2 Grimhall House Guards, Ivan arrive, following Sanya.

As the hour tips over into early evening, the heat and humidity remains almost insufferably unbearable and oppressive. But within the Queensrest Inn, the air is delightfully cool with no shortage of refreshing beverages flowing in rounds ordered on the whim of a young socialite lounged back within her cushioned seat at one table in particular. A deck of cards rests within Katarina's hands, shuffling and cutting it over and over again with a graceful flick of her wrist while awaiting to see if anyone might bite to her impromptu little social hour.

Fanning herself as she drifts into the Inn, escaping the heat, Sanya Grimhall uses a napkin to damn at her brow where beads of sweat had appeared. Noticing Katarina sat at the couches, she approaches the woman, curtsying before greeting her. "Your highness, I hope you've been well."

Katarina shifts out of her partial recline, eyes bright with appeasement to see Sanya. "Now that I've escaped that terrible wave of humidity, I'm quite well," she chimes affably, gesturing the Grimhall lady to join her in soft invitation. "You, however, look as though you're in need of a good drink and rest. Would you care to join me?"

Spontaneous applause erupts in the Queensrest Inn for the wildly famous visitor.

Dolmen, a Crimson Agent arrives, following Harlex.

Spontaneous applause erupts in the Queensrest Inn for the wildly famous visitor.

3 Thrax Guards arrives, following Jasher.

Taking a seat beside the princess, Sanya nestles against the pillows. "Thank you. I think I could do with cooled wine." She turns to a server to request a glass. "I should have been prepared for this." She gestures to the weather with a chuckle.

If looks could kill. The moment Harlex crosses the threshold, he's assailed by the applause of several guests and the staff who move on him. His eyes narrowing slightly with contempt. "Just--No I ain't shakin' your hand. Just get me--Whisky." He manages to get out, pushing his way through a couple dignitaries and toward the middle of the Inn where he spies Katarina and Sanya. Tall, dark and handsome (in that roughened, dangerous way), he seems to collect himself before offering at least one of the familiar faces a tip of his head. A slight smile. "Evenin."

pose occupies one of several couches arranged around a table, accompanied by Sanya as the two seek solace from the oppressive humidity outside. "I've come to adopt the belief that not even one born and raised here would ever be manage to be unaffected by it," she surmises over a short tinkle of laughter, pacing herself with a few sips of chilled, water down wine. There is, after all, still a great Lenosian crisis of wine ongoing. Woe to the socialites. "Good eve to you, my lord. Have you come to answer the call of respite from the smother of the humidity?"

Sanya glances up at the sound of applause, noting Harlex before he approaches them. Offering him a warm smile with her greeting. "Good evening. Lady Sanya Grimhall, a pleasure to meet you." She introduces herself, before turning to Katarina. "No one I have seen." She chuckles.

Harlex moves to occupy one of the couches. Before that, however, he inclines his head to them both. "Harlex Valtyr," he offers. "Captain of the Crimson Blades." Certainly no Lord, by the cut of him. He sets the bundle of his bound and belted swords against the arm of that seat. He looks over the table and takes his whisky as its brought forth. "I have," he tells Katarina. "Not too lucky at the turn. But I enjoy a game or two."

The door opens and Jasher stalks in, sealskin boots treading heavily upon the floor, his jacket cinched shut despite the heat. He pauses, looking around in bewilderment at the applause and approving looks, before his eyes land upon the table where Harlex, Katarina, and Sanya are occupied among the couches. He heads that-a-way, and while his retinue does their best to dissuade those with no regard for personal space, the prince did have to elbow aside an overly invasive socialite as he walks past, ignoring their offended squawk before coming to a stop at the table and offering an incline of his head. "Good day," he says.

Setting aside her glass of watered down wine, Katarina glides forward to the edge of her seat and reaches for the card deck. "What is the fun of a game if the odds are always in your favor? I find losing to be just as thrilling," she chimes light-heartedly to the Crimson Blades captain before introducing herself in kind. "And well met, Captain. I am Katarina Valardin, admiral of exploration for my house and humble card game enthusiast." When Jasher, too, finds himself nearly accosted upon his entry, the prince is waved over to join the trio. "We were just getting a round of cards started, Your Highness. How does a game of bluff and chance sound?"

The Grimhall dips her head to the prince as he enters. "Your highness." She smiles, before turning her gaze to the deck of cards. "A loss can be thrilling, although possibly not in a positive way if something is being gambled." When a glass of wine is placed before her, she thanks the servant and takes a sip. "That sounds good."

Sanya has joined the Orazio's Table Nearest the Fire.

Harlex sits forward with a lean, hands on his glass of liquor, posture somehow both in repose and alert. "Depends on the stakes, that's true." He agrees, nodding toward Sanya with a slight wryness to his smile. "Doubt the Admiral here," this is toward Katarina, "Would have us puttin' up our lives though." When Jasher arrives he gets a respectful nod. A gesture toward one of the seats. "Saddle up, Your Highness. We're about to lay it all on the line."

Harlex has joined the Orazio's Table Nearest the Fire.

"Preferable to the heat and the sycophants." Jasher nods once the trio's way before finding a seat nearby, settling down with only the rustling of the peacebound blade at his side. For drinks, he asks for rum. Of course. "Though I will have to disappoint you, Captain. I would rather walk."

Katarina's lips twitch with faint humor at Jasher's quip, giving the card deck another good shuffle before she begins to swiftly deal everyone in with a spread of six cards, face down. "I sincerely hope that you're all quite good at holding your composure and reading between the lines," she laughs. The deck is traded for her sweeping up her hand, viewing it pensively. "In truth, the game is more about gall and risk than the cards themselves. You look at your hand, gauge the value of the cards and try to suss out how terrible or good the other players' are. And, if you think you can beat them, you can challenge them to a show-down or try to negotiate another player to call out another player on your behalf by brokering a deal - gambling with chance and your bluff. How does that sound?"

Smiling with amusement at Jasher's mention of sycophants, Sanya straightens in her seat, leaning forward as she prepares to play. "I'm in." She says in response, taking another drink from her glass.

Harlex is loathed not to crack a small grin, laughter low and brief. He takes a sip from the glass. "I'm in." He adds, after Sanya.

Katarina's explanation of the game is met by Jasher's curious gaze, as well as a dubious lift of an eyebrow. "I--see," he says slowly, then offers a slight shrug of umbra-clad shoulders. "Very well. Let us play." This is uttered with all the seriousness of a captain declaring battle stations.

Katarina watches as everyone voices their assent, pleased. "Then it is settled," she decrees, rearranging herself comfortably against the armrest to bring Jasher, Harlex, and Sanya well within her line of sight. With a flick of her wrist, she turns her fanned cards over to see what the fates have given her.

(OOC: +check luck at 15=<yourself>. Based on the results, that's either how extremely terrible or good your cards are.)

Accepting the cards from Katarina, Sanya gives them a good glance, placid demeanour unchanging before glancing around the table.

Harlex takes his cards and he studies them, without lifting them from the table. One glance is all he needs. Then he's looking around at the others. His features a mask of stoniness. Sharp eyes. Intense focus.

Jasher receives his hand, and glances at it. One thick eyebrow lifts, before it lowers as he looks up, and at the other (almost literal) poker faces around him. "I suppose if the both of you challenge each other, I can show my cards to the winner," he finally says, mildly.

Katarina quirks her lips marginally at Jasher. "You most certainly would like that, wouldn't you?" she teases him softly. "But what if your hand isn't nearly as good as you think it is, Your Highness?"

Sanya checked perception + empathy at difficulty 15, rolling 40 higher.