Chao wore his armor, but left his weapons tucked away in some hole in the wall. A few knives adorned his body in hidden places, but nothing anyone could see. The hood of his cloak draped across his back and the black mask was hidden some place. His white hair braided into a piece of rope hung down the center of his back. He wore a thin mustache extending roughly three inches past his chin. The black fingerless gloves he often wore lay on the floor next to where he stood.
If there was a casino to be found in Teluval, Chao would know where to go. Sure enough, he found himself sitting at a table surrounded by others enjoying a game of chance. The seedy looking establishment was named
The Grumbler’s Chance and with his luck tonight, the second youngest son of Li and Mei felt like he had a better chance of grumbling than winning. It was a rather large establishment with no fewer than twenty gaming tables of various sorts arranged throughout the room, its floor covered in a green carpet. The walls were lit with torches and lanterns, a few candelabras or chandeliers suspended from the fifteen foot high ceiling. The smell of body odors, tobacco smoke and alcohol filled the space. The sounds of talk embraced everyone’s ears. It was more of a moderate rumble than a loud roar. It was still distracting, but Chao didn’t care, he was getting his buzz on.
His friend, Saoirse Lockwillow had the chance cubes in hand. She was the shooter and others were placing side bets including Jhang Chao. Chao watched the small blue colored cubes in the yellow table, bounce and roll their way to the far end of the table. He placed a silver piece on the number six coming up. But the dots on the cubes came up seven. Good for the shooter, bad for Chao.
Once again, Chao placed a silver piece on the table, this time number eight. The dice rolled across the table and came up four. He lost another silver, but wasn’t about to quit. He placed another silver on six and waited. The second roll was another four. Again, great for the shooter, bad for Chao. Then he decided he would place a bet of one silver on the over seven. This way if the shooter rolled over seven, he would win, seven or under, he would lose.
He took a sip of his drink, a swill someone referred to as Burgundian Ale. He waited and watched for the chance cube. It rolled across the table and came up six.
’It seems I am just a few minutes ahead of my time’, Chao thought to himself.
’Maybe I should just quit while I am ahead? He smiled at Saoirse then thought,
’Oh yea, I’m not ahead.’The Burgundian Ale was exactly delicious, but it performed admirally as an intoxicant and Jhang Chao was feeling every bit of it. His eyes were watery red and drool began to form at the corner of his mouth. He did not say a word, but if he did the words would sound slurred. He refrained from placing a bet, just to see how Saoirse did. She rolled another six and won that round too. Her next thee rolls were sevens.
’Who does that? Wins with three sevens in a row?’ Chao looked at Saoirse, smiled at her, raised his tankard of ale and nodded in congratulations.
’Oh, that’s right, Saoirse does.With a flash of a grin, Saoirse scooped her winnings. The chance cubes rattled in her cupped hands again, shaking vigorously in anticipation of the next roll. Tension was high at the table -- maybe a little too high. Three sevens in a row was kinda pushing her luck; a couple of players, especially that big Grumbler with the nose-ring, had started to squint and sneer at her with a sort of suspicion that usually ended in Saoirse's forced ejection from the establishment.
She felt she could afford to be a little bolder than most. Saoirse had an ageless, adorable look about her that tended to let her get away with nearly anything. Even those opponents who
knew she was cheating would take one look at her innocent eyes and button-nose and silently let her win anyway. The enormous goggles on her forehead served to make her look even smaller; her jacket was tied around her waist, freeing a workman's shirt and a collection of keys and a compass hanging from her neck. There were several woven string bracelets and translucent stones wrapped around her wrists, and an odd number of tarnished silver and gold earrings poked through her ears. Her deft little hands and forearms shone with smooth white scars from old burns long ago. She was sitting high on top of her backpack, forever watchful for other people's sticky fingers. Takes a thief to know a thief.
That flashy white-haired Chao guy was grinning at her again, with that dull drunk flash in his eyes, buzzed-happy though he'd been on a losing streak all night. He'd stopped betting, which was his own loss -- Saoirse had been about to throw him a win. She threw a win for the grumpy nose-ring Grumbler instead, and when his eyes lit up she was sure she was in the clear.
"Ha-ha!" Saoirse crowed, snatching up the cubes again.
"Two out of three? I'll best ya again, I --" She was cut off when the Grumbler suddenly stood, his chair clattering against the floor, and slammed his meaty hand down on the table. Silence descended on the players. He grinned slowly -- when he lifted his hand he revealed two purple chance cubes.
"Roll again," the Grumbler urged her. "But use my cubes."
Saoirse met his challenge with a pretty grin. Obviously he was onto her -- it wasn't that hard to figure out she was using trick cubes. This was a test to prove her luck wasn't luck at all.
"Ya don't trust me, hah? I see how it is. If I'm just too lucky -- if ya don't want me to roll anymore you can just say so. I can take a hint." As she spoke, Saoirse secured her winnings, pocketed her trick-cubes and shouldered her bag.
"Roll the cubes." The nose-ring Grumbler bellowed a threatening command, and Saoirse raised her eyebrows and glanced over at Chao before she addressed the Grumbler again.
"Look, man, I'm not having fun here, just lemme go home, yeah?" Her cute face distorted in distress, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She hopped down from her chair and took a step back toward the door, clutching her backpack. The Grumbler seemed only angrier at her performance.
Chao was feeling happy, but not too drunk to realize Saoirse may be in trouble. He moved behind the large Grumbler watching Saoirse move out of the establishment. When the Grumbler decided he had enough, remaining inside, Chao left the establishment to catch up with his friend.
“What was that all about?” Chao asked Saoirse wondering why she left? “It’s OK, I was losing too much silver in that place.” Chao looked up at the darkened sky, smelled the air. It had that crisp smell but various fragrances from the many establishments in the area sifted through to his nostrils, some pleasant, some not. Barbecued marinated beef made him hungry, but the raw sewage was an odor he preferred not to share.
Saoirse straightened her goggles and walked with her hands clasped behind her head.
"Guy was gettin' cranky is all," she huffed. After a few paces of staring at the sky -- the only pretty thing to be had in this upside-down city -- she grinned suddenly.
"Hey! I heard Dali might be performing at The Squished Fish tonight. Ya remember that lizard-dude from that place with the upside-down mule? And the bonfire? And the creepy-ass story?" Even while she spoke, Saoirse turned her feet toward The Squished Fish, leading the way down stairs and across bridges, to the slightly better side of town where the heady aroma of old bile wasn't quite so strong.
The Squished Fish was easily found, and Saoirse followed an automaton inside, where the blue glow and wriggling eels and trickling water released a tension that had been building in her shoulders.
"A whole lot different from the Grumbler's Gullet, huh?" She elbowed Chao with a smirk, excited to see what expensive drinks she could get the patrons to buy for her.
After a moment, she spotted a familiar lizardy tail.
"Hey," she whispered to Chao, not quite pointing.
"Isn't that him?"Chao caught up to Saoirse and was happy he just didn't have to kill the Grumbler. He hated to do it, but it seemed the more practice he had, the easier it became. But, it was better to let them live.
Saoirse rambled about Dali the Dream Painter. "Yea, that's him," Chao answered her. The large lizard-Bard appeared relaxed with his feet up on the table listening to a performer on stage who did not have the sound Chao preferred. Chao followed saoirse into the Squished Fish taking a seat with Dali at his table.
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