Scene #3495: The Game of Gwent

Owner	Pose
Geralt of Rivia	It's a dingy day in the swamplands of Velen. While the sun is high in the sky, the bright radiance doesn't quite dispel the foetid stink of mud. It rains a lot, down here in the south, and even when the sun is out the place still manages to feel dank. At one of the taverns dotting one of the major roads, a sign indicates that there's a tournament happening for something called Gwent. A number of horses are tied outside and those familiar with Geralt might recognise his chestnut mare Roach. Inside, people throng here and there. A number of serving wenches serving flagons of ale dart and twist amongst card sharks and thugs. No one seems to be a professional soldier, despite the threat of war and invasion hanging over the lands, but there sure seem to be a lot of roughnecks. It certainly doesn't feel like a nice place and, while no one seems to be armed, one can't shake the feeling that a lot of people are. A number of dining tables have been repurposed into gaming tables. Men and women sit on either side with decks of brightly-colored cards arrayed in front of them. One of the men is Geralt of Rivia, his white hair, pale skin and golden eyes marking him as a Witcher - and making him obviously recognisable to the Elites. He appears to have grown a scruffy beard, too. Geralt scoops up a collection of coins from the middle of the table as his opponent mutters something about 'damn Witchers'. Well, someone's cleaning house.
Ainsley	It's probably a good thing it's a swamp. Swamps tend to be warm during the day, even in the summertime. Warm enough for reptiles to be more than comfortable. So when Ainsley shows up, she fiddles with a ribbon on the end of her tail to deactivate some sort of device attached to it. She steps along the road at a slow pace, somehow managing to ignore any funny looks she gets along the way. Her path brings her to the tavern in Velen. People are suitably unsettled by the sight of her. She's wearing a nice concealing black cloak, so it's only people that are close enough to really get a look at her face, or happen to spot her tail. She pulls the hood of the cloak down when she enters the tavern and steps aside, kicking mud off of her bare feet, wiggling her scalie toes. She looks up from this act and gauges the reactions in the tavern. Her face is neutral, and the feathers atop her head lift in a parrot-like way as if expecting them to react to her. Or some other alien emotion that's hard to read in her reptilian face. Once she spots the table containing all the cards, she begins to approach it. Her step is near soundless, as if she were as light as a feather. Not even the mud on her toes makes any noise. It appears as if she is absolutely unafraid of the potential for a problem here.
Dorian Pavus	Dorian probably sticks out here, too. He has not a hair out of place, his moustache is impeccably groomed, and his clothing is neat and tidy. And he wears a WHITE CLOAK over his light leather armor. Who wears WHITE when walking through mud?! That said it seems he's spared his cloak the worst of the mud, even if it's on his shoes when he enters. His horse is hitched outside with the rest, and as he enters he takes a few moments to scrape what of the mud he can off his shoes (if the mud is a constant here, it's likely there's a metal thing next to the door specifically for scraping mud off one's shoes) before he actually starts walking into the tavern proper. He too looks about for the Witcher, and a smile pulls at his mouth as he finds the man. That hair and those eyes are pretty distinctive. Oh. It's also worthy to note that he does have his staff with him. It's slung on his back by a leather strap, the three serpentine dragons' heads of the top of the staff visible over his shoulder.
Geralt of Rivia	"Monster!" The cry goes up the moment someone spots Ainsley entering the tavern. Flagons are dropped, people scream, and a few of the bigger men try to puff up their chests and look brave. "Witcher!" someone calls, "Do something!" Geralt looks up. His golden eyes look Ainsley up and down, like the eyes of a bird of prey trying to sum up a morsel. "Not a monster," Geralt decides, returning to his cards. "But-!" "I'm a Witcher. I know monsters. That ain't one. Sit down, or I'll sit you down," Geralt growls. The man decides to sit down of his own free will. Dorian draws some wary glances, too. With King Radovid's pogroms aimed at non-humans and magic users, it's clear that there's a few members of the local peasantry who think that they might get a handsome reward for turning over the strange dusky-skinned mage. They don't try anything, however, but Dorian would probably want to watch his back. A serving woman flutters her eyelashes at Dorian as she passes him. Geralt looks up from the table, where his opponent has since vacated their side of the arena. "Feel like I should've mentioned how things work around here," he says to the pair.
Ainsley	'Monster.' That is actually a rare one, but despite it, Ainsley maintains a stoic demeanor at that. It's when Geralt looks at her and judges her not to be one, and the people actually /listen/, that she seems surprised. Her scalie brows lift subtly. She's impressed. She finishes her approach by slipping into one of the seats, settling her cloak against the back of the seat. She's just got period-specific clothing so that she doesn't cause too much of a stir amongst the locals. She doesn't have any weapons visible on her person, but anyone that knows weapons knows the faint outline of daggers hidden behind her back under her coat. She came here for peaceful reasons, but prepared for blood. And she is very calm in a room full of nervous townsfolk. "You handled it," she surmises, satisfied that he was correct. She looks down at the cards, scanning them with her pale blue eyes. Her head lifts and she looks over her shoulder, spotting Dorian... she waves him over as he inevitably approaches. "I am Ainsley. Now..." She looks for a server, waving at them to try to convince them to approach. It's taking some effort and an insistent gesturing process. "Let's see if a lizard can squeeze a drink or two out of this place."
Dorian Pavus	Dorian notices Ainsley as he arrives at the table. Particularly when someone yells about a 'monster'. Dorian makes a show of being surprised, and blinks gray eyes at the one who'd yelled. "Monster? Where?" He looks around as if he sees nothing out of the ordinary. Yes, his tone is intentionally patronizing. And yes, he's intentionally being an ass to the one who yelled; there's nothing more grating than being the only one who notices something where everyone else doesn't seem to register it. Come to think of it, Dorian himself has had nightmares along that vein... He does offer a smile to Ainsley as he nears the table. "How do you do?" he offers, bowing politely. "We've met, haven't we? Hydaelyn?" he inquires. "Though we didn't have time to become properly acquainted there, unfortunately. Dorian, of House Pavus," he offers, just in case names wer eforgotten. "A pleasure to meet you again." And not to worry. For all Dorian's appearance of being an oblivious nobleman who just happens to be a mage, he's been traveling long enough to know when to watch himself. Illustrated quite well with where he picks to sit. Is there a place where he can put his back against the wall? He'll pick the closest place to that. Failing that he will sit as close to directly opposite Geralt as he can, with hopes that Geralt will alert him if someone's sneaking up behind him. The serving girl who flutters her eyelashes at him would ordinarily get little more than a pleasant smile and a wave. But he can use this to his advantage. Dorian knows how to manipulate people, and he's not above using his looks to get his way. To this serving girl, he intones, "Greetings to you, sweet lady. I wonder if you could do me a small favor. My friend seems to have the other servers absolutely petrified. Could you please do me the honor of getting her a drink?"
Geralt of Rivia	"What can I say," Geralt says to Ainsley, "Bein' a monster hunter can be a help sometimes. 'Sides, they're probably just as scared of me as they are of you." The cards on the table are playing cards, at least by size and shape. Where most cards have diamonds, clubs, hearts or spades, these cards have some intricate artwork of soldiers, trebuchets, elves, monsters and people who must be known to the people of the Continent. The game seems unclear, although, glancing around at some of the other matches, it appears to be based around arranging the various cards in rows of three and calculating the total value of all cards in play. "C-certainly," the young woman stammers to Dorian. "What does she like? Wine? Yes, wine will do. I'll be back in a moment!" She returns before long with a bottle of red wine and a pair of mugs. It's Velen, one is probably just lucky that the flagons are clean. "First time in Velen?" Geralt asks.
Ainsley	Despite her appearance, it's clear that Ainsley has a more pleasant speaking voice than anyone else in the room. Calm, measured, feminine. Friendly. It's apparent as she replies to Geralt, "First time to any civilization around here. I have to say, if I were far more cruel, I would delight in making fear run amok like that. You would think they thought I would shoot acid from my nose from the reaction I received. I am going to guess that anything that does not at least look passably human is a risk around here, these sorts of reactions are typically justified by bloody precedence." Once the wine and mugs are brought over, it's only then that Ains turns to Dorian and smiles at him briefly, then directs a very warm "Thank you," to the server before the woman can flee to a safe distance from the trio once more. She gestures down at the cards with her nose and back up to Geralt. Indicating for him to go ahead with explaining or whatever he chooses. Then she goes about pouring some wine for herself, and then some for Dorian, but only after if he confirms he wants some. She directs an inquisitive look at him and even curls her tail expressively.
Dorian Pavus	"Thank you very much," Dorian replies as the serving girl comes back with wine. He flashes the serving girl a winning smile before she retreats to a 'safe' distance. Scary lizard is scary? To Ainsley though, he replies, "Terribly sorry I couldn't get her to stop and ask what you'd like first. But it's something." The inquisitive look gets a nod, and he replies with a, "Yes, please." And then a, "Thank you" as Ainsley pours some wine for him as well as for herself. He doesn't speak tail-language, but her eyes are expressive enough. Once the win his poured, he too looks at the cards. "So how does this work?" he notes, of the card game. He wonders how close it is to Wicked Grace. And then he also makes a mental note that he should teach that to the Multiverse sometime!
Geralt of Rivia	Geralt's eyes wander between Ainsley and Dorian. "I'm not a very good teacher," he states, before returning his attention to the cards in front of him. "Simple game, really. Deck of twenty-two cards at minimum. Y'draw ten cards." Geralt demonstrates by slipping ten from the top of his deck, holding them in front of him like a practiced card player. "Cards get placed in one of three rows depending on whether they've got a sword, bow or catapult icon. Infantry, archers, siege. Each card's got a number." Geralt holds up a card of a soldier in blue with the number 'four'. "Highest value on a side of the table wins. Sounds simple. But if y'pass even a single round, you take no more turns - your opponent can keep playing. And those ten cards're all you get. There's weather cards, too, that nullify an entire row for both players. Frost cards stop infantry cards." Geralt leans back in his seat. "It's supposed to represent two armies locked in combat. Far cleaner, tho'. Heard it was invented by dwarves. Heard bandits play for people's lives with it. Everyone plays Gwent - peasants, nobles... Witchers..."
Ainsley	"Not terribly complex on the surface," Ainsley murmurs in observation of the cards as he explains the rules. She seems to take in the basics of what he's explaining in between sips of her wine. She makes no apparent reaction to her drink or the state of the mug she's using. All of her expression is directed at Geralt, in the form of rapt attention. She shrugs after that and notes to Geralt, "Naturally, I do not have a deck of these cards. If it is not too difficult, I can locate a merchant that sells them here in town... though I have my doubts I have anything approaching an acceptable currency for this place." She frowns momentarily. "Do you have spare cards I may use for practice?" she wonders at Geralt. "So... How does a Witcher decide what is or isn't a monster?" she wonders at Geralt, shining a warm smile at him after this second inquiry.
Dorian Pavus	Dorian too listens to the explanation, silently taking in the explanation. A lot of thinking on one's feet, it seems. Ainsley's observation of the lack of complexity gets a nod. "Simple to learn but hard to master, I'd wager." Interesting turn of phrase, considering people seemed to be losing money to Geralt, presumably playing this same game. He decides to ask. "This was the game you were referring to on the broadband, yes?" He's poilte enough not to mention Geralt saying he was fleecing someone at it. Especially because said someone might still be here, and Dorian doesn't want to start any trouble.
Geralt of Rivia	"Years of experience," Geralt replies to Ainsley, voice even. He doesn't smile. In fact, come to think of it, his facial expression has barely moved. He's just kind of... flat. "I've a few," he continues, however, evidently not as cold as he seems. He leans down and begins going through his pack, fetching out a variety of Gwent cards. "Should be enough t'make a deck in there but split 'em with Dorian. People like t'wager cards, too. Might try winnin' some. And yeah," he turns his head to look at Dorian. "This's Gwent. Helps with makin' coins when contracts are a bit sparse. A lot of the game is in what you draw - bigger the deck, less chance you have of drawin' a specific card, but the more tools you've got at y'disposal. But most of it is in knowin' how to use what you've drawn. Just like life."