Dol Amroth, about 12 years ago
The young sailor stepped off the ship onto the docks, pausing a moment for her legs to adjust to the motionless pavement of the port. Gulls circled overhead and a light breeze carried the sounds of the bustling city. She grinned, patting the dice in her vest, and headed into town to find a tavern.
The tavern was dimly lit, and she glanced around its smoky interior with a keen eye as the barkeep poured her ale. A small group of locals to one side of the room hunched over a table, intent on a game of cards. She grinned to herself. Easy pickings.
Tossing a coin to the barkeep as he handed her the ale, she began to make her way across the room, slipping between tables of smelly drunk patrons.
“Well, if it ain’t the girlie who just made third mate!” The jauntily dressed dandy made “girlie” sound like a curse.
She glared at him. “What do you want?”
He plopped a small purse on the table with a jangle of coin and brandished a deck of cards. “Maybe you’d care to join me for a game of cards, Rennie?” He grinned, teeth flashing in a predatorial smile. “Just got my own fleet of fancy new ships and want to celebrate.”
This fool deserves to be taken down a notch.
“It’s Ren, not ‘Rennie’.” She took a seat at the table, plunking her ale down on its worn surface. With her free hand, she loosened her dagger in its hip scabbard. “Well, are ye going to deal or not?”
He made a face but began to deal the cards. She sipped on her ale casually, watching his hands as he dealt.
They played a round, then another, then a few more. He chugged his ale and ordered more in a rough tone from the maid, she drank hers slowly and only took large swigs when he was looking. He won some rounds, she won some rounds. As the stakes grew higher and bets were raised, he won more. His hands were quick with the cards, but not too quick for her to miss a few tricks.
She tilted her chair back and glanced around the inn.
“Giving up already?”
She mock-pouted at him. “Perhaps a little tired of losing. Could I deal for a bit?” She gave him a coy smile, shuddering internally.
He laughed and handed her the deck, though the smile did not reach his eyes.
Her hands were faster than his, but she was more subtle. He still won plenty, honestly at times, but when the cards did not go his way, she caught a few of his sleights of hand. Even so, each time, just as he’d get ready the pot with the last of her coin, she’d win the next hand and scoop away victory.
His face got redder and redder and his speech slurred a bit as he demanded, “Another card! And don’t you try to pull anything on me, girlie.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’m getting tired of this… what do you say we raise the stakes?”
His eyes narrowed and he took a glance at his hand, then smiled in what she supposed he thought resembled devilish charm. “What d’you shay to one ‘a my ships agin your commishun? I win, you come work for my fleet.” He cackled. “You win --” He made a dismissive gesture “-- you get a pick of one’a my ships.”
“Bet.” She pulled her commission from the satchel at her hip and placed it on the pile of coin. He matched it with a deed for his shipyard.
He made a move to continue the game, but she held up a hand and waved over a guardsman who had just walked in, giving him a winning smile. “Sir, could ye do us a quick favor? This game’s high stakes and I’d value another eye to make sure there’s no cheating.”
The guard shrugged. “Always happy to help a lady.”
The arrogant dandy glared at her but they continued the game. He revealed what would have been a winning hand, and reached for the pot with a leer, but her hands had been too fast for even the watchful guard to catch.
“I’ll take that, actually.” He looked stunned, mouth opening and closing like a fish. She smiled sweetly again.
“Time for me to pick a ship now, I think.”
