Bastian: A little bird landed on my shoulder and whispered some very juicy information in my ear. Most of it matches perfectly with what I've heard Ike tell the princess. Yes, the information I'm not sharing with you is most interesting indeed. Delectable, even.
Volke: You never could resist a tasty morsel of gossip.
Bastian: We all our habits have. In any case, my doubts about you and Commander Ike have been put to rest.
Volke: How kind of you.
Bastian: That's all I need say. I just thought I'd ease your concerns. Consider it a professional courtesy.
Volke: You're well suited to skulking behind the scenes and playing the puppeteer. Have you considered a change in employer?
Bastian: My allegiance is with the Crimean royal family. I'm sure you understand.
Volke: You still want something from me. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here.
Bastian: When does your contract with Commander Ike expire?
Volke: Heh. Why do you ask?
Bastian: There is a very delicate matter I'd like you to attend to. It's something only you are suited to...address.
Volke: I've known you for a long time now, and I've never seen such a desperate glimmer in your eye.
Bastian: Twenty thousand.
Bastian: I'll get you twenty thousand. But you'll have to attend to it right away.
Volke: That sounds...tasty. Unfortunately, I have a policy against taking two jobs at once. It will have to wait until this one is over.
Volke: Don't fret, Bastian. My contract with Ike will only last as long as this war, and it's already coming to an end. It's not clear yet who will win, but it's certainly coming to a head. When my plate is clean, I'll find you.
Bastian: This is absurd! You won't take the job?
Volke: Oh, I'll take it. I never pass up a lucrative offer. Plus, I've come to think you're not so bad, Bastian. You've always paid in full and on time. I like that in an employer.
Bastian: So I'm an excellent employer? Perhaps I should set you up with a pension! Ta ha ha! In any case, it appears that I will have to wait until the end of this miserable war to secure your services. But do not dawdle, Volke. It is a matter of utmost urgency.
Makalov: Incredible! I had no idea this army had the luxury of hiring a street performer. They are clashing with the mighty Daein! Who knew they had a taste for comedy? Or the time, for that matter...
Bastian: I take it you direct your words at me. Lest my eyes lie, you are Sir Makalov! A Begnion soldier of some great renown.
Makalov: Wow! H-how did you know my name? You're just a street performer. Wait... Oh, I see. That's your schtick, isn't it? I have to hand it to you... You guessed my name right!
Bastian: A street performer? Ha! I dare say no! You think me one to don the cap and bells, and gambol in the street for petty coin? But soft, I see why you might mark me so. Though now I am a man of some esteem, that job was once my sole mean of employ. When I look back on my performing days, I know that any hardship in my road shall be like ashes at the fire's end! Yet till Crimea sees its freedom come, I shall pass myself as the simple fool!
Makalov: Ha ha ha!! You're such a comedian!! That's hilarious! Hey, why don't we go get some dinner? Maybe you can tell a few jokes! Or juggle plates! I LOVE plate juggling!
Bastian: In truth, you make an offer square and just. And though it would do my heart very well, I fear I must decline this eve's repast. Perhaps we could meet for a meal anon? I shall but count the minutes to the time!
Makalov: Wha ha ha ha! Man, you're too much! But sure, that's fine with me. See you later, fool!
Bastian: Excellent! Most excellent, good and fair... What ho? The watch! Alas, I must depart!
Makalov: Ha! What a riot! I've never seen him before! I wonder when we'll meet again.
???: Hey! You there! Show some respect!
Makalov: Oh, a Crimean soldier. Can I help you?
Crimea soldier: Don't talk to me like I'm stupid! You also fight for the Crimean army, do you not?
Makalov: Oh, yeah... That's right. Now that Ike is the commander of the Crimean army, that automatically makes me a Crimean soldier, too. Ha ha! I'm your brother-in-arms!
Crimea soldier: Weeeell... Because you're a member of General Ike's personal mercenaries, I'll cut you a break this time... However! Know that the man you were just talking to is the Count Bastian himself!
Makalov: Ha ha... Huh?
Crimea soldier: Lord Bastian, the Count of Fayre, is a distinguished member of the Crimean royal court. He even served as the right hand of the late prince. How dare you address him like some common street fool! If you don't want to get clobbered, I suggest you show some respect! Is that clear!?
Makalov: That street performer is a Crimean noble? If that's true... He must be packed to the gills with gold! Makalov, you devil... It's time to turn on that famous charm!
Makalov: Count Bastian, you'd consider us close now, right?
Bastian: You, sir, are as the dearest of my friends. We drink and sup until the morning light!
Makalov: All right then, why don't we play a little game? You may not know it. It's a favorite game of the common folk. But once it charms you, it never lets go!
Bastian: A game played by the commoners, you say? What fun! We must this enterprise engage! Pray tell the rules of your wondrous lark.
Makalov: It's simple. You make a wager, and then you guess the pattern on these face-down wooden blocks right here. If you guess right, you win money! If you guess wrong, you lose... Simple, really!
Bastian: Ah ha! You do not fool me, my good sir! This lark is played in all the gaming dens, where fool and coin are ever parting ways.
Makalov: Gulp! W-what? You mean...y-you've been to a gambling parlor before?
Bastian: I know of such, but haven't in one stepped. But I will say...my interest has been piqued.
Makalov: Then let's go to the local gambling hall! Come on, you can just get a taste for it. I'll show you the way. Don't worry about being new to the game. Someone as rich as you can play all night and still come home with a fat wallet.
Bastian: I shall not play. I must content myself with watching.
Makalov: Whaaat!? Why would you just want to watch?
Bastian: My homeland of long years is in dire peril. I cannot play while sweet Crimea burns. Oh look, the moon has risen o'er the hills! I must retire now to sleep's cold grip. Take care to not empty your purse! Ta ta!
Makalov: Aaah! Nooo! He's gone... There goes my loot! Waaaait! Come baaaack!
Bastian: We went unto the hall and gambled there. We stayed until the cock did crow at dawn! So why do you bestare me with a look?
Makalov: Bastian... You lied to me, didn't you?!
Bastian: What, me? I did not in my--
Makalov: LIAR!! "I've never been to a gambling parlor," you said... HA!! You looked more at home there than I did! What's more, I lost my shirt and you cleaned house! And you're telling me not to glare at you?! Ha! Explain yourself! And no more poetry!
Bastian: ...Sigh... I didn't lie to you, Makalov. That was the first time I ever set foot inside a gambling parlor. However... The nobles have a similar gambling game that I was quite familiar with.
Makalov: Blast! The rich just get richer! What's wrong with this world!?
Bastian: The gold I won is not that important. I came along simply because you wanted me to test my luck. But...I did break the house, didn't I? I couldn't have dreamt a better ending! It makes me positively giddy. Ta ha ha!
Makalov: You don't need the money? Well, I'll gladly take it!
Bastian: Not a chance. War consumes money at an astonishing pace. This goes right into Crimea's war chest.
Makalov: No need to worry about that. Crimea will win this war.
Bastian: Hm? Is that so? Why do you say that?
Makalov: Because she has a disgustingly lucky man like you on her side. There's no way she will lose two battles in a row.
Bastian: I see you have a gift for foresight.
Makalov: So about that money...
Bastian: If Crimea is victorious, I shall fill your coffers with so much gold that even a team of oxen could not drag them!
Bastian: I don't make promises I can't keep. I have many means to make money. Don't you worry yourself over that.
Makalov: You're on! I better give this war my best. It's the gamble of a lifetime!
Bastian: Ahhh... Lady Lucia. What an exquisite pleasure. Would you allow me to place a kiss upon your creamy white hand?
Lucia: Sorry, my lord. I've been sharpening my blade, and my hands are covered in grime.
Bastian: Nonsense! I have no objections, milady. The grime merely accentuates your beauty.
Lucia: I have objections, Bastian.
Bastian: Ahhh... She addresses me so curtly, but it only stokes my furnace of attraction! It is only in my nature to hunt and pursue a tantalizing beast that flees me! You have such a devious grip on my heart!
Lucia: Don't even think I'm going to fall for that trick! It might work with the others, but I'm no doe-eyed fawn! Why don't you just give up already?
Bastian: Ahhh, splendid! This fawn has sharp hooves! But still she spurns my advance... Next time, I shall woo her with words!