Main Session

Seeing Ardira wander off to fetch drinks, she'd taken a step in her direction to follow her instinctually. "Divide and conquer, yes?" Vaeri's words had Ophelia halt momentarily, a slight nod indicating that the drow's words rang true. "Right."

She shared a glance with Eris and Nezyrn and looked over the customers again. Glad that both of her suggestions were followed up on, that left Ophelia to either consider talking to others or...

Her steps led her to the cardplayer, approaching with Wisper flying close by her side. "... Hello." Ophelia greeted. "I'd like to ask you some questions, if that's alright."

"Questions? What kind of questions?" She asks, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward on the table, "Look, I'm here legally alright? Whatever I make from people in here is perfectly fair. It's called gambling for a reason- not my problem." She says, shrugging while leaning backwards, only to down half of her remaining red wine, "Were you looking to play, you seem the type to do well on things based around logic and skill." Fiora tries, getting a decent read on Ophelia just from giving her a once over.

The cards flutter from hand to hand as Fiora collects them and from the look of Ophelia's friendly, polite demeanor she pushes a little harder, "It's nothing all that serious. If you were just looking for some company to talk to, I can help you out with whatever you need...I'm just bored, you see? But I don't do idle chatter, throw a few silver at me in a light hearted game however and i'm sure we could talk about whatever you'd like."

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

The woman rambled on, and Ophelia wondered if being questioned was something the stranger had simply grown accustomed to.

Idle chatter?

If she was going to ask the questions necessary for their investigation…

She turned to Wisper, wordlessly conversing with the wisp as she mulled over the offer.

The gambler might’ve assumed Ophelia was going to turn her down, until she spoke suddenly: “… I’m only carrying gold,” and took a seat across.

Wisper reached into her coin purse and placed a singular piece onto the table. “It’s the equivalent of ten pieces of silver.”

She glanced down at the cards.
“What are we playing?”

"Only gold is fine by me, friend." She smirks, flicking the cards from one hand to the other before displaying them across the table. In a flash, she'd gathered them up again, piling them neatly in her hand,"Blackjack, 21s, whatever you wanna call it, an Ace is a 1 or an 11, all the royal cards are a 10. All you gotta do is make the number 21, or get as close to. You seem the type of gal to be good with numbers, so I'm sure you'll do just fine. Just don't go over 21 or its a loss."

“It’s a game of luck.” Her lips pressed together in discontent. Blue eyes found Ardira from across the tavern, a crease between her eyebrows, and she tore her gaze away.

Thankfully, Ophelia didn’t have to win to ask her questions. She hadn’t specified that.

She didn’t wait for her to deal as she posed her first. “Have you heard anything revolving disappearances? Anything that holds merit?”

She shakes her head, "It's a game of logic. You decide what to bet and act based on the information you receive when you're given your first two cards, you have to account for the chances you'll get higher or lower than what you need."

Fiora could certainly talk even if her arguement might not have been exactly right, she said it with such confidence that it almost felt correct.

"Disappearances? Hmm...maybe I have, maybe I haven't." She says, dishing out two cards each. She keeps hers hidden from Ophelia.

"If you're talking about goblins causing trouble, then I suppose I have."

“Accounting for chance is luck. Higher or lower depends significantly on whether or not you’re a good shuffler.”

And that’s only if the woman numbered the cards in order before she randomized them—something Ophelia doubted. She certainly didn’t seem like the organized type.

Ophelia didn’t concern herself with the cards dealt at first, keeping a level gaze with her opponent. “Goblins?” she asked. “What do you mean by trouble? They’re taking people?”

Before she could answer, the scholar kept up her end of the bargain. “Another card, please.”

And another, she signaled with her index finger.

She had fourteen. Drawing again would mean Ophelia needed to get a seven or lower. “The odds that I’d draw a low card again are low.”

With her opponent showing a seven, it was plausible she’d end up with seventeen, and Ophelia would lose no matter what. “I’ll prove to you that it is a game of luck.”

A tilt of her head was given to the deck of cards. She braced for the last card to put her over twenty-one—a bust.

But—surprisingly, despite the odds—Ophelia stared back at a six of spades.

Twenty.

“… your turn, I assume.”

"Taking people?" She gives a laugh as if Ophelia was naive and innocent, "I'd expected you to be straight business, you're very forward aren't you? How about a name?" She snakes around the question, clearly she's used to getting people talking...and spending money.

She dispenses the cards as asked, "See, you're reasoning with logic, aren't predictable outcomes a form of reasoning?" Fiora gives a sly smile, she might not be as bright or as academic as the wizard sitting before her but she was tricky, knowing full well the way to rope in an intellectual was to challenge them on something.

"Now look at that, maybe I am good at shuffling. I bust." She says, spreading her hand across the table to reveal a 27, a warning or a bluff mixed in with the chit-chat.

She slides Ophelia 5 silver, "You hold on to these for me for now." Fiora smiles, shuffling the deck, clearly interested in keeping the game going. She slides in a full gold piece this time, "We can cut the loose change, can't we?"

Name?

She seemed confused for a moment before the wizard pieced it together; a line of disapproval formed on her lips that she hadn’t realized sooner.

“Ophelia Fontaine.”

Introductions hadn’t even come to mind. She often focused so much on one thing that plenty of others slipped right over her head. “This is Wisper.” Ophelia slid the cards back toward the stranger—she hadn’t expected to win. At all. Entertaining the game had only come at the promise of information; if gold had to be strewn around for it—then so be it.

“Continued conversation would be a headache, as one would say.” She placed another gold on the table, matching the bet and agreeing to cut the change. It made the overthinking of how much to gamble easier, too.

The cards shuffled and were drawn yet again, leaving Ophelia with… twenty-one?

“This is not a predictable outcome, therefore undermining your reasoning.” But hers, too, in turn. Ophelia had never been lucky enough for chance to be on her side.

She didn’t voice that, but her actions spoke for themselves as she placed another gold on the table. The game itself had clearly turned into an unspoken experiment of some kind.

“Are you a local? I hear tourists are common.” The latter would make her information less viable.

Logic and reasoning.

At the mention of his name, his mid-riff flares to life, the flames turning into a make shift dress vest, mimicking a getup suitable for a casino before taking a bow.

"Ophelia? Don't hear that one much, pretty name. I'll let you off with forgetting to ask for mine, or maybe you don't care to know?" Fiora is being purposefully difficult, making the poor wizard back track through the conversation at every turn, making her feel like she owes Fiora that much, but it's just one more way to keep her talking.

She raises a hand and locks her fingers together, pinching them closed over her palm to give Wisper a wave, "Now aren't you cute?" She asks, "How long have you had him?"

"I suppose a good hand on the first turn is all to chance, but you've still been handed information and you're able to make a decision based on that...unless you feel like drawing another card and letting me win?" She gives a chuckle wondering if she'd manage to get under the gentle girl's skin.

She draws a 9 and a 2, flipping them over as Ophelia had already revealed what was likely a winning hand, "In this situation I know from my cards and yours, my only chance..." She flips over a third card, her face steady before smoothing into a cat-like grin, "Was to draw."

"Queen of Clubs. Guess we're playing again."

"What was it you were asking again, something about the locals, or was it about me being a local? I got caught up in the suspense!" She half laughs into her glass as she raises it, sipping on her red wine.

Her name, of course, her name. Ophelia mentally berated herself for not asking.

If there’d been any irritation, the only flicker of discontent was the way her blue eyes bounced from the cards dealt to her opponent. “Two years. Every luminary gets one.”

Ophelia wondered if she’d been assigned one with so much personality for a reason. Had Wisper been defective? A question she never posed.

A twenty-one meant that she’d win. Unless she drew to a point it’d become—

A tie?
The grin on her face told Ophelia she was proud of it, as if it helped her argument.

While the scholar still seemed contemplative and serious, she sat up a bit straighter. She had never been the competitive type.

But fact and flaw needed to be corrected. “Even with that information—it forces you to make a choice. You hadn’t known you would pull exactly what you needed to tie. Not a predictable outcome.”

Ophelia, in a roundabout way, was essentially saying she got lucky. “I was asking if you’re from here—how long you’ve been here.”

The cards were dealt, and Ophelia only drew once, a steady twenty.

Her gaze lingered on the alcohol the woman drank, chalking up her lapse in memory to intoxication. “What is your name?”

“Or have you forgotten that too?”

Poor Ophelia the elf thought with a soft smile gracing her features, despite the wizard's bluntness in answering the question, she'd still opened the door for Fiora to ask more, routing her back to this topic all over again, "A Luminary? What's that?"

"Ah so if the answer isn't predictable, that's what makes it a game of chance?" The question floats in the air, left unanswered. Ophelia could tell she was being goaded, yet at the same time there was a chance Fiora really was trying to understand, maybe she just wanted to learn?

"I bust." She says, cutting off the topic of how long she'd been here, sliding Ophelia the gold. She shuffles and draws again, "You're good at this!" She praises as if it was a skill, undermining Ophelia's previous explaination of it being merely a game of chance.

"I'm not from this town, but I've been here a few years. Lots of tourists, lots of new faces to meet."

"Now, now, Ophelia. There's no need to be rude." She clicks her tongue, not actually putting any emphasis on the word, yet it called out to Ophelia all the same.

"Fiora is my name, Fiora Arelle."

"A Luminary's job is to present and preserve findings for historic value. That is what I do," Ophelia explained, simple and straightforward, as most things were with her… minus the simplicity.

The brunette’s mouth opened and hesitated.
"...You're right." She was being rude. Ophelia took into account the insinuation and tone. "I shouldn't have assumed your memory capabilities based on alcohol intake. Especially for something as simple as your name."

Should she have complimented Fiora's name like she had hers?
No, no. It’d be overcompensating for her mistake.

She seemed satisfied that Fiora had finally answered at least one of her questions, but less so that she'd actually won.

Ophelia pushed the gold she had slid over back toward the middle of the table, rebetting. "A game of chance is defined by unpredictability," she said, patiently waiting for her cards.

Deciding to stay and not bother drawing another again.
Another twenty.
Why wasn’t she losing?

"Logic can be applied for probabilities, but the outcome is always random. I'm not good at this. Statistically, I should be losing. I've won three out of four rounds—the fourth being a tie."

Fiora had done an awfully good job of diverting the conversation enough for Ophelia to momentarily forget why she'd been here in the first place.

"Are you sure you're shuffling correctly?"

"I knew you were the intelligent type but that sounds rather important. What have you preserved? There's actually a mention that some goblins around here have lost a relic to the Lumen archive, its had them in quite the uproar."

"I accept your apology." She says, annoyingly dropping the interesting topic, just giving the wizard a sprinkle of what she was looking for even though Ophelia didn't ever outright say she was sorry.

"So if it's only a game of chance, why should you be losing? Of course there's only the two of us here, wouldn't that make it an even split?" She smiles, watching Ophelia unravel the game right before her eyes, "Hmm...well, I keep losing. Maybe I'm not. Here, you try."

She says, sliding the deck over to Ophelia to try her hand at dealing.

The mention of the Archive had Ophelia blink in surprise.
What kind of relic? She wondered its properties.

“A relic?” Fiora had dropped the topic to address the earlier. The conversation felt like it was jumping from point to point faster than she could follow.

There was a reason she didn’t have many friends.

“...Fortune does not favor me, but an even split would mean you’d have won something, and you’ve lost plenty.” She paused, debating whether or not that was apology-worthy too.

She took the deck from her, deciding to try her hand at shuffling—clumsily, in a way that could’ve ran Fiora’s patience as Ophelia was ensuring the uncertainty stayed uncertain. “I don't play card games,” she explained for her reasoning behind her lack of haste. “Or gamble."

“What do you know of the relic? Do you know how it was seized? Or where these goblins might reside? The trouble they're making, what has that entailed?” Her questions spewed as Ophelia dealt, upping the ante to two gold—maybe to further entice Fiora into answering.

"Unfortunately not many of my friends are goblins, you probably know how they are though. Tribal sometimes, would those be the words?" She looks down at her nails in disinterest, "They get all excited over all sorts of things..." The hand begins to slowly roll as she talks, "Dancing around a campfire, banging sticks and drums, chanting in the mud and dirt, I'd imagine whatever this relic is, it probably had some use in those kind of things."

She rolls over her hand to peak at her nails, "Not my cup of tea..." The tone of her voice says it all, it seems as though she thought goblins were very much not her social circle of choice, Fiora smiles at an opening.

"So it's not an even split, which means our chances are somehow different? Wouldn't that imply you've been doing something that I haven't, like skill? There must be a determining factor, am I right?" Fiora knew she was entirely wrong, the sample size of games was far too short to make any kind of assessment, if they'd played a hundred matches, the ratio would probably even out, but that knowledge wouldn't help her keep Ophelia beating around the bush.

"Maybe you should start playing more often - you seem good at it." The compliment again was just to drive home the same thing she'd said before, that cards were skill based, making it a dangerous one to accept, "Ophelia." She warns like a mother catching a child raiding the treat cupboard without permission, "You're interrogating me again." She smiles, "Here, I'll draw."

The card game had led them to yet another tie. She hadn't even counted her winnings—not that they particularly mattered to her. Winning had caused her more distress than losing would.

And more importantly, Fiora used her wins and ties alike to amplify her argument. Fiora's scolding had Ophelia sink further into her chair, much like a child who’d been caught in the treat cupboard—something she rarely did. She was one who stuck to the rules.

She handed the deck to her, losing much of her logistical argument. “It is not based on skill! It is basic math. The only determining factor is whether or not…” She trailed off as Fiora dealt the next cards, having Ophelia win yet again.

“Are they enchanted cards? They must be. Is this why you face legal trouble?” She huffed, an obvious show of frustration in the way her cheeks began to redden.

“And I am not interrogating. You said I was free to ask any questions so long as we played a game.”

Too Ophelia's credit, Fiora erupts into a genuine bout of laughter dropping a somewhat patronizing aww. "You've gone ahead and gotten yourself all worked up, haven't you?" She leans forward on her hands, looking over Ophelia, "I tell you what, I've had my fun."

"Most of the sorts I deal with are arrogant drinkers with too much coin to throw around, it's usually such a bore to play pretend. This has been a much needed self indulgence, so I think it's only fair I give you something in return."

"What is it you're wanting to know, use that bluntness of yours and tell me clearly." She teases

Her laughter didn’t add fuel to the fire that shouldn’t have been alight, but rather a confusion that had Ophelia glance at Wisper, wondering what she’d been missing. Had Fiora genuinely found humor in her frustration?

…She wasn’t about to take the offer for granted, though. A promise of straight information without going in circles was a welcome reprieve from conversing with her.

“I’m looking into the ruined building, along with my…”
What was the proper term for them? “…team.”

“We need something to follow. Void energy, disappearances, fishermen, goblins. Something that could possibly pertain to a century-aged building in a day.”

...and against all probability, Ophelia still hadn’t lost.

She glanced down at the currency on the table, sliding it towards her and placing the five silver Fiora handed her earlier. "Four gold, five silver."

“One more game.”
Having been reminded of her manners—or lack thereof—she added, “Please.”

When Ophelia looks at him, he shrugs back at her, he had no idea what was wrong with this strange elf either. He did worry a little about the amount of rounds of this game she'd been playing, silently judging her before letting out a quiet, "...Addict."

"Hmm- I'd admit, that's likely a good use of your talents. Investigation, I mean. I could see that working." Fiora shrugs, "Oh please, If I hear another thing about these fishermen I might be tempted to head out to that damned river and drown myself with them." She rolls her eyes, swilling the glass of red between her fingers, she catches herself remembering she was talking to Ophelia and not some drunk labourer.

"By that I of course mean...there's been rumours frequent enough to warrant my frustration, as far as I can tell, the fishermen went out to the river as they would any other day, a few of them didn't come home. After that, old Frank over there takes to his usual rounds and comes back looking like sleep had abandoned him for the last 10 years, I'd say it's rather apparent that he saw some of the missing fishermen as the rumours suggest. Undead aren't exactly all that unheard of these days."

"What next, what next?" She taps on the side of her glass and heaves a heavy sigh as if this was such an ordeal of kindness for her, "The goblins I've told you all I know about, they probably just lost some stupid rock or something now they're having tantrums and causing trouble to innocent people. You're magic, aren't you? Do let me know if you decide to level their camp into a nice flower patch instead of the eyesore it is currently."

"As for the building? Hah! Who knows? Maybe we all aught to head to that old chapel in town and repent for our sins...that's sarcasm, by the way. I wouldn't want you to waste your time."

Her eyebrow raises at Ophelia's request and more importantly her manners, "Ophelia!" She says, this time more like she'd been told the latest gossip completely out of the blue, "You know you should be careful, I'm actually growing rather fond of you, I may have you sit here while I enjoy my wine more often." She laughs again at that, much to Ophelia's confusion. (edited)Tuesday, 2

"Take note, Wisper." She much preferred her own notes, but Ophelia was busy diverting her attention to Fiora's ramblings and intent on focusing on the card game she intended to lose.

The answers to Ophelia's questions only led to more—but unfortunately, even she knew that Fiora wouldn't have any idea. "I'm not magic, I just practice it. An eyesore would mean you've seen the camp, indicating you know where it is."

As the woman extended her compliments and praise for her company, Ophelia couldn't say the same. Instead, she slid the deck toward her. She wasn't a fan of dealing.

The cards were dealt, and Ophelia was left with a fourteen. "I don't want another card," she told her opponent, who reached for the deck. She watched Fiora’s draw closely, shifting slightly when she landed on a fourteen herself.

Since Ophelia stood first, it would be up to Fiora.
She wouldn’t want to tie again.

Right?

"You just need a seven or lower. The odds you'll draw a low card again are low." Verbatim what Ophelia had said about her own draw during their first game—poetic, in a sense. "If you're insistent that it's a game of skill and logic, your only chance is to draw, and... win."

She wanted to be wrong.
That chance, odds, and probability had nothing against a hypothetical skill.

Except she wasn’t.

Fiora pulled a jack, exceeding twenty-one.
And Ophelia won.

She inhaled sharply, standing from the chair.
"You can keep the winnings."

"Everyone knows where it is, Ophelia. The damned thing is harder to miss than it is to find, believe me I've tried." She once again glances down at her nails as her tone turns dry towards the end of the sentence, "The river is up north east of here, there's some other encampment there or something, I don't really head out that way, I'm bothered by enough fishermen as it is. Which is unfortunate as I hear the river is rather pretty at sunset."

"If you're wanting to see the goblin camp, it's north west, nestled among some trees, thank the gods. I've always been thankful for nature, never more so than when I see the trees covering that heap of mud." She scoffs, "Now, let's carry on with the game." She smiles, returning to her usual self.

They both sat at 14, "A risky play, Ophelia, though I suppose you're just working with the information you've gathered through our time playing together. I have after all bust several times, so it'd be safe to assume it may happen again on a difficult score of 14 like this hand. You're really using your logical side to your advantage."

As Ophelia stands up and begins to walk, Fiora calls out, "Oh- Ophelia?" She asks, waiting for the girl to turn back to her, "I always do." She says, holding up one of the gold coins she'd given the wizard, before promptly pressing it to her lips, folding it easily in half with her mouth. She was using fake coins.

"Nothing in gambling matters except the final round." She smirks, "Toodles~"

Fake gold?
She knew it!

Well, she didn’t. Ophelia knew that there had to be some kind of ploy going on—given her win streak—but it more so seemed like Fiora had been playing without actual risk. Blue eyes narrowed and she turned on her heel with a huff. “Remind me to never play blackjack again.” She told Wisper, the young woman’s tone edging on an uncharacteristic frustration. One that only accompanied Ophelia when she was stuck in the midst of her research.

“I mean that, Wisper.” She warned, spotting and naturally navigating to Ardira’s side. She hadn’t wanted to impose on her conversation, so the shorter girl stayed silent.

Key NPCs

Key Locations

Important Info

Recap

Ophelia engages Fiora Arelle in a series of blackjack games to extract information. Through circular debates on logic versus luck, and repeated wins, Ophelia learns key info: fishermen vanished at the river to the northeast, Frank claims to have seen them undead, and goblins operate from a forested camp northwest after losing a relic tied to the Lumen Archive. Fiora ultimately reveals she gambles with fake coins. Disillusioned but better informed, Ophelia leaves the table and rejoins the party.