"Bad for the breath." He says shaking his head which seams to get him a little dizzy. "Good thing I ended up playing this game, mi odds sleemed to be better than skill anyway." He says with a slight slur.

"Yes," said the man, smiling. "The odds did favour you. But tell me, brother.. were you playing straight, or are you one of the Brotherhood? I have not seen your face around, but you played too.. smoothly to be a simple gambler. And I'm not quite so sure you're entirely drunk."

"Am I drunk? Maybe a bit, but am I sober? I don't think I'm ever sober." He says with a smile leading the man to an area away from the gambling, and away from anyone who was playing the game, he ordered a drink for both of them. "As for playing straight... it depends on your definition, if you call insight cheating then yes. But I didn't use any..." One of his gold coins he has flips from knuckle to knuckle, one that the men had seen him put in his leather money bag. "normal... methods such as misdirection, well besides a little acting at the end there." He looked around the room considering the chances of individuals being in this "Brotherhood" (either they are or arn't so its pretty straight forward). "But since you have enlightend me about it may I ask about this brotherhood you speak of?"

At the moment, the brown man is the only man in the Brotherhood.

"The Brotherhood," said the brown man, "As you well know, runs the Triangle of Greed within the city - the three biggest casinos we have. Masters of the tricky arts, of the cunning arts. The Cunning Brotherhood, we are known, or simply the Cunning. The city is run by us and will always be run by us because we hold certain.. secrets."

The man butted his cigarette, lit another.

"Tell me, brother. Tell me the truth. I can't believe that a non-Brotherhood individual could pull the tricks you did.. not unless they were, for example," at this the man revealed a long, steel dagger, "A foreign spy. Say, from Yearth, perhaps."

"Hey mate, no need to be so hostile. I'm no spy, like I said have cirtain insights into things, besides that I played the game straight. While my orgines are quite a mystery, I have always called this town home from the moment I got here." He shrugs and then adds almost casually. "Call me a liar again, though, and I'll make sure you end up tripping and breaking your neck." He takes a drink, the seriousness in his eyes never seen before, but he continued to smile.

"Ah, so you admit you're not from around here?"

The brown man smiles wickedly, smoke curling about him. The long, thin blade shines in the darkness. Silence overwhelms the room. They've seen this before.

"Your threats don't scare me, Yearthling. I've killed sixteen of your brothers."

"Alright this is getting ridiculous... I'm no Yerthing, but it seems I'm going to have to teach you some manners." Tyche upped the man's chance of missing while also raiseing the chance of Tyche hitting he sent a punch straight to the man's nose... mug still in hand.

The man missed - but so did Tyche. The man's blade lashed out towards Tyche, a current of deadly steel.

Tyche suddenly poped out of existence appearing behind the man. Tyche, still holding the mug swung, it towards the back of the man's head as hard as he could.

Tyche feels a little dizzy after the teleportation, but he is successful - the man is struck down, flailing upon the floor. Despite whatever tricks he claimed to have, he did not anticipate that.

The crowd watches on, aghast. They'd never seen someone be both stupid enough to assault a Cunning Man and tough enough to beat him in a fight..

He rolled the man over and took the dagger from him, and several other smaller ones he knew where to look for, but he left any coin purse intact. Then he got some beer from the man's over turned mug and splashed it over the man's face and slapped it a bit. "Wake up sunshine... we've got a lot to talk about." He said holding the dagger up before stepping back and embedding it in a table. "I'm no murderer, nor a spy, I'm a gambeler." He smiled. "Can we talk now?"

The man moaned, opened a blackened eye.

"We'll.. we'll find you, you bastard," he coughed. "We'll find you.. and kill you.. gut you.."

Tyche considered killing the man for a moment, but instead he wanted to walk away a hero. He turns to the bar taking a couple steps toward the man keeping his mind on his to give him a warning if he tries to attack. "My name is Tyche, I'm a professional gambeler and minor magician. Its been a wonderful show ladies and gentlement, but it seems this poor sulk wants me dead. If anyone has any connections to the brotherhood you let them know I'm for hire, despite..." he motions the man. "this man's outragous accusation." He gave a wave to the bartender. "Sorry for the trouble, you want me to clean up or you got it?"

The people were still very shocked. A moment passed before the bartender blurted his reply - he had it.

Most just watched on in silence. Was this one of the mythical Yearthlings?

Tyche took the man's dagger from the table, the man had obviously wanted to give it to him the way he kept trying to hand it to his torso, and then left through the door. Once outside the bar he signed. That was close... too close, and he had resorted to way to desperate actions, and he'd have to eventually kill some poor Yerthling just to prove he wasn't one. He looked in the not so crowded streets, he pulled his cloak over his head despite the warm night air. He strolled down the packed clay road... going to find the Casino's of the Triangle of Greed. Besides, this might be a nice test to see how his inflitration skills fair.

The Triangle of Greed - three casinos, lit all night, forming an invisible triangle within the center of the city. When the seediest and the classiest clubs, bars and taverns closed late at night, these three remained open. They were heavily guarded, and where the greatest gambles are made. Three great, obsidian towers, dominating the city skyline.

They were named the Point, the Line, and the Triangle. The names had meaning. There were two obvious entrances to each of the towers, and both were guarded well.

He would start with the point, though he did wonder how they got an entire place built out of obsidian when there were not volcainos for miles and miles.

The Point was large, black, a sinister presence on the skyline. The entrance was guarded by military men carrying swords and shields. The city's elite wandered in and out of the place at ease.

--

Elsewhere:


A thousand screams - the blackness of an age - ancient volcanoes - cityscape - triangles, triangles, triangles - the point and the line -

A flash.

He was there.

(From (Pha-Hu) Temple)
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:47, Tue 01 Sept 2009.

Tyche looks over in the distence senseing the other god... well this was the city of dreams, and may he find all he wished here. Just be careful.... he though, somehow knowing the god would receive his thought.

Tyche nodded at the armed gaurds and went in if they allowed it. "Time to win some dough." He said.

He is allowed in.

He enters a large, elaborately furnished room, filled with red rugs, golden decorations, strange paintings, couches, chairs, tables.. it was a dining room and a waiting room in one, and many folk were sitting and eating, or sipping at coffee, or chatting pleasantly. Black-coated waiters wandered around, taking orders and bringing food and drinks. There was a large archway to the back end of the room, with the words, May you see success engraved upon the top, and to the right were several nondescript entrances - where the waiters came from.

"May I help you, sir?" said the doorman, bowing slightly.

"I'd feel like roulette, if the hour's not to late..." he says.

"Of course not, sir," said the man. "What will you be bidding with, if I might ask? Simple coin?"

"Thats all I have so far..." He says.

"Sure," said the man. "Right this way, sir."

He led Tyche through the gateway and into a fabulous area filled with lights and sound. He passed many gambling tables and eventually found himself to the roulette wheel.

Ah roulette. Now this was a game that his particular... skills would be very very good at. Once the ball hits the wheel, he would be see the odds and know which number it would land on, and even if someone was cheating by using a magnet, wieghted ball, or some other mechanical system that didn't involve someone actually grabbing the ball, he would see that as well.

He pulled out a copper and tipped the doorman, then got out some silver and began to watch a bit senseing the wheel and its odds to see how "real" the game was before putting down his own chips. He would be sure to keep his wins at standard odds while throwing a couple copper pieces on wild-cards he knew would lose (or the other way around to get break even). But he would use his skills to double his money in the course of 10 minutes or so. He got more dareing as he kept winning (as all casions want) and began to put a couple gold(think gold=100 bucks) on 4 individual numbers, each with 30 to 1 odds... he made sure to put down a gold on the number that would get hit... no matter how odd it seemed.