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
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