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>Best of 3 Coin Rolls
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">69 = 1000</span></span> + 99 + 83 = 1,182 Đ
>Best of 3 for your item
43
>Best of 3 for Astur's item
75
>Best of 3 for event roll
68
"Be that as it may, it feels like you pilfered the purse of every ship you burnt," Astur says, eying the chest's you've laid out the bench with uncertainty. Just over a dozen little lockboxes, none of them much larger than the fresh baked loaves of bread father crumbled up and scattered about your nesting hall when you were young. Each of them lacquered and decorated with filigrees of brass, silver, or gold around the iron locking mechanism. "How do you even plan on getting these open? It's not like we have the keys..."
You flash Astur a sly grin as you fish through your haversack with one hand. A sparkle lights in your eye as her face slowly transforms into a mask of dread.
"No..." she whispers into the evening air. "Don't tell me you mean to smash them all apart...?"
"Do I look like a witless gull to you?" you say with a snort of derision. With a twirl of silver about your many fingers, you show her just what you retrieved from your haversack: a pair of pins shaped <span class="mu-i">just so</span>, to latch onto the inner mechanisms of a lock and make pretend you have the key. Father taught you in their use. "I'll open them right up with my most delicate talons. I've no want to see the shinies scatter from their home after a long drop and a sudden stop."
"Josh and Sophie, I've thrown my lot in with a thieving scoundrel," Astur complains with the lightest of all blasphemies. You wince at how she shortened the names of the Lord's own children. Father never approved of such, and always stole away your stash of hoarded honeyed almonds from your nesting hall as a punishment for the blasphemy. Even after Brother Tully repeatedly assured him that the Anointed cared little for such things. "For your father's sake, I pray you're not a liar."
You show her a flat expression before getting back to tinkering with the locks. "I'm neither liar nor thief, and I'll thank you not to call me such."
"Then how do you know how to... well, <span class="mu-i">that</span>?" Astur asks as the first lockbox pops open. A disappointing number of shinies, and a slip of fancy paper for money from a bank that's now most certainly burnt to ash. Her yellow eyes narrow as you pull the coins out to count them with a smile on your face. "Most people can't open a lock with a pair of metal sticks, you know."
"Father says most people have less curiosity than an oak has leaves in winter," you explain. Astur's eyes glaze over as she tries to process the metaphor, which makes you sigh. The second box pops open before you continue, "I, on the other hand, am a curious little bluebird who wants to know more about the world and its mechanisms. A witless gull will smash the mussel open and nibble on sand covered innards. A clever bluebird knows where to prod with her talons to make it open, and feasts upon fresh meat."
