Sur Regalia.

My whistling, dark steampunk 
fixation never took so bad a turn 
as that one time, at Ren Faire, when
I got caught out in full, funky suit
of armor by a she-mage  - no, that was
this female witch bizard's identification!
Said so on the badge! Her look

...said what's up robot. This is a fucking
ren fair, you know right?  

Oh. Yeah, magic user, what do you 
actually
do here?
I lost my uh badge, I'm not carding
you, gatekeeper. Is Hypocrisy a second
-level spell now? Dungeon's open these parts,
sure - always room - but looks like your wand's
dragon. Real magic is not welcome in such place
you propose to put it, surely. Or is it? 

I'm a courtesan ass. Who the hell are 
you? I thought fast. 

"Iron golem." 

She looked 
up
and down, cast Invisible Nod,
and her eye glanced a question 
that stuck fast. Pretending to be
age appropriate, we went off! 

All over. It was sum fun for all 
in range as we trekked questing
in search of rebirth, adventure, and
more experience points. The usual.

Later up, our combined armor class
ten by then, we discovered something
foul.

Her alignment! She was awful: called
herself Lawful Chaotic. That's nothing. 

 I was Evil for Your Own Good, and 
that kind of alignment mix found us
both too kind for cruel dice to add up
a level, and fused & confused as to how
we'd stood so far, so fast, or could stand
any farther.  

We were too alike
for make-believe, too close
for real, and away far out & in
too fast - love too soon? No, 
but just.

We'd already balked sideways 
at the price each paid. She paid
full Faire!  All the fixins! 

I snuck in like a loud, clanking ninja 
knight on steam power and sheer aplomb.
OK I knew the guard on the gate. Told him 
I'm a performer, which...did I lie?

She was too demure to demur.

Anyway, maybe I should have omitted
the price I paid from the backstory confab.
Don't mess with a paid-up she-mage whose
hat's tall three-ways, diaphanous capes breezy
from each tip, wears a robe slit up

to infinity, speculatively, just
a slip to one side

- and carries a wand
so large
she could put far worse
than a glowy effect up your
iron backside. We settled on: my treat,
rest of the way forever.

And sir? That's how I met the wife!
What are you dressed as? Leonardo
DiCaprio miscast as Davinci, making up
the gap by a stunning case of method acting?
Good take on era-appropriate, though. I say,
all these medieval types seem high on
anachronism, sometimes. But it's their drag,

right?

Some wife, huh. Good woman, but a little high 
high on hit points to need protection from us 
guys, right? Let's just say you invented me, 
and I'll just
clank and clunk
my mosey-mode way
over to the cowboy quadrant!

They have those everywhere,
in all times. Or so I inform!
Or else, well I'd misinform.

Now,  
I doubt that.
Do you? 

Draw and cast,
then
ren
man.

Expecto petroleum!
Activate steamwall! 
Iron up and charge! 
That will be zero ($0) 
dollars. Raise?

OK, I'm all-in
usually. 

Please, check.