"Come on Rook, I have a family to feed..."

"And feed them you shall. Just not with this coin, friend." Rook kept his smile neutral and disarming as he slipped a few small silver coins into his moneypouch. "Hell, if I'd known you were feeding that sweet daughter of yours lumps of silver, Id have come sooner."

The pudgy, weather-worn man frowned, confused. "No, I use the coin to bu-"

"I [i]know[/i] what you use coin for, good man." His grin widened to something that could only be described as cocksure. "If there's anything I know well, its that. Now, Matthis my good citizen, are you going to bail on me early, or are we going to go another round?"

The back of the Galvanizing Spirit was a raucous affair, at least, as raucous as a small place like Merryspring could get. Men and women alike sat around sturdy oaken tables and benches, sloshing amber and dark ales from heavy mugs and recalling the events of the day. Rook had positioned himself near the hearth early in the evening, and had since been handily redistributing the town's wealth in his favor. Despite losing good coin, no resident could accuse the man of cheating - part of his bombastic dice-rolling ritual included handing them to the would-be player for this very purpose, to examine as closely as could be desired. It didnt mean that he was universally loved, however; some of the more superstitious townsfolk took the man's good luck as an ill omen - either he was something devilish given flesh, or the gods were surely ready to ruin him on a moment's notice.

Matthis sighed and sized Rook up. After a moment he puffed his chest out, determined. "Alright Rook, one more. Five silvers on evens."

Rook's eyes lit up as he began to twist and maneuver two small, tan dice between his fingers. To anyone who asked, they were always carved of something different - today it was ogre's teeth, some days its dragonbone, still others the dice are simply marble. In reality, Rook had no idea what they were made out of, and like anything else in his life, the mystery just served his wild stories far better than a real explanation ever could.

"And we have fiiiiive silvers on evens! Now as always, here are the dice...." Rook's smile could split his skull if he didnt watch it.

"Just roll them."

Producing a small wooden cup with his other hand, he showed the dice around the crowd one last time before throwing them in the cup, placing his hand over the opening, and shaking. "Evens, evens for this poor broke sod, eeeeveeeeensss...." He shut his eyes in mock prayer. "Lady luck be kind!" He announced loudly, removing his hand and pouring the dice across the table. For a brief moment, the noise coming from Rook's end of the inn hushed as most spectators held their breath. "...Maybe you should stick to farming, friend."

Odds.

The outcry was muffled somewhat by the sound of someone striding into the inn, and a brief glance told Rook that his fun was over. As it was, he had been traveling with Thaddeus, but he decided he would be more useful riding ahead of the man and ingratiating himself with the locals; peasants in these communities could be somewhat xenophobic, and he didnt reckon that they would know too much about the Watchful. Walking around and using fancy titles and gods-given authority is nice and all, but it hardly inspires the ignorant to your cause. 

"Lost! Again! Nanette is going to kill me..." Matthis seemed to sink into his drink as the rest laughed it off or eyed Rook with a measure of fear and suspicion. 

"The gods are fickle, my man. One day these dice will turn against me, and then its game over. However today...." And without another word, he scooped his newest 'earnings' into his money pouch, adjusted his bright scarlet headscarf, and sauntered over to the other side of the inn, where he could pull up a chair and join Thaddeus.