i_love_freddie | LJ Exhibit B Week 6: Cards on the Table

The Wandering Wench Inn was pretty much as down-market as the name made it sound. Located in one of the rougher parts of the city, it was clean but basic, provided food and drink which was simple but cheap, and medium sized rooms for low prices – if one could overlook the odd rat or two. And it provided entertainment – a fighting pit for those who wanted to prove their strength or resolve conflicts, and dancing girls in skimpy clothing for those who wanted to sit back and enjoy something more visual. Unsurprisingly it was always fairly busy and most of the patrons were a little on the shady side. The regulars included a handful of assassins, an elderly warrior who had long conversations with an imaginary animal companion, a short human merchant whom everybody ignored, and a talkative mage who always showed up wearing a funny hat.

Kane Theaza's mercenary group were another regular sight. They didn't have to stay there, they could afford better, but most of them felt uncomfortable mixing with the nobles and so they stayed away from the more expensive areas of the city. Not all of the group enjoyed such places, however. Jonas, the group wizard, flounced off to his room with his books and spell scrolls, muttering about refusing to drink with the common rabble. Valia didn't like it either – she was the only woman in the group, and there weren't many girls in the inn, and so she felt very out of place and quickly tired of the men leering at her. Riandur, the wolfman, refused to sit and socialize in human establishments, and so had left to spend the night prowling the streets. That just left the other four to amuse themselves.

Not very social at the best of times, Benny sat alone in a darkened corner with a drink, silently taking in everything that was going on around him. Here was one of the few places he could sit openly, with his hood pulled down to reveal the long scar across his cheek: this scar had earned him the nickname Scarface and the reputation of one of the deadliest assassins to walk the lands. But fame came with a price, and many wanted to see him dead, or to capture him for their own gains.

Kane was in the middle of everything, as usual. In a good mood that day, he was laughing, telling jokes, light-heartedly flirting with the dancing girls. He enjoyed such places, liked having an audience, enjoyed being respected and admired and feared.

Over in another corner, Phellan was sitting at Cory's feet, watching intently as the young assassin engaged in a game of cards with a group of scruffy-looking ruffians. Whether it was cards or dice, Cory seemed to come alive when challenged to a game. His shyness and inexperience melted away, and his fast hand and quick mind made him a force to be reckoned with. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, his hand steady as he dealt another hand of cards. Beside him, Phellan was dying to ask questions but he knew not to speak when other people were near. Cory had promised the young wolfman that if he stayed silent during the game, later on they would play cards together.

“Three aces,” Cory flipped his cards over and smiled at the three men sitting opposite him. “I believe that makes me the winner.” He reached over to take the bag of money from the centre of the table, but one of the men – a large tattooed thug with a shaven head – grabbed his hand first.

“I don't think that's very fair, kid,” he said in a low, menacing voice. “What if we don't want to pay?”

“You bet me twenty silvers that I couldn't beat all three of you,” the half elf explained patiently. “I beat all of you, fair and square. You want to be a bad loser? That's not my problem.”

“Is that an insult I hear? Let go of the money, we are not paying you any - ” He broke off and gave a cry of pain, because Phellan had darted under the table and bitten his foot – hard! Cory jerked his hand free and the small bag of money disappeared into one of his many pockets.

“Your mangy wolf bit me!” Furious now, the thug advanced on them, followed closely by his two friends. “I swear, I'll rip you both apart with my bare hands...”

“Indeed.” Suddenly Benny materialised in the shadows behind them, making them jump. “I would think twice about that, were I you,” he said in his measured, yet frightening voice. “Might have negative consequences for you.”

“Is there a problem?” Kane stepped up behind Cory, fixing the thugs with a strong gaze. “Surely you aren't refusing to honour a bet, for a challenge that you suggested in the first place? What kind of man does that?”

“No... I was just...” the thug looked from Cory, to Benny, to Kane. It was too much for him, way out of his league of mugging people for a few coins. He turned tail and fled, knocking over a table and some chairs in his haste to get away. One of his friends followed him, the other sat down at a nearby table and tried to look completely innocent.

“Well, he was a coward,” Kane shook his head in disgust. “Shame, a bar fight would have really livened up the evening.” He ruffled Cory's hair, grinned at Benny and walked back to the bar.

Benny laughed softly and shook his head. It was just a standard evening for them, nothing surprised him any more. Returning to his drink, he left Cory and Phellan alone.

Cory picked up the cards that had been knocked off the table during the small dispute. “Come on then, Phellan,” he said quietly. “I'll teach you some card tricks.”