[center][h2][color=green]Beyr[/color][color=orange]e - An Introduction[/color][/h2][/center]
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	My name is Remundu Costa, supposedly named after the mythical figure Remundu the Humble from the tale of Lady Luck -- Beyre of Chance; however, I do not write to you to simply tell you who I am, for I’m sure you well know -- but rather describe to you my happenstance encounter at the ‘Cantu with the White Roof,’ which was an up and coming pub at the time I penned this.

	Now I heard about it the same as any other Red City dweller: slightly buzzed and easily excitable while partaking at another Cantu. The word came quick about it, especially since it was supposedly won by an eccentric woman in a game of chance... whatever that game was, changed with each story. My favorite version (and perhaps the most extravagantly exaggerated) featured a game completely unheard of, where the old owner was challenged to shoot -- yes, shoot -- this newcomer in the face with a pistol, but should he miss or the gun misfire... well you get the rest I’m sure. As it would happen, the gun misfired not once, not twice, but thrice! Needless to say whatever the initial bet was, it had eventually surmounted to the man’s very establishment and no sooner than he had placed it as a wager did this woman take it from under him. Pardon my manners, this woman does in fact have a name; she indeed has a funny name to match her funny nature, Nellie the Red. 

	Right! So there I was walking the streets of the city after a rarity of rain that nearly saw my hobnailed boots slipping this way and that, trying to find the Cantu with the White Roof. I was drawn to the idea of it, perhaps by the stories -- or the thought of meeting Nellie the Red. To be honest, I think the largest factor was that this Cantu was said to be the luckiest place in the city and no sooner than the change in ownership did the dice games there quadruple in wager and payout, making and breaking various big names and small just the same. 

	Careful where I step, I made my way with a few silver coins in my belt pouch. The smile on my face probably gave my intentions away if my hands playing with the fattened pocket didn’t, but I didn’t care. As luck would have it, that musky smell of rain drying on the city pavement was one I held dear as a memory, and a good day always followed such a rain. 

	In my bliss I fell to a stop in front of a rouge red bricked cantu, the round structure sporting a blazingly white roof that wasn’t very forgiving when the sun hit it right. I personally wondered about the gaudy nature of the building before realizing that the very thing I was judging did bring me to its front door, my hand already on the knob. 

	Swinging the door wide, I was met with a collage of smells -- from spices I’ve never smelled, to familiar scents both loved and otherwise disliked. Not able to tell whether it was the cigars or the incense that made the air the thickest, I journeyed into the establishment. 

	The second thing I was struck by was a beautifully decorated altar built into the wall by the hat stands. It was plated with gold (I presume it couldn’t possibly be solid!) and bejeweled with the quaintest yet flattest cut ruby I ever saw. The whole altar itself was the size of a breadbox without a hatch and in the center of this golden carriage was a bowl of pure white clay from a far off land. I wish I could say it was small, but this bowl was deep and filled with coins of so many currencies I hadn’t a chance to notice them all. Immediately I recognized this set up as a tiny shrine to Lady Luck herself, and not being a stickler, I tossed a silver right into the bowl. 

	“Thank you!” A sweet, almost syrupy voice bubbled behind me. Turning, I met the owner -- and I really mean the owner! There stood a woman who matched the description of Nellie the Red. She had these striking green eyes that stood out on the usual tanned complexion of the city. Much to her namesake, her hair was a flow of dark red, matching her just as red puffed trousers. Over the most noticeable, she wore a long white poncho with black shapes stitched across it and red tassel hanging from it. 

Her smile wasn’t as genuine as her words sounded, and I could have sworn there may have been a slight grimace, as if it were forced. I cautiously smiled back, and normally mine would be genuine in itself at such a fetching image but the sudden silence between us gave me nerves. “You’re most welcome?” 

I had never seen such a thing before, but before my words could even finish, Nellie had reached past me to grab the very bowl of Beyre as if to go empty it! I suppose someone had to at some point, but so brazenly had me thrown. 

“My name is Remundo.” I decided to study this entrepreneur. Her eyes flicked back over to me in a way that reminded me of a cat to a mouse. She had a sharp mind, I could tell, and suddenly I had no doubt that she was able to swindle an entire building from a careless man.

“I am Nellie the Red.” She stood up extremely straight at her own name, giving me the chance to notice that she was over a head shorter than I -- to which I am no tall man to begin with. Silence again.

“Well!” I remember clapping my hands together a bit too loud. “I am here for some games!”

That smile of hers returned, though the grimace seemed lessened. Almost happily, she tilted her head to the center of the Cantu, showcasing the rows of tables and concentrated gamblers. “Pick your game and your drink, and have some fun.”

A typical response from an owner, I suppose -- but little did she know how much fun I was about to have. You see, I failed to mention this before and normally I would hardly admit it, but I’m a cheat. I know, I know, a despicable trade but I never asked for your friendship, only that you listen to my story.

Dice was my game, and my ivories were hollowed and set with lead to make a friendly game of hazard a little bit more my flavour. A little bit of forced luck kept me afloat in the city, and in a Cantu of big stakes, I wasn’t taking any real chances.

Lucky as I am, I found a seat by a fat lipped man who looked like he took one too many brawls to the head. He had a sort of stupidity in his right eye and a sense of superiority in his left -- a classic moron. He already had his coin on the table while a scrawny man of a depressive mood was on his way out - no doubt a loser.

“Hazard?” I offered simply.

“Do you know how to play?” The man acted as if he was accosted on the regular by novices.

“Somewhat,” I lied, “My Uncle recently brought me to it, you see I was visiting his estat-”

“I don’t need your life story, I just want to know if you can play!” He was grouchy.

“Ah!” I creeped a smile. “Yes, Uncle even bought me a new set.” I tossed my dice onto the table. This action put the man in a sort of broken state as he hummed at my dice cautiously.

“They won’t sing back, I assure you.” I couldn’t help myself. 

Annoyed eyes flicked up at me and I quickly alleviated the mood by tossing my silver next to my dice. Almost at once the man opened up, smug and sure. Today was my day, there was no doubt in my mind.

Remundu the Humble, that was my namesake -- I bring it up again because perhaps I should have taken the lesson after four games of big wins. My pouch was tripled and my opponent was red with shame. If I could go back, I would have left right there, but no, I sat there smug and content.

I was so proud of myself I didn’t even see my opponent sulk off to go drink his losses away and by time I looked up from my coin, I saw those sharp cat-like eyes biting at me again. Nellie had taken my broken-faced friend’s place, her fingers already batting my dice back and forth.

“A game?” I offered, like a fool.

All she could do was nod with a bit too much excitement. “But I bet big!” She warned. Again I let my pride come over me as I smiled back and said:

“I [i]only[/i] bet big.”


So my friend, there I was, sitting pretty with a massive amount of silver and my new opponent subject to my false dice -- hell! She even picked all the numbers my dice would never land on. By all accounts this should have been my luckiest day, but no matter the weight in my dice, she never lost, not once. Little by little my silver was taken from me, the sheer disbelief that my cheating rolls were useless had me betting more, hoping this was all a fluke. My silver left first, then my hat, then a few other things I shouldn’t say.

By the end of our games, I knew what I had to do, and that is why I wrote to you this letter to perhaps shed some light onto why you’re finding my room empty and your silverware gone. I am not an honest man, but I have been humbled enough to inform you that I will not be paying rent this month nor the next, nor ever, the same as you will not be getting the spoons back.

Farewell, and watch yourself at the Cantu with the White Roof!

[hider=Summary] From the perspective of a man by the name of Remundu we meet Beyre pretending to be a woman named Nellie who owns a pub/cantu named the Cantu with the White Roof. The main takeaway is that Beyre owns a Cantu in the red city under the name Nellie the Red and it is well known for it’s lucky patrons and huge stakes.[/hider]