The Last Mark

Writers: Mirren, Paula
Date Posted: 1st October 2015

Characters: Fymer, Bortem, Trinda
Description: Fymer and Bortem gamble, and lose. Or do they?
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 2, day 2 of Turn 8

Bortem

Fymer studied his hand and then looked around. He examined the faces of the other men around the table, trying to spot from their expressions who had a good hand and who didn't. The tavern was dimly lit and way too warm, thanks to the hot weather outside. Drinks was consumed almost as fast as the staff could carry new ones to the table. Fymer took a gulp from his cool ale.

Sweat trickled down Bortem's brow, caused as much by stress as it was by the heat. He wanted to win so badly it almost hurt. He put a card on the discard pile and picked up another. It didn't help.

The harper noticed the sweat, but it was hard to say if it was caused by heat or nerves. "I raise by half-mark," Fymer declared and slid the disc to the pile in centre of the table. One of the seacrafters grunted and folded with a shake of his head. Thin smile played on Fymer's lips, the fortune was favoring him today. Or so it seemed. The fortune tended to be a fickle thing and could turn against him in any moment.

Bortem considered his options. He should fold too, but if he could hold his nerve for long enough- "I raise you another half-mark." He was almost out, he needed to win this or he'd be losing more than marks.

Fymer pushed a half mark more to the pile, answering Bortem's raise with self confident smile. Half of the success in game was make to everyone else believe you had a good hand.

"You boys like to live on the edge?" a white-haired captain asked and gave signal that he wanted two new cards before answering to bets.

"They wouldn't know the edge if it bit them on the behind." The forth player was a busty woman of middle years by the name of Trinda, who rather liked taking money from men.

"No edge," Bortem said awkwardly. "When you have a winning hand…" His laugh wasn't even slightly convincing.

Fymer just snorted sarcastically. He had played in the same table with Bortem so many times that he knew him.
"Any more bets or do you want to show your hands?" the harper asked.

Trinda lay her cards on the table. "Can you men beat that?" She smiled.

"No," Bortem lay his miserable hand out and scowled. "My luck is bound to turn." Maybe. Some day.

Fymer lay on the table his Lady-pair. The Sea Captain laid down two pairs and cleaned the table with a smug smirk.
Fymer scowled at him. He had been doing fine until now.

"Another hand?" Trinda suggested.

Bortem shouldn't, but he nodded eagerly. He had to get his marks back somehow.

"Not me," the seacrafter said with a shake of his head and left the table, scooping up his remaining marks.

"Smart lad," the Captain noted. "I believe it's the lady's turn to deal," he pushed his cards towards her.

"Yes," Fymer agreed and handed her the deck.

"I'm no lady, " Trinda pointed out. She shuffled and dealt the cards, then picked up her own.

Bortem did the same. At last, he had a good hand. Without meaning to, he grinned.

"I was just being a gentleman. Would you prefer being called comely wench then?" The captain seemed to be busy flirting with her.

Fymer observed his fellow gamers. The Captain seemed to have an endless supply of marks. He so wished he could transferr them to his pockets, which were getting lighter. He moved his attention back to his cards.

"Comely wench is certainly more appropriate," Trinda agreed. "I'm still going to take your marks."

Bortem snorted. A woman like that would take much more before the night was up.

Fymer was not interested in their by-play. He asked for two new cards.

Trinda handed them over and watched his face. "Any good are they?" she asked.

Bortem snorted again. "Like he's going to tell you." Or anyone.

"Bortem is right, I don't tell," Fymer replied with cold voice. He was rather good at controlling his facial expression too, so his face gave out nothing. Turns and Turns of being gambler had taught the harper a trick or two.

"Yeah, yeah" Trinda picked up a couple of cards herself.

"Who is in?" Bortem put his last half mark forward.

"Me, and raising by half," the Captain said and put a whole mark to the centre of the table.

"I'm in," Fymer declared and his mark hit the growing pile too.

"I'm out. Trinda put down her cards and sat back.

"I'm out of marks," Bortem said miserably.

Fymer and the Captain revealed their hands and the Captain won the marks, again. Fymer groaned when he watched all those marks disappear from the table. The Captain had such a luck that Fymer was starting to suspect he was cheating somehow. Or perhaps he and that wench were in same ploy. He watched them suspiciously and wondered if he should pull Bortem aside for few private words. If they accused him together of cheating, they would at least get their own marks back.

Bortem say the expression and frowned. "What?" he asked Fymer.

"Help me to get a refill, please," Fymer asked from him and nodded towards the bardesk. He took the empty pitcher and tried to convey a message to Bortem non-verbally.

"If you're buying." Bortem wasn't going to refuse in that case. He rose to his feet and followed the harper.

After they were out of earshot, Fymer leaned to whisper to Bortem. "Do you think they've cheating on us? The grizzly captain and comely wench? Working together to clean us out?"

"Yes," Bortem replied. "Now that you mention it. My luck isn't usually that bad." It was, most of the time, but if he could get his marks back, he could keep playing.

"Why don't we go to talk with the Tavern Master? It's far more convincing if we both testify against them," Fymer suggested with a sneaky little smile.

"Yes, let's do that. He'll listen to you and then I'll back you up. All right?" Bortem wasn't going to speak up first!

"Yes, that would be wise," Fymer murmured. To him, Bortem didn't seem to be clever enough to pull it off, while the harper was experienced liar.

"Well?" Bortem gestured for him to proceed him as they made their way across the tavern.

Fymer nodded at him and located the Tavern master. He snatched the man's sleeve. "Excuse me, we have been robbed. Those two over there, they work together to cheat on unsuspecting poker players..."

Bortem nodded. "Between them they've won almost every hand, usually when they've been dealing."

The tavern master nodded and looked over at the apparent cheaters. "Aye, I've had trouble with those," he replied slowly.

"I demand we get our money back from those swindlers," Fymer said with an arrogant tone. He knew that the Tavern Master knew him, the harper was a regular customer.

The man scratched his head. "Well I dunno about that…"

"They are ruining the reputation of your tavern. Who wants to come here if they get robbed?" Fymer snapped. Was the tavern master dimglow?

"Yeah," Bortem said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I s'pose so." The tavern master said wearily. He started to march across the room toward the perpetrators.

"Seriously, that man has no sense for business," Fymer snorted when watched the Tavern master's back. He crossed his arms and tapped the floor with his foot.

"Mmm," Bortem agreed. He watched the conversation across the room go from a quiet chat to a heated argument. "I don't like our chances."

"I doesn't look good," Fymer agreed. The Captain seemed to have some authority. Enough to cow the Tavern Master.

"Maybe we should leave before someone starts swinging," Bortem suggested.

"Good idea," Fymer agreed and started slowly to move towards the door.

Bortem was only too happy to follow. He just reached the door when he heard a shout and the sound of something breaking. "Hurry." That might be the first sensible thing he'd said and done all day.

Fymer nodded and picked up his pace. The Captain seemed like a guy who would try to get even with them. He was not going to stick around to find out.

Last updated on the October 25th 2015

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The Last Mark