9th of Ashan 722
Eve smirked as she wound her arm through Woe's as he walked down the street from his newly acquired house. They were conversing in Vahanic, as was their custom when alone together. "I knew you couldn't resist cleansing your palate."
Woe frowned, staring ahead at where he was going. "That's not what this is about. What follows is about business, strictly, and the welfare of Egilrun."
She sneaked close enough to pinch him above the ribs, snickering, "A visit to the whorehouse, so soon after a chaste art studio session with Ms. Innocent?" Eve shook her head at him as she laughed, looking ahead to the Two-Queens Shy, the establishment to which they were surely headed.
Woe didn't dignify her remark with an acknowledgement. Besides, she knew well enough not to push the issue of his association with Perdita Westcott. It was entirely that of employee and employer as far as he was concerned. And he knew she felt the same. Besides which, she was spoken for.
"And look, you're even dressed to impress. Who is it that you're going to see in there?" Eve quirked a brow, craning her neck to take a look up and down at Woe.
Woe wore a long-sleeved, blue-gray silk jacket covered him to well above his knees and was loosely tied with onyx string at the bottom right side. The sleeves of his jacket are quite wide and reach down to his wrists, they're decorated with a single cloth of onyx thread lining at the sleeve ends. The jacket had a deep v-neck which revealed part of the simple, pale green silk shirt worn below it and was worn with a black cloth neck tie, held in place by a flint broach. The necktie was made of satin. His black pants were simple and quite wide and reach down to his hard leather boots. The boots were made from a tough leather, but are otherwise a common design.
"She's one of the more reputable coutesans in the Two-Queens Shy. Rumor has it..." Some people gave the two eyes, as they walked down the street. Sometimes speaking in Vahanic had that effect, even in a larger village like Egilrun. He shook his head, "There are deaths connected to her, the men she sleeps with going dead days later. I'm merely going to offer the services of my business, to hire a protector for her and perhaps any others of his girls."
Even chuckled softly, but said little for the next few bits, as they entered the busy gaming house and brothel. There were many full tables there, and only a few available to seat at. Woe stood a ways in from the entrance, scanning the crowd. Eve broke her silence, as they entered the general din of the common room. "Services? Is that the word for it?"
"Dibs on your ectoplasm if this 'cursed woman' sends you to me in undeath, sweetling." Eve smiled, and kissed him on the cheek as she vanished from the material world, and took up possession of him, as they'd agreed she would. Thankfully, they were in the darkened hallway between the common room and the gambling hall partitiion of the house, and nobody caught her vanishing act.
Compared to the common room, the gambling den had a few more seats open. Woe looked over the people that ran the tables, and settled into the Suits table, where Grant was seated. Woe hadn't yet met the man, but they knew of each other. Woe gave him a friendly smile, before he slid the buy-in.
"Twenty golden nels." Grant said, chewing on some wheatstraw. "No less."
"Twenty golden nels." Woe said, putting up the bet.
There were two others at the table, who weren't yet dealt in.
Woe could feel Eve speaking into his mind as she possessed him. I can take a look at their cards? Prevent you from making unnecessary risks?
I'm rather new here, Eve. I don't think cheating in order to win is going to win me many friends.
Well why did you even bring me? My expertise is in winning, sweet one.
Woe shook his head as the cards were dealt. Five to each hand.
I'd like to make a good showing, is why, without bankrupting them.
So saying, he tilted the cards, taking a look at them under the table. A mix of suit colors. Two, three, a Queen, and a pair of red and black aces. Woe wondered if that was good, and Eve answered him, sharing her skill of Gambling through their symbiotic possssion. Not bad. Not a sure thing, either.
Woe thought that was a good thing then, it gave him some time to mull over his practiced pitch to Grant. Woe's eyes trailed to either end of the table, to the men gathered there. One was a middle-aged man, his hairline well receded to the back of his head. He looked like a ranger, but no emblems to signify an official role. Not that Woe expected a ranger to wear them.
The other man was slimmer, but about the same age, maybe younger. He gave up one of his cards, and demanded another. The stakes were raised by a few more nels. The man with no hairline pitched into the stakes. Leaving Woe to either discard a card, stand where he was, raise or fold. How he knew these things? The symbiotic possession of Eve must've informed him of the rules. She didn't even need to say a word to instruct him, he found. It just came naturally, as if he were an expert.
He decided to discard the Queen, and tapped the table, to call for another card, and join the raising of stakes.
A card was slid over to him. He turned over its corner, noting a four. He could feel Eve's soul wincing within him. Too tempting. Two aces were a less than mediocre hand, only two other winning hands in Suits were worse than a pair of aces. Woe's face was entirely unreadable, however, and he found in himself a natural bluffer.
He took the black ace, and slid it over, calling to raise the stakes again with another ten nels. What came back to him, was a red five. Eve's soul sang in joy inside of him. Not bad, sweetling! A straight.
Woe mentally noted that there was only one hand in the game that could beat a straigth, that being a Royal Flush. But did he really want to win this early? He mulled it over, watching the men he was with. The one with the receding hairline gave him strange looks. Like he was expecting him to pull a knife or magic at any moment. The man definitely had some issues. Woe wasn't sure if he wanted to be the one to deal with them, and contemplated demolishing his hand.
Eve groaned at the very idea, inside his soul. In the end, Woe decided he'd make a good impression by showing what a fine player of cards he was.
The dealer, Grant, called it. "Twenty nels."
Woe nodded, sliding over the coins, "I'll see your twenty, and raise you thirty."
This raised the stakes to around 90 nels. The man with the hairline smirked mirthlessly as he laid down his cards. "I fold."
"Me too." Said the slim one. Leaving just Woe and Grant to grapple for the pot.
Woe eyed Grant, letting none of his thoughts show on his face. Finally, Grant laid down his cards, showing two eights and three nines. A full house.
The man with a receding Hairline whistled, and then turned expectantly to Woe. "Didn't see that one coming, did ya?"
Woe let a tight smirk form on his face, for once letting down his mask of indifference. He put his cards down, face up. "Straight Flush."
Grant's face drooped at that, and he fumbled for his hand of cards, looking through them and then double taking at Woe's revealed hand. No signs of cheating, just damned good luck.
Then, he put down his hand, and began smiling slowly. He clapped a few times, applauding the mortalborn. "Well done, Mister Morandi."
"Do you mind, if we talk business?" Woe asked, "This is about your girl, Giedre."
Woe couldn't ignore the look on the man with a hairline, as he flinched at the sound of the girl's name. Woe noted this, but pretended not to. "I was wondering... if maybe you'd like to arrange for some protection. I'm offering discounts on finders fees for bodyguards..."
Grant scratched his chin, and then beckoned over toward one of the maids serving the table. "Let's have a drink first. Business later. Such matters as these shouldn't be rushed into, you know?"
"I trust you know the reputation of Gierdre, that she is cursed?" Grant said, solemnly as he took a tankard from her tray. "What can she get you? I have all kinds of libations on offer."
"Something tart... do you have Onyx Oblectation?" Woe asked.
Grant gave the mortalborn an evil smile. "You know too much, Mister Morandi. I trust you realize I have the finest collection of Ne'haeran libations in my personal collection? Very well."
So saying, he put aside the tankard, sending his server off to fetch a bottle of the 'good' stuff.
"Now, what's your interest in Giedre?" He asked, leaning forward.
(Thank you for the note on being helped by the ghost.)