Ah, the fruits of a successful raid. Spoils beget coin and coin beget fun and drink for the men! Oh yes, the men
and one woman, Darla, Majister's most recent addition to his small band of raiders. A sly charmer, Darla, despite her pensiveness at times. Quite the shark at cards, too, he might add.
Majister sat at a table with half of his band. Himself, Darla, Padre, Hillby, and Krull, and there were two other empty seats at the table as well. Empty because the previous two occupants--random drunkards--left in delightful shame after Darla cleaned one out at Allirian Five and Krull (a marvelously lucky wizard at dice like Majister himself!) rolled a two 12's and an 11 at Dueling Dice, cleaning out the other.
Majister leaned back in his wood-back chair and casually drank his mead and watched with a humming amusement as the other four were engaged in a game of Allirian Five.
First three cards revealed.
"Alright, put it down then," said Hillby. A rube from some backwater village near the border with
Falwood to the west. Thick accent. Pronounced
down like
dayown. Oh but the man had his uses, like overzealous loyalty. Why, he was so afflicted by this that he'd take an arrow for Majister if it came to it. A fine fellow!
Padre shrugged. Plinked down a few coins in the pile. "Burnin' all this metal tonight, anyway." A cynical man with an odd name, Padre. He never would say if such was nickname and if so how he got it, but a touch of enigma often makes a man, does it not? Nevertheless, Padre could see a tankard full of ale and declare it half-empty, such was his ongoing flirtation with pessimism. Oh but at least he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut at the right times.
"I think I'll give this one a go," Krull said, adding some of his own crowns to the pile. Strangely easy on the eyes for an orc, Krull, if you can believe it. He groomed himself as much if not more than Majister, and maintained a dignified, collected, and easy-going air about himself. Probably not full orc despite the name, but green
was green, hmmm?
Darla sighed. Said, "I don't know if I should."
"Don't be a bitch," said Hillby.
Bitch sounding like
byitch from his mouth.
Padre shrugged. Said nothing. Kept his eyes on his own two cards.
"Go with what your spirit is telling you. If it's saying yes, then flow with it." Krull, with his sage advice.
"Think so?" said Darla.
Krull smirked. "Sure. I'd love to spend your money."
Darla made a face. Lips down, slanted brow, cheeks scrunched.
And Majister grinned and said to her, "Haven't I told you Darla that you look simply
adorable when you make that face?"
"On multiple occasions."
"Remarkable features ought to be remarked upon, wouldn't you agree?"
Darla, caught up in another storm of pensiveness, ignored Majister. Then resolved herself to say, "Okay," and she placed her own bet into the pile.
The fourth card revealed. More coins onto the pile, and Padre bailed out. Down to Hillby, Krull, and Darla.
My, how do they keep falling for it? Fifth card revealed, the three of them revealing the two cards in their hands, and Darla raking in the coins toward her open satchel at the end of the table, a smug smile the whole time.
Majister let his eye drift to the two empty seats at his table, there amidst the raucous Lucky Heron tavern. Perhaps there would be some takers. Or perhaps he'd go and wander off to the fighting pits in the back. A splendid time, that. Who didn't like to see a satisfying knockout or two? Now there was some potential for a spot of gambling as well.
Yes. Pleasure before business at the moment. His chat with Baz Tannic could wait.
