Please write out an example of play (2-3 rounds) showing your concepts in action.
Yes, please. This would help a lot.
Well, I can't very well go this far just to withhold what y'all really want...
{Scene: Rough Rock Inn; outskirts of the Pleated Vale Forest on the road to Ivanville}
Roland, Sylvanae, Heirthvir, and Clippins have requested their meals, and settled by the winter fire to mull over their opening drinks.
Finger foods are presented shortly after their top up; Roland takes a bun, dips it into his gravy, and makes dour a face after his first bite.
"Oi Sylvie! Mind passin' the salt, love?" He doesn't even look at her as he takes a disinterested swig.
"Thine manners tempt the vultures, knave--oblige those arms which have no want for reaching."
"Come off it lass, but I can ask yu wit' me pretty-pleases if that suits yor womanly tempers..."
"Thou audacious boar! A pox on the name of the tramp that sired you with his hut-whored mother!" [Aggression initiated; Roland next]
"Aye, 'tis another great misfortune for a dainty thing such as yorself to be prancin' 'round wit'te likes o' me! I bet yor dear ol' man must be quakin' in 'is boots with such rages to call yu 'is daughter!" [Heirthvir and Clippins are tied for initiative, but they sit and continue their drinks; the few weary travelers seated about the inn have frozen in place, craning their necks to absorb the ruckus, while the serving wench begins to nervously look for the burly bartender Olger]
"CURSES upon you claymen! I shall smite the audacious teeth from thine peasant mouth!" [Sylvanae draws her sword, casting her stool behind her in her hasty leap to her feet; on Roland's turn, he shoves the table over, tackling Sylvane to the ground; Heirthvir and Clippins have taken attacks of opportunity actions to save their drinks and snacks from falling to the floor; the bar patrons are leaned over to the view the fight better, some gapping their mouths and a few beginning to rummage from their coin purses to begin the pot.]
[Olger has now just come into the scene, holding a tenderizer mallet in one hand and is astonished to see a large human and an athletic elfess wrestling on the floor... He is about the yell "Right, wot's this then?!" at the mess and commotion, when Roland pins Sylvane's arms to the floor--they stare at each other, their eyes burning upon each other fiercely for scantly a third of a moment, and that's when she locks her lips to the man above her. Everyone stares in confused silence, as Heithvir chuckles and waves Olger over; the conflict has now ended.]
"Mine friend," began Heithvir as Olger approached close enough for a confidential exchange, "Our party once found ourselves in some dire straights, and our two bright lovers here once put on such a show to distract some unsavoury excuses for nobility from trying to burn our miserable selves alive. The ruse worked, so we fled and made good upon our escape--"
"Wot, yu mean the Kleibold House? Are they going to attack you here?!"
"Nay, good sir," Clippins chuckled with a wink, "The Kleibolds believe we are still crossing the mountain past in the east. As for your wild wonder of them, they've now recounted the full story so many times as to have grown a tad fond of their theatrical motions, if you catch my meaning..."
"Ja, and every tavern they have blessed with their performance has drawn quite the crowd for at least the season."
Olger was only flabbergasted long enough for the sounds of tinkling coin in generous piles to grace the humble space between his ears, then smiled and thanked them for their patronage. Clippins interjected as the barkeep began to turn about:
"One more thing, my good Olger, if you would be so kind?" and upon hearing this, Olger turned back around, grabbing a knocked over stool and sat with his ears cupped against the song and commotion behind him, with a curious expression of intent. Heithvir cleared his throat, and changed his tone to a controversial whisper:
"Our party doth travel towards the Great Badlands, as we do seek some trinket of interest in our plight against yon Kleibold scallywags--perhaps there's a good man such as yourself whom could kindly inform us of a reliable path and a stalwart guide through their birthright hunting grounds?"