Saiden whistled as he made his way down to the shrine in the port. It was a popular spot, but at this early hour of the morning, with mist rising from the ocean, it was empty. The cook had a bag in his hands filled with knucklebones, which rattled slightly as he walked.
Arriving at the small statue, he rubbed the hands and the feet of it for good luck. Then he set the bag down and knelt beside the shrine. [say]"Ludo, I wanted to ask for your help with something."[/say] With that, the Hali held his breath as he waited to see what, if anything, would show up.
[say]"Ah, ya want Ludo's help, do ya, lad?"[/say]
If Saiden turns to face the voice, he will see a gruff and weathered older man glaring at him, wearing what might generously be referred to as a kilt and very little else. The man's skin has taken on the leathery quality one only gets when they've spent their life being sunburnt again and again and again, and his eyes glow a wicked shade of gold not unlike the reflection of the sun on the sea. He scoffs at Saiden, giving the cook a critical once-over. [say]"Gotta do better'n rub some feet if ya want a god's attention."[/say]
Turning to face the old man that spoke, Saiden grinned. [say]"Aye is that so?"[/say] He took in the stranger's golden eyes. Arching an eyebrow, the cook laughed. [say]"Am I supposed to rub something else then? That seems more like a Frey thing."[/say]
Scratching the back of his head, he shrugged. [say]"Well, since Ludo didn't show, would you like to play instead?"[/say] Reaching out, the Hali plucked the bag of knucklebones he'd brought for the god. Holding it out to the other man, Saiden winked. [say]"Or maybe ye'd like a foot rub like I gave the statue."[/say] Still smiling, he cocked his head to one side.
[say]"Ya seem more like Frey's type, anyway,"[/say] the man retorts, still scowling. [say]"Grinnin' like it's a gods damned personality trait, only feelin' shit physically stead'a emotionally. Whaddya want from Ludo, anyway?"[/say]
Still, the man plops down into the sand, extending his hand for the game. He looks almost younger, though that's impossible, right? It must just be a remnant, or the way the sun's hitting his face, but Saiden will have the distinct impression that the man was not unhandsome, once.
[say]"How 'bout we make this interestin'? You win, I'll give ya somethin' shiny. I win, ya give me... somethin' ya won't miss. Let's say yer eye."[/say] His own gold ones glitter enticingly, daring Saiden to accept the bet.
Shrugging, Saiden glanced at the shrine. [say]"Appearances can be deceiving."[/say] Grin not faltering, he rubbed his hands together. [say]"I was gonna ask it for somethin' to help me hide from view,"[/say] he admitted to the golden-eyed stranger. The cook narrowed his eyes at the other man. [say]"Why do ye want to know?"[/say]
The Hali shook his head at the proposed deal. [say]"I'd miss my eye. So no deal. But somethin' else that I wouldn't miss, that I'd wager."[/say] Patting the hilt of his cutlass, he nodded. [say]"Somethin' shiny for somethin' shiny perhaps?"[/say] He slid the sword a little out of its sheath and twisted it so it caught the sun.
Holding out the bag, he smirked. [say]"I'll play regardless."[/say] He shook the bag, causing the knucklebones to rattle inside.
[say]"What need have I of yer little knife?"[/say] From seemingly thin air the man produces a cutlass of his own, clearly superior in every way, its blade wickedly sharp and slick with what is unmistakably venom.
Then he shrug, and sheathes it again. [say]"Tell ya what. I'm feelin' generous. Eye or hand. Final offer, or are ya too chickenshit?"[/say]
As the stranger produced a blade of his own, Saiden arched an eyebrow. Sliding his own cutlass back into its sheath, he examined the other man's sword. Then he nodded. [say]"Guess ye don't."[/say] He glanced up from the weapon to meet those impossibly golden eyes again.
Hesitating for just a moment, the cook shrugged. [say]"Eye."[/say] Trying to ignore the fingers of worry and dread curling in his gut, he rattled the bag of knucklebones again. [say]"How do ye want to play this?"[/say] He narrowed his own eyes as he watched the other man. The Hali wasn't smiling now, his entire focus on the contest before him.
[say]"A deal, then."[/say]
The handsome middle-aged man's face splits into an delighted grin, bright teeth flashing impossibly white. [say]"Ya first,"[/say] he says, extending a hand, a flat surface materializing between the men.
Results will be rolled for
As the small table whatever materialized, Saiden narrowed his eyes. Taking the bag, he upended it onto the surface. Knucklebones tumbled out, clacking as they landed. Taking a deep breath, he picked up five of them.
Rolling them around in his palm, he got a feel for the weight and the heft of them. Meeting the stranger's golden hued eyes, the cook grinned, though it was with a confidence he didn't feel. Then he returned his attention to the bones.
Tossing them up into the air with as little spread as he could, he turned his hand over. Spreading his fingers just a bit, he attempted to catch as many of the knucklebones on the back of of his hand as he could.
Five bones in the air.
Five bones drop.
Is it his nerves? The wind? The spirits at play?
For whatever reason, Saiden will find that the bones slide off his hand like water, leaving only one perched upon his skin. Should he look up at the stranger he will see the gold eyes burning hungrily beneath an elegantly arched brow, the handsome young man reaching out to take the bones for himself.
[say]"My turn"[/say]
Rattle. Throw. Flip. Catch. With dizzying speed and precision the gold-eyed stranger moves his hand, catching each of the bones upon it with an elegant lack of effort. A warm, rich laugh leaves him at his success, the teenager clearly delighted with his skill. [say]"And so I win,"[/say] he announces triumphantly, aureate gaze ablaze. [say]"And so ya lose."[/say]
Small, childish fingers snap forward with the speed of a snake. In the time it would take Saiden to blink his left eye is gone, held in the hand of the gold-gazed youth who admires it with childish delight. [say]"Thanks fer playin' with me!"[/say] The smile on his young face is innocent and delighted, though Saiden may not see it through the haze of pain and bloodloss. [say]"Better luck next time! Bye!"[/say]
And with that the boy disappears, leaving behind a one-eyed sailor and the impression of two glaring gold suns.
Saiden's heart fell as the bones did. Although he opened his mouth, the spirit or man or whatever was faster. Then the fingers plucked out his eye and the cook screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Doubled over with pain, he clasped his hands over his missing eye.
Tears leaked from his remaining eye, and he felt blood pouring down his face. He missed the stranger's departure as his stomach roiled. Lost in a haze of pain, he stumbled away from the shrine. Sobbing and delirious, he didn't know where he went. Eventually, he slumped against a wall, sliding to the ground. It was a miracle he wasn't robbed or killed, though after his loss he wasn't going to call anything about this day miraculous.
-FIN
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