• Mature • All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

Sabine

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
Vakhanor
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

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Arc 716, Ymiden 17

Returned to his local pub, Vakhanor felt like he was spending a lot of time at the establishment lately. It was a good place to drown your sorrows and interact with others, but the figures he had met there were not the usual crowd and among other things they were all women. Nivasi had been pleasant to hang out with, albeit the fact that he had been more drunk than he originally intended and possibly a little to bold for her comfort zone, he had hoped that she wasn't too dissuaded by his company.

Exchanging intense stares, Vakhanor sat around a table with six men, all masked with jaded preconceptions built upon the foundation that they could try to read one another. Each hand was a stage, spotlighting deception as if something were to be valued in doing it, a habit Vakhanor rarely indulged in. Sat among these men the smith paid little attention to the barbed smiles sitting across the way from him and tried to figure out whether he could win or not. He sucked at gambling and he was losing.

The stakes were raising, the table had started out small and were slowly getting higher. There was over a hundred and twenty gold nel on that table all together currently, twenty gold nel for each player and Vakhanor wasn't sure that he was going to raise the stakes any more. "Gimme a card mate," he requested from the dealer who loomed over the table with an empathetic smile. The rookie at the table, Vakhanor watched the soured faces eyes him cautiously. Due to his lack of understanding of the game, Vakh's hands were generally unpredictable and he wasn't always being appropriately cautious of what he was putting in. The card was a six. Uncertain of what to do at this stage the smith had slowly and gradually come to grips with the game, the idea was to try and count the cards in the deck to figure out what hands were coming up. After you had figured that out you could figure out what the other player might have in relation to your own hand, if you had a good hand and you raised the stakes high enough the weaker hands were likely to fold so you could cancel the others out. Vakhanor had not been counting.

Clueless to what cards were currently in the deck the smith was at a disadvantage and was reluctant to carry on raising the pool "Fold," he said, throwing the cards down onto table with a wide grin. Turning to eye him a sense of uneasiness drafted around the table, Vakhanor was a wild card.
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Sabine
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

“I don’t get it.” Sabine crossed her arms and stared skeptically at the seven men clustered around the card table. “Seriously, Will. Tell me how this works, again?”

“I can’t believe you’ve been alive for twenty-three arcs and have never learned the rules of poker.”

She shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “It just always seemed so complicated.” One of the players, a redhead, requested a card from the dealer. Sabine took a sip of beer and gestured to the man. “And this isn’t exactly providing me wrong. Like, why is he asking for a card? How many cards does he get? What are they even betting on?”

“Easy on the questions, girl,” Willow said. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “I think you’re the one over-complicating things. I promise it’s not that hard.”

The two women stood near the edge of the cards table - close enough to observe, but not so close that the players would grow concerned about cheating. They each held a full mug of beer, and they each spoke a touch too loudly thanks to the two earlier beers that were laying waste to their sobriety.

Sabine shifted uncomfortably and pressed the cool glass against her flushed cheeks. Despite wearing a sleeveless white blouse and pulling her hair back in a messy plait, a sheen of perspiration dotted Sabine’s forehead. The heat from the tavern’s patrons and the Ymiden evening was overbearing, and she silently cursed The Blacksmith Arms for not having more windows.

Although, to be fair, her ill-considered choice of leather pants and ankle boots may have been a bigger contributing factor.

…better than one of those damn corsets.

“Okay,” Willow began. “Remember when I said that the point of the game is to have the highest-valued hand?”

“Nope.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s the point. You want to have the highest hand so you can take the pot of nel at the end.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, I figured you would. So, there are different hands that you can have. For example, one pair means you have two cards of the same value. Like two nines. A full house is when you have three of one value and two of another, like three nines and two Queens. A straight flush-“

Sabine groaned and placed her free hand on her friend's arm to cut her off. “Will, I change my mind. I’ve already had too much to drink to remember any of this.”

“Lightweight.” Willow raised an eyebrow playfully. “How ‘bout we make our own bets instead? I’ll bet you five gold nel that the blonde – the big guy with the beard - will win.”

Sabine’s interest piqued, and she surveyed the table. Once again, her gaze landed on the redhead. He had just thrown his cards on the table and was giving his opponents a lazy grin. She didn’t quite understand the difference between folding and calling and raising, but the man seemed confident enough. It also helped that the others were looking at him with an uneasiness that bordered on worried.

“All right,” she agreed. “Then I bet five gold nel on the redhead winning.” Willow might have understood how to play the game, but Sabine liked to think she had a better eye for reading people.

She narrowed her eyes at the redhead and sent him a silent message of encouragement: Don’t fuck this up.
Last edited by Sabine on Sun Jul 31, 2016 10:41 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 589
Vakhanor
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

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A poor choice to bet on, Vakhanor lost the game along with a couple of gold nel. At this point in the game it was probably best that he pulled out. Feeling as if he were being watched Vakhanor was met by the hopeful stare of a woman standing a few paces away from the table, watching the game with her friend.

Games like these often caught the attraction of women, if it was because of the money or whether they liked crowding around with a group of sinister looking men was beyond fathomable to Vakhanor and he wondered if it did them any favours. "Hey, do you wanna play for me?" he asked, signalling her toward him with a large smile. He was here to have fun and she appeared to be interested in the game "I'm not any good, maybe you'll be better."

Excited glances ran around the table as the men realised that Vakhanor really was just there to have a good time rather than play a serious game, as much as it was helpful it was also a danger to them. New players were unpredictable, easy enough to counter if you had a professional at the table and they had a few. The only downside to that was they had to focus on making sure Vakhanor had missed the card count.

"Playing with the ladies eh?" interjected one of the men with a sly smile. He was a well dressed gentleman with a well groomed black beard and a face that would have made you think he was a politician. For what Vakhanor knew of these lots he might have been, it was of little consequence to him "Why not grab a whore? they'd be easier."

"I've never fucked a whore," the smith retorted eliciting another round of strange looks.

"Any reason?" another one of the more sly looking individuals asked, throwing chips on to the table.

"Don't like the idea of giving my body to a woman who wants my money to sit on my dick," he replied in a casual tone, hoping that she wouldn't be too dissuaded by the conversation.

"Ah. You embarrassed little Jacadon?" the sly looking figure spoke again with a smile like barbed metal. Over the course of the game Vakhanor had got more and more annoyed with this man, he was thin, meagre and had looked as if he'd took a knife to a merchant.

Silence fell for but a moment and the smith picked up his cards, the corners of his mouth lifting as he ignored the man and his ocean coloured hues returned to the brunette "I've nothing to prove. Excuse these men my lady, they've lost their manners. Would you care to play with or against me?" he offered in his most polite tone of voice, taught to him by his father during his time in Sirothelle. Vakhanor's knowledge of how to be polite was one of his best kept secrets to most, he very rarely cared to be polite to another unless he was either forced to or circumstance raised that it would put him in better stead.
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Sabine
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

“I’m looking forward to collecting that nel,” Willow teased.

“Wait, what?” Sabine scanned the table in a frantic attempt to divine the results of the round. “What just happened?”

“Your man lost.”

“Damn it!” She scowled and drank deeply from her mug. Was it her? Had she been unclear? Perhaps she needed a new tactic, a new way to communicate don’t fuck this up to the redhead.

She narrowed her eyes and stared at him harder.

Willow nudged her shoulder. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Shush,” Sabine said. “I’m concentrating.”

“Right…”

Her efforts were soon rewarded with a look of acknowledgement from the redhead and an invitation to join him at the table. Only, his invitation didn’t exactly inspire faith in her likelihood of winning the bet.

“It’s just my luck he’s not any good…” Sabine grumbled to her companion.

Willow’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“Oh, shut up.” She took another sip of beer and rallied, searching for a way to save both the bet and her ego. Maybe, with a bit of confidence, he would discover his untapped potential as a poker player. And what inspired confidence in men more than a woman’s belief in their abilities?

Sabine, thoroughly convinced of her own inspired logic, plastered her most charming smile on her face and strode toward the redhead with a sway of her hips and a brazenness that would make a virgin blush. “Better than you?” Her mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “I’m not sure that’s possible-”

She broke off as one of the redhead’s opponents, a well-groomed man with a striking black beard, interjected with a lewd comment about whores. Sabine, irritated by the interruption, shot the man a glare before she could stop herself. Her annoyance seemed to go unnoticed, however, and she took a moment to compose herself before joining the redhead at the table in time to hear him proclaim that he had never fucked a whore.

Riiiight. And the king doesn’t sit on a throne.

That’s a lie,” Willow muttered, eliciting a choked laugh from Sabine.

She stepped just behind the redhead’s chair so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye if he chose to look. If he didn’t flinch away, she would trace her right hand lightly along his shoulder when he turned his attention back to her. “I’m not bothered. Say… how ‘bout I be your good luck charm?” Sabine suggested. She glanced up at the table, oblivious to the tension, and smiled widely. “That is, if you boys don’t mind?”

The reactions from around the table differed, depending on their estimations of the redhead’s abilities and Sabine’s intoxication. There was some grumbling until the well-groomed man gestured to Willow. “Will your friend be joining us too?”

“Willow?”

Willow raised her eyebrows in amusement. “I don’t see why not. I’ll be…” She looked around the table as if the choice was difficult. “…his good luck charm.” Willow pointed to the blonde man she’d originally placed a bet on and winked at Sabine.

“Fine by me,” Sabine replied. She glanced down at the redhead. “What do you say, handsome?” If he agreed to the arrangement, she would pat him on the shoulder triumphantly and begin to formulate what she imagined to be more confidence-boosting compliments.

“May the best pair win!” Willow called out, much to the delight of her blonde partner.

Sabine grinned. “Oh, we will.”

Now this was what she called good, uncomplicated fun.
Last edited by Sabine on Thu Nov 16, 2017 10:27 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 603
Vakhanor
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

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Rebuked through mockery Vakhanor returned Sabine's gaze with a deadpan stare, void of pleasant emotion. The half-blood was accustomed to others making fun of him and knew when he wasn't making an impression on someone, unlike in Sirothelle however the people of Rynmere usually weren't bold enough to start a fight. That was what he thought at least until he could feel the chilling sensation of the woman's smooth fingertips lightly stroking his back "Don't," he warned, wrapping his rugged hand around her wrist, forcing her to a halt "Your compliments, much like your touch are unnecessary. The company is enough."

For all of her efforts the soft words of 'confidence' had made the smith uncomfortable, he couldn't help but understand that she was trying to use him to achieve a means to an end. What that means was the smith was uncertain, but he'd never trusted people as far as he could throw them. A woman with an object for lust was no better trusted than a thief posing as a beggar.

"Come on Vakhanor," the dark haired man spoke out with a keen bright eyed smile as he fawned over the woman at his side "or are you going to stick to your prudish ways?"

Meeting the other man eye to eye Vakhanor shifted his gaze to study Sabine again, not even admiring her beauty as his ocean coloured eyes narrowed thick with antipathy for the situation that he was in. "Fine," he caved, folding an arm around Sabine's waist to invite her into his lap where he could see her, "Quit the talking though. It's like you’re a ghost creeping over me and I'm struggling to count as it is." Neither a great mathematician, nor a great liar there was the faint sense of a flush in the smith's cheeks. She was too close and Vakh hated being seen as inept at the best of times. Almost six arcs had passed since he had could casually play in places like this, it had been so long since the Aukari had relaxed that he'd forgotten how to.
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Sabine
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

Except “uncomplicated” quickly became complicated when the man she’d targeted refused to play along. Though the man spoke of her company, his tone made it clear that she was anything but welcome. He was side-eyeing her like she was some unwelcome whore from a brothel he'd frequented. Immortals, she wasn’t trying to sleep with the man. Was it so entirely impossible for him to imagine that her ulterior motives were about taking her friend’s money, not tearing off his clothes?

Her eyes narrowed as he wrapped a calloused hand around her wrist to still her movement, and she bit her tongue to keep from telling him off. Dealing with this man was sobering her up faster than being dunked in a bucket of ice water. Sabine stared heatedly across the table at her friend, who only raised a smug eyebrow before moving to stand behind the blonde-haired man and placing a confident hand on his shoulder.

Damn it, Willow.

It was getting harder and harder to keep that false smile on her face.

In response to being called a prude – a title that Sabine was not so sure he deserved – the man, Vakhanor, dropped his arm around his face and pulled her into his lap. Sabine shot a glance at ceiling, as if she could summon Ilaren for vengeance, and curled her hands tightly around the fabric of her white blouse.

“You’re struggling to count as it is?” she repeated, blatantly ignoring his first command. Hell, even she had to admit that the man was turning out to be a bad bet. She may not have known anything about poker, but at least she knew that, regardless of the game, you should never let your opponent know if you didn’t know what you were doing.

That was, like, Strategy 101.

“All right,” she continued lamely, trying desperately to keep the light-hearted tone to her voice. “Well, just… do your best. You’ve… got this. Knock ‘em dead.”

Willow snorted.

The game began again, and Sabine soon found herself unable to hide her misery as her partner continued to lose each successive round. Her face morphed from seductively supportive to desperately hopeful, until, finally, she gave up. Time dragged on, as if Ralaith himself was mocking her poor choice, and a series of long resigned sighs and groans left her lungs. There was little she could do to help Vakhanor other than remain seated, and even that became a challenge. When his last poker chip was bet and his hand folded, she leapt from his lap and stalked off towards the bar, leaving behind the hoots and hollers of the men left at the table.

Fucking poker.

Fucking Willow...

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Reviewer's Note: -5gn for losing the bet, -9sn for 3 mugs of beer.
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All Work No Play Makes Vakh A Dull Boy

Sabine

Overview

I can not believe Sabine didn't know how to play poker!? Well, how I chuckled reading this thread - she held her temper about as well as it was possible for her to do and she handled being man-handled very well indeed. I love how she bit her tongue till the end and your description of her huffing and puffing in despair was great! Her swaying hips and seductive smile didn't bring her luck, in the end. A shame the thread ended so abruptly, but great fun!

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XP: 15

Fame: +3 (generally being seen around etc)

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Thank you for updating your ledger!

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Gambling: How To Play Poker
Gambling: Confidence Doesn’t Equal Skill
Persuasion: A Charming Smile
Persuasion: Use Confidence-Boosting Compliments To Encourage
Seduction: Sway Your Hips
Seduction: Use False Naiveté
Seduction: The Power of Touch
Tactics: Never Let Your Opponent Know Of Your Ignorance

Other Knowledge:
NPC: Willow
PC: Vakhanor
Vakhanor If you should come back to the pc and want your part of this review, please just put your half of the request up in the request thread and we'll get to it in turn. Thanks!
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