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Looking at the dwarf who just bellowed at him, he readies himself to sprint... just in case. "... I... see." he says, his voice a whole octave higher than it has been, though, to be fair, it's hard to hear, as it's quite soft and low right now. Still crouching, but now eyeing the dwarf warily, he scooches a ways away in a "subtle" gesture of nervousness at the dwarf's demeanor. "Subtle" in this case being roughly equal to a seagull landing on your platter. In the midst of a fine dinner. Licking his lips, he smiles - well, he tries, and eventually gets one kind of nervously going - and, continues with the gambling thing. "Ah-ah-ah, yes, well, r-right, let's... let's just continue along with the betting, yes? Shall we? Alright then. Yes." he says, putting on an air of civility, and calm. The "calm" part fools roughly no one, but he works at it, nonetheless. He likes friends, not foes.
Nodding at the dwarf a little nervously - almost as if he doesn't trust someone holding something sharp and then specifically denying its combat potential - he replies "Ah, hm, yes, good, good! I see, I see!" Looking over at the blonde human (Derrick), he adds, "So, a young lad and a strong half-orc man, head-to-head in a cooking battle ro~yal? Excellent!" he smiles, hopefully. He lets go of Joan and Derrick at last (not that he had much of a grip). "Well, if you're willing to place your bets, let's put one right here, and another right here..." he indicates his sturdy leaf hat for one and his bandana (which he takes off of his head) for the other. "Step up one, step up all, for a battle ro~yaaaaal, between this fine young fellow here," he gestures, indicating young Steven, "... and this most excellent person of character here!" he indicates "Salty". Noting Joan's comment, he adds, "And with a lovely face like your own, who could doubt it, my dear?" he winks once again, and then, "Choose your bets! Make your mark!"
At the half-orc, "Oh, my dear friend, indeed Yucca would be delightful here, though 'tis been quite some time since I've seen it, it's true." he smiles. Turning to Derrick at his follow-up comment, "Indeed, my blonde friend, this close to the sea 'tis no concern! But, of course, I would divest myself of my cloak were I to assist in the cooking... though in honesty, I'd mostly be moral support, and I'd wager that's what you'd want me to be! Speaking of wagering, however, I could establish a betting ring, for some 'strong guesses' on which of our cooks would 'win' the competition, if I, perhaps, had a few investors willing to put some money on the line to make some quick coin..." he looks around slyly. Glancing at the half-orc "And if the dwarf can't, indeed, cook, than I'd say you may just have it in the bag! Would you be willing to allow these fine folk to judge for you? Or perhaps a specific pre-selected panel of unbiased judges? Hm?" he winks at Joan as he says this. At the dwarf's notice, he adds, "Ah, I wouldn't doubt you for a minute! Not even a second, good dwarf!" he notes, seriously, "And that has very little to do with the fact that you're holding a pointy thing, and very much because you seem to know exactly how not to waste good Yucca, despite any ground-hugging said Yucca may have done! Among any other obvious talents you may have!"
"Oh, how excellent! 'Heated' cooking is so much better than the plain old 'but it's got lime juice!' they had back home, let me tell you! Alas, however, one can never tell what's happened, exactly, 'pon the docks, so I shan't happen 'pon it, either, I'm afraid!" He sighs heavily, leaning on his two "new friends" for a moment. Then, looking at the dwarf and half-orc, "But alas! The masterpieces of culinary delights that the two of you surely, surely crafted are ruined! Mayhap, perchance, with a wee bit o' diplominating, the two of you could find quite a few intriguing and most excellent elements to work together wherewith we all might agree 'pon the primacy of your cooking! By which, of course, I mean, let's try it again! And this time we can watch (or help) you work together, or you can have a most excellent and agreed 'pon statement before-hand, upon the completion of which the victor might gain some spoils! Almost like a wager, yes?" he smiles winningly. "I, of course, wouldn't wager... t'wouldn't be proper!" (You are all likely keenly aware that he doesn't care a lick for "proper" anything - it's written all over his lying, if diplomatic and beaming, face.)
At the sound of shanty and food, a very hungry- and happy-looking man spins 'round and heads over toward the blonde human and the brown-haired girl , putting a hand 'round both their shoulders drawing them together with some others nearby. "Food?" he says, "Music? Lovely!" he exclaims. "Oh, yes, let's! Say, who here can cook? Anyone? Give us a demonstration, eh? Let's see some of those cooking skills in action, yah? Excellent way to make friends! Excellent all-round! Everyone who can should pitch in, so we can all share!" he enthuses at everyone, grinning, broadly. "Best way of making friends and not foes, my Ma always used to say! Right-sharp, she did! Friends instead of foes!"
A man in a most unusual full-body cloak hurries up to the line. His face is even obscured by the weird leaf thing, but he removes the leafy head-covering. "Greetings!" he calls cheerily to man at the head of the line. He smiles and nods at various people along the way, "Oh, yes, pardon me, oh excuse me, oh, quite right, excellent - oh, and a good day to you sir, yes indeed, things are looking up!" he exclaims to a man he passes by who, it must be admitted, does have a finger pointed upward in the air at the stranger who simply escorts himself to the front of the queue. A small something glints beneath his strange cloak. "Ah, right, Thomas Silverspoon reporting for duty as-requested by 'the man' hisself, yessir!" he beams brightly.
DC 5 Sense Motive:
The captain clearly has not called for him. He winks, and then, "Well, I suppose I hain't been requested yet, mind, but when he sees my skill with a ledger, marking the marks, and making the books, and what not? H'I'll be requested right-smart!" he explains jovially, writing his name down on the edge of the sheet despite the angry looks of others.
DC 19 Sense Motive:
The man seems... nervous, about something. He's continually looking over his shoulder and around at others, as if searching for something. Though he seems easy-going enough, and perhaps overly-touchy-feely and highly animated, the latter mostly seems to be a movement to disguise how his arms move frequently to grasp something near his chest.
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