DG: The Deadly Gambit Story Contest

[kaballoi]

DG: The Deadly Gambit

Short Story Contest for Fall Festival 2015
Hosted by the Vanguard

Theme:
Dressed in your best Fall Festival costume, you wander down a dark alley in Dundee and stumble upon a shady establishment. A dubious, hunched back character smiles wordlessly as he opens a door, his breath punget and cold upon your face as he bids you "welcome." The den is filled with the most amazing group of creatures, all making bets and rolling the bones. Things don't seem too odd until you realise what you assumed were fellow adventurers are...well...appearances can be deceptive, can't they?

Will luck be your lady this marc? Place your bets in the Deadly Gambit.

Contest Rules
> One entry per character.
> Story must be IC (in character).
> Story length - between 500 and 1500 words.
> At the end of your story please include your Character Name and Character number. (Prizes will not be awarded without these included.)

Contest runs through the end of Fall Festival.
Saturday, November 7th at Midnight PST (Pacific standard time).

PRIZES:
First Place: 2000 plat
Second Place: 1000 plat
Third Place: 500 plat

Judging will take place after the end of Fall Festival. Winners will be notified via PM.

Kaballoi
http://www.darkgrimoire.com/cshow93482.html

[Olivia Pratt]

I stopped as I got closer to the group, frozen with shock. How could I have missed the horrid stench coming from that crowd? From a distance the gathering appeared to be a perfectly normal bunch of gambling adventurers. As I got closer however, I saw badly mishapen faces, hunched spines, hands covered with open sores and hair falling out in clumps. The gaming table was littered with pieces of flesh and a few rotting yellowish eyeballs were scattered here and there.

I was in a room full of Zombie Adventurers!

The End.

Olivia Pratt
http://www.darkgrimoire.com/cshow193669.html

[Lycidius Harrowblade]

The Deadly Gambit

The weathered and creaky door opened with much protest as the hunched fellow admitted me to the odd establishment. The group inside this building wore costumes of the finest quality for Fall Fest. The zombie’s wounds looked like they had actually been inflicted by some great weapon of war in a previous life. The bewitching dryad’s skin seemed to be made of the finest carved wood, and the Sea Dweller’s glistening scales glimmered in such a way that I thought my hand might come away soaked if I were to touch them. Costumes of such quality must have cost a fortune, or at least, money which seemed sorely misplaced in such a dingy, run down building.

“Thank you kindly”, I replied to the hunched doorman, breaking the stunned silence that had come over me as I took in the sights before me.
“All bets are final. Once begun, you may not back out . . . “ He stated in a somewhat groaning voice. With a polite nod I entered the establishment, moving across to a nearby dice table. Here I found a person in a peculiar water spider costume that seemed to have fully functioning legs, quite remarkable! Across from the spider sat a player in a gator costume. The mouth hung slightly open, exposing dozens of perfectly defective false teeth, and a sickly pink gullet that smelt faintly of the Dundee sewers which could only be rivaled in authenticity by the green scales which covered his body.
“Your costumes are all wonderfully made! Where on earth did you find them?”, I asked one of the spectators to the game, a Ranch Hand who had clearly passed on. He looked me up and down with a frown and shook his head before returning his attentions to the game.
“I -”, the gator began, pausing with a sickly slurping sound as his massive tongue shifted over his teeth . . . Something that seemed almost too realistic for a costume.
“-see your Dessicated Corpse and raise you a Drowned Captain.” He spoke with a deep guttural voice and his speech only worsened the sewer smell as his great jaws moved in time with the words. The spider simply nodded, agreeing to the bet it seemed. The spider lifted a small wooden cup in a pair of its costumed appendages, what I assumed were the main ones, and shook it, tossing the pair of dice into the edged table. The dice rattled around the table before they settled on their respective numbers, a three and a five. Everyone around the table remained silent as the gator lifted a similar cup with its hand and tossed the dice into the arena. The dice span, rolled and jigged around the table, propelled by the force of the throw, before they settled. Double ones. A shout rang out around the table, “Snake Eyes!” The creatures yelled in a plethora of strange voices. The gator yelled in anger and left the table, followed by the spider, intent on claiming its prize.

It was then that a man wearing a black suit and dress cape sat down in the spider’s seat. Over his head rested a carved pumpkin which glowed eerily from within. He turned to me and gestured to the seat across from him,
“Care to try your luck in a game of dice my friend?”
He asked with a chuckle. I couldn’t help but grin as I took the seat, luck and dice had always gone hand in hand for me, and I was feeling quite excited for this game.
“What is the wager then?”
I asked curiously as the man across the table inspected the dice and placed them in his cup.
“Hmm . . . Perhaps we should start small? 100 platinum pieces.”
He said. I assumed he was smiling behind his pumpkin mask, but it was impossible to tell with the eerie light emanating from the carved face. I was shocked at first, clearly I had been right about the costumes if they thought 100 platinum was a small bet.
“Agreed!” I replied rather too eagerly as I picked up my cup. He rolled first, three and four. Not bad, but not good either. I followed, five and six, excellent!
“I’ll be taking that 100 platinum sir.” I replied with a smirk as I picked up, noticing for the first time the oddly pale, light and smooth material. It seemed ominously like the bones I had found after defeating a few Gator Crocs. The stranger across the table sighed and nodded as he collected his dice,
“Indeed, indeed. but perhaps you would care to go double or nothing? I have a fine sword I could add to the wager. In exchange you could bet your weapon.” He replied, placing his exquisite rapier upon the table. I smiled as I removed my enchanted broadsword and placed it upon the table,
“That sounds agreeable.” I replied politely and rolled my dice first. Four and five. A great roll in all honesty. The stranger threw his dice, collecting a mediocre two and three. I shouted triumphantly as he passed his sword around the table with a further sigh.
“Perhaps you would humour me with one more game.” He asked in a tired tone, “This time, I would like to bet a Change of Personas.” He said, drawing hushed whispers from the crowd. A change of personas? Perhaps he meant our costumes. I would gladly bet mine against his, such exquisite craftsmanship.
“I agree.” I stated, causing the crowd to gasp in disbelief. Were they that obsessed with their outfits? Perhaps.

A man dressed as a Zombie Archeologist handed me my cup of dice, but as I took it gratefully from his hand his arm fell off, revealing old, necrotic flesh and real blood. I nearly gagged in response and gazed up at him in shock.
“Y-You’re a real zombie!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. He simply returned my gaze and laughed,
“Of course, we are all real. But don’t worry about that, you just bet your head against the headless horseman.” He stated calmly. I stared at him and then to the headless horseman in shock as he shook his dice cup.
“You said nothing of heads!”
“I proposed a change of persona. If you win, you get my head . . . “ He said cheerily, removing the pumpkin from his neck, revealing a decapitated neck with nothing atop it. “And, if I win. . . I get yours.” He stated with exceptional malice.
“I don’t agree with this bet!” I protested, before a shout from the table silenced me.
“ALL BETS ARE FINAL!” The horseman turned to face me, and I could have sworn his pumpkin sneered. He rolled his dice. The small white cubes cascading onto the table as they tumbled and bounced, landing on a one and a two. I could scarcely contain the guffaw of contempt which rose to my throat as I picked up my dice cup.
“Your turn.” The horseman barked bitterly. I nodded and rolled, suddenly not too perturbed by the bet. My dice fell to the table and rolled far more than his, ricocheting off the table edges and back to the center as they spun. As they settled everyone craned over the table to see the result. Silence enveloped the table as we all stared at the table. After almost a quarter of a marc, a swamp viper hissed two words.

“Sssnake Eyesss”.

Lycidius Harrowblade
http://www.darkgrimoire.com/cshow193741.html
193741

[Olivia Pratt]

oooo that's a wonderful story Lycidius! *smiles and claps her hands*

[Lycidius Harrowblade]

oooo that's a wonderful story Lycidius! *smiles and claps her hands*

Thank you, I do so love telling stories.

[Doyle]

MIght be cutting this close... Also possibly taking a slight liberty with the set up

*************************************************

Doyle strides into the gambling den, the sounds and smells elicit ancient memories. Peering through the haze of smoke that always seems to permeate the air of such establishments he is drawn towards a table near the back, raucous laughter and the occasional curse of bad luck is all he can hear coming from the five indivduals there.

One of the them turns around and waves cheerily. His heart almost stops in shock as he looks upon the young man calling him over. Before he can turn to exit he is addressed.

"Hey, big brother! Come join us, we've been waiting forever for you to get here."

His legs move towards the table, seemingly against his will, it takes all his willpower to tear his eyes away from the young man wearing his brother's face to look at the other men and women around the table. All were familier, but none should be here... the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as his instinct sensed the danger he was in.

"C'mon Sarge... we've been saving a special game jus' fer ya. Nuthin' complicated either. Ya jus' gotta roll tha die like old times," boomed the largest occupant, the familer voice lacking all the remembered warmth.

"I think I shall pass, I try not to gamble when it can be avoided."

This statement prompted some dry laughter and a snort of derision from a slim women sat opposite.

"You hear that guys? He don't gamble no more... wish he'd made that choice back when he was in charge of giving us orders in battle. Reckon we might have gotten to grow old like him."

"Might have gotten ta see me boy grow up," grumbled the large man.

"Would have loved a chance to get some fancy armour and weapons," groused another woman with several missing teeth.

"Sorry bro, but you don't have a choice here. We either get to gamble with your life like you did ours, or you simply don't leave."

Doyle pushes away from the table as he stands up, his pulse racing.

"This is insane, you are all dead. I saw you all fall in battle, we did the right thing and we all paid the price..."

"Some more then others."

"and I would give my life for all of you if I could, but we cannot change the past."

The brother stood up with a sigh, shaking his head.

"We thought you might say that. Sorry for this...," he said as he plunged a dagger into Doyle's heart.

He bolts upright, covered in cold sweat and looks around to see he is in his bunk. Getting dressed and donning his armour he mutters to himself.

"And people wonder why I do not sleep..."

[Dimitri Petrov]

((I apparently hit preview instead of submit....so I understand if my entry is too late.))

Dimitri whistled his usual pirate ditty as he did, in fact, stumble into the doorway of the shady establishment. It had been marcs since he left Dundee Inn, failing at his attempts to return to his guest room in the RoK halls thanks to numerous ales after a long, difficult turn.

The doorman must have mistaken it for a knock because the door opened and he found himself planted face first into the hunched man. "Woops." He slanted a grin up and patted the man's shoulder as he righted himself. "So sorry 'bou' tha'. Rough turn. Ye un'erstand aye?" His hand fished around in his own pockets for a few coins to push to the man.

"Welcome." The man hissed beneath his large, shadow casting hat. Dimitri blinked rapdily; the ale hadn't knocked him over, but the man's breath just might!

"Whoo!" He ducked his head and held up a single finger as if pausing the man's words, "Oi, have ye considered chewin' a sprig o' mint?" The man growled and Dimitri, perhaps sobering for just a split-marc, parted with more coin for the man. "Righ'," The soused Scoundrel peered back towards the doorway, "Jus' poin' me'n the direction'a Milltown'n I be'n me way, aye?" He pivoted to face the door and leaned against it heavily to keep himself from falling over.

The man sneered with yellow crooked teeth, "You won't join us for dice?"

"Dice?" Dimitri's eyes widened and his free hand twitched, fingers balling up to a fist to suppress it. He turned back to the crowd and squinted at them, slightly fuzzy things that they were to him. "S'pose a game wouldn' hur'."

He managed his way to an empty table and sat in it heavily. He scarcely looked up at who joined him across the table until a lilting voice called to him, "Oh my, who knew my opponent would look...so delicious."

Not one to disappointed the lasses by choice, he slanted a grin and tilted his head up. The woman was wrapped in a cloak, her delicate amber-colored hands and face exposed. Her dark hair was drawn back into a plump braid cast down her back. Heavy lashes fluttered at him over turquoise eyes and she smiled sweetly at him. "Play with me?"

Dimitri nodded numbly, a smug grin forming on his face, "Course, lass. Name's Dimitri. Wha's yer name?"

"Padmavati." She leaned forward and slid her hands across the table. He was almost certain he saw something swish behind her in the darkness, but it quickly slipped from his mind.

"Tha's t' lon'." He groused before he took the liberty of shortening it, "Vati."

The woman trilled a laugh. "Vati? I like the sound of that. What should we play for? Hmm?" She drew the sound long and pressed her lips together, "A man such as yourself isn't lacking in attention, I assume?"

The scoundrel's face scrunched at that, "Nae. T' much. Wish tha' would stop sometimes."

Her lids drew heavy over her vibrant eyes, "That can be arranged. I'll relieve you of your burdens of affection if you win?"

Dimitri's blue eyes squinted in skepticism and he shook his head, "Need t' figure me own thin' out. 'Preciate tha' offer."

Padmavati's lips shifted to a frown over her pointy teeth and she entwined her scaled fingers. "Perhaps" She started slowly and eyed his neck, "If I win. Might I add my burden of affection?" She paused as she saw the twist of the scoundrel's face. When his face didn't ease, she frowned and withdrew a hand to her cloak, "I've jewels in return." Her long tail swished behind her in the dark of the room.

The heavy sack that hit the table between them drew his attention and the radiant reflections made him nod. "Aye." His hand sought his own dice quickly. His dice rolled quick and settled on dual fours. He leaned forward to slant a calm grin at the woman, his eyes peering behind her again. His hand rested on the table near his dice in preparation for his flight.

Padmavati smiled as her own dice flew out and clattered next to his. The smile faded, a two and a three. She couldn't let her prey escape her. She took a breath and started, "What about-." Her vibrant eyes flashed to the scoundrel who had hopped from his seat and snatched both dice and prize. "Where are you going?!"

Padmavati knocked the table over as she slithered towards the, literally, dashing scoundrel. Dimitri turned at the door and dragged it shut, Padmavati's tail slithering through enough to prevent it shutting. "Sorry, Vati!" He called to her, attempting to close the door despite the wedge. "Take ye out fer dinner 'nother time aye?"

"Dimitri!" The naga screeched at him, "You wouldn't turn down double or nothing would you?!" She wanted to squeeze the life out of the poor scoundrel.

He swallowed heavily as his grip on the door faltered and he repeated uncertainly, "Double er nothin'?"

[Olivia Pratt]

*laughs* ooo I liked both stories! Those were just wonderful additions! *claps her hands with delight*

[kaballoi]

Thank you to those that entered your stories. I enjoyed every one of them.

And the winners are.....

1st Place: Lycidius Harrowblade
2nd Place: Doyle
3rd Place: Dimitri Petrov
and
Horrorable Mention: Olivia Pratt

Please contact me in-game to collect your prizes.

Again, thank you so much for your participation and making Fall Festival that much more fun.

Kabs