As I walked in, I took a glimpse of the interior. There was only one word to define the place …
Gaudy…
Technically, my assessment could be wrong. After all, it was hard to be more foreign than I was, and my exposure to the new world was rather spotty. Only the highest and the lowest, but nothing in between.
But, I didn't know how else to describe the place, with walls pointed with bright red and decorated with animal heads, bulky furniture studded with silver, and delicate glass goblets. The place shouted expensive, but whoever purchased those had no sense of fashion. Everything clashed horribly.
I paid attention to it, because it told me a lot about the owner … and also, it had implications for the role I was playing.
I made a show of examining the furniture, sneering even as I did so, like the horrible fashion sense was a personal attack, opened my mouth, then erased my expression.
As I put on the show, the people that filled the inn shuffled in place.
The crowd that filled the place clashed even more than the decoration of the place, merchants wearing bright silk — and other fabrics I couldn't identify — sitting next to gruff men wearing leather and chainmail. Their discussion paused the moment I walked in and made a subtle show of my presence.
They were convinced that I was not an ordinary visitor. Now, they needed to decide whether I was a mark, or danger.
I walked forward carelessly, confident in my safety as I stood at the bar and examined the bottles. I recognized very few on the bottom shelf, and only through the descriptions of the others in the camp, usually while bragging about their past achievements.
Trouble of getting a cultural education from farmer refugees.
Not recognizing them didn't keep me from playing my role. "Do you have anything decent?" I asked with an exaggerated frown, speaking softly as I did so. I had no doubt that people with higher Perception caught it, but that was not a problem. I wanted them to hear.
I just didn't want to look like I wanted the attention of the others.
It worked, as I noticed several people watching me more carefully. They tried to hide it, and they weren't even bad at it, but my Perception was too high to miss such things.
Five people, in particular, watching me subtly enough to be impressive. Too bad their success made them more noticeable to me.
"Of course sir," the bartender said as he pulled a bottle from under the bar. "We have the Tears of Flame in stock for a discerning gentleman, for only twenty denicas for a glass," he immediately said, just loudly enough to be heard by the other customers, already pouring a glass.
I would have assumed that the bartender was just trying to fleece me after my display, but I had noticed he only offered that after receiving a signal from one of my more careful observers.
A test.
Luckily, it was exactly what I needed.
"Good, just pass me a clean glass," I said as I removed one of my pouches, which had about three hundred denicas and threw it on the bar dismissively. Bartender looked surprised, but I grabbed the bottle from his hand.
"… I should have brought my own drink. Now I need to drink this swill," I murmured, softly enough that only people with high Perception would hear, and chose an empty table for myself.
I was curious that who would take the bait first.
As I waited for someone to arrive at my table, I poured some from the unknown drink. But not directly, no, that would mean a great loss of opportunity. First, I poured a little, twirled it, and took a sniff, then took a small sip. My act was a mixture of the wine snobs I had met, combining with some behaviors I had seen from the nobles that summoned me.
I had to admit, it was an excellent drink. Somewhere between an aged sweet wine and a smoky whiskey, well-balanced and aromatic. And, along with all the taste benefits, it left a nice warmth behind, which explained the name.
Not to mention, health benefits.
[+2 Health]
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I made sure there was no sign of enjoyment on my face, just a slight distaste mixing with resentment. Then, I dragged my gaze along the walls, showing that my resentment was not just about the drink, but the necessity to be in this shabby place in the first place.
Of course, all that acting was for one thing … make them ask that if a clearly rich and likely noble person resented being here that much, what was he doing here in the first place.
From their faces, I could see several people had already reached the conclusion that I had been driving, but none of them acted. Not yet.
That was the trouble working in the darker side of commerce. No one wanted to make the first move. Though, I hoped that someone would soon grow impatient and break the trend.
I wouldn't have tried that if it wasn't for the unique circumstances. In a more established location, it took weeks to safely contact any illegal operation, and usually, at least a year was required to convince them about the truth of one's identity.
The dungeon was new, and moreover, it had appeared in the middle of the wilderness, where no organization that could handle such wealth existed.
And people were rushing toward this place. Several people in the inn were still wearing dusty clothes, showing they arrived recently. I was betting on the fact that some of those people overreached, and needed partners desperately enough to take the risk.
What better partner than a snobby noble that could potentially support them with not only contrabands, but actual knights…
It took barely ten minutes for the first fish to take the bait … unfortunately, he was not one of the careful observers, but a man that had been playing cards with four others. "Hello, my friend."
I threw a glare of distaste his way, like a dog just pissed my leg, and erased it just as quick. He maintained the same expression, showing he missed it … not the same for the more careful observers. "Yes," I said, maintaining an even tone.
"We have a seat empty in our game. Since you're sitting alone, we thought you might want to join," he said, not even bothering to hide his gaze dipping down to the pouches that were on display.
"Might as well," I murmured and stood up, not even bothering to pick the half-full bottle, like I hadn't just paid a fortune for it.
"We don't play for big money," he started, but his tone disagreed. "Each chip represents only fifty denicas," he said. I looked at the table, and saw they were playing Bhecna, with decks and bets sprawled accurately.
Considering each hand meant risked at least a derum of silver from each of the five players, hardly a small amount, I just nodded. To the character I was playing, it was small instead.
"Let's play," I said as I threw two pouches on the side table, and grabbed twenty chips, which accounted for four derums. No one bothered to even check my pouches, showing that my ploy had been successful.
I played firsthand with a bored disinterest, yet I won. Not surprisingly, none of the five players wanted the extremely rich newcomer to leave the game quickly, so, with silent cooperation, they conceded the game to me. They all smartly assumed that the money I was displaying was only a fraction I could access … pity it was wildly incorrect.
Other than the amount I had invested in my own little gambling operation and the two weapons I buried, that was the extent of my wealth.
On the second hand, I won a bit more, and the third had changed patterns, and most of my profit evaporated. But, three hands were enough to show me what had been going on. Two of the five were professional gamblers, doing their best to cheat, but neither targeted the other, probably agreeing to share their winnings. Admittedly, they were good, and their tricks were much more mature.
Too bad that my eyes were too sharp to miss the fact that they had marked the cards, nor I missed the occasional shift in their cuffs.
Of the other three, one was a bored merchant using it to show off his wealth, uncaring of his losses, one was some kind of fighter who had all the signs of a gambling addict and playing with desperation, and a fifth man who was receiving the signals from the same man who had been signaling the bartender earlier.
Either the owner, or the manager, I guessed. Smart man, having one of his men disguised in a high-stakes game, giving him a chance to intervene in the direction he wished.
"So, what brings you here, Fekar," said the owner's plants as he waited for one of the cheaters to distribute the cards, who was clearly wanting to win big this hand.
"Business," I answered gruffly, acting like I didn't want to talk about it, and reached to my cards instead … and used the opportunity to switch cards around a bit. Cheating was easy, but I was trying to do something more complicated.
I wanted to cheat in a way that two card sharks would blame each other…
"And, you need any help with this … business?" he asked.
I looked at him in dismissal, and didn't even bother to answer. I wanted to accept it, but looking too enthusiastic would hurt me. I needed to be bait enough to reel the big fish. Meanwhile, the game continued, and surprisingly … the plant the owner won two of the three pots, netting him quite a fortune.
The table froze. I wondered who was more surprised, the card sharks, or the winner.
I gave the lazy, good-humored smile of an unsuspecting victim. "Nice play. You're not bad."
Another hand, played in silence, this time the mercenary was the winner, and he won big. Two card sharks looked at each other in fury, each blaming the other for the mistake, their alliance in tethers. On the next hand, they were cheating even more obviously, giving me even more chances to play around unnoticed.
My observers were good, but not that good.
I could have won, of course, but I didn't care about several derums of silver.
No, I had a bigger reward in mind. Carefully, I extended two lines of connection to the card sharks. Stroking their anger was easy, especially as they were already furious… "I'll kill you, you cheating bastard," one of them growled and grabbed the wrist of the other, and pulled a card from there.
The merchant proved his intelligence and pulled back quickly, while the gambling addict reacted the exact opposite. "You dare take my money by cheating!" he shouted as he draw his sword, already swinging…
"Enough!" came a sudden shout. One of my observers, the one that I identified as the owner stood up … and the weight of his Charisma-backed order settled over us.