Like a backpack, I hold your stuff, just my design is far more rough. Picture a stick, slung over shoulder, and this tied neatly, stuff in order.

I sit by the sea, play cards, and need a compliment, so I go...

I am the start of a compromise, hidden in view, I am the word before ring, that a lover might bring. I am the word before keeper, for someone who's true, And when pinky comes first, I'm a bond between two. What word am I?

A little of me goes a long way, breathe me in and you're likely to blow me away. I stand with a partner who's got table in its name. Where it accentuates, I change the game.

I go up when it's hot and down when it's cold, but I never move myself. What am I?