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.
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.