Log: High Stakes
Who: "Toothy" Lou, Ch'son
When: Day 10, month 8, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Seedy Bar, Outlying Island, Ista Area
What: Ch'son strikes a deal with Fort's raiders.
Evening, a dive bar out on one of Ista's outlying islands. There's not much in the way of population here, just a few cotholds and the bar where sailors like to put in for some strong drink and 'solid' food between trips out into the deep, or just to drink, because drinking is called for. There's plenty of gaming set up tonight too and along the back of the bar, where there's shadows aplenty, a couple of rough-looking sailors sit, among them a guy missing his four top front teeth.
The bronzerider's entrance to the bar isn't a particularly noteworthy thing. He doesn't even look all that much like a dragonrider, knotless and wearing some of the clothes from his pre-impression days as a sailor. The only thing that might mark him as anyone is the bronze firelizard perching across his shoulders. Chaes stops at the counter to share a few words with the keep and order himself a drink and his gaze is already focusing toward the back of the bar. It's where he heads as soon as he gets his drink, path pretty clearly heading for the sailors.
The keep has been keeping (ha ha) an eye out for Ch'son and squints at that firelizard for a moment as the rider comes in. When that drink is ordered, there's a jerk of his chin, helpful, towards the right table back of yonder even. As the bronzerider approaches, the toothless man turns a little in his chair, regards him narrowly then jerks his chin at one of his compatriots who eels out of his seat and heads elsewhere. Outside even. "Fancy a game of cards?" drawls out "Toothy" Lou, who is anything but.
Watching the one that gets up to head out until he's past him, Ch'son refocuses on Lou with a smile spreading across his face like it was meant to be there. "Never could turn down a game a cards," he admits, moving to settle himself down, putting his glass down, too, once he's taken a drink. The firelizard is being good for the most part and just perched there, watching things and turning his head when anything particularly shiny catches his attention.
"Well now, that sounds a likely way to be to me," Toothy Lou says with a not-so-toothy smile and gestures to the seat across the way, so recently vacated. A deck of cards is duly shuffled with grimy hands. "What's your poison there?" a nod to the mug the rider sports. "And what's your pick for play?" Brows lifted as the cards are showily flicked from one hand to the other.
That seat filled easily by the bronzerider and the lizard there uses the back of it to help make it all a little more comfortable. "Whiskey," he taps the edge of the glass with a fingertip and then offers a suggestion for a game while the lizard settles more on the back of the chair than Ch'son himself. The rider watches Toothy Lou with that same good 'ol boy grin of his. "Unless you gotta better idea."
A grunt of approval is given as Lou starts to flip out cards once the game has been named. "Mm, weeeeelll y'know, it's a good game. But stakes. We ain't talked about stakes yet." And there he goes grinning across the table again. "Heard you might be able to be offerin' some good ones."
His grin goes even more broad and Ch'son even chuckles like maybe he'd forgotten all about that with the prospect of these cards here. "Good stakes," he repeats with a nod of his head and he thinks about that for a moment. He doesn't really look like the brightest star in the sky on his good days. "I think so. Woulda liked 'em for m'self at one time," which makes him look a little nostalgically amused. "Coves. Lotsa coves for storage. And a damned nice market if you're needin' somewhere to put any stuff gettin' stored through."
"And you don't atall now?" Toothy inquires, his look turning shrewd a touch calculating. "Mmm. And what's the price for that?" Brows raised as the man takes up his hand, peruses its contents, swaps one card for another, flips a token into the middle of the table. Appearances after all.
"Don't matter much. It ain't me we're dealin' with, is it?" Ch'son is grinning still. Shrewd isn't really a word many would use to describe the bronzerider and he might miss it in Toothy there. He takes his hand to give it a look over and sort it out a bit then swaps out one, considers and sets the hand back face down to meet the pot. "Safety, for one. Our ships stay untouched. And a cut of whatever goes through our market."
"Could be though, could be you," Lou notes archly and waits to see how the rider plays his cards. "Mmm, safety's definitely a part of what can be offered," the man says a little cagily. "How high of a percentage are we talkin' though?" He makes his next play, upping the ante, face betraying little about the game at least, though he's overt in his scrutiny of Ch'son.
"Could be," Chaes admits but his shrug is dismissive as he picks up his cards again. There's not much there that says anything about his cards anymore than it says he's thinking about what the other man has asked. He could even be consulting as they speak. Dragons are useful creatures. After he meets the pot and raises, he says simpley, "Fourty."
Toothy Lou scratches at his chin, tosses another raise into the pot. "Not much risk for you all in this, could be we could find those coves ourselfs, hm? Were thinkin' more like ... fifteen," the man says and rearranges the cards in his hands with considerable care.
There's hesitation before Ch'son raises again, but he's watching Lou over there rather than considering his cards overly much. The raise comes as he offers instead, "Thirty." He takes a casual drink from the glass he'd brought over from the bar.
Poker face par excellence over in Toothy land and hey, another raise. Either Lou is confident, or bluffing. "Twenty," is the perhaps predictable response as the poker tokens are slid across into the growing pile, his expression deceptively mild.
His glass is set back down carefully and Ch'son doesn't really need much thought to continue. "Twenty," he repeats agreeably. "But we check anything that's goin' through t'make sure it ain't gonna come back t'bite us in the ass." He glances at the pot, so does the firelizard from over his shoulder, and he raises. "Think it's time t'call."
Muddy eyes narrow on Ch'son for a moment then Lou's throat is cleared and he nods. "Twenty. And you can check s'much as you want though we'll do a pass too. Don't want this comin' back to bite anyone after all," he says with a little shrug and then beams across the way toothlessly. "Right you are." And his cards turn over on the table. A reasonably good hand, but beatable.
A look is offered the other hand and the smug expression that crosses his face probably doesn't match the not so terribly awesome hand he sets down. It probably says something about who's money he's playing with here and hints at just how much the bronzerider likes the playing part. "Good game," Chaes says, grinning again and picking up his glass to down the rest.
Collecting the tokens then, with a little pleased grin, Tooth Lou's head bobs. "Sure was," he drawls out, making the pot disappear and then holds his hand out across the table. "We'll need a map or a guide to show us which coves and we'll need to set up a string for deliverin' the goods on through. We'll depot them where they can get picked up, inspected and moved along. The profit cut can get picked up either here or by arrangement no less'n once a month." Brows lift to see if that little bit of the deal will be accepted.
Ch'son watches the tokens disappear for a moment then lifts his gaze to the hand before reaching to take it, grip firm but not overly strong. He offers a nod of his head, too, acceptance, then he's half-rising to pull something out of his pocket. A piece of paper that he unfolds and lays down facing Lou. He points to a small cluster of dots on remote edge of Ista island. "Coves you'll be usin' are 'round here. Don't get too worked up you see a dragon overhead from time t'time."
Looking down with interest after that hand shake, Lou might almost seem to be taking a mental picture of that map. "Mm. Just make sure to keep that a no-fly zone for any but those in the know. Istans," he says, looking up at the bronzerider. "No Fort." He taps the map. "Take this with?"
"Take it," Chaes says about the relatively rough but readable map. "Won't be no Fortians ridin' over my island." Probably in the patriotic sense there. "I'll know anyone over that area. We'll set the rest up soon, aye?" Strings, cuts, etc.
Taken, the map vanishes promptly somewhere into Lou's greasy-looking clothing. There's a little shrewd-eyed look for that 'my island' bit and the 'sailor' gives Ch'son another grin. "Yeah. Will send word," he says airily almost and pushes to his feet. "Pleasure doin' business with you, Chase. Be seein' you I'm sure." Beat. "Or not." With a rough cackle as Lou puts fingers to temple, gives an extremely unconventional 'salute' and turns to go.
When: Day 10, month 8, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Seedy Bar, Outlying Island, Ista Area
What: Ch'son strikes a deal with Fort's raiders.
Evening, a dive bar out on one of Ista's outlying islands. There's not much in the way of population here, just a few cotholds and the bar where sailors like to put in for some strong drink and 'solid' food between trips out into the deep, or just to drink, because drinking is called for. There's plenty of gaming set up tonight too and along the back of the bar, where there's shadows aplenty, a couple of rough-looking sailors sit, among them a guy missing his four top front teeth.
The bronzerider's entrance to the bar isn't a particularly noteworthy thing. He doesn't even look all that much like a dragonrider, knotless and wearing some of the clothes from his pre-impression days as a sailor. The only thing that might mark him as anyone is the bronze firelizard perching across his shoulders. Chaes stops at the counter to share a few words with the keep and order himself a drink and his gaze is already focusing toward the back of the bar. It's where he heads as soon as he gets his drink, path pretty clearly heading for the sailors.
The keep has been keeping (ha ha) an eye out for Ch'son and squints at that firelizard for a moment as the rider comes in. When that drink is ordered, there's a jerk of his chin, helpful, towards the right table back of yonder even. As the bronzerider approaches, the toothless man turns a little in his chair, regards him narrowly then jerks his chin at one of his compatriots who eels out of his seat and heads elsewhere. Outside even. "Fancy a game of cards?" drawls out "Toothy" Lou, who is anything but.
Watching the one that gets up to head out until he's past him, Ch'son refocuses on Lou with a smile spreading across his face like it was meant to be there. "Never could turn down a game a cards," he admits, moving to settle himself down, putting his glass down, too, once he's taken a drink. The firelizard is being good for the most part and just perched there, watching things and turning his head when anything particularly shiny catches his attention.
"Well now, that sounds a likely way to be to me," Toothy Lou says with a not-so-toothy smile and gestures to the seat across the way, so recently vacated. A deck of cards is duly shuffled with grimy hands. "What's your poison there?" a nod to the mug the rider sports. "And what's your pick for play?" Brows lifted as the cards are showily flicked from one hand to the other.
That seat filled easily by the bronzerider and the lizard there uses the back of it to help make it all a little more comfortable. "Whiskey," he taps the edge of the glass with a fingertip and then offers a suggestion for a game while the lizard settles more on the back of the chair than Ch'son himself. The rider watches Toothy Lou with that same good 'ol boy grin of his. "Unless you gotta better idea."
A grunt of approval is given as Lou starts to flip out cards once the game has been named. "Mm, weeeeelll y'know, it's a good game. But stakes. We ain't talked about stakes yet." And there he goes grinning across the table again. "Heard you might be able to be offerin' some good ones."
His grin goes even more broad and Ch'son even chuckles like maybe he'd forgotten all about that with the prospect of these cards here. "Good stakes," he repeats with a nod of his head and he thinks about that for a moment. He doesn't really look like the brightest star in the sky on his good days. "I think so. Woulda liked 'em for m'self at one time," which makes him look a little nostalgically amused. "Coves. Lotsa coves for storage. And a damned nice market if you're needin' somewhere to put any stuff gettin' stored through."
"And you don't atall now?" Toothy inquires, his look turning shrewd a touch calculating. "Mmm. And what's the price for that?" Brows raised as the man takes up his hand, peruses its contents, swaps one card for another, flips a token into the middle of the table. Appearances after all.
"Don't matter much. It ain't me we're dealin' with, is it?" Ch'son is grinning still. Shrewd isn't really a word many would use to describe the bronzerider and he might miss it in Toothy there. He takes his hand to give it a look over and sort it out a bit then swaps out one, considers and sets the hand back face down to meet the pot. "Safety, for one. Our ships stay untouched. And a cut of whatever goes through our market."
"Could be though, could be you," Lou notes archly and waits to see how the rider plays his cards. "Mmm, safety's definitely a part of what can be offered," the man says a little cagily. "How high of a percentage are we talkin' though?" He makes his next play, upping the ante, face betraying little about the game at least, though he's overt in his scrutiny of Ch'son.
"Could be," Chaes admits but his shrug is dismissive as he picks up his cards again. There's not much there that says anything about his cards anymore than it says he's thinking about what the other man has asked. He could even be consulting as they speak. Dragons are useful creatures. After he meets the pot and raises, he says simpley, "Fourty."
Toothy Lou scratches at his chin, tosses another raise into the pot. "Not much risk for you all in this, could be we could find those coves ourselfs, hm? Were thinkin' more like ... fifteen," the man says and rearranges the cards in his hands with considerable care.
There's hesitation before Ch'son raises again, but he's watching Lou over there rather than considering his cards overly much. The raise comes as he offers instead, "Thirty." He takes a casual drink from the glass he'd brought over from the bar.
Poker face par excellence over in Toothy land and hey, another raise. Either Lou is confident, or bluffing. "Twenty," is the perhaps predictable response as the poker tokens are slid across into the growing pile, his expression deceptively mild.
His glass is set back down carefully and Ch'son doesn't really need much thought to continue. "Twenty," he repeats agreeably. "But we check anything that's goin' through t'make sure it ain't gonna come back t'bite us in the ass." He glances at the pot, so does the firelizard from over his shoulder, and he raises. "Think it's time t'call."
Muddy eyes narrow on Ch'son for a moment then Lou's throat is cleared and he nods. "Twenty. And you can check s'much as you want though we'll do a pass too. Don't want this comin' back to bite anyone after all," he says with a little shrug and then beams across the way toothlessly. "Right you are." And his cards turn over on the table. A reasonably good hand, but beatable.
A look is offered the other hand and the smug expression that crosses his face probably doesn't match the not so terribly awesome hand he sets down. It probably says something about who's money he's playing with here and hints at just how much the bronzerider likes the playing part. "Good game," Chaes says, grinning again and picking up his glass to down the rest.
Collecting the tokens then, with a little pleased grin, Tooth Lou's head bobs. "Sure was," he drawls out, making the pot disappear and then holds his hand out across the table. "We'll need a map or a guide to show us which coves and we'll need to set up a string for deliverin' the goods on through. We'll depot them where they can get picked up, inspected and moved along. The profit cut can get picked up either here or by arrangement no less'n once a month." Brows lift to see if that little bit of the deal will be accepted.
Ch'son watches the tokens disappear for a moment then lifts his gaze to the hand before reaching to take it, grip firm but not overly strong. He offers a nod of his head, too, acceptance, then he's half-rising to pull something out of his pocket. A piece of paper that he unfolds and lays down facing Lou. He points to a small cluster of dots on remote edge of Ista island. "Coves you'll be usin' are 'round here. Don't get too worked up you see a dragon overhead from time t'time."
Looking down with interest after that hand shake, Lou might almost seem to be taking a mental picture of that map. "Mm. Just make sure to keep that a no-fly zone for any but those in the know. Istans," he says, looking up at the bronzerider. "No Fort." He taps the map. "Take this with?"
"Take it," Chaes says about the relatively rough but readable map. "Won't be no Fortians ridin' over my island." Probably in the patriotic sense there. "I'll know anyone over that area. We'll set the rest up soon, aye?" Strings, cuts, etc.
Taken, the map vanishes promptly somewhere into Lou's greasy-looking clothing. There's a little shrewd-eyed look for that 'my island' bit and the 'sailor' gives Ch'son another grin. "Yeah. Will send word," he says airily almost and pushes to his feet. "Pleasure doin' business with you, Chase. Be seein' you I'm sure." Beat. "Or not." With a rough cackle as Lou puts fingers to temple, gives an extremely unconventional 'salute' and turns to go.