[color=FF8C00][h1][center] Renard Sournois[/center][/h1][/color]
[center]Hargeon[/center]
[center]Interacting with:[@Leslie Hall][/center]

The trip to the gambling hall was a rather pleasant one. Tristan is defenitly great company to have, talkative and not someone to shy away from asking personal questions. Having Tristan around make the walk up to the gambling hall much more fun. Both Renard and the bard had much more in common than they would have guessed at first sight.

The journey to the gambling hall took both wizards through what most would call the bad part of town. Worn out buildings,  littered across the streets and the locals weary of outsiders. This part of Hargeon looked familiar to Renard. The young wizard himself had grown up in one of the lesser neighborhoods of Magnolia and knew the workings of the underclass. Renard was perfectly aware of the struggles these fellows had to go through on a daily basis and how their worldview was. If it wasn’t for his magic, the young wizard himself might have ended up like the fellow with the butterfly knife, although of less intimidating posture.

Just as their destination became in sight Tristan suddenly dragged the young wizard into some dark alley. [color=FF8C00]“Hey, you might want to refrain from dragging young boys into dark alleys in public. Especially when you’re going to ask them to get into your shirt. It makes you look a little bit creepy”[/color] Said Renard with a big smile. He was confident that the bard meant no harm to him and the opportunity was to good not to make a joke about the somewhat awkward situation. But Tristan was right. The big scary dude in front of the door wasn’t there for show. You could bet that lots of his gang buddies would be inside, keeping an eye on their clientele or simply having a good time. Not to mention that such establishments as these where more often than not ‘adults only’. Renard’s small size and generally young appearance would make him stand out way to much in the crowd. [color=FF8C00]“You’re right, I would attract too much attention in there. Luckily I am a natural when it comes to low profiles”[/color] Said the young wizard as he transformed himself back into a mouse and made its way up Tristan’s pants before getting comfortable in one of his shirts pockets.

The confined darkness of Tristan’s pocket did not bother Renard, in his mouse form his eyesight was remarkably poor anyway. However no sight, feeling or smell went unnoticed and it wasn’t for long before the young picked up the rather unpleasant odor of the buffoon at the front door. The stench of sweat and an unwashed mouth was rather penetrating. Without doubt the lad was standing for a while in the sun guarding the door. He definitely was not standing there for hospitality. The contraction of muscles and the screeching of bones combined with the fact that the bard wasn’t flying gave way that the brute was letting them in to the underground establishment.

The sounds of laughter, chatting and all kinds of gambling machines was overwhelming for the mouse sensitive ears. It took Renard a few seconds to focus his senses before he noticed a strange unpleasant feeling. As if there was some sort of unknown, sinister form of magic at play. It almost felt like there was some kind of spell cast on this place. [color=FF8C00]“Do you feel that Tristan?”[/color] Whispered Renard from inside the Bard’s pocket. [color=FF8C00]“It’s really strange but I suddenly feel in the mood to gamble and I never even considered to gamble in my entire life. I wished I had brought my savings. I could make so much money.”[/color]