Event RP between Rook, Rigby (House Aiolfi/Sandro) and Degu (Harpur)
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Aiolfi — 03/25/2021
As was often the case in Thornmouth, the day was lovely, the skies were clear, and the breeze blew a crisp note over the city from the ocean, dispelling the occasional murky stench of the canals.
Gian di Aiolfi, under Galen I, was not above calling a canal race or a bear-baiting on such a day, and many memories were long. Alessandro di Aiolfi liked his dogs too much for that, but there was no harm in organizing small matches on his own property. One could get the suspicion that he might have been recruiting. Or the mercenary house simply liked these kinds of things. When events sprung up around Sandro, typically nobody died. And for events like these, perhaps in a bid to deter the expectant eyes of the new king, he'd recently opened the events up to non-humans - and didn't even grease the setup between the magical and mundane. Perhaps under duress.
If there had been any suspicions of failing physical or mental health, he was determined not to let it show; the Lord was present - though more-so among the humans - strong, challenging and a little mischievous, and utterly unwilling to play at anything deeper or more revealing that even hinted to the tragedies that the family had underwent for several years.
Tea and finger-foods were prepared and available, and an impromptu game of Calcio - or football - seemed to have sprouted on the property; otherwise a game of skill and chance and a few simple card-games seemed to be mainstays.
THE POMME
The rules were simple: you're given the choice of a spear or a bow and arrow, and three chances. Take a running start, and throw the spear at the target; today, it was an apple suspended from a tree on a thin rope.
Roll 1d3
1 - Miss!
2 - A HIT, a palpable it!
3 - You are probably endangering people around you. Or at the very least, the tree the apple is hanging on.
The prize will come to the first to hit the apple, and would be a weapon, one of Aiolfi's collection from the far-flung corners of the many worlds, given by the head of house, himself (or a willing personal guardsman, should he not for any reason wish to do this).
THE CARDS
Frussi - The maledetto, the cursed card game. Buy-in low, stake little and sparingly.
- Players are dealt four cards. !roll 4d20
- If two or more match, the player takes the equivalent shards from the pool.
- Betting the amount of the pool is allowed; losing the bet requires that amount paid to the pool
- Four of a kind wins the entire stakes and ends the game.
Basetta
- Dealer begins game. !roll 3d20
- Players draw a card from the pack with the aim of matching any exposed card. !roll 1d20
Rigby — 03/26/2021
[ @everyone leisurely dice open!]
Rook — 03/27/2021
Despite the hour, Jack had made a point to come about in support of Tommaso. He was covered up completely with a special pair of glasses to protect his eyes as well and he'd likely have to sit, just because of the fatigue from being out during the day. Another person had joined them, a girl of unknown age (likely young-looking still) and of an olive complexion as most of Thornmouth's inhabitants. Her red hair was tied up tightly, though her outfit was a great deal more casual than the pair she hovered around.
If anyone poked Tommaso about his group, he'd play them off as a 'non-concern' despite knowing Sandro might have some concern about the guard. 'Merely there to watch'.
His first shot missed the target, but he'd play that off as 'just warming up' as he stepped back and allowed the next person their shot without being in the way.
Degu — 03/27/2021
Harpur didn't... agree with Sandro on opening the event up to supernaturals and he was angry about it to say the least. He did his best to hide how he felt from Sandro though, the man was going through enough though he might catch some sour looks being passed around at the guests.
Well, he could just try to have a good time while he had the chance. He'd dropped half a mention of the event to Bazil the day before at work if only because he supposed the more people turned up the happier Sandro might be. Jaxamir too.
He didn't actually realize it was Jack given all that he was wearing, at least not at first and grinned as he called out "Master Tommaso!" he had seen the miss and chuckled "Ah don't worry... let me show you how it's done, lad." he boomed cockily and hoisted the spear up with a strong hand. He ran and threw it a bit TOO hard (fueled by rage and pent up frustration over everything going on in his life) and it went off-course past the tree and took a huge chunk of bark with it in the process. Harp stared with wide eyes and then flushed bright red, grumbling and saying nothing as he headed off to bring the spear back.
How embarrassing!
Rigby — 03/28/2021
If stories about the effects of Sandro's rather-understandable grief, or his more-mysterious deterioration got out, the Lord was determined not to show it, today. With genuine joviality; he mingled, he at least felt that he was recalling things properly (though perhaps many with whom he spoke didn't have the heart to tell him no - or he'd managed to scrounge up enough confidence in his delivery for onlookers that if he had been lying or unknowingly futzing details, it could've easily slipped by.
And even though he'd opened the event up to the population at large - a move very savvy, he'd figured, with the right eyes watching - he could not help but bristle when seeing Tomm around that guard. Aeson was concerned. Harpur no doubt was livid.
He'd not known that girl, but he did rather predictably ask Tomm after the both of them, earning that rather-expected answer. He'd not seemed entirely convinced, but he'd left it alone. Somewhat. Kept an eye on them anyway.
But it wasn't the time or place to grill the guy. They had to be schooled. And he did so, sauntering over with enough of a playful grin. "Excellent, gentlemen, it seems that we might need a refresher course. Watch. Learn. All in the shoulders."
He might've been getting old, but he was still condottiere. He hoisted that spear, tried a running start, and hefted it at the apple.
And that apple not only split, one piece caught on the tip of the weapon and the entire thing ended smartly skewered in the dirt beyond the branch. He hadn't even cheated, either! As the staff scrambled to tie a fresh one back, Sandro clapped both Tomm and Harpur on the shoulders.
"I can't very well reward myself. One more go, the both of you!"
[Rolled a 2!]
Rook — 03/28/2021
Tomm would likely try to smooth things over; Jack was a guard and the girl was just a companion of his that was bored. Not much more than that. Sandro got the first apple, and he decided to try his hand at a spear as well. Of course, he didn't have much experience with throwing spears, so it went way off unfortunately.
It happened really.
Rigby — 03/28/2021
"I'll help you out if Aeson doesn't kill me for the effort!" That second shoulder-clap came with a stealthy, sneaky consolation, palmed quietly like a sharper; Sandro passed the younger man a sheathed dagger. (one that he'd likely been hiding under his coat, anyway), oddly shaped, with an Aiolfi wolf - or was that a werewolf? - tooled on the sheath; backdating it to well before the tigre. https://i.imgur.com/4jWRnPT.png
It was likely a coincidence that one edge of the blade was thinly lined with silver. The family was old, monster-hunting blood, after all - this wouldn't have been a dig at Tomm's current companion, surely. Entirely. It was too old for that, right?
"I didn't give this to you."
Harpur Eberhardt — 03/28/2021
"Yeah yeah" he snorted as Sandro stepped up to show them how it was done. They wouldn't be best friends if they weren't competitive though, right?
Harpur was ready to rib Sandro lightly if he missed but then the man made easy work of it and the captain's jaw hung open a little "I-" he huffed and pouted subtly.
"Good Throw."
Grumble grumble!
"I was just having a bit of bad luck, watch this-" when it was his turn to throw again he... MISSED...again and took another chunk of bark off the tree, covering his face with one hand.
God above...
Finally when his third turn came he struck the apple and let out a breath of relief and smiled. He hated to admit but there was a sentimental reason for him wanting to win this thing... he was worried he was losing his best friend after all and... heck ... the rest spoke for itself.
"Just a bit of a bad luck day" he said and puffed his chest out as he regarded Sandro. Sandro knew he could throw a spear by now right? ...this stupid apple was just showing him up that's all!
Rook — 03/28/2021
Tommaso inclined his head to Sandro's comment. "I'll get there." Well, he would have, but the game was won and instead, he was handed a dagger. "You sure?" The silver was obvious, but if Jack noticed, he didn't show it.
The quiet girl did, but she merely smiled.
The blade was tucked away, though, and he'd gather up his bow which was immediately swiped by their female companion. A means to carry it for him and little else. "Might wander, see if my younger siblings want to come over and play with your younger ones. It was fun." If not stopped, the trio would likely leave. Jack was more lethargic, given the hour, but the woman glanced over her shoulder at Sandro a moment longer.
Sandro — 03/29/2021
"You will. I'll see to it, come with your sister, we'll get you practice, yet." And he angled his head."I'm sure. Barring anything your father says. So just don't tell him!" As if that was the largest issue at hand when presenting said dagger. Perhaps as far as Sandro was concerned, it may have been.
"That's a good plan, wrangle them quickly, before Jac starts thinking he can play the pomme, too." Not when he could barely heft a bow or when the spears were still as big as he was! "Try the cards on your way out, if signore Bosco hasn't already sat and fixed the stakes, he's an old bastard."
As that group left, if he could, he'd lock eyes with that woman. And on not recognizing her, he was rather sharply reminded that he could not trust his memory, anymore. Had he met her before? Had Aeson told him - or warned him? The worry was mostly internal, unwanted and self-reflective...but it may have written itself across his face. And should some snoopy vampire poke into his thoughts, the worry was plastered large across a brain full of holes, torn by grief and bleeding out around something internal, something physical that gnawed away at it, bit by bit.
But eventually that new apple did split, and that earned a playful smile from the mercenary Lord.
He couldn't have hidden a good deal of larger weaponry under his coat, Aiolfi or not, and so with a rather casual gesture of his hand that served as an unspoken command to waiting staff, he waved over a woman, one who carried a long, sheathed sword in two careful hands.
"Bad luck days happen to us all. Only means we recognize the good when we see it., and not after it's passed. One out of the collection, as promised!" He would take it from the help, and present it to Harpur: A sword, one that was jagged, one that bit. The same single-silvered edge was present, here - but it likely did nothing to shake any sense that he'd taken a dig at Jack earlier. But it did nothing to emphasize it, either. Tooled on this scabbard was the similar werewolf-heraldry, but a newer addition - a fenghuang with a long, plumed tail, done by a different hand than the other artist - curled across its other side.
Harpur Eberhardt — 03/30/2021
Harpur smiled softly as the staff came forth and presented the blade to him. He took the sword in hand and tested its weight there before fastening the scabbard to his hip and sheathing it.
"Thank you, my friend." he moved in to slap a hand a few times on Sandro's back, ever so close to turning it into a hug but never quite closing the gap enough for it to be considered one.
Even if he didn't agree with all the supernaturals..
"It's a good event...you always host good events. Perhaps if you have the time we could play some cards?" he'd noticed how many card games there were.
"I'm going to go speak to Master Tommaso, but if you are up for a game I will be back shortly."
And with that he was off in search of Tommaso who'd headed off with his friends.
Rook — 03/30/2021
Tommaso had stayed to see the cool prize, a curious look given to the blade. A quiet nod was his congratulations, as well as an appraising look. Kid of few words!
Harpur would find him with his younger siblings, who were talking about the field game they were all playing. The other pair stood off to the side, joined by Cienna, who was pretending she could handle drawing a bowstring back.
"Just remember not to competitive." Tommaso said, only looking away at the sound of the Captain's approach.
Sandro — 04/02/2021
Sandro must've either guessed what the effect of giving Harpur a giant blade upon both Harpur and Tomm might have been, or had followed Tomm's look to the blade, and flashed the much-younger man a rather conspiratorial grin. "More where that came from. Find 'Rica or myself afterwards if you don't sit down for the cards."
Harpur swooped in for that back-slap and Sandro caught it gamely, answered with one of his own, pulled the guy in for a tight half-hug. Whatever rumors that might have been floating around about the Lord's mental decline, it had not yet affected the physical, and both were already a pair of giants.
"Come back over and we'll sit down for a game. I'm not dealing. It'll naturally be fair." He didn't exactly have the personal reputation for cheating, but he'd have to work a little harder against years of that reputation!
Enrica had meanwhile been home and wandering the event, tailed doggedly by a Jac that was pretending he wasn't, and she'd soon land among the Grimani children as well - likely with Cienna and her bow, checking up on her as discreetly as she could.
(Marc, meanwhile, appeared to have been stolen into a bundle of very elderly and dignified-looking gentleman - many who were looking down their nose at the less-human company - and looking for all the world like he'd been stuffed and hung out to dry among even-drier conversation, and that he was looking for the quickest way out of it!)
As was often the case in Thornmouth, the day was lovely, the skies were clear, and the breeze blew a crisp note over the city from the ocean, dispelling the occasional murky stench of the canals.
Gian di Aiolfi, under Galen I, was not above calling a canal race or a bear-baiting on such a day, and many memories were long. Alessandro di Aiolfi liked his dogs too much for that, but there was no harm in organizing small matches on his own property. One could get the suspicion that he might have been recruiting. Or the mercenary house simply liked these kinds of things. When events sprung up around Sandro, typically nobody died. And for events like these, perhaps in a bid to deter the expectant eyes of the new king, he'd recently opened the events up to non-humans - and didn't even grease the setup between the magical and mundane. Perhaps under duress.
If there had been any suspicions of failing physical or mental health, he was determined not to let it show; the Lord was present - though more-so among the humans - strong, challenging and a little mischievous, and utterly unwilling to play at anything deeper or more revealing that even hinted to the tragedies that the family had underwent for several years.
Tea and finger-foods were prepared and available, and an impromptu game of Calcio - or football - seemed to have sprouted on the property; otherwise a game of skill and chance and a few simple card-games seemed to be mainstays.
THE POMME
The rules were simple: you're given the choice of a spear or a bow and arrow, and three chances. Take a running start, and throw the spear at the target; today, it was an apple suspended from a tree on a thin rope.
Roll 1d3
1 - Miss!
2 - A HIT, a palpable it!
3 - You are probably endangering people around you. Or at the very least, the tree the apple is hanging on.
The prize will come to the first to hit the apple, and would be a weapon, one of Aiolfi's collection from the far-flung corners of the many worlds, given by the head of house, himself (or a willing personal guardsman, should he not for any reason wish to do this).
THE CARDS
Frussi - The maledetto, the cursed card game. Buy-in low, stake little and sparingly.
- Players are dealt four cards. !roll 4d20
- If two or more match, the player takes the equivalent shards from the pool.
- Betting the amount of the pool is allowed; losing the bet requires that amount paid to the pool
- Four of a kind wins the entire stakes and ends the game.
Basetta
- Dealer begins game. !roll 3d20
- Players draw a card from the pack with the aim of matching any exposed card. !roll 1d20
Rigby — 03/26/2021
[ @everyone leisurely dice open!]
Rook — 03/27/2021
Despite the hour, Jack had made a point to come about in support of Tommaso. He was covered up completely with a special pair of glasses to protect his eyes as well and he'd likely have to sit, just because of the fatigue from being out during the day. Another person had joined them, a girl of unknown age (likely young-looking still) and of an olive complexion as most of Thornmouth's inhabitants. Her red hair was tied up tightly, though her outfit was a great deal more casual than the pair she hovered around.
If anyone poked Tommaso about his group, he'd play them off as a 'non-concern' despite knowing Sandro might have some concern about the guard. 'Merely there to watch'.
His first shot missed the target, but he'd play that off as 'just warming up' as he stepped back and allowed the next person their shot without being in the way.
Degu — 03/27/2021
Harpur didn't... agree with Sandro on opening the event up to supernaturals and he was angry about it to say the least. He did his best to hide how he felt from Sandro though, the man was going through enough though he might catch some sour looks being passed around at the guests.
Well, he could just try to have a good time while he had the chance. He'd dropped half a mention of the event to Bazil the day before at work if only because he supposed the more people turned up the happier Sandro might be. Jaxamir too.
He didn't actually realize it was Jack given all that he was wearing, at least not at first and grinned as he called out "Master Tommaso!" he had seen the miss and chuckled "Ah don't worry... let me show you how it's done, lad." he boomed cockily and hoisted the spear up with a strong hand. He ran and threw it a bit TOO hard (fueled by rage and pent up frustration over everything going on in his life) and it went off-course past the tree and took a huge chunk of bark with it in the process. Harp stared with wide eyes and then flushed bright red, grumbling and saying nothing as he headed off to bring the spear back.
How embarrassing!
Rigby — 03/28/2021
If stories about the effects of Sandro's rather-understandable grief, or his more-mysterious deterioration got out, the Lord was determined not to show it, today. With genuine joviality; he mingled, he at least felt that he was recalling things properly (though perhaps many with whom he spoke didn't have the heart to tell him no - or he'd managed to scrounge up enough confidence in his delivery for onlookers that if he had been lying or unknowingly futzing details, it could've easily slipped by.
And even though he'd opened the event up to the population at large - a move very savvy, he'd figured, with the right eyes watching - he could not help but bristle when seeing Tomm around that guard. Aeson was concerned. Harpur no doubt was livid.
He'd not known that girl, but he did rather predictably ask Tomm after the both of them, earning that rather-expected answer. He'd not seemed entirely convinced, but he'd left it alone. Somewhat. Kept an eye on them anyway.
But it wasn't the time or place to grill the guy. They had to be schooled. And he did so, sauntering over with enough of a playful grin. "Excellent, gentlemen, it seems that we might need a refresher course. Watch. Learn. All in the shoulders."
He might've been getting old, but he was still condottiere. He hoisted that spear, tried a running start, and hefted it at the apple.
And that apple not only split, one piece caught on the tip of the weapon and the entire thing ended smartly skewered in the dirt beyond the branch. He hadn't even cheated, either! As the staff scrambled to tie a fresh one back, Sandro clapped both Tomm and Harpur on the shoulders.
"I can't very well reward myself. One more go, the both of you!"
[Rolled a 2!]
Rook — 03/28/2021
Tomm would likely try to smooth things over; Jack was a guard and the girl was just a companion of his that was bored. Not much more than that. Sandro got the first apple, and he decided to try his hand at a spear as well. Of course, he didn't have much experience with throwing spears, so it went way off unfortunately.
It happened really.
Rigby — 03/28/2021
"I'll help you out if Aeson doesn't kill me for the effort!" That second shoulder-clap came with a stealthy, sneaky consolation, palmed quietly like a sharper; Sandro passed the younger man a sheathed dagger. (one that he'd likely been hiding under his coat, anyway), oddly shaped, with an Aiolfi wolf - or was that a werewolf? - tooled on the sheath; backdating it to well before the tigre. https://i.imgur.com/4jWRnPT.png
It was likely a coincidence that one edge of the blade was thinly lined with silver. The family was old, monster-hunting blood, after all - this wouldn't have been a dig at Tomm's current companion, surely. Entirely. It was too old for that, right?
"I didn't give this to you."
Harpur Eberhardt — 03/28/2021
"Yeah yeah" he snorted as Sandro stepped up to show them how it was done. They wouldn't be best friends if they weren't competitive though, right?
Harpur was ready to rib Sandro lightly if he missed but then the man made easy work of it and the captain's jaw hung open a little "I-" he huffed and pouted subtly.
"Good Throw."
Grumble grumble!
"I was just having a bit of bad luck, watch this-" when it was his turn to throw again he... MISSED...again and took another chunk of bark off the tree, covering his face with one hand.
God above...
Finally when his third turn came he struck the apple and let out a breath of relief and smiled. He hated to admit but there was a sentimental reason for him wanting to win this thing... he was worried he was losing his best friend after all and... heck ... the rest spoke for itself.
"Just a bit of a bad luck day" he said and puffed his chest out as he regarded Sandro. Sandro knew he could throw a spear by now right? ...this stupid apple was just showing him up that's all!
Rook — 03/28/2021
Tommaso inclined his head to Sandro's comment. "I'll get there." Well, he would have, but the game was won and instead, he was handed a dagger. "You sure?" The silver was obvious, but if Jack noticed, he didn't show it.
The quiet girl did, but she merely smiled.
The blade was tucked away, though, and he'd gather up his bow which was immediately swiped by their female companion. A means to carry it for him and little else. "Might wander, see if my younger siblings want to come over and play with your younger ones. It was fun." If not stopped, the trio would likely leave. Jack was more lethargic, given the hour, but the woman glanced over her shoulder at Sandro a moment longer.
Sandro — 03/29/2021
"You will. I'll see to it, come with your sister, we'll get you practice, yet." And he angled his head."I'm sure. Barring anything your father says. So just don't tell him!" As if that was the largest issue at hand when presenting said dagger. Perhaps as far as Sandro was concerned, it may have been.
"That's a good plan, wrangle them quickly, before Jac starts thinking he can play the pomme, too." Not when he could barely heft a bow or when the spears were still as big as he was! "Try the cards on your way out, if signore Bosco hasn't already sat and fixed the stakes, he's an old bastard."
As that group left, if he could, he'd lock eyes with that woman. And on not recognizing her, he was rather sharply reminded that he could not trust his memory, anymore. Had he met her before? Had Aeson told him - or warned him? The worry was mostly internal, unwanted and self-reflective...but it may have written itself across his face. And should some snoopy vampire poke into his thoughts, the worry was plastered large across a brain full of holes, torn by grief and bleeding out around something internal, something physical that gnawed away at it, bit by bit.
But eventually that new apple did split, and that earned a playful smile from the mercenary Lord.
He couldn't have hidden a good deal of larger weaponry under his coat, Aiolfi or not, and so with a rather casual gesture of his hand that served as an unspoken command to waiting staff, he waved over a woman, one who carried a long, sheathed sword in two careful hands.
"Bad luck days happen to us all. Only means we recognize the good when we see it., and not after it's passed. One out of the collection, as promised!" He would take it from the help, and present it to Harpur: A sword, one that was jagged, one that bit. The same single-silvered edge was present, here - but it likely did nothing to shake any sense that he'd taken a dig at Jack earlier. But it did nothing to emphasize it, either. Tooled on this scabbard was the similar werewolf-heraldry, but a newer addition - a fenghuang with a long, plumed tail, done by a different hand than the other artist - curled across its other side.
Harpur Eberhardt — 03/30/2021
Harpur smiled softly as the staff came forth and presented the blade to him. He took the sword in hand and tested its weight there before fastening the scabbard to his hip and sheathing it.
"Thank you, my friend." he moved in to slap a hand a few times on Sandro's back, ever so close to turning it into a hug but never quite closing the gap enough for it to be considered one.
Even if he didn't agree with all the supernaturals..
"It's a good event...you always host good events. Perhaps if you have the time we could play some cards?" he'd noticed how many card games there were.
"I'm going to go speak to Master Tommaso, but if you are up for a game I will be back shortly."
And with that he was off in search of Tommaso who'd headed off with his friends.
Rook — 03/30/2021
Tommaso had stayed to see the cool prize, a curious look given to the blade. A quiet nod was his congratulations, as well as an appraising look. Kid of few words!
Harpur would find him with his younger siblings, who were talking about the field game they were all playing. The other pair stood off to the side, joined by Cienna, who was pretending she could handle drawing a bowstring back.
"Just remember not to competitive." Tommaso said, only looking away at the sound of the Captain's approach.
Sandro — 04/02/2021
Sandro must've either guessed what the effect of giving Harpur a giant blade upon both Harpur and Tomm might have been, or had followed Tomm's look to the blade, and flashed the much-younger man a rather conspiratorial grin. "More where that came from. Find 'Rica or myself afterwards if you don't sit down for the cards."
Harpur swooped in for that back-slap and Sandro caught it gamely, answered with one of his own, pulled the guy in for a tight half-hug. Whatever rumors that might have been floating around about the Lord's mental decline, it had not yet affected the physical, and both were already a pair of giants.
"Come back over and we'll sit down for a game. I'm not dealing. It'll naturally be fair." He didn't exactly have the personal reputation for cheating, but he'd have to work a little harder against years of that reputation!
Enrica had meanwhile been home and wandering the event, tailed doggedly by a Jac that was pretending he wasn't, and she'd soon land among the Grimani children as well - likely with Cienna and her bow, checking up on her as discreetly as she could.
(Marc, meanwhile, appeared to have been stolen into a bundle of very elderly and dignified-looking gentleman - many who were looking down their nose at the less-human company - and looking for all the world like he'd been stuffed and hung out to dry among even-drier conversation, and that he was looking for the quickest way out of it!)
