The gambling den I found at the bottom of the stairs appeared to have been a storage basement originally. At some point, it had been cleared out, floorboards and wall-coverings installed, and converted into tavern-like room with a low ceiling. Four stone pillars helped to support the ground above us, and a few scattered lanterns kept the place in a near-dusk level of light. Patrons, around fifty of them, gathered at eight tables upon which were dice, cards, and other objects for playing games, along with piles of coins. There wasn’t much noise aside from the rolling of dice and the announcements of the humans running each table.
The guard who had invited me in indicated that I should stay near the entrance, then walked across the room and through a door in the back of the den. I watched the gamblers for a few minutes, trying to figure out how much money was being exchanged, until he and another man walked out of the back room to meet me. The new man was skinny, wore a vest, and had graying hair despite his otherwise youthful appearance. Obviously the boss, I thought. Instead of giving me the receipt I was looking for, he tried to hand me a small bag of coins.
“Come, you can play some games while you wait, can’t you?” he asked.
“No thank you,” I replied, pushing the bag back towards him.
“Please, I insist,” the den boss said, pushing the bag towards me again. “I'm having a small issue getting your receipt, I don't want you to be bored standing around.” I moved to refuse him again, but then I saw the determined look in his eyes.
“If I lose this in a game, will that be a problem?” I asked, gesturing to the bag.
“Of course not,” the den boss replied, turning the bag over and dumping the coins inside into my hand. These aren’t currency, I noticed immediately, they’re some kind of replacement money. “You just have fun, I'll call you over when everything is ready,” he assured me. “Use those coins to play, and if you win, I'll exchange them for normal money when you're done. I gave you ten ngoywngeyt there. If you're lucky, you’ll get thirty back at least.”
----------------------------------------
The game at the tables was surprisingly simple. Essentially, one would roll eight dice inside a wooden cup, then call out a series of numbers that could be on the dice. If dice came up with those numbers, they would be removed from the player’s dice, and the remainder would be used for scoring by matching them to certain patterns. Four rounds would be played, with each round beginning with a betting phase and ending with a phase wherein a player could choose to forfeit. There was an increasing minimum bet each round, incentivizing a sharp split between risky play and early forfeits, making the first round the most important.
I opted to watch a whole game before joining in, mainly because I didn’t have much of an interest in playing in the first place beyond testing my probabilistic analysis against the humans, which could be done on my own. After a few minutes, I grew bored and started to look around at the other tables, then noticed someone in the back of the room watching me. At first, I thought they might be a guard in plain clothes, but then I noticed that their feet were shackled together with a chain that looked just long enough to allow walking but not running. Young, male, brown-red hair, brown eyes, light skin, I thought, doesn’t appear any different from the rest of these people superficially.
“Hey, delivery guy!” the den boss called out, waving me over to the other side of the room, nearer to the prisoner. As I walked up to him, he noticed where I was looking, then glanced at the prisoner himself. “What did I tell you about staring?” he snapped at them, triggering a reflexive defensive pose.
“Do you have the record of receipt?” I asked, getting the den boss’ attention back. He scratched his head, then pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. After confirming that it was like the others, I put it in the messenger bag and removed the fake money he had given me. “You can have these back,” I told him.
“Didn’t play at all?” he asked.
“I was watching to learn the rules,” I replied. “Doesn’t look overly complicated, but I wanted to be sure. As it turns out, you were quick enough that I never got the chance to play.” And I suspect you were trying to trap me somehow, I thought.
“Bah,” the den boss scoffed. “Gambling isn’t about rules, it’s about fun and money! You just need to play, don’t bother with learning. It’s all about luck anyway, if you’ve got no luck you can’t win, but you can win with only luck even if you don’t know how to play. You sure you don’t want to go a round or two? I don’t mind at all, it’s no trouble.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him.
“Well then, is there anything else I can do for you?” the den boss asked. “Maybe you want a different kind of game? We don’t just have gawmbao nertay, there are a few more in the back room for people with different tastes.” Once again, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the prisoner watching me.
“I’m not interested in gambling,” I said. “However, I would like to know something: Who is that man with the chains on his legs?” The den boss raised an eyebrow, then grunted.
“Out-of-towner, are you?” he asked, suddenly becoming more serious.
“Yes,” I replied, “just arrived recently.”
“You hear about that Owsahlk business?” the den boss asked.
“You’re referring to the massacre in the slums?” I asked back.
“Yeah,” the den boss confirmed. “What did you think of it?” I took a moment to phrase my thoughts carefully before responding.
“It seemed very excessive to me,” I said. The den boss appeared to mentally digest my reply for a moment, then shrugged.
“Well, that’s what those people do,” he hissed. “Owsahlk was slow on their response to the Rehvites, they let them take root, and look at the result. We’re not the same here, when they came to our city, our leaders took action swiftly. That’s why it’s so peaceful here, and why there aren't any massacres.”
“I noticed that there didn’t appear to be any Rehvites around,” I replied.
“‘Any person old enough to carry a weapon, regardless of prior status, who is suspected of worshiping the god Rehv or any derivative religion is to be summarily tried and executed upon their capture’,” the den boss quoted. “Anyway, to answer your question, Zhahpao over there is a Rehvite.” I looked at the prisoner, Zhahpao, again and saw him glaring back at me.
“He seems old enough to carry a weapon,” I commented.
“That he does,” the den boss smiled. “You see, that edict only counts if the guards catch you. If someone else does, however, well you can imagine what some Rehvite filth might need to do in order to avoid being turned in. Working here is far preferable to losing his head.” So it’s voluntary? I wondered.
“He must be skilled in magic, being a Rehvite,” I said. “Isn’t having him here a huge risk?”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Oh no, far from it,” the den boss laughed. “We’ve got his little sister in another building, and he knows exactly what’ll happen to her if he acts up too much. You’ve got nothing to worry about. He's as docile as can be, right Zhahpao? Get me a drink, would you?” Though the man in chains made no verbal reply as he walked off into the back room, his eyes displayed anything but docility.
----------------------------------------
Back at the Zae’ey’yaob residence, I returned my bag and the contents to the same storage room I had originally gotten them in. A few minutes later, Aavspeyjh came down to meet me. As it was the middle of the night, he looked tired, but he still sat quietly and listened as I reported the events that had happened during each delivery. I left out the last part at the gambling den with the Rehvite because I didn’t think it was relevant, but I did tell him the boss tried to give me free money. Once I finished, Aavspeyjh just stood in place, thinking quietly.
“You killed four people?” he asked after a few seconds.
“In self-defense,” I confirmed. “Three of the bodies are hidden, and one is not, as I said. I don’t suspect any of them were important, based on their appearances.” Aavspeyjh went quiet again, then reached out and took the insignia off my gambeson slowly. He didn’t appear upset, but I had seen Koyl act in a similar manner enough times to know he was probably frustrated. Their body language is very similar, I noted, I wonder if that’s genetic or a result of their social relationship.
“And the woman you killed, you are sure nobody was there with her?” he asked.
“Nobody that I saw,” I replied. “There were no witnesses as far as I know.”
“I just find it odd,” Aavspeyjh muttered. “That was the kind of setup I would expect from an ambush, but there was only one person.”
“Maybe the others ran off before I could detect them,” I suggested.
“I suppose her identity will explain more, once the body is found,” he grumbled to himself, rubbing his chin. Again he went quiet, losing himself in thought. “Still, four people…” he muttered.
“You did heavily imply that I should defend myself with lethal force,” I replied.
“Yes, I suppose I did,” he sighed. “I should have paid more attention to my son’s stories about you. He did tell me you had a tendency to take things very literally, and have little compunction about killing. That being said, I suppose I would have rather had you kill them than give up those packages, but the unfortunate result is that we now have a problem.” That doesn’t sound good, I frowned.
“I did what you asked-” I began.
“Do not misunderstand,” Aavspeyjh interrupted. “Take this money, go to the inn down the street, and stay there under the name Zhaat Zyoyf. I will get in contact with you once this is all cleaned up.” He handed me a bag with some money in it, and I quickly memorized the name. “This is not a punishment, I just need to make sure you are off the streets so that the guards do not pick you up until I can work things out with them. You did a good job, followed my orders exactly, and made good time. I appreciate that, truly. The error was mine, not yours.” Once again, I felt my opinion of Aavspeyjh growing.
“I’ll get going immediately then,” I said.
“This will only take a day or two,” Aavspeyjh informed me. “Stay near the inn, stay indoors if possible. I am still working on getting you passage to Awrehrehzhah as well, but this will slow things slightly.”
----------------------------------------
The inn down the street turned out to be an inn called “Teyysao’s”, and was one of the few inns I had ever seen that used a bed as an icon on its sign. When I walked inside, I found a familiar layout that was near-identical to the inn Koyl and I had stayed in during our first night in Kahvahrniydah, albeit cleaner and newer looking. Walking up to the counter, I saw a slightly rotund woman with orange hair and eyes walk up to me with a smile.
“Hey there,” she greeted in a slight accent, smiling widely. “Just for one?”
“Just for one,” I echoed. “I’d like some food as well, and I’ll be staying a few days. Do you bring food to the rooms?” The woman’s smile faded and her expression turned serious.
“Zhaat Zyoyf?” she asked. Oh great, they re-use codenames, I sighed, surely, that will be great for security.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Yeah, we can do that,” she said. “Just give me the-” I passed the whole bag of money across the counter, and the woman quickly snatched it and shoved it into a pocket on her apron. “Give our mutual friend my regards. You can come down to the dining room if you want to, by the way. We haven’t had any guards in here for quite some time.” Looking around, I saw a table that was empty in the far corner of the room.
“Bring me a plate, I’ll be over there,” I said, gesturing to the table before walking off. Almost nobody in here is wearing a weapon, I realized as I made my way across the dining room, it’s strange, there are only a few with swords. Maybe they’re all carrying small knives? I drew some attention from the sheer amount of armaments I was carrying when compared to the average person in the room, but nobody said anything and I sat down without incident.
A few minutes later the innkeeper brought me a platter of meat and vegetables, drizzled in a thick oil mixture that was spicy and sweet. As I slowly fed myself with a fork in my left hand, I pushed air around with my right, trying to create a funnel or an airfoil without directing my full attention to the task. The lack of dry dust on the tabletop impeded my progress because I couldn’t really see the shape of the air forms I was making. I wonder if I could use the electric magic to-
“Hey,” a familiar voice grunted, and a person draped in robes sat down across from me, slapping down a platter of their own onto the table. Vaozey, dressed in a hooded tunic and wearing a scarf around her face, made eye contact with me briefly before uncovering her mouth and shoving a handful of food in it. Doesn’t she have a- I thought, then I saw the unused utensil. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” Vaozey mumbled with a mouth full of food.
“You know you have a fork, right?” I asked.
“I’ve seen what they do to ‘wash’ them in the back,” Vaozey snorted. “Trust me, my hands are cleaner. By the way, I heard some Steelheart people might be looking for you. Thought I’d let you know if I saw you again.” So he really did report me, I thought.
“Koyl’s family are taking care of it,” I replied.
“Why am I not surprised?” Vaozey sighed. “This seytoydh city might as well be run entirely by criminals and incompetents.”
“No Rehvites though,” I said. Unless you count that slave and his sister, I thought.
“Those naotawtz in the temple might well be worse,” Vaozey snarled back. “A whole seytoydh day of them preening and whinging and whipping their jhoytz and moymz out to measure and decide who would do what.” Noticing her mouth was empty, she angrily grabbed more food and stuffed her face. “‘Oh the treaty says this’, ‘We can’t act against Pehrihnk’s orders’, ‘This is about more than just lives’, seytoydh sickening.”
“They’re refusing to act?” I asked. I didn’t really have much of a stake in the outcome of whatever politics were happening, but what Vaozey was saying didn’t at all line up with my expectations for human behavior. I would have expected them to jump at the opportunity for a small-scale conflict of this nature, I thought, It seems like everywhere I go these people are looking for a fight.
“Oh they’ll act, eventually,” Vaozey sighed. “I should have expected this. That jhaayjh teylm Zhervaol talked me into coming here when I knew this would happen. I told her as much, and I still came, ridiculous.” Again, Vaozey put more food in her mouth, but her chewing slowed down and her shoulders slumped.
“Going back would have just resulted in your death,” I reminded her.
“Speaking of death,” Vaozey mumbled, still chewing. “Those things Zhervaol’s driver accused you of, did you actually do all that?” No, we’re not doing this in a public place, I thought.
“I met someone else with yellow eyes,” I replied, ignoring the question. “He was also large, like you. I was wondering, are those things related?”
“Did you speak to him?” Vaozey asked, suddenly intense.
“Not really,” I shrugged.
“Good,” Vaozey exhaled. “Take my advice, don’t get involved with him, he’s probably trouble. Are you staying here tonight?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Good, let’s get more food,” Vaozey said. “I haven’t eaten this well in years.”
----------------------------------------
Considering that I was trying to keep a low profile, I opted to stay at my table in the corner of the inn until most of the patrons had left before going to my room. Vaozey, apparently, took my attempts at subtlety as an invitation to eat enough food to feed three men my size and drink ihv until she could barely string a sentence together without going on a tangent. Though her speaking volume also increased, she wasn't saying anything overly important, so the attention she attracted wasn't much of a concern. By the time I got up to head to my room, she had all but forgotten who she was even talking to.
Later that night, while I was trying to sleep, I heard a raspy female voice ranting incoherently in the room beside me, and I spent several minutes debating the benefits of simply unlocking her door and knocking Vaozey out for the night with a blunt object. As I was about to get up, the ranting broke off, then a moment later I heard the sound of someone collapsing onto a wooden floor. Finally, I sighed, some peace and quiet. For the rest of the night, all I heard from her room was the occasional cough, sniffle, and sometimes a faint whispering.