They reached the front entrance, and a footman opened the thick and heavy wooden doors for them. They came into an elevated entrance alcove, with stone steps leading down to the main floor of the gaming house. The entire first floor of the building was one cavernous room in which people of all descriptions mingled, moving among the gaming tables. There was a long bar at the back, extending the length of the entire room. Behind and in front of the bar were a number of elevated stages, where dancers without a single stitch of clothing gyrated provocatively while musicians played. The pungent odor of exotic smoke hung thickly in the air, and there were excited shouts and woeful cries coming from the tables, where coins were won and lost as quickly as the dice were thrown.
“So, what do you think of my establishment?” asked Krysta, giving Sorak’s arm a gentle squeeze.
Sorak felt apprehension among the others of the tribe, all save Kivara, who was thrilled by the palpable energy that permeated the room. “What sort of games do they play here?” she asked excitedly. “I want to try them! I want to try them all!”
“Patience,” Sorak counseled her silently. Then, aloud, he said, “I have never seen anything like it.”
“There is a great deal more here than what you see,” said Krysta in a tone that promised tantalizing revelations. “Let me show you around.”
She removed her cloak and handed it to a footman. Beneath it, she wore barely enough for modesty. She had on a pair of low, black boots made from the shiny hide of a z’tal. Her long legs were bare all the way up to the short, black, wraparound skirt she wore, made from the same skin as the boots and cut slanted, so that it came down to mid-thigh on one side and left the other leg completely bare almost to her waist. A matching black halter top barely covered her breasts, leaving her entire back bare. Around her waist, she wore a belt of gold coins interconnected with fine links of silver chain, and several necklaces and amulets adorned her throat, as well as gold circlets around her wrists and arms. As she handed her cloak to the footman, she watched Sorak for a reaction. A flicker of puzzlement and then annoyance passed over her features briefly when he did not react as most males did. The footman lingered a moment, but when he saw that Sorak did not intend to remove his cloak, he backed away.
Clearly, Krysta enjoyed making an entrance, and this time she could make it on the arm of an exotic-looking stranger with a full-grown tigone at his side. As they descended the stone steps, many of the patrons turned to point and stare at them, but others were so intent on their games they didn’t even notice. As they made their way between the tables, patrons hastily moved back, and not a few of them cried out and dropped their drinks at the sight of Tigra. Krysta was enjoying every minute of it as she escorted Sorak toward the bar.
“May I offer you a drink?” she asked, snapping her fingers. An elvish female behind the bar instantly moved toward them. “Thank you,” Sorak said.
“Bring us two goblets of our best spiced mead, Alora.”
“Yes, my lady.”
A moment later, she set two tall ceramic goblets on the bar before them. Krysta took one for herself and handed the other to Sorak. “To new experiences,” she said with a smile, and raised her goblet, touching it lightly to his. As she drank, Sorak brought the goblet up to his lips, sniffed tentatively, and took a taste. He made a face and set the goblet back down on the bar. Krysta looked surprised. “It does not meet with your approval?”
“I would prefer water.”
“Water,” Krysta repeated, as if she wasn’t sure she heard correctly. She sighed. “My friend would prefer water, Alora.”
“Yes, my lady.” She took the goblet back, and came back with one filled with cool well water. Sorak sipped it, then took a deep gulp, emptying half of it.
“Is that more to your liking?” Krysta asked mockingly.
“It is not as fresh as mountain spring water, but better than that sticky syrup,” Sorak said.
“Spiced mead of the rarest and most expensive vintage, and you call it sticky syrup.” Krysta shook her head. “You are different, I will say that for you.”
“Forgive me,” Sorak said, “I did not wish to offend.”
“Oh, you did not offend me,” Krysta said. “It is simply that I have never met anyone else quite like you.”
“I do not know if there is anyone else quite like me,” Sorak replied.
“You may be right,” said Krysta. “I have never even heard of such a thing as an elfling before. Tell me of your parents.”
“I do not remember them. As a child, I was cast out into the desert and left to die. I have no memory of anything before that.”
“And yet you survived,” said Krysta. “How?”
“I somehow managed to make my way to the foothills of the Ringing Mountains,” Sorak said. Tigra found me. He was merely a cub then. He had been separated from his pride, so we were both abandoned, in a sense. Perhaps that is why he formed a bond with me. We were both lost and alone.”
“And he protected you,” said Krysta. “But there is still only so much a tigone cub could do. How did you manage to survive?”
“I was found by a pyreen, who cared for me and nursed me back to health,” Sorak said.
“A pyreen!” said Krysta. “I have never known anyone who has actually met one of the peace-bringers, much less been raised by one!”
“Take care, Sorak,” said the Guardian. “This female asks much, yet offers little in return.”
“You have still told me nothing of yourself,” said Sorak, noting the warning.
“Oh, I am sure my story is nowhere near as interesting as yours,” she replied.
“Nevertheless, I would like to hear it,” Sorak said. “How did a young and beautiful half-elf come to be the proprietor of such a place?” Krysta smiled. “Would you like me to show you?”
“Show me?”
“After all,” she said, “you did not come to a gaming house just to talk, did you?”
She took him by the arm and led him toward one of the tables. Sorak saw how the people at the table instantly made room for her. He also saw a number of large, armed guards spread out around the room, watching the tables carefully. And the ones nearest them never took their eyes from Krysta.
The table they approached had a sunken surface, with sides of polished wood. The flat surface of the table was covered with smooth, black z’tal skin. At the table stood a game lord with a wooden stick that had a curved scoop at the end. As the gamers tossed dice onto the table, he announced the scores and then retrieved the dice by scooping them back with the wooden stick. Sorak saw that the dice were all different. One was triangular, made in the shape of a pyramid with a flat bottom. Three numbers were painted on each of the four triangular sides, in such a manner that only one would be right-side up when the die fell. Another die was cube-shaped, with one number painted on each side, while two others were shaped like diamonds, one with eight sides and the other with ten. Two more dice were carved into shapes that were almost round, except that they were faceted with flat sides. One of these had twelve sides and the other had twenty.
“I have never played this game before,” he said to Krysta.
“Truly?” she replied with surprise. “This is my first time in a gaming house,” he said. “Well, then we shall have to educate you,” said Krysta with a smile. “This game is really very simple. It is called Hawke’s Gambit, after the bard who invented it. You will note that each of the dice is different. The number of sides they have determines the wager. Each round of play consists of six passes. On the first, only the triangular die is used. It has four sides, therefore, the wager is four ceramic pieces, which go into the pot. On the second pass, both the triangular and the square dice are thrown. The square die has six sides, so added to the four sides of the first die, the wager on this pass is ten ceramics, or one silver piece. On the third pass, the eight-sided die is added, so that now three are thrown, and the wager is increased to eighteen ceramic pieces, or one silver and eight ceramics. On the fourth pass, the ten-sided die is added, and now four dice are thrown. The wager on this pass is twenty-eight ceramics, or two silver pieces and eight ceramics. The fifth pass adds the twelve-sided die, so that now five dice are thrown, and the wager increases by twelve to a total of forty ceramics, or four silver pieces. And on the final pass, the twenty-sided die is added, so that you throw all six dice together and the wager goes up to six silver pieces. Each time a pass is made, the score is totaled, and the winner takes the pot. If the losers wish a chance to make good their loss, they must risk the amount of the next wager, or else drop out of the round and wait for the next one to begin.”