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darting around
the majority of delegates are not on any committees
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Some people have just been leaving the convention every day during the lunch break and not coming back, but Gastó is pretty sure that's a bad idea! The more time you spend at the convention, the better chance you have of someone picking you out as someone worth hiring for a speech. The price they'll pay for your vote has gone way down now that the voting's secret, but that's only a problem if you're scared to talk, and Gastó is pretty sure the archmage is way scarier than anyone who might get mad about his speeches.

Still, that leaves him with a lot of time to kill.

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"What're you playing?"

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"It's called devilpin."

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"...Because you're attacking the devils. Just to be clear here."

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"Nose." He throws a dart.

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It goes wide, bouncing off the wall and clattering to the floor.

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He laughs. "You're up to fifteen. Aren't you Erastil-types supposed to be good at hunting?"

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"Shut up."

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"Tongue."

She throws the dart.

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It strikes the wooden carving of a devil right in the middle of its tongue.

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"That brings me down to six."

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"Sooner or later you're going to have to stop just saying tongue each time."

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She is really very sure that she can keep chipping away at one point every round until she wins, but she's not going to say that.

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"Are you in?" he says to Conradí. "Ten silver to buy in."

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"Hey, you can't bring someone in mid-round."

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He glances at the wooden board. "Nah. ...Hey, bet you a gold you can't hit it square in the eyes."

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"Eyes aren't one of the options. It's horns, nose, tongue."

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"What, are you saying you can't do it?"

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Eyeroll. "Horns."

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The dart hits the board, a little to the left of the nose.

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Damn, he was hoping he'd take the bait. He's going to see if anyone else is playing a more interesting game.