cheaters always prosper [O] [Rated Rrrr]

[SALEM WIGHT]

Salem tossed back his head and let out a triumphant laugh as the pile of gold in front of him grew taller. He reached out across the table, his long slender fingers grabbing a hold of his new ill gotten treasure, and pulled it towards himself. He beamed as he counted each piece, the stares of contempt failing to penetrate the armor of apathy and greed that currently shielded him. He ignored the other men that sat at the table with him, their own piles of gold looking sickly compared to his and the dealer who continued to shuffle the deck of cards, waiting for the red headed figure. Salem playfully took a hold of one of his coins and placed it between his lips, biting down on it with a set of pearly white teeth. It clanked against his teeth and refused to give as he bent at it. He removed his winning from his jaw and smiled at it.

"If you mind," came a grating voice from across the table, "The rest of us would like to get on with our game." Salem looked up, his sole eye searching the table for the man who had spoken up. The deep brown eye locked onto the man who had been winning the game until Salem had decided to sit down and join in. He was a scraggly man, even by Salem's standards. With messy brown hair and a beard that seemed to have something nesting in it. He looked like the sort of man Salem would usually get along with. The kind of man who could knock back drinks for hours and stick a man for looking at him the wrong way. It was unfortunate that the two found themselves playing against themselves. When the Carnival had advertised games it most certainly didn't include games such as this, and the invitation certainly didn't invite the scum of Magvel. Yet two such people currently sat under a tent playing a game with mostly honest men. Salem smiled at the man rather sweetly as he pinched his coin between his fingers.

"The game," he said as he began to walk the coin along his knuckles, releasing a soft clink as it connected with bone. "I'd almost forgotten. Your gold, I mean, my gold is just so distracting." he added as he reversed the trail of the coin. Even with one eye Salem could see that the man was angered by his playful demeanor. The rest of the table didn't find his joke too funny either. Instead of glaring at him they simply looked down at their sad portions of gold. Most would have walked away, but they were already too committed to the game. They had to at least try and win back what they had lost, lest they return home to angry women with scornful looks. Salem pitted them. All he had to fear was showing up back at his ship with no money for booze. A ship load of angry, sober pirates was nothing compared to the ire of a woman.

"Well then, lets get on with it." he said as he plopped his coin down upon the stacks before him. The dealer seemed relieved as he passed out the cards. Salem picked up the ragged cards and looked over them. The hand was garbage, complete and utter rubbish. As terrible as it was he couldn't help but smile at it. "I'm going to go all in." Salem said as he pressed his pile of gold forward. The crowd around him frowned. Through out the entire game Salem had only gone all in when he was sure he would win. The table knew what it meant. The prospect of winning that much gold was too great to pass up though. They all imitated him, placing all they had left forward. They all knew only one man was walking away a winner. Sadly, Salem knew he would be that winner. The dealer looked to the men and they each revealed their hand. Salem was the last to go. "Sorry boys," he said as he threw his cards down. The men groaned. "Flush," he said as he reached out to pull in the last of his winnings.

It was then, just as he was reaching out that his "friend" from earlier pulled out a dagger. He slammed it down right where Salem's hands would have been, if it hadn't been for a bit of quick reflexes. The dagger found it's way to his sleeve, tearing it open. As it did several cards came falling out. The men looked at Salem. The red haired man offered each a polite smile. "Well, this is awkward." he said before grabbing as much coin as he could and fleeing, the tails of his coat trailing behind him, and the shouts of the men trailing behind those. Salem laughed aloud as he ran through the crowded streets. Salem loved gambling, the risk, the strategy, the gold. He loathed losing though. Nothing was as crushing as a defeat at the hands of some nobody. Cheating was a fun way to ensure his victory. It also provided him with a good reason to work on his cardio.

As Salem fled bits of gold fell to his side, the passerbys scrambling for the stray pieces, blocking the advancing mob. Salem kept cackling as he freed one hand and ripped off the cloak of a merchant who had stopped to watch. The fabric tore in his hand, but he took most of it with him. With the grace of a cat he spun on his heel and leaped behind a stall once he was out of sight of his hunters. He quickly deposited his winnings in his purse and threw the now ragged fabric over him. As he stood he walked towards his would be captors, his hands clutching the fabric tightly. It was a shame it had ripped. Only minutes ago it had been a nice, black velvet cloak. It would have sold for a pretty penny or wowed a beautiful young woman. "Ah well," he said as he hobbled forward, maneuvering through the throng.

One of his chaser's bumped into him, but didn't bother too look. Too fixated upon the distance that Salem had disappeared into. "You can't win them all." the pirate said as he allowed the hit to spin him. He stopped himself and looked after the men, pulling back his hood as he watched them go. "Doesn't mean you can't win most." he said as he reached down and felt his purse. It gave a healthy jangle. It sounded like his crew would have a fun night, even while Salem was busy with other matters.

words 1120
tags do gooders and fellow cheats are welcome
notes tsk, tsk Salem's looking for some trouble already.

[MARKCKET HARSEN]

While taking notes on common Renais behavior, Markcket heard some commotion from the general direction he was facing. Curiously he listened to the angry shouts. He could consistently pick out the words dirty, cheater, and thief. He pretended to write more notes while they got louder and closer. He almost laughed at the scene created. A merchant flailed to keep his coat but was too unprepared to keep but a scrap. Cket could only frown a little at that. It was a nice cloak after all. The angry mob came running past a minute too late. While he didn't clue them in, he'd already watched the "thief" run towards the barn. Deciding to make the carnival more interesting for a half blind, unathletic man, Cket closed his notebook and walked calmly after the running man.

He had to admit the guy had some brains in his head. Any truly successful thief had to. He caught sight of the cloak again only just before a straggler of the angry mob ran into him. "You can't win them all. Doesn't mean you can't win most." the stranger said as a jingling sound resounded from somewhere around his waist. Markcket guessed it was from his money purse, and couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "True statement, sir. I wouldn't argue against it for my honor as a scholar. It was quite a crafty trick you pulled," he said, smiling, and took off his glasses, setting them in their special case that hung at his waist. His notebook was already tucked safely away in his inner coat pocket. "You have to be a smart person to be a good thief."