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>> No.23704000 [View]
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23704000

>>23696938
>The tavern was called the Pathfinder’s Gambit, though its patrons referred to it as ‘the Armpit’, or simply just ‘the Pit’, on account of its stale odour and the fact its interior rarely saw sunlight. The Pit had a particular reputation for violence and tonight had proven no exception. The evening’s current tally stood at three assaults (two stabbings and an attempted strangulation), two brawls, and– so far, at least– just the one death. Still, the night was young, the drink was flowing, and half the card games taking place in the tavern’s smoke-filled common room were rigged. It was only a matter of time before someone else took a blade between the ribs.

>Could be me if I’m not careful, Lukan Gardova mused, eyeing the small pile of coins he’d won over the past half-hour. The Pit’s one saving grace was that it was an excellent place to win a bit of silver, and it was for this reason that Lukan found himself sitting at a table with several companions of dubious virtue, drinking gin of dubious quality, and holding two cards of dubious value. Peasant of Crowns and a Priest of Blades, he thought, studying the faded illustrations. Bloody hells. It was a miserable hand, but that didn’t matter. In rummijake you played your opponents first and your cards second.

>> No.21793447 [View]
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21793447

>>21789861
>are we doomed to be contempted
>I'm majoring in classics and like studying ancient languages

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