Canary unconsciously pulls a face.
She reaches for the cards to deal.
14, 12
I don’t think I… really have an opportunity now. I sorta missed it. And I. Probably shouldn’t be wasting this much time over nothing. Everyone else will be doing so much more and I’ll be incredibly selfish.
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It’s close, but once again, Scar Guy manages to take home the hand. You’re starting to pick up on his skills a bit more; he’s not a particularly exceptional liar, but he seems to be pretty decent at reading the other people here, even if you can fool him more often than not. And he keeps drawing good cards — maybe he’s just lucky, or maybe he really was cheating.
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With a conflicted expression, I mull leaving right now over.
(meanwhile, two half orcs and a (probably corrupt or something) town guard walk into a dark alley…)
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Maybe I should just ask it then go…
…But that’s not very subtle. They’ll think I’m a bigger weirdo. Than they already think I am. And talk about me. Then it’ll get around that people are looking into the baron and…
Scar Guy shuffles the deck and starts to deal out another hand. He seems to be assuming you’ll be continuing to play; you could still leave, but if you don’t say something or move to go the next round will start.
oh we crossposted oops
(let’s see if he has +6 or higher)
You have great luck with your cards, and you play an incredibly skillful hand… but just when you think you’ve got this round in the bag, Scar Guy lays down the Archmage of Cups, completing one of the most highest-scoring hands in the game.
“Good game!” he says. “You were really close, you’ll get it next time!”
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I shake my head, and stand up.
“Thank you. This was fun.”
It wasn’t.
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“Have a good afternoon! I’ll see you around.”