[And once again, perhaps its the drink or his own bone-deep exhaustion or the lack of food or all of the above, perhaps it's just his own weak heart, but his lips quirk in an involuntary smile at the sound of the magician's laughter, and he lets whatever small irritation he felt slide. He knows how to be a good sport, besides. Still doesn't think Asra could drink him under the table.]

All right, all right, let me see...

[And he taps his fingers against the bar in rhythmic order as he thinks it through, mutters quietly to himself, clearly trying hard.]

I once got stranded on a desert island for three days with nothing but coconuts and warm beer for sustenance until a passing ship was good enough to rescue me. In Prakra I was kicked off my medical studies for seducing my mentor's wife, and when we were children sometimes Pasha used to put a sheet over her head and dress up as a ghost to try and frighten me.

There you are, then. Have at it.

[And he leans back with a grin to await the magician's response.]