A Game of Cards

The old tavern, usually empty, now roared with the voices of more patrons than its worm-eaten timbers were used to. Bright reds and oranges leapt from the large communal fireplace of the common room, casting hundreds of joyful shadows in every direction, filling the drinking hall with an abundance of spectral patrons. Mugs clinked in toast and laughter echoed against the murmur of endless conversation. No one paid attention to the howling wind outside, or the snow that came with it. Winter storms were nothing new to the town of Ironfall, and as long as the bitterness outside remained there and the drink flowed freely there was no need to worry. However, it wasn't a worry that had crept in this night.   Buried in the umbral celebration, Dartimien sat alone at a large table pitted with age, use and smeared with one coat of lacquer too many. In front of him a single glass of golden wine waited patiently to be savored. He stared absently at the glass for a long while, but didn’t drink. He wasn’t thirsty anymore and was in no mood to join the revelry around him. Above his head was a small window that offered a glimpse into the heart of the snowstorm beyond. It wasn’t a refuge from the chill that brought him here nor was it the cheap drink, or cheaper company. He was here because of a promise, a promise he should never have made. Honor among thieves was one thing but now he was asking for trouble. From beneath the brim of his hat his eyes scanned the surface of the table he sat at, and the 4 empty chairs around it. Nobody was coming. With a heavy sigh he reached into the pocket of his black overcoat and retrieved a deck of playing cards.   He began to shuffle the deck, as he studied the door silently hoping his trip here hadn’t been a waste of time. The deck was old and well worn, much like the tavern he sat in. Both of them were filled with stories. Dartimien dealt out the first card; the Jack of Diamonds. Some were stories worth remembering. He dealt the next card; the Queen of Spades. Others, not so much. He returned the cards to the deck and set it down in the center of the table, the game would start soon enough. His eyes traced the outline of the door frame for the hundredth time. At least he hoped it would start soon. A slight smile found its way to his lips and with it came the memory of the last time a snow storm had led to a friendly game of cards.   It was exactly 3 years ago to the day that he had found himself trapped in the Black Dragon Inn, courtesy of an unexpected and severe snow storm. His friend Aradir had suggested a shortcut through Qualossi Forest, the ancient homeland of their kinsmen. The Wood Elves were friendly enough and welcomed outsiders especially considering the circumstances, but neither one of them was ready to go home again. Dartimien had been banished over the death of his childhood friend – a death he wasn’t responsible for and Aradir could simply no longer stand the sight of it. The prospect of possibly freezing to death to avoid their ancient homeland pushed them through the waist deep snow drifts until finally the lights of the inn dissolved out of the darkness.   A sudden roar of winter wind blew in through the open door, whipping the flames of the fire wildly, drawing Dartimien back to the present. Out of the now chaotic dance of shadows Summer emerged fresh from the storm. Summer Nightsong quickly scanned the common room and spotted the royal blue plumage blooming from Dartimien's hat. His long hair shining in the firelight as brilliant as the gold he craved. With an impish smirk she slipped through the crowd and stood before Dartimien and his empty table. Drawing back the hood from her snow caked cloak, she freed a cascade of auburn tresses dusted with snow. A slender hand reached up to her neck and opened the clasp, sending her cloak to the ground. Leaning over the back of the chair, and smiling with practiced seduction, she watched as the elf lifted his head finally taking notice. His eyes scanned up, past her chest, which she had no intention of hiding, and matched her feigned lustful gaze with one of his own.   “Does that still work?” he looked at her over suspiciously. What little skin she chose not to expose was hidden beneath a single tantalizing lair of leather and fishnet, or adorned with ill earned baubles. Gifts of adoration from dozens of now very destitute would be suitors. He spotted a familiar garnet pendant and rolled his eyes.   Summer reeled back in shock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she hissed glaring at him venomously.   Dartimien sighed. He was in no mood for games - other than his own of course. “Sticking the uh… ladies, in some unsuspecting guy's face and expecting him to melt. Does that still work…?” he smiled with all the charm he could muster without laughing and reached for his wine glass. “…at your age.”   Summer's eyes widened in rage but she maintained her composure. “Some of us won’t have a 700th birthday handsome.” She mused from behind a tense, though still scripted grin. Though she appeared to be in her mid twenties she was actually nearing 70 human years. Long ago she had seduced an alchemist and stolen a copy of his life’s work; a formula for a potion that completely reversed the aging process. It was a secret she had managed to keep for over 50 years. Dartimien had accidentally stumbled on it and ever since took great delight in dangling it over her head whenever the opportunity arose. “Besides, I’ve never forced anyone to do anything for me they didn’t want to.”   “Of course not.” Dartimien said sympathetically. He took another sip of wine and rubbed his chin in thought. “You know, not every guy is going to just turn to clay in your hands when you turn on the…” he paused to sneak a fleeting glance at her elegant curves. “…charm.” He finished flatly.   Summer raised an eyebrow, rested a hand on the table and leaned in towards her companion. She ran a finger along the length of the delicate silver chain, tugging at it slightly. The single red stone hung against her finger, more a trophy than a decoration. Locking eyes with the elf she smiled in defiance. “I beg to differ.” She whispered. Dartimien narrowed his eyes. He knew when they had met that she was every bit the accomplished con artist he was. Against his better judgment and the advice of his friends he began working a few jobs here and there with her. Summer was a talented thief, and a master of the confidence game with a wit as sharp as the rapier at his side. Eventually he made the mistake of getting too close to her. The problem with falling for a woman like Summer was at some point a choice had to be made; was it love or an act? Worst of all it wasn’t Summers' choice to make. She already knew.   Dartimien finished off the contents of his wine glass, coldly staring her down. “So it would seem.”   Summer stood back detecting his displeasure. She casually glanced around at the tavern's patrons enjoying the sidelong glances and hushed whispers aimed at her. “You know a gentleman would have offered me a seat by now.”   Again, he paused considering her thinly veiled request. “Uh huh… and what would desperate perverts do?”   Summer stared at him mockingly. “Hmm… If I remember correctly you sat at the opposite end of the bar drinking apple brandy and flashing that ridiculous smile of yours at me. By the time you’d drunk enough courage to come talk to me you were so slobbering drunk…” she paused, savoring the exact exchange and nuance of their first meeting with smug satisfaction. Her tone suddenly shifted to that of the wounded lover. “…You weren’t a challenge anymore.” She chirped, tugging at the thin silver pendant around her neck   Dartimien nodded, recalling the enchanted spring evening he met a young human woman struggling to con enough gold to pay for passage across the border from a motley crew of drunken farmhands who would never see the kind of money she was attempting to swindle from them even if they lived two lifetimes. As the hours passed and the tavern drew closer and closer to closing, her situation became more desperate. The woman sat alone at a table, desperation and circumstance forcing tears dangerously close to ruining her well choreographed act. He offered her an encouraging grin and returned to his drink. Removing his hat, where he hid all manner of important things including a few emergency gold coins and some essential lock picking tools sewn into the lining, he removed a folded wanted poster. He glanced over his shoulder then back at the poster. The same woman now sat behind him waiting to be arrested. She was wanted for various petty larcenies but the list was long and unfortunately the bounty was high. Printed in thick ominous black letters were the words every professional feared – “Wanted: Dead or Alive”. She had obviously made someone very upset.   Summer heard the sound of chair legs sliding across the rough hewn floor. Dartimien pushed out her chair from underneath the table and wordlessly gestured for her to sit. She slipped triumphantly into her seat and reached for the deck of cards.   “I have to admit, I’m surprised you made it here.” She lifted the deck and performed a series of one handed cuts, a feat Dartimien still envied.   “I promised all of you the next time we played here I’d have a job all lined up.” It was true; he did have a job lined up. “It’s simple enough but I need a crew to pull it off.” Summer listened, waiting for the details or some hint of Dartimien’s notorious double talk. She had known him for a long time and when he was trying to get away with something his words became filled with a frustratingly cryptic ambiguity. She didn’t find any, but was certain it would come out sooner or later. He could be difficult; there was no doubt about it. That’s why she still loved him. With a final cut and shuffle she dealt two cards from the bottom of the deck too fast, she hoped, for Dartimien to notice. Setting the deck back down she picked up the cards and looked them over. With a content sigh she showed them to her companion. The image of the Queen and Jack of Diamonds stabbed him through the heart. Summer let them linger in his face. “Together again.” She mused.   Dartimien presented her with an obviously forced smile. “You’re up so far, my pair was off suit.”   Summer began to speak but a voice boomed from behind, startling her. “Then it’s my turn! I’ll win first hand!” Brimstone Steelhammer, forced his way past the inn patrons with a mug of thick, foaming beer in each hand he kicked a chair off the table and sat down.   The grizzled old dwarf gave Summer a suspicion once over and clawed at the table until he could reach the deck. “Who’s in the lead?” he barked. Dartimien pointed at Summer who took one sidelong glance at the dwarf and turned up her nose. Brimstone’s laughter bellowed above the noise of the crowd. “So! The princess is going to deal eh?” he scratched his nose with the edge of the deck before dealing for good luck as he did before any game of chance. Summer shut her eyes tight. She had no desire to watch Brimstone’s disgusting ritual. He slowly dealt out the top cards, quickly revealing the first as the Ace of Clubs. Brimstone breathed a heavy sigh of relief then turned his attention to the next card, handling it gingerly not wanting his good fortune to falter. The Four of Hearts was revealed next and Brimstone slammed his fist down in frustration.   “Maybe next year…” Summer said with a smirk. Brimstone glared at her and raised one of his mugs and took a long, slow drink. He peeked past its edge at Dartimien, who responded with a single nod while Summer’s attention was focused on the flattering stares of a few less than honorable onlookers. Brimstone lowered the mug and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “So what sort of job did you land us?” Brimstone removed a dagger from his belt and a small piece of wood from a pouch. He settled back in his chair and began to whittle, waiting for his answer.   Summer raised a hand and ordered a glass of wine. She turned back to her companions, as their conversation had become interesting again. Dartimien smiled. There was no harm in revealing the nature of the job.   “It’s a con…” he said matter-of-factly. “…a small one, but I need some help. That’s where you guys come in.” He felt bad for a moment. There was no escaping the feeling that he was shorting them somehow. Dartimien would be the only one who’d get the payoff. He’d compensate them all out of his own pocket of course but it didn’t ease his conscience any. Rhiven had once told him that sometimes you had to trick your friends into helping you, as long as nobody got hurt. Dartimien didn’t like to lie to people that trusted him but this score was just too good to share.   Summer was getting impatient. “So what do we have to do?” she said in a huff. Her façade fell for a moment. A familiar hint of desperation haunted her voice. While she was too proud to admit it, she learned a few bounty hunters had caught onto her trail a few towns back and was at best a day ahead of her pursuers. The snow storm, she hoped, would buy her some time.   Brimstone frowned. “We’ll discuss that when the others arrive.” A young woman arrived with another round of drinks. Brimstone choked down the remains of his second mug and ordered 2 more to replace it. With that, the door swung open and slammed against the wall courtesy of the strong winds outside. Aradir Skyblade stepped inside with the typical stern visage of a career soldier. When he was satisfied he escorted a cloaked figure into the tavern. Aradir forced the door shut, as his companion brushed off the snow and stood before the fire, trying to get warm again. Aradir marched towards the assembly at their usual table. It was rare to see him with the armor of his private mercenary company, the “Steel Dragoons” or in the fineries of the elven nobility he secretly envied. Being seen in this sort of establishment with known criminals would be bad for business. Tonight he was draped in the red tag clothing of a common traveling sell-sword.   “This storm is letting up a bit. We may not be stuck here after all.” He plucked the deck of cards from the center of the table and dealt two cards without so much as a glance. Aradir despised the game of “King’s Gambit”, but played because everyone else seemed to enjoy it. In truth, he would enjoy it as well if he ever won a hand. Judging from the off suit pair of cards on the table, tonight wasn’t going to be his night.   Dartimien’s eyes lingered on the cloaked figure standing motionless by the glowing flames in the center of the common room. Their shadow stood out among the others dancing along the walls like a black soulless giant. A shadowy monolith determined to tame the aura of good cheer around it. Slowly the cowl was pulled back revealing the tell tale pointed ears of an elven woman. Her long straight hair, one side an inky black, the other a deep, dark purple dissolved into the shadows around her. As if sensing eyes on her, she stared at Dartimien from the corner of her eye for a moment, then back into the flames. Slowly she backed away from the fire, turned on her heel and joined the others. Lyra Shadowstar quietly took a seat next to Aradir; she shuffled the deck and drew two cards. She winced in pain at the sight of the first card; The Queen of Spades. She turned over the second and revealed it to herself. With an audible gasp she quickly set them both on the top of the deck and slid it back to the center of the table. “Off suit” she whispered. Dartimien frowned, he knew what she had drawn.   Summer took the deck, and glanced between Lyra and Dartimien, in confusion. “Well, that makes it my deal.” She dealt out three cards to everyone at the table, a row of five face down cards, then finally, her three card hand.   Brimstone grumbled at the sight of his hand. He growled “You know you deal from the top of the deck right?” Summer opened her mouth to unleash a torrent of unkind dwarven obscenities but Dartimien raised his voice, interrupting her.   “Now, now, there's no need for that. We’re all friends here.” He dropped a sack of coins on the table, opened it and stacked ten gold coins in front of him. “I’m in.” He waited patiently for some other bets to appear on the table. “Let’s see some coins… then I’ll tell you about the job.”