[identity profile] lanfykins.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] zg_shadows
It was a quiet night at Biers. Mhaire had long since tired of sitting behind an unused bar, and retreated to a comfier bench nearby with a dog-eared novel. Only her occasional glances up at the door and at the two men talking quietly in a corner showed that she was still on duty at all.

They were an odd pair. One was stout and well-dressed, with a ready smile and sympathetic eyes. The other looked like Death, with a capital D. Tall, with ragged robes of some unknown fabric fluttering about the scarred perfection of his limbs, and haggard, burning eyes.

They didn't appear to be demons, though, and they weren't causing any trouble. She returned to her book.

"I do believe you're trying to gain an unfair advantage," the stout man said cheerfully to his brother. "A place where supernaturals are free to be themselves, forsooth!"

"Up to a point," the thin one said quietly, his tone emotionless. "They are all subject to the rather restrictive rules of the owner of this place." With neat and precise movements of his thin fingers, he cut a battered old deck of cards.

"Oh, very well, very well." The stout one waved one heavily-braceletted hand airily, and took another drink of his ale. "I suppose it's your turn to deal?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you must, go on then." Three cards flicked onto the scored wood of the table, and with curiously nimble fingers the stout man flicked them over.

"The Queen of Diamonds, hem?" He picked up the card, twirled it in his fingers a moment, then placed it back on the table to lie, soft-edged and dog-eared, on the scored wood. "Well, that's easy enough." He squinted thoughtfully at the oddly patterned grid of the battered wooden game board that lay between them. "Got it." He reached into his pocket and laid a small figurine, carved out of some semiprecious gemstone, on what was, it now became apparent, a starting square. "Lovely piece. Very reliable. What's your play?"

Scarred fingers placed a little silver figure beside the first. "The same as before."

"Hey, you can't do that," the stout man objected. "You took her out of play fair and square."

"And I brought her back when you overreached yourself trying for a full house. The play is legal."

"Drat." The stout man flicked over the next card. "Oho. The King of Clubs." He grinned.

The ragged man closed his eyes, his expression resembling nothing so much as an all-in gambler who has just seen his opponent pick up all four aces. "I take it you're bringing that thing back into play."

"I should think so, old boy," the stout man said cheerfully as he dropped a golden-crowned marble figurine onto a different square. "As I recall, you're rather weak in clubs, aren't you?"

"Not impossibly so." The thin figure fixed his burning, fanatic's eyes on the game board. "Ah. Yes." With a graceful movement, he placed a small figure in inky black. His opponent's eyes bulged and he sprayed ale over the board as he tried to drink and laugh at the same time.

"Are you nuts? That's one of mine! I've even played him against you!"

"Look closer," said the scarred man with a slight smile. The stout man picked the piece up and examined it.

"Ah. I see. Of course. I'd forgotten about that one. Nowhere near as good as mine, of course, but rather nicer than I was expecting. Well played, sir. I do like an even game."

"I'm so glad." The thin figure held out a hand, and his opponent handed him back the figurine. He replaced it. "Now for the final card."

He turned over the card. They both stared.

"Joker, eh?" the stout man said at last, a note of unaccustomed strain in his voice.

"So it would seem. And I think we can agree on who, can't we?" The ragged figure held out a figure in shining silver that might have been a fox, or a wolf, or a man.

His opponent took it in plump fingers that weren't quite so steady as they had been. His bracelets chimed together with an odd chinking, like heavy iron. "I don't see why you're so pleased about this."

"I was losing. Now, sir. Shall we play?"

Date: 2007-12-13 09:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lawrencegillies.livejournal.com
Seems to Work OK to me.

I'm not sure if I'm missing cues or just dont know enough of what's ging on, but there's no sense of recognition of what or who the pieces represent. As I say, that may be my ignorance rather than anything else.

Date: 2007-12-13 02:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] pmp.livejournal.com
Unfortunately I can get one, I think " fox, or a wolf, or a man." = Jamie??

Other than that I'm lost too

Date: 2007-12-18 11:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wraithwitch.livejournal.com
My vague guesses are that queen of diamonds could be Jade Allen and the king of clubs could be Mithras or some other equally doomy npc. no idea who the little silver or the little black figure is. The joker I'm guessing is Jamie.

It's a very cool piece, and stuck at the beginning of a longer story that slowly made clear who the pieces and the players were it would be perfect. But as it is, it's simply bemusing and unsatisfying because it gives so little away without any resolution. No one likes an impossible puzzle!

Might I suggest further descriptions of the figures or further discussion about the pieces and what they have done in previous turns of play. That way the reader gets more clues, the story is fleshed out a little more but you can still remain vague and have it as a guessing game...

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