerb]

Aside from the sound of his own voice, and the din of strangers, another thing Vigg enjoyed in nearly equal measure was to be a listener, an obvious eavesdropper, a mediator, the straw that stirs the drink, to borrow a hackneyed phrase. He was curious about the dynamic between Radcliffe and Bombast.

The monkey absolutely fascinated Vigg, and when Bombast introduced himself, Vigg took the opportunity to poke the fancy drunken fellow for a story, by means of addressing his diminutive sidekick. "Jasper Poundworthy. Indeed! A pleasure to meet you, my good fellow. Tell me, how does it feel to always be the smartest guy in the room?"

Vigg did his best acting job, though he was by no means certain the joke he made might not be a fact, and looked at Poundworthy as he would look at a man, searching his eyes for recognition as though the monkey might speak an answer.

[Melchior]

"Ponies?" Radcliffe echoes, dryly. The sudden tangent the gentleman had run down concerning his pet monkey's vices was just bizarre enough that it momentarily brought all of Radcliffe' higher thought functions to a grinding halt as his brain ran rampant with the thoughts of just what a monkey might want with a pony and why it sounded like something that could probably be found somewhere in the city on a street corner.

Radcliffe blinked and shook his head. It was probably best to cut that particular line of thought off right there. Putting all thoughts of monkeys, ponies, and their hypothetical legally and morally dubious activities out of his head, Radcliffe focused instead on a much more familiar subject. "You must have a very undiscriminating palate, Master Bombast. Or very dead taste buds. No one around here drinks it because they want to admire 'the bouquet'. The ale here is scarcely one step up from swill, and its only redeeming virtues are its price and its abundance!" Radcliffe laughs and brings his tankard up to his lips and drains the remnants of his tankard.

[Rolzup]

Originally Posted by ItsaVerb

"Jasper Poundworthy. Indeed! A pleasure to meet you, my good fellow. Tell me, how does it feel to always be the smartest guy in the room?"

Grinning widely, Jasper bows again and makes a show of hiding his face in his hands. "Oh, don't be modest, old chap," Thomas chides him, "Without you, I'd likely be dead, or in a gutter somewhere, and you know it!"

The monkey grins again, and performs a little flip upon Thomas' shoulder.

"Quote honestly," Thomas continues, "He's a terribly sensible fellow, and I? I have the temperament of an artist, although not, thankfully, the poverty of one."

"Not quite," he amends, when Jasper raps him on the head. "My fortunes have been...unfortunate of late, I'm afraid. A strictly temporary stare of affairs, I'm certain!"

Originally Posted by Melchior

"You must have a very undiscriminating palate, Master Bombast. Or very dead taste buds. No one around here drinks it because they want to admire 'the bouquet'. The ale here is scarcely one step up from swill, and its only redeeming virtues are its price and its abundance!"

"Oh, I've had worse," Thomas laughs. "Much worse, quite. The worst of which I can only recall from my sufferings on the next morning, if I'm honest!" He shakes his head sadly, "The stuff that's served at university affairs simply boggles the mind. Some things are simply not meant to be fermented, gentlemen! Admittedly, the Shrieker wine was interesting, but then one could say the same thing about an abscessed tooth, what?"

[Melchior]

Radcliffe raises an eyebrow at Thomas' offhanded mention of university. "A gentleman and a scholar? I shall have to spread the word," he says with an easy smile.

"Aye, that sounds interesting all right. I don't think I'd fancy to meet the man who thought any part of something called a 'shrieker' would make for a good drink. Some people out there have too much curiosity and not half the sense to go with it." Radcliffe shrugs. Such had been the case with intellectuals for a long time. It was no small wonder, really. A life spent in some dank old library basement pouring over musty old tomes was bound to drive even the most dedicated of scholars a little batty.

For all the man's talk - and did ever seem to like to talk - this Thomas Bombast seemed to be an agreeable sort, quite unlike most of his social standing. He seemed the type of man that most people just got along with naturally. Radcliffe could even see him liking the gentleman. Shame that he would have to take all of his coin.

"Money troubles, you say? That is unfortunate." Radcliffe says. "You seem like a well-to-do man. I'm sure that you just need a bit of good luck to give you a push, to help you turn your fortunes around." The priest's smiles flashes predatory for a moment but the look is gone so quickly that it might have just been a trick of the light. Radcliffe's grin is easy and amicable as he shakes the dice cup sitting in front of him. "My previous companions have quit for the evening, regrettably leaving me with no one to test my luck against. What say you to a few friendly games, to go with our drinks and company? How about you, lad?" he adds, to Vigg.

[Rolzup]

Thomas beams. "I'm always up for a game," he says cheerfully. "Dice, cards, or what-have-you! I'm equally expert in all!" He waves away Jasper's faint sound of alarm. "Really, old boy, it will be fine. We're among friends here, after all."

He stretches out a hand over the tabe, and whispers words that refuse to be remembered. A pair of dice boil into being from nothingness, with six dots upon each face. "Shan't use my bones, I expect," Thomas says, scooping them up. With a wink, he rolls them, and they crumble into dust as they bounce.

[ItsaVerb]

"Count me in, Padre! Dice are among my favorite things to roll with..." the squeaky-clean comic said with a sardonic smirk. "I believe I've got time for a game or three," he added, raising his left hand, his fist curled, studying the top of his wrist for some inconceivable reason.

"I've got a date tonight with the most gorgeous creature I've ever seen, and in just a little while I'll need to be on my way to inform her of such. But until then, " Vigg proclaimed as he reached for his coin purse "a game would be divine! In a manner of speaking, of course "he concluded with a wink for the holy man.

"Are you in, Poundworthy, my good chap?"

Presuming the cleric, if that's what he was--hell, in a city this size Vigg couldn't be the only one who masquerades as a priest--would name the game, he waited, inquiring "I hope you don't mind, Padre, if I pester you with a few simple questions about your calling? You see, I'm writing a play..."

[Melchior]

Radcliffe raises an eyebrow at Thomas's magical display. "Fancy trick there, Master Bombast, but nay. I think we can manage without." Seeing the dandy perform magic - especially arcane magic - forced Radcliffe to reevaluate his opinion of the man. Even something as simple as a trick with some conjured dice was impressive, all the more so for the casual ease the man seemed to have at it. Perhaps he was not so foolish as Radcliffe had originally assumed, at the very least he was less defenceless. It made more sense now as to how a pampered noble had managed to drunkenly stumble his way through the more unsavoury parts of town. Radcliffe gaze flitted to the monkey on the noble's shoulder, re-evaluating his opinion of it as well. It would be the mage's familiar then. Possibly. Not all the wizards that Radcliffe had met had them. Perhaps it was simply a monkey, still it would be better to err on the side of caution.

Radcliffe reaches for the cup in front of him, shaking it slightly to rattle the dice inside as he grins bemused at Vigg's. "A date, lad? What are you doing here then? When I was your age I would have been out baying at the moon for some young beauty, not in some tavern." Radcliffe laughs. "Now I'm older, and the pretty, young girls don't like me so much, but its alright because now I have experience and coin," he adds with a wink.

"A play?" he echoes, thrown slightly for a loop when Vigg's brings up the subject of asking him a few questions. "That's a new one, lad. Can't say I've ever met an aspiring playwright in a place like this. Most of them keep up in the Ivy District, shouting excessively flowery insults at eachother and having sonnet contests or some such. I don't know what kind of play you're writing that I can help with, but ask away, lad."

Radcliffe shakes the cup hard, allowing the rattle of the dice to sound audibly in their little corner of the tavern. The smile that splits his face at the familiar rattle comes unbidden, and he gives a chuckle of contentment. "Ha, that right there friends is the third sweetest sound the gods' ever devised." He eyes the other two members at the table, "Are either of you familiar with Cee-lo?"

[Rolzup]

Jasper shakes his head at Vigg's offer and with an air of resignation settles down upon Thomas's shoulder.

"Oh, of course, of course! A gentleman would never cheat at dice, magically or otherwise. Nor would I, naturally," he adds, beaming at Radcliffe. "But yes, I know it! Called it High-Low back in school, mind, but the game's the same! And I'm quite the expert, if I may be so bold."


"As to you, good sir, please tell us more! I've long been fascinated by the thespian arts, and once considered a career upon the boards myself! Alas, 'twas not to be...."

[ItsaVerb]

"'Beauty' doesn't begin to describe this one, Padre" Vigg mused, his attention seeming to drift away for a moment as his cheeks took on a rosy hue.

"I spent the day out on the Cairlands, treasure-hunting at some old siege tower. Had I not been in such dire need of a bath because of all that, I would have stayed put. I'm a bundle of nervous energy now just thinking about her! I needed a walk just to calm myself down! She's a bard, performing tonight at the Wilted Rose. Miribelle Cedarsong... even her name sounds like a sweet melody. Based on how the crowd was heating up, I'd guess she'll be at it for a couple more hours--enough time for me to get back there and sweep that exquisite creature off her dainty elven feet!"

Noting Jasper's polite refusal to partake in a game of chance, Vigg responded to the Cleric's query. "Ah, four-five-six, eh? A wonderful game!"

The young minstrel's mind darted back for an instant to the story the beat-up sailor was telling when he walked in. It was as though that particular bit of knowledge that sat latent in his noggin wanted attention, to not be forgotten, as though it considered itself important somehow, but it was quickly dismissed once again.

"A play, indeed! The working title is "Under the Cloth: The Tawdry Tale of the Promiscuous Priest". I've never been much of a worshiper myself, but at the same time have always been quite fascinated by religious histories. Some of the most amazing stories ever told, I daresay.

The story's protagonist is a cleric who has a dickens of a time minding his less wholesome urges. He drinks a bit too much, and can't resist the ladies. He's shunned to a degree by the other priests in his order--mocked by some, outright reviled by others. I haven't filled in a lot of the plot points, but suffice it to say it should be a story of redemption, with a lot of comic misadventure along the way!" Vigg explained, underscoring the bit about misadventure with a goofy grin and a wag of his index finger.

Vigg recalled the previous day, when he was in his cleric disguise, how Feiya called him "Pillowman", teasing his costume. I wonder what this 'ancient symbol' is she's so obsessed with finding, and I wonder if it's really in that tower...

[Melchior]

"That a fact, lad?" Radcliffe muses as Vigg goes into the day's escapades. "I have some business out in the Cairnlands myself on the morrow. Some joint University/Temple archaeological somethingorother." Radcliffe really hadn't given it much thought. The whole thing promised to be a dreadfully boring affair, out under the hot summer sun.

The conversation quickly returns to Radcliffe preferred subject: dice. "Aye, that's what they call it in this part of the world, I suppose," Radcliffe nods. "Brought over by the Tianese years ago. I learned it myself during my time in Minata... gods it seems like ages ago." Radcliffe smiles a bit in fond remembrance before shaking his head, drawing his mind back to the present.

He gives a dry snort as Vigg outlines his idea for a play. Fate had a funny way of messing with people. The man might as well have been penning Radcliffe's biography, and the errant priest wasn't entirely certain how he should feel about that. Insulted at the man's insinuations about his life, abashed that said insinuations where almost entirely correct, or perhaps even a little flattered. How many other men back at the temple could say they had a play written about them? Well... there was Bartholomew, but he hardly counted.

He eventually settles on tentative agreement. "Aye lad," he says, with a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Might be your story rings a little familiar in this old head of mine. I might have some stories to share. But I talk best over a game."

"If the both of you know the game, then I trust I don't need to explain the rules? Now, we won't want anyone to run out of coin too quickly, so we'll start off small. One gold sovereign as an ante?" But not too small. Most would hardly considering betting in gold to be 'starting small', especially around these parts where most games were fought over silver and copper, but Radcliffe rather suspected that his present company was a little more used to dealing with larger sums than your average Absalom dock-worker.

[ItsaVerb]

Vigg fished a gold coin from his belt sack and flipped it spinning in the air and landing on the center of the table. "I'm all ears, Padre!" he says with a grin.

OOC Might want to just OOC like this with any instructions you have. Seems there are lots of variants to that game.

[Rolzup]

"I am, most assuredly, in," Thomas declares, flipping his own coin onto the table...from which it bounces, rolls, and hits the floor. A moment later, he reemerges from under the table, and carefully places his coin with the others'.

"Sign of good luck, that," he declares.

[Melchior]

Radcliffe has to suppress a snort at the sight of Thomas wildly flailing to catch his wayward coin. He sitll can't quite keep the grin off his face as he tosses his own golden coin into the center of the table.

Picking up the cup of dice he rattles it for a few moments before upending its contents and taking the first roll of the game. There was no need to tilt the odds in his favor so early in the evening. Not until he saw how luck favored him and and his companions, at least.

He examines his roll, a six pointer. Not bad, but hardly untouchable. He then scoops up the dice, and hands the cup to Vigg. "Well, lad, it's your play. You're the one with the questions. What do you want to hear?"

OOC   Winner Take All In this version of the game, each round involves two or more players of equal status. A bet amount is agreed upon and each player puts that amount in the pile or pot. Each player then has to roll all three dice at once and must continue until a recognized combination is rolled, or each player has rolled three times and not achieved any recognizable combination. Whichever player rolls the best combination wins the entire pot, and a new round begins. In cases where two or more players tie for the best combination, they must have a shoot out to determine a single winner. 4-5-6 The highest possible roll. If you roll 4-5-6, you automatically win. Trips Rolling three of the same number is known as rolling "trips". Higher trips beat lower trips, so 4-4-4 is better than 3-3-3. Point Rolling a pair, and another number, establishes the singleton as a "point". A higher point beats a lower point, so 2-2-6 is better than 5-5-2. 1-2-3 The lowest possible roll. If you roll 1-2-3, you automatically lose. If all players roll three times each, and no combination is rolled between them, the pot is banked and added to the next round's pot. For simplicity's sake, I choose to roll all three rolls at once. In this case, only the 'first' combination counts. The other rolls are voided. And if you do want to cheat, that's another set of rolls entirely...   Dice Radcliffe's roll(s): 3d6 2, 2, 6 Total = 10 3d6 2, 2, 6 Total = 10 3d6 4, 1, 5 Total = 10

[ItsaVerb]

"Nice roll, Padre!" Vigg offered with an amused smile, giving the dice cup a rattle himself. "I suppose the question that confounds me is the notion of a 'calling'. It's my understanding that clergy folk don't necessarily 'decide' to serve a god, rather they receive a message, some sign that pulls them to service. It's an important part of the character's persona, but never having that experience, it's hard for me to even begin to narrate the feeling. Perhaps you'd care to share the story of your own calling? What is it that moved you to serve Sarenrae?"

The young bard only moved his inquisitive glance from the priest's face to check the result of his dice roll.

Dice vigg's roll(s):

3d6	6, 2, 6			Total = 14
3d6	4, 3, 4			Total = 11
3d6	1, 3, 6			Total = 10

"Hmmm... can't beat the six-point with that roll. Looks like Sarenrae has your back this evening, Padre."