In the redlight district, not too far from dockside, and just out of the
shadows of twilight house and the cathedral, is a run down tavern that caters
to a class of drunkard less inclined to mix it up with dockworkers or
tradesmen, and often quite thin of purse. An assortment of brews can be had,
 But the house special is thin, sour and cheap.
In addition to the weaker, cheaper ale, the Wastrel's Hope specializes in low
Stakes games of chance, and wagers on the local sports teams, be it the
dart league or even the junior jugga league.


"What'll it be?"

Grimbo climbs up on a stool. The goblin, stout of stature and sharp of tooth, does not smile. He knows humans don't like that. He cracks his knuckles while seeming to consider, before ordering the special as he always does. He knows it's terrible, and he knows he could afford better, still living off his jugga prizes, but he's careful about things like that.

In reply to Grimbo (msg # 2):

JeanPaul, a bald brutish human with a full beard, slides him a wooden
tankard dripping with foam.
"Who doya like for the darts tonight, the local fellas or the leatherboys from tje Mask?"

In reply to Grimbo (msg # 2):

A young human wanders in, clad in newish leather and a slightly rusty pot helm with long, straight brown hair hanging from under it, carrying a longbow slung and a staff (with its own sling hanging) in hand.  A hip quiver with a single arrow hangs on his belt alongside a knife.  He turns his green eyes toward the goblin.

"What's good here, and what's cheap?  Is there any overlap?"  Without waiting for a reply, he sticks out his hand.  "I'm Mario Crowfoot.  You'll know my name someday as the best archer alive -- if I live that long."

Grimbo answers JeanPaul, "Darts? Allus bet onna home team."

The goblin looks quite surprised to be politely addressed by Mario, but shakes the offered hand firmly. "Grimbo. You mighta hearda me. From tha jugga."

In reply to Grimbo (msg # 5):

"I don't really follow jugga, but your name rings a bell."  Turning to the tavernkeeper, "I'll have what he's having, if it's safe for humans."

He slings his staff over the opposite shoulder from his bow, and seats himself next to Grimbo.

"Darts?  I prefer to fire my arrows from a bow, rather than chuck them by hand, but I can see the entertainment value of a handicap competition if you have the skill for it.  Is there any reason to bet against the Wastrel team?  Does the opposition use poison, for instance?"
This message was last updated by the player at 22:24, Mon 13 July 2015.

Further down the bar, a young man scratches a few more marks on a small scrap of paper!

You guys are betting on the home team?

He is young with black hair, and a warm smile. He has quite a bit of armor with him and a nice, if old, axe and shield.

In reply to Tarnan Darranich (msg # 7):

"I'm asking for information.  Grimbo seems to be betting on the home team.  And hello to you, Tarnan!"

In reply to Mario Crowfoot (msg # 6):

"Hey, I was qwik for tha Pillagers fer three years." Turning and looking at Tarnan, "You know this guy? Yeah, darts allus the home team. Don' allus win, but that's tha way ta bet."

In reply to Grimbo (msg # 9):

An odd trio walk into the bar, a middle aged goblin carrying a ledger, a
muscular orc with a topknot, and a human with a smallsword wearing fine
embroidered clothing.

 The goblin sizes up Grimbo
"The pillagets wuz a good team. I made good book wit dem.
So how much you wanna put on the dart game tonight?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:04, Tue 14 July 2015.

Grimbo looks interested. "What odds?"

Who spoke?

[Private to Narrator: Do I know any of these people?]

A young human clad in a robe and leaning on an oddly pointy metal staff with leather covered tips speaks up from a nearby table.

"Grimbo?  The jugger enforcer?  I saw the last match, it was rather entertaining.  I was there to help out with injuries.  Congratulations on the win."
This message was last updated by the player at 06:09, Tue 14 July 2015.

Tarnan slides up near to the group, and replies to Ardenas:

Hi there.  I'm new to this city, but I'm very interested in learning more about the local games.  I have a "fool-proof" system for placing bets based on the habits of farm animals.  *slides that small sheet of paper into his pocket*  The horses in the stable are giving me hints!  I'd really like to place a bet, though my coins are low.  I'd like to find some adventure around here to fill my purse again!

In reply to Tarnan Darranich (msg # 13):
The goblin chuckles
"You got a system, eh? That's rich! Warcher name kid? I'm Lepkur, and I make book around here.

You notice that while the human and Orc each have tin guild badges, he has a gilt
brass one, indicating some kind of rank.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:22, Tue 14 July 2015.

"I play qwik," Grimbo answers Nodwin, somewhat huffily.

He then turns back to Lepkur, What odds ya givin' on home team?"

Nodwin looks abashed.
"Ah, my apologies. I have only been to a couple of games, and healing does keep most of my attention off of the play on the field."

In reply to Nodwin Zideqick (msg # 16):

"Healers are for children. Orcs play through."

In reply to Grend (msg # 17):

"That is well known, Grend, but the odds change when there are
healers in play, or when there ain't, and a team has had some hard action.
Keeping that kinda intell under wraps is good for people playing the odds.
 Incidentally, da Wastrells are figured at a one ta three against da
Leathermen, cause da Leathermen don't like ta drink in dis joint, so dey
tend ta be sober when dey throw darts. Kinda da revoise when dey throw at
da Rusty Marlinspike, cause dey serve stiffer drinks. No offense, JayPee."

In reply to Lepkur (msg # 18):

"None taken, Lepkur. Your sending the league through the Hope keeps the
Booze flowing, even if the leatherboys don't drink.
Speaking of booze, Low-Rent, didja get anything new for me?"

In reply to JeanPaul (msg # 19):

The man the bartender refers to as "Low-Rent" replies:
"Very soon, my friend. My friend just came back into town with a few
cases of armangac that, while not pleasing to him, will definately brighten
Your fine establishment.  I will have 'Elga bring them round in the morn."

Grimbo fishes in his purse. "I like tha odds. 5 coppers on tha Wastrels tonight.

"JeanPaul, ya gettin' some high grade o rotgut?"

In reply to Grimbo (msg # 21):

The goblin makes a note in his book, and accepts the money.
"Done."

In reply to Grimbo (msg # 21):

"I hope so. Even I know my ale is piss... figuratively speaking."

In reply to Lepkur (msg # 14):

The name is Tarnan, pleased to meet'cha.

Tarnan grumbles to himself then pulls out 5 coppers and bets on the Wastrel's.

In reply to Tarnan Darranich (msg # 24):

"Okay, I'm hearing one to three against the Wastrels, so I'll cover you, Tarnan, unless you prefer to keep with the bookie."  Mario reaches into his pouch for a handful of coin and counts out three silver and three coppers.  "Who'll hold the bets for us?

"By the way, I'm looking for something to better my purse as well; not enough reward in town jobs.  'Guard this shop door' doesn't mean do anything, just stand in one place for hours without going to sleep, it seems."