<div class="floatright">(http://www.ambient-mixer.com/images_template/e/a/1/ea17d86c1dfe7119fbe3cde9d3d17282_full.jpg)</div>The call from Ayca for racers to start moving their way out the side door to the bar has definitely drawn some attention from the revelers inside.  Craftsmen, nobles, and adventurers alike begin to grab up their drinks, finish them off, and head towards the door.  "Thunk ye vury much!" comes out the call from the gnomish drummer who waves a hand of appreciation and takes up his equipment.  "I'yol be hure loiter, but forst, roisin."  But then, gnomes tend to be odd ducks.<br/><br/>The folks moving towards the race are varied with great claims and brags going about from the beginning.  A rather dainty, but well put together elvish gentleman declares in pitched voice his intent to bring him the prize, tucking his fine silk gloves into his belt as he does so.  Behind him a massive lizard-faced individual hisses in disagreement.  The couple of serving staff move around quickly grabbing up abandoned drinks and taking care of things as Ayca leads the participants out to the pitch.<br/><br/>Of course, there are still a good amount of people sitting around.  Most of the more high-class types remain seated including a robed woman with half-moon optics and the darker coloration of the Firakan people, the guards that were left behind as Phelypsis's new friend went to get a drink, several scruffy merchants engaged in a game of dice, and a well dressed young nobleman with long curly hair deep in philosophical discussion with several friends who seem more interested in pinching at barmaids than understanding the common folks.<br/><div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/79/d6/1b/79d61bd5e7a02a21b32d5d8ddfa0a0e3.jpg)</div>It is a rare soul indeed who can first meet Phelypsis and keep eye contact.  For that matter, it's a rare soul who can have a conversation with Phelypsis and keep eye contact.  This guard is not one of those.  He glances over toward the andra with a bored expression on his face for just a moment then looks back to the hopefully incoming ale.  Then his mind skips back and his head spins to her, eyes just a bit widened.  "Uh, hey," he responds as he stands up a bit straighter, adjusting his shoulders a little to look like he's slouching less.  His eyebrows don't quite raise up his head, but the guard's deep brown eyes definitely are dipping more than staying on Phelypsis's.<br/><br/>When he hears the challenge, he first glances in the direction of his compatriots, and then kind of stutters out, "Did... Did someone put you up to this?  I mean, to say, uh-"  He clears his throat a bit and turns, leaning against the bar just a little as he puts out a hand to shake on it.  "Hardly seems like a fair contest, giving me the opportunity to ask you to do whatever I want.  Especially with me being so likely to win," he retorts with a brash grin forming on his face.  "You've got a deal, demon.  Whoever scores highest claims the other for the night.  I'm Riset and what should I call you when I come to claim my prize?"  He seems to become more comfortable as he begins talking this way, the jovial cheeky teasing of guards apparently something easy to fall into.