Gambler and a Squirrel
Chapters
Ch. 1: Curiosity and Guilt
->Ch. 2: Gambler and a Squirrel
Context Clues
This chapter happens a few years before the first chapter.
To be written
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Edward
Early 1120s VTE, City of Kivar-Dan Vidhre, Featherbight Republic, Serene Republic of Nasfaqg.
Brass Mallard, Harbour District
“RIICH- !”, Edward begun, but he was interrupted by the man to his right enthusiastically turning over his hand.
“RON! RON!”
“AIEEEEEH!”
“Tanyao, Pinfu, Dorasan. That’s a dealer mangan, so you go into negatives. Pay up, Eddy boy!”, The fat sailor said gleefully. The excitement of the burly man reminded Edward of a child in a candy store.
Edward leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. The laughter of the other pub-goers and the scent of tobacco returned to his consciousness as the tension of the intense game left him. The bitter and slightly sweet aftertaste of ale still clung to his tongue.
The cold winds, rough waves, and the salt getting everywhere all felt so distant in this moment, made distant and hazy by the warm numbness that spread across his body after a few pints. Like a fleeting nightmare dispelled by the dawn.
Edward stood up, swayed for a moment as he tried to find balance in the spinning tavern, and produced a roll of bills from his breast pocket. He looked at the three men at his table.
“So, what shall it be, gentlemen?”
“I’ll have another pint of that mead.” Said the fat sailor as he was setting up the table for the next game.
“For me, I’ll uh…”, the timid Hooman paused to think for a moment. “I’ll have the same as him.“
Edward gave the man a nod of acknowledgment and turned expectantly towards the last man.
“You can buy me a drink next time we play, Ed. I have to go. Got some early business to attend to.” Luis, the aspiring Valt, said, whilst dressing up.
“Oh come on man, what better business is there than to play mahjong all night long with friends!”, Edward begged Luis to stay, “Just one more hanchan?”
“No. Stay poor.” Luis said with a smile and left. Edward sighed. The fat sailor looked up from the table. He had finished mixing the tiles and was on the process of rebuilding the walls.
“So, we play a sanma then?”. There was caution in the man’s voice; He knew the variant was not popular among the regulars of Brass Mallard. The timid scribe looked at him expectantly. Edward sighed and slowly shook his head. The feeling of the world spinning sharpened for a moment and then abated.
“I don’t know. I’ll go buy us the drinks; we can decide on the games afterward.”Both of the men nodded and gave grunts of approval.
Edward made his way towards the bar, expertly navigating his way through the cramped room. He sat down next to the bar to wait for the owner of the Brass Mallard, a grumpy old hooman whom his customers endearingly called “Glass-Eye-Hag”, to notice him.
There were many legends about Glass-Eye-Hag, his titular glass eye, and how he lost his original one. Some say he lost it in a gamble against a nephilim, others claim that in his greed he had sold it to a cannibal witch doctor, and the more imaginative joke that the glass eye is a masterfully crafted magical device that lets the old hooman see through to the realm of the gods. Spreading wild narratives about the barkeep was a somewhat popular pastime among his regular customers. Glass-Eye-Hag never confirmed nor denied any of these stories, which only further fueled the speculation.
The old man, living a boring life, probably enjoyed hearing others spin fantastical stories about him, Edward assumed.
The exchange was over quickly. Glass-Eye-Hag took Edward’s order and produced the requested drinks. Edward gave him the roll of bills and a nod of thanks, and then returned back to his table. Navigating his way back with three tankards in hand was a bit more complicated, but as an expert bar-goer Edward completed this task without spilling a drop.
The door to the bar opened, letting in a whiff of cool midnight air.
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Jay
Early 1120s VTE, City of Kivar-Dan Vidhre, Featherbight Republic, Serene Republic of Nasfaqg.
Outskirts of the Northern District
The stench of smoke and stale piss tainted the cool midnight air. Yelling and laughter of destitute drunkards disturbed the natural silence of the night. Even though the alleyways were familiar to him, or perhaps precisely because he knew them so well, he was wary of any movement shadows in corners of his vision. His ears were perked up ready to notice any footsteps coming up behind him. Although he did not know his exact age, he knew himself to be on the verge of adulthood. Being still just a boy and of small statured race, Jay had no hope of defending himself against anyone who would attack him. He tightened his grasp on the knife in his pocket, his only possession in addition to the clothes on his back. He was ready to fight if he had to, but he much preferred running. That was what his physique was good for, running and climbing.
He felt the sting of a a familiar pain as his stomach growled. Jay had not eaten in three days. He had no luck in finding food to steal nor had begging given him much more than a few dollars, barely enough to afford a few pieces of bread which Jay had given to Ida instead.
Seeing his sister starve hurt him worse than any hunger ever could.
There was a loud crash behind him, followed by the sound of empty cans clattering down the cobblestone alleyway. Jay’s heart jumped and he spun around on the spot, knife in hand ready for a fight. His hairs stood up, which made his fluffy tail look even bigger than it usually was.
An eerie silence followed. Jay could see no movement, only the outlines of a humanoid figure laying on the ground a few paces in front of him. The figure was not moving.
A lone drunkard had fallen over some trash filled wooden crates.
Jay snuck in closer. In the faint light of the lamps that lit the nearby street he could just barely distinguish some of the features of the drunkard. A woman of indeterminate age, but a lot older than him. She was wearing a patched jacket far too large for her. Below her jacket she was wearing a rather provocative outfit, with one of her breasts having slipped out of her skimpy shirt. All her clothes were tattered, their once bright colours worn out by time and dirt. Jay figured she was one of the women who earned their living whoring themselves out to visiting sailors and local drunkards. She had probably once been beautiful, but years and misery had taken their toll on her.
The woman was knocked out cold, but Jay could still feel her breath on his hand. He patted around her head to see whether the woman had hit her head. To his relief, he could not feel any blood. She was not hurt, at least not in a way that could lead to her death. She would wake up in the morning with a few cuts and bruises and in a world of pain, but she would live. Or so Jay thought. He was not a trained physician, but he had seen and experienced some injuries during his life, so he had a decent grasp on what could lead to death and what would not.
Jay moved her body to the side of the alleyway so that she would not be in the way of anyone else who would walk through this area. It was the best he could do for her right now. He knew the woman could not afford proper medical care, so searching for help was fruitless. Waking up in an alleyway with a few injuries and a hangover was far better than waking up from a bed to find oneself indebted to a shady back-alley doctor.
The corporate physicians were not an option. Jay doubted they would even take her in.
Jay rummaged through the woman’s pockets while he was at it. He helped himself to a reward of a few dozen dollars, enough to afford a warm meal for tonight and some roasted nuts for his sister. Whores were a few steps above orphans in the wealth hierarchy, so Jay doubted the woman would even notice him taking a little cut of her earnings. He muttered a short prayer to the Squirrel and left the woman in the alleyway.
The warm firelight of the lamps cast twisting shadows around the few people that walked up or down the street leading to the docks. Most of the city was already asleep, and Jay knew that his best bet for finding someone willing to sell him some cheap food was the harbour district. There sailors, both foreign and local, were spending their wages in affordable taverns and brothels whilst waiting for their ships to leave for another trip to faraway lands.
With each step he took the smell of the sea grew stronger, cutting through the ever-present stench of smoke. He felt safer walking along the main street and the better off areas of the city, but even then he gasped the small knife in his pocket. He made way for a group of three city guards, glad in simple brown cloaks embroided with the city insignia: A shield depicting an owl standing over a bundle of golden grain. One of the riflemen gave him a nod as they passed. Soon he arrived at the Harbour District, where a new smell shared the stage with that of the sea and smoke; the alluring scent of cooked food. His stomach growled loudly. Enchanted by the smell, Jay wandered deeper into the Harbour District.
Dozens of lights in various shades of red, orange, and pink, surrounded him, each marking a different establishment where men and women with the money could drink, eat, and fuck to their heart's content. Shouting and laughter filled the moonlit night. People in various stages of intoxication walked about the streets, on their way from one establishment to another. He saw large tattooed men carrying skewers of steaming meat, tall pale women laughing loudly as they emptied bottles of cheap wine, little Valt wearing simple silk robes, and even a few squirrelfolk like himself hopping from one establishment to another. At every street corner stood a city guard, silently watching the crowd. Jay felt a little overwhelmed, but the sting in his stomach forced him onward, deeper into the crowd. After a few minutes of wandering, Jay came across a promising tavern a bit further away from the main street: The Brass Mallard.
Jay walked to the front door and opened it, letting out a whiff of warm tobacco smelling air.
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A Bet
Early 1120s VTE, City of Kivar-Dan Vidhre, Featherbight Republic, Serene Republic of Nasfaqg.
Brass Mallard, Harbour District
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