It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Being the adventurers they are, they took it upon themselves to leap out into the forest of the Vesper Timberland, found and hunted down this hydra, fought it, and upon slaying it discovered that there was another group also hunting this hydra. An actually sanctioned group, and hunting this hydra is considered illegal in Vasselheim unless you had actually been contracted to do so.
DM: The Bahamut section is far away. That's another section of the city. You are now on the line between the Duskmeadow and the Quad Roads, so it's Erathis and the Raven Queen.
Player: I'm pulling a mask off the wall. This is a beautiful piece. Do you make them yourself?
DM: "I do. I do, I make them myself by hand, hence the price."
Player: They are quite beautiful. We're travelers here. I've never seen a neighborhood like this. Is there a festival going on here, or is this pretty much the basic fare of the day here?
DM: "This is the localized festival of the city. If you've been around Vasselheim long enough you've seen there is little interest in celebration depending on some places. But, at least on this line, some people can appreciate the fleetness that is life and grasp it by the roots and make it its own before it's snuffed out."
Player: Here particularly, there seems to be electricity in the air almost. It's very bustling. This is the norm around here?
DM: "Consistently. That's why I come and bring my business here. I wouldn't do very well up north, I'll tell you that. All them dragon types--" Looks to you. "No offense. All them silver dragon lovers have an issue with things as celebratory."
Player: And I pull out ten gold, and I spread them on her desk.
DM: "How many masks?"
