Private Debt

„Her folks want her back at Brighthearth. Apparently, bit of a roadspirit, this one.“ The scar under Rob's eye never healed right.

„That place still standing?“

„There a reason why it shouldn't be?“

„No, no.“ Memory safely tucked between gulps of the bitter they passed off as a delicacy round these parts.

„Anyways – her family are these fancyfolk back home, and all a this is not a good look. Hired my ass to get hers to swing back home...“ Even years late, his eyes still counted exits.

„You need help finding a girl. YOU?“ Why couldn't a drink ever just be a drink? There were few people who could track Trevor down if he didn't want to be found. Suppose Rob was one of 'em. „Sides – what makes you think I wanna get involved in a family tussle?“ He had enough ghosts of his own. No need to add some bickering granpas and overeager uncles to the list.

„Well...you gonna make me say it?“ The grin on his mug might've been for shit, but Trevor wondered if it could swallow a fist.

„Why me? Satya knows you found me. How tough could a richgirl be?“ Owing people was such bullshit. Cause they never asked for things in return. Just let you dangle there and eat yourself alive. And, before long, you were talking yourself into doing a bullshit job for no reason other than your own guilt.

„Cause she's a slippery shit – kinda like you, when I think of it. Been tracking for months now, always turns up dead. No one's seen her in a week, just missed her, never even there...“ Rob took a break to taste the vintage too. The sourpuss told Trevor there were some things they still agreed on.

„I aint dragging anyone back. Find and bag are very different things.“ Used to be a time the only question he'd ask was whether they wanted the bag to squirm when shipped. Strange new world.

„Nah, wouldn't do much. She'd just escape next chance she got.“ Leaned in, waving Trevor closer. Even the stumps flinched. Guess some habits never left your hands. „Word is she wants to get tight with some sect of treehuggers...“

„Tree...like them fuckers from Garth?“

„Oi, keep your voice down! Na, nothing so sinister. Different group, completely unrelated.“ Looked about ready to smack Trevor. But they rarely did. Cause useful tools couldn't be mishandled, even when they had it coming.

„So I help her hug a tree, so she makes time to hug her da?“ Brows went up, but his patience could hardly follow.

„Somethin' like that.“ Knocked on the tablewood between 'em. „Don't really care about the details. Just need her to have one less reason to be on the road.“ Which, sure, sounded like a halfbaked plan. Only, people didn't always run to something. There was also the running away kind. Once she hugged a tree all nice and proper, who's to say it wouldn't be trying to find the fucking mermaids next? But that was none of his business.

„What she look like, anyway?“

Somewhere in the hinterlands between Altalusia and the Free States, a sleepy farming village lay nestled between scattered woodlands and the rolling foothills approaching the Mheara Mountains. In the dim twilight of evening, a commotion stirred in a merchant camp.

"I've got ye now, ye treacherous wench!"

"Oh yeah? You and what army?"

"Oy, trollop! I'm the Sheriff o' Covington! The whole o' the Lord's Fort answers to me... and I'll not have thieves, cultists and seductresses besmirching me fair city!"

Brighid heaved a deep sigh and ran a frustrated hand through her long hair. "Could I please have a mulligan? This character is terrible." She frowned and held up a faded playing card depicting a sultry woman on its surface.

The dwarven woman who was sitting across from her flashed a self-satisfied smirk. "Nope. Ye get what ye get. And ye be a Seductress."

Runadwynn laid a card depicting several armored figures on horses upon the table with an authoritative jut of her chin. "And the Sheriff o' Covington calls forth the knights to attack-" her stubby index finger fanned around the three other players at the table until it reached a blonde human youth, who was glaring between her and the cards in his hand.

"Aysel the assassin!"

Brighid raised an eyebrow at Rune's change in tactics. The youth, Aysel, looked unimpressed.

"I hide from your knights using my Shadow Weaving skill."

Rune slapped a card down on the table. "I use me Celestial Lantern to find ye!"

Aysel retaliated with a card of his own. "I use my Ring of Persuasion to enlist the seductress to distract the knights so I can escape."

"Hey!" Brighid protested, though she knew it was hopeless.

The fourth player, a strapping Miradi by the name of Naku'ate, snickered at the unfolding battle. He'd stopped trying to win a while ago, and was now simply enjoying the contest of egos.

"So the knights arrest the seductress, and I steal the treasure. Guess it's just my lucky night," Aysel declared and threw the rest of his hand on the table. Brighid might have found his arrogant grin unbearable if not for the fact that he was clearly struggling to get through puberty.

"Bugger..." mumbled the Sheriff, taking a swig of a bottle of wine before offering it to Brighid.

"I hate this game," muttered the Seductress, believing not a word of what she said, but accepting the bottle and taking a swig anyway.

"Shall we play again?" Naku'ate suggested, his grin a string of pearls as he took the bottle and swirled the contents to gauge how long it would last. "Ah, but we'll need another bottle."

@Trevor

Twelve damn days. Twelve. Hadn't been anyone living who could stay this slippery in years. Well, other than Painted and Manylegs...but that was a different animal. Hopefully what kept 'em up wasn't what'd kept richgirl away. Still, far as hiding in plain sight went – suppose she did alright. A merchant girl in a merchant camp in some bumfuck part of nowhere. Trevor was pretty sure someone had told him the name of this place, but it was already on its way out. The kinda spot that disappears behind two drinks rubbed together.

The question still poked at his ribs as he watched them play. Why had she been so difficult to find? Somewhere around day five, started feeling like the search worked against him at times. Which wasn't a thing that happened. A lot of stuff was hard to find – people just weren't it.

Camps like these were pretty much drafty doors, scrap and scruff drifting in and out at all times. Wasn't that strange when a ginger showed up. He'd been asked to take a bath that first day, but far as hospitality went...wasn't all bad.

He'd been losing money he wasn't sure he had for over an hour now. Because it was funny to get fortunefucked here and there, kept a guy on his toes. But there were times when someone would point out just how shit he was, how he must be cursed with pispoor luck, or how he's pretty much giving money away. That's where his fingers would itch. Because every pot was winnable, it just wasn't every debt that was payable.

Always was a gambler that believed it was the table that was unlucky. He let 'em shorn him close to honest. So it wasn't all that strange when someone called for a bottle and he got up. No bottle on hand. Did have a skin, though.

„How about a skin?“ Shook it at the Miradi fucker whose name he knew. Always had to be careful with those guys. Liked keeping a piece of shroud on 'em at all times. Then it was all fun and jokes until someone pulled a fucking spellstone to blow the area up. And sure, Nakusomething didn't look the type, but better paranoid than dead.

Most people meant water when they offered it. Trevor just meant to strip color from their cheeks and paint off a house. Wasn't strong as Dingleberry's, but it would have to do until he had a chance to visit Plumhollow again.

"Good man, good man," Naku'ate said cheerfully and took the skin, eyebrows darting up as he brazenly tried its contents.

"Woo! Take it easy with that, my friends. That's the cobra's venom there!" he said with a full-bellied laugh before passing it along. Brighid was only brave enough to give the liquor an inquisitive sniff. She pulled a face and handed it over to the dwarf.

"Mmm..." she shrugged after having a taste. "Good kick, innit? Better'n that fruit water ye brought, Brighid." She turned back to the fire-haired beanpole before Brighid could offer a retort, a broad smirk cracking her nearly square face as stony grey eyes settled on him. She passed him back his skin of booze.

"What are ye bettin'?" she asked, as if the rest of the table didn't exist, and gathered the cards to shuffle them.

Aysel bagged his winnings and shook his head. "I've gotta get back 'ome. Pa's gonna kick my arse if I sleep through the mornin' chores again." With that, he excused himself and stumbled down the moonlit road towards the distant shadow of a cluster of farmhouses.

Naku'ate was the first to put down a few coins. After a moment of thought, Brighid matched his bet. The concept of gambling was relatively new to her, but she'd figured out enough in her brief time with this caravan to bet modestly without attracting abuse from her fellow players. Usually.

"Come on, Bridge! I know ye got the pot in yester's game. Show us some o' that loot!" Runadwynn teased.

"You sound like a tax collector. Could be a good fit for you if the weapons trade somehow doesn't work out."

Rune snorted a laugh. "Death'n taxes, lass. Least a good blade might fend off one of 'em fer a bit."

@Trevor

For all the show he made about it, Nakuguy seemed unaffected by the booze. Not a thing Trevor would miss, if they were to trade drinks, this guy likely wouldn't fold under the table quick enough. Wondered how he'd fare with stronger stuff. Had to stop at wonder, as nothing stronger was available.

„Had it stocked with Dingleberry's before an icefucker incident.“ Nodded to the dwarf woman in recognition. „Next best I could manage.“

Looked at the richgirl. The description matched. Brown on brown and short. The rest he worked out well enough on his own. Any money that came from her blood clearly didn't bleed into those clothes. Guess that was clever. Even if you were sitting with an arms dealer and a Miradi spy, it was always better to appear less significant. Made you less of a mark.

„We'll see how deep the pocket runs.“ Pulled out Rob's coinpouch. Pretty sure it had been discovered missing, grieved, Trevor forgiven, and the whole incident mostly forgotten by day seven. Wondered if he owed it to Rob to make sure he at least kept his purse the same size, if not add to it. Far as loans went – this was a pretty decent arrangement. You got to take it without contract of any kind. If you paid back with interest, great. If you lost it all – there might be rude words, but none to break your fingers and make sure you knew better come future.

Ass filled the emptied space. Fished out coins to match the Miradi.

„Right...how do you play this fucking game?“

"Icefucker incident? Sounds like a story worth drinkin' to," Rune replied hopefully before her eyes flicked to the pot in the middle of the table. She seemed to like her chances of winning; she added one and a half times what the others had.

"So, the rules be simple enough: one of ye be the Sheriff tryin' to protect the treasure, and the rest of us be scoundrels tryin' to steal it. Ye get a character card and a hand of 'bilities to use. I'll 'splain more as we play.

Seein' as I played Sheriff 'afore, Bridge gets the honors this time."

"Fine, fine." Brighid shrugged and took the deck from the dwarf to shuffle. Naku'ate shook his head with a chuckle.

"Remember when you told me how silly this game was? Laughed at me for buying it from that rambler? I said good fun is worth a few coins," he said with an ebon finger wagging at Rune.

"Pfah! Coins ye hardly made honestly to begin with," she retorted with a scoff.

Brighid wasn't paying much attention to the conversation as she dealt the cards. Maybe it was the warm, numbing embrace of all the wine she'd drunk over the course of the last match that made her surroundings blur into insignificance. Whatever the reason, the still night air brought with it a soft melody that tugged at the edges of her consciousness. She started humming in an attempt to capture the main elements of the distant tune.

She tilted her head ever-so-slightly, straining to listen to the strange music only she could hear, until the snapping of fingers in front of her face brought her out of her reverie.

"Hmm? Oh, is it my turn?"

@Trevor

„Usually problem when people can't hold their drink...“ Took a swig cause it was strong. „This one couldn't hold mine.“ And another for poor, spilled Dingleberry.

The cards fanned out on the table, each one making him more confused. What the hell was a bi ki ni? Looked like some kind of tit armor. Well if he was supposed to slip past the sheriff, it seemed that +5 to tits was helpful. Strange design tho – left plenty of place to get stabbed at undertit and overtit both. The next one simply ordered him to 'Cheat!' – now that was funny. As the loaded die got pulled up, he was openly squinted at the ceiling. It was starting to feel more like a message. He'd have given her the finger, but it would've made the other players think he was nuts – so best to keep it an internal finger. Druid fluid seemed to buff a side...a side of what? Looked a bit like pee, but that may have just been the yellowing on the cards. The final one was the boots of running really fast. Finally something he could understand.

Threw more money in to match the sassy dwarf. When people talked shit, it was sometimes easy to forget they were dangerous. He hoped to know better.

Richgirl looked completely distracted. Looked to have less idea of what was happening than Trevor...and that was saying something.

What stared her way was some kind of chest with teeth. The angle was bad, but he thought he could see it labeled as Mimic. One of those sneaky fuckers that did their best impression of a leaky bucket. You added and added, but it just poofed away. He decidedly didn't like this creature. But he could moan or do something about it.

„Pretty far out of the way for you, Naku.“ And for Richgirl too, but he wasn't supposed to know that. „What brought you all the way here?“

"My father was a merchant. My mother too. I've been moving around since I can remember. They moved to make money. I move to savor and enjoy all that life has to offer. And when you do that, it really isn't long before the roads between villaages lead to cities, which lead to ports, which lead all over the world. One day I will visit all of the major cities and have sampled their scents, sounds and flavors. Then -- maybe -- my feet will stop itching for the road.

"Also, I may have made a few social faux pas with some not-so-nice people along the way," he added with a sheepish chuckle.

Brighid was wide-eyed at Naku's tales of his adventurous life. He always made it sound like some grand romantic novel.

Rune cleared her throat to get her attention back to the game. She went back to fumbling through her cards as the sheriff and her pet mimic looked on expectantly. This time she was a swindler, which seemed to give her some power to make unfair trades with her fellow bandits. Currently she was deciding on whether to swindle Trevor out of his Bi Ki Ni or Naku out of his Spiky Boots of Arse-Kicking.

"I'm swindling you out of your boots. Enjoy your Rat on a Stick," she told Naku. He scowled melodramatically as they traded cards.

"You will rue this day," he warned. Brighid shrugged. Revenge was coming, she knew, but at least she'd given the new player a sporting chance.

Now all she had were the boots, a Rusty Vorpal Spoon, and a Really Impressive Title. Enough to beat back the sheriff's toothy furniture.

"Ah, ah, not so fast, ye knave," Rune interrupted in mid-play, setting down a card that indicated the mimic had reinforcements. "The sheriff sends 'er regards with... a wagon full o' black-clad silent swordsmen!"

Brighid groaned. She knew Naku wouldn't be helping her anytime soon, and the new guy wasn't strong enough to.

She played a Door-In-A-Flask to make her escape. The mimic and dark-clad silent swordsmen would have to wait for the next thief. A pity.

@Trevor

He nodded along to Naku's story. Might've even had things in common if Trevor dealt in more savory things. But the Miradi could never be trusted. The spice to their voice and the lull of their tales made you forget the floating fortress of shroud. They called it engineering, and sure – if you could stuff shroud into rocks and tubes, suppose that wasn't exactly weaving. Sure as shit wasn't engineering. Bottling, maybe.

The foamy streak was getting sticky on his lip, so he wiped it in a backhand. The skin got passed further.

The arms dealer stole from the spy and stuck him with a rat skewer. And there were worse things to eat. Biggest problem with rats was that they always carried something that liked to bloom into the shits or worse. Downright inconsiderate. Meat shouldn't be trying to kill you. Trevor liked to think that if someone killed him for meat, he'd be considerate enough not to try and poison them. Now having them choke on it...that was something! The riverfish had it down correct. You could spend an hour pulling out bones, but there was always another splinter to spike you right between the molars.

„I aint fighting that...“ Looked to the Richgirl who'd just potioned herself out.

„Could roll these to see if you can run away.“ Naku passed him a worn out die. Felt wrong soon as it dropped into Trevor's hand. Did the sandfucker just pass him a loaded die? Felt at it for a moment. „And you'd need a five or a six to escape. Good odds.“ Funny guy.

„Right.“ The ginger put down the bi ki ni. „I'll cover my tits and run away.“ The die rolled between his fingers. Wondered if he should play it fair and simply correct it with the card when the roll inevitably fucked him. But no, Miradi was asking for it.

As the roll left his hand, he could feel its desire to land a three or four. Clever, really. Weighing ones and twos led to marks sometimes rolling fives and sixes – bad business, that. Didn't even need much of a nudge. Dies liked fucking people over. Was in their nature, a square thing rolling like a ball. Nothing was ever what it was meant to be.

Six.

„I duck out as well.“ Looked to the die that had forgotten how to roll under a five and made sure the tiny thing remembered its job. Picked it up to pass to Naku.

„You fighting or running?“ Gave the spy the die that could no longer lose. If he was the cheater Trevor suspected him to be, he would never roll it. And there was some justice in that.

"I think I'll live to loot another day," said Naku, taking the die with a smug grin that hid his curiosity about the unexpected outcome of Trevor's roll. He must have handed off the wrong die. It saved him the effort of switching them again, he supposed.

"Come on, come on, don't fail me now!" He feigned a touch of desperation as he cupped the die between his hands and shook them like a priest trying to shake a gambler's sin out.

He frowned as his winning die (or so he had assumed) suddenly rebelled by rolling a two. As far as anyone could say he was ever sincere about anything, he was at this moment sincerely confused.

The dwarf, who had been helping herself to the offered skin of booze, handed it to Naku with a big grin across her face, eyebrows knitting together as if to say yer gonna need this.

"Looken like I won't have ta feed me mimic tonight. Just pick yer belongin's outta its teeth."

Naku narrowed his eyes at the cards in his hand in contemplation while taking a swig out of the skin.

"A thousand curses upon you, woman!" he hissed at the dwarf before picking out a card with a baleful, jeering smirk. "Starting with this one."

He set down a card bearing an image of frogs falling from the sky. A cursed rain of frogs had been loosed upon the sheriff and her underlings!

Unfortunately, the frogs and their damned sticky tongues stole one item from each player. Naku may have saved his skin, but he'd lost his emergency food-slash-weapon. Brighid sacrified her rusty spoon. Rune threw a Potion of Honey Badger Venom into the discard pile with a huff.

The sheriff's disappointment only grew as she discovered the next monster guarding her treasure vault: a potted ficus. It would take a great amount of effort to sabotage her round, and even Rune seemed uninterested in such an investment.

"What about you? Going to curse me or anything?" she asked Trevor with a wry chuckle.

@Trevor

He looked as Naku grabbed the dice undisturbed. There were men who could fool you even as you looked closely. Sleight of hand was a far lesser problem than the handless kind. But he didn't feel anyone meddle. The spy rolled the traitor die and...got himself chomped?

That was...hm...

Come to think of it – that was the best way to pull attention off yourself. Just make yourself bad at the game. People always liked losers at card tables. Because it was all fun once you'd given up the games. So long as the losers weren't upset, they really were the best company. Trevor was seldom clever enough to pull off such a con – but, luckily, the world was populated with some better men.

But the spy didn't die. Produced a frograin from somewhere. They were always good at not dying. And perhaps it was better that way – at least you knew who to watch out for when time came for round two. Perhaps he would like this game if he understood it better. It was just a wheel of getting fucked. No matter how you spun it, someone was getting the short end of it. Fitting, really.

Trevor nodded as he kept the titarmor and threw away the loaded die. They were all loaded in his hands, after all. Never needed a piece of paper to speak for him.

His eyebrow shot up as he looked at the unfortunate plant. If he understood the rules well enough, he could smack the silly potter without playing a card. Titarmor and druid pee only made him more confident. But if he won too quickly, no one would be drunk enough. If he lost from this position, someone would call him on his bullshit. No one was that shit at the game.

„Wouldn't dream of it.“ Nodded to the underwhelming guardian. „You're cursed enough already.“ He put all face up on the table. „Don't think I need any of these...“ Took a swig from the skin as the druidpee left his hand. It was important to keep fluids in balance.

„So what happens when I smack the little leafer?“

Brighid leaned forward to squint at the faded words on the card. "'If you defeat this malicious shrubbery you get one piece of treasure'."

The other players sat back in their chairs to quietly sort and scrutinize their cards. Even Rune seemed to think the odds were against her meddling; she shrugged and decided to let this piece of loot go. Plus the plant would ostensibly have an odor of druid urine to it now and have to be put outside. (No self-respecting dwarf, even in a make-believe card game universe, would have their halls smelling like anything reminescent of cats. Or trees.)

So the game would continue for a good while. Alliances and rivalries formed in the shared pursuit of treasure, while the dishonorable sheriff sent every creature in her weird menagerie against them. They had already faced down a Poultry-geist (which made for a delicious, if not slightly ectoplasmic, chicken fry), a Gelatinous Dude, and a Swarm of Mutant Kippers (Which may have been delicious if not for the extra teeth).

Now Rune was down to a few scant remaining cards, and somewhat taken aback by the fact that she hadn't been able to kill anybody this game. Much to her annoyance, everyone was actually doing quite well. Naku was in the lead, with Trevor just behind. Brighid was last, but only just.

That was about to change, one way or the other. This was a moment of great risk, great reward; The Horror From Just Beyond That Spot Over There glowered at Brighid through its many eyes. She could steal three treasures if she defeated this monster, but if she failed... the game was over for her.

She frowned in concentration as she looked between the monster card and her hand, doing some mental math. Even with her own small hoard of items and potions, she was no match for it by herself.

"Anyone want to help me kill this thing for one treasure?"

Her gaze shifted between Trevor and Naku. She was certain she could beat it with Naku's help, but she really didn't want him to win.

@Trevor

„How about it, Naku?“ Trevor nodded to the clusterfuck forming on the table. He didn't like the idea of the spy winning after he'd tried to pull a con on him – but even a win, didn't make all winners equal.
„We gut the thing and then roll for the treasure?“ It was only worth scamming people out of things worth taking. Back when the Miradi bastard wanted Trevor offed, the ginger had fuckall. This made more sense – by making the mark on the hook for something, you made the game more interesting.

A better showman might've hit the table or made his word slurred in invitation. Trevor was buzzed enough to worry he wouldn't be convincing, but not buzzed enough for the authentic, clumsy flourish.

„This day could see us as allies.“ He hummed in consideration. „But we roll this die.“ He pointed to the one they'd already used. „To keep us all honest.“ He doubletapped the table as Trevor could feel...someone fucking with the balance.

„Agreed.“ Trevor nodded back. „We win this one and then have a sidegame of our own.“ It all seemed reasonable enough. „Right, I can make the guy smaller, and you twonk him to make up the difference?“

„Sounds like a plan.“

Trevor played a potion of deminu-demini-diminu-making shit really small, confident that with another five or so in power they could smoke the monster.

But it never came.

Naku simply dropped down some sort of a bush rolling over an empty street and was gone from the encounter. Didn't matter, Trevor could still make it out if he rolled high enough. Would be especially funny as he did it with Naku's cheating die.

„That was mean, Naku.“ But, honestly, it was kind of impressive. Didn't suspect a hint of malice prior to getting fucked. „Right, let's try and salvage this.“

He rolled and wasn't surprised to look at a six.

But then Naku played it. The same Cheat! he'd discarded earlier.

When did he...?

He hadn't even seen the Miradi fucker touch the card, so how did he get it in his hand?

Right, that was him fucked. Satya knew what the girl was gonna do. He would've clapped at the foreign fucker's skill, but the guy was smug enough already.

"Naku!" Brighid's head sank into her hands with a groan of annoyance. Somewhere distantly, a tiny bell rattled an agonizingly cheerful tinkle-tink.

The Moradi just shrugged innocently.

So Trevor was at the mercy of the miniaturized Horror, and she was back to square one. It was not a very nice square to be in at all. Being the last player to flee from this monster put her at a bit of a disadvantage; according to the card, she would have to roll a six to get away. If not... she and Trevor would obstensibly die of sheer terror (or possibly just embarrassment).

"Ain't nothin' ta do now but run with yer tail 'tween yer legs." Rune chuckled and eyed the pile of loot with renewed enthusiasm. Taking down two players in one turn was a fine time for her.

Tinkle-tink.

She hummed a lop-sided sort of tune, partly in intense thought, partly in frustration. Usually she had just a touch of luck - but for reasons she didn't understand, it didn't extend to situations like this. Gamblers' luck was just its own sort of creature, she supposed.

Oh...! But what she did have at her disposal was Swindler's Luck. She could add a dice roll to her attack by discarding a card. With Trevor's previous resizing of the Horror still in play, she might just have a chance.

She grabbed the weighted dice without a clue to its true nature and smirked at the dwarf.

"Not tonight, Sheriff."

Tinkle-tinkle-tink! The sound was so close, so odd, that it nearly caught their attention this time.

The cursed die twisted and turned in the air as it left Brighid's hand, but she was no longer looking at it. Instead she was staring, mouth agape, at the table shuddering and flipping sideways to catapult all of the cards and loot onto the ground amid a tangle of snarling, hissing fur.

"Fookin' mangy cats!!!" Runadwynn yelled and tried to kick apart the two fighting alleycats with her boot. The felines scattered, one of them echoing a sharp tinkle-tink up the dirt street from a bell on its collar as it fled. Brighid thought she saw the die in the dirt at her feet between the scattering of cards and coins, glaring up at her like a cyclops in the light of the caravan's lamps.

Maybe it was best not to think too much on the nature of luck.

@Trevor

Richgirl was mid making a play he was yet to catch on when the cats came. A whirlwind of meow and hiss, knocking everything over. Flipping the table. Convenient.

Suppose it was a good way to win an unwinnable hand – just make sure the game ends before it was your turn to eat the loss. Lucky. Especially since it helped him too. Only thing was... he didn't ask for any favors. And yet, the familiar disturbance was there. Someone had fucked with the balance. A familiar buzz of an offbeat melody, another thumb upon the scale. He looked to Naku...but this didn't benefit him at all. Didn't benefit the angry dwarf lady – as she had the most to gain from two of them being mince. Which left...richgirl? Couldn't be her, could it?

He looked to see the single pip staring up from the die below, and his foot was quick to cover it. Cause Naku could suck it. He'd won enough for a single day, no reason to show him he was winning the second bout as well.

He looked to the girl, accusingly, unsure how to say it without sounding nuts. But he wasn't this sure someone else was fucking with the balance since Jez the Unsinkable, couple years back...and boy, was that a letdown.

He pulled on the skin again, unsurprised he'd grabbed it in the commotion.

„Guess we call that a draw.“ Only the finest of his shiteating grins for Naku.

His brow went up as he looked back to the girl.

„Lucky, huh?“