A most arbitrary quiz

Dear diary. Some time ago my Charali friend told me she had plans to host a charity event at her bar, The Half-Pint  over at Milford. In support of the victims of the flood. It sounded like a fun thing (not the flood, but the event), so I agreed to hold a quiz. I don’t know what she expected, but if you ask the fool to hold a quiz, I guess you have to abide the fact that it’s not quite a normal quiz.

Rules were simple:

  • Donate some money to join in the quiz.
  • Don’t guess on the Jester’s question until she decided it was your turn to guess. Most right guesses wins a mug and free beer for a month.
  • The Jester decides the order of guessing and picks the right answer.
  • The Jester can be bribed. And flattered. Preferably at the same time.
  • The Jester is always honest and fair and pretty.

Simple, yes obvious, rules really. Futher questions were to be directed to Mrs Buttons. People were in high spirits and came up with some really fun answers!

Question 1: “What do I have in my pocket?” Some great answers here, from Baron Orban suggesting I held all of Lithmore’s hearts in there (bonus points for flattery) to Elizabethany suggesting Mrs Buttons was in there eating candy (cute). Considering I just gotten a lot of donations, Isobel Nettesheim correctly guessed “coin”. Boring but unfortunately correct. That towering dark-skinned fellow also guessed “coin”, but too late – after that he made sure to bribe me into putting him first in line).  Lady le Storm got a bonus point for suggesting I’d have a mouse in there. Where else to put a mouse than in one’s pocket! I like how that woman thinks.

Question 2: “What happens when you walk into the book store on Miller’s lane and shouts really high?” Many guesses put poor Miss Milbry in various akward situations here. The truth is of course that books just start falling off the shelves seemingly randomly. Trust me, I’ve tried. Elizabethany got that one.

Question 3: “What is the Jesterly use of armour?” Here suggestions went all the way from protecting oneself from rotten tomatoes to using it as a musical instrument. Baron Orban nicked it as reading it as “arm-our”, and offering a hug. Hugs we like. But also Isobel got a bonus for the suggestion of cooking.

Great answers, but of course, the really, really correct answer for the use of armour is to ride on it. Just find a huge lump of a man in full armour and ask to ride on his shoulder. You wouldn’t believe how comfortable armour is to ride on if you are my size. For some reason big burly men tend to find it kinda nice to have a girl riding on their shoulders too. Win-win situation. Reeves should carry jesters around all the time. The crime rate of this city would drop through the floor in a week.

Question 4: “If you stand out in the snow with your pants down, what happens?”  Baron Orban took this one in one word. “Snowballs”. That’s all there is to it.

Question 5: “What was the Jester doing first time she met the king?” Legend and Elizabethany would have me dangling in the chandeliers of the castle (others suggested I was reading books or sleeping on the throne). Elizabethany got the point for that one, but the true answer was really a bit different. No I won’t tell it. Muahaha, you keep guessing dear Diary!

Next time I should go swing from the chandeliers. No risk of being run-over by tall folk then. Or maybe the King might allow me to ride on his armour?

Question 6: “What is Mrs Buttons first name?”  Saved the hardest one for last. Lots of groaning and thinking before people came up with answers to this one. Baron Orban thought my puppet to actually be a man (accused us of an inappropriately close relationship!), and that ‘Mrs’ was actually the first name. Isolde named my puppet after herself. But as Lady Lien le Storm so brilliantly deduced, Mrs Button’s maiden name is of course “Ing” – “Miss Ing Buttons”.

This all lead to the remaining contestants each having two points (I didn’t plan for that, honest), so we had people guess on the total donations earned during the quiz. The best guesser and thus final winner was Baron op Orban. I think he felt a little bad for it though since winning didn’t really matter much to him. Isolde really wanted to nick that one. Ah well, it’s all for fun and charity!

Total bribery and charity earnings for the evening was 2540 silver, a bottle of stolen whiskey, a red flower and a towel. Not too shabby!

 

OOC: RP logs are here.

Gardening and happy fish

The Troubadour Guild has an inner yard with plenty of plants, some trees and other green stuff. I used to mostly hurry through it on my busy way. But after the flood the place is a mess! The plants are all either dead or very sad-a-looking and the mud is everywhere. Even I understand that it’ll take a lot of work to get it in order again.

I don’t know crap about gardening, but that old bard-gone-caretaker I can never remember the name of got hold of me. Literally hold of me – he lifted me right up and didn’t put me down until I was in front of some sort of greenery with a rake in my hand. I tried my best to convince him that I really suck at this stuff. But he wouldn’t have it. No arguing with that fellow once he puts his (pretty bad) breath on you!

So it was just to roll up one’s sleeves and get to work. As it turns out, I do suck pretty badly at gardening. But the young apprentices (many of which grew up in the countryside and know what they are doing) seem to enjoy having me around. So my presence makes them work better. That shrewd old caretaker.

The pond is still a brownish trench of mush. The fish are happy now though I suppose – bet they just swam straight out of the pond when the flood came. Sometimes I think about our pond fish, and how they celebrate their freedom far out at sea somewhere. I bet they are nibbling something exotic, getting drunk and are hooking up with good-looking she-fish with colourful scales.

What’s with me and rain?

Dear diary. Haven’t written for a while. The pages were all wet and I had to find some new ones before I could continue. Not to mention finding a dry table to write on!

Lots of water in Lithmore. Lots and lots and lots, so much one had to float about on broken doors in order to live through it. The flood covered everything and people were glum. Not an easy time for a merry jester. At least now the water has receded. One would think everything would be washed clean – oh no! It seems floods just gather all the dirt in one spot – notably right where you are supposed to clean. The ‘Globe will not be the same for a while.

No frowns in misery though, as I always say. After all, most of those I know survived the ordeal, Including me! Not that it makes most of them all that merrier (looking at all the grim faces I’d think I was the only one happy just to be alive. Well Mrs Buttons looks kinda content too. Good girl).

I sure have my work cut out for me!

Peoply changes

Dear Diary, things are changing with the people around me.

First of all Father Piuso is dead, died from illness I understand. He won the charity auction for me the other week. He never got a chance to redeem his price – an evening of jolly jesterly mirth. A true tragedy, that.

Secondly, Orbie seems to have been ennobled. Baron de Savir! Good on him, surely it must be what he always dreamt of! Must be a lot of responsibility though – I wouldn’t trade him his newfound position for the life of me. I’ve heard the Lord of Spring smiles on nobles though, so I wonder if Orbie looks shinier next time we meet. Maybe I’ll stuff him in a closet and see if one can spot a glow.

A foolish-y auction coming up

There is an auction and ball coming up, arranged by the Lady Cellan dul Ansari and Orbie . Will be good fun! I love festivities. The whole shebang is for a good cause I think, but I forget what it is. Anyway, I’m to be auctioned off! For charity! Winner gets to buy me dinner or something. Or maybe just to hang out with me. Or to have me hang out with them, pulling their toes or something. I’m a bit loose on the details, I guess it depends on who wins the bid. Or if anyone dares to bid, for that matter. I promise I shall not be a boring dinner-date at least!

Butterin’ up a fool

Held a most ego-enhancing conversation with Sir Porter today.

(Sir Porter! I remember when first meeting him, a ratty new kid in town! How quickly they grow up, sniff.)

He’s got quite the honeyed tongue on him that one. Buttered me up just good he did. Sir Porter relayed that a certain master Troubadour said good things about me. Which of course made me all pleased both with Sir Porter and with said master Troubadour – a most successful buttering-up as far as butterings go. Then again I was always a sucker for flattery.

Sir Porter then finished up by giving me a moldy fish. Flattery perfected. Lemme tell ya, that man was born to be a knight.

Murderous mysteries!

Dear Diary. I was killed last night, then I danced with my killer before being carried off by a dream. All in a night’s work!

A most marring experience it was, full of drama, accusations and knifes in the back! Of course after my death I immediately rose as a ghost and could partake in the game of finding out who did it. Would have been a most boring death otherwise.

As it turned out, the heroic red fox was the culprit. Not very heroic to do such to a wee jester girl! He nearly got away with it too – only reason he was caught was because everyone thought him innocent, funnily enough. As penance for his crimes, I demanded the first dance with him. Vandagan dances are pretty tricky, but he did well.

I was later swept off my feet (literally) by a raging dream, carried out into the night. The ghost carried by the dream. There’s some comedy to that I think. The guests didn’t start to pull out the sugar cubes until later though. I think.

Being in the Know

Dear Diary. A strange fellow he is, that Orbie. Why cares he what a jester thinks of him? Why does he bother one whit about the pointless things I say? I know I talk too much, but he has known me this long – he should know that he should pay me no heed by now. Sometimes I think he confuses me for something else, like if he’s looking to find someone else under the harlequin’s mask. Such sillyness! There is nothing under there to find. Except some marbles. I know a lost a few somewhere, hihi.

… Oh, and I met the king too. He was very, very tall, but really, really nice. I like the king.

Heavy breakfast

 The other day I had breakfast with Countess Dmitreva, the very nice lady who has agreed to retain me and made me her court-fool (still can’t really stomach such a fancy title for myself though). She is so very kind and generous! The waiter of the Blue Ballad looked at me like I was something dragged in from the street – which was perfectly fine since it’s pretty much true. How he gawked as she ordered breakfast for me!

She does need a jester, the high lady, for she is swift to anger and, I think, involved in lots of serious business beyond that seen in my silly presence. ‘Tis fine, serious business is not of my concern – but offering her a smile is. It was thus no good that I had to relay bad news about her murder-mystery party: the Queen Consort will not be able to attend. Lady Dmitreva is most sensitive about everyone showing up for that party, and being the one to give her (or anyone) frowns is very … painful for me.

Anyway, I shall do better with the king!

Say no more

Dear Diary. For some reason many of these entries have been concerned with bathing. It’s simply because I tend to I have so much fun when bathing! For even more fun, add the following ingredients:

  1. Naked man who is a bit awkward by your presence
  2. A water-loving dog that is not at all awkward by your presence
  3. Lots of hot water

Stir and mix with a jingle of bells. Hilarity ensues.