(WIP)
I'zara looked over the cards in her hand... what she presumed was a winning hand.
The sailing ship The Kraken's Wake was berthed at Ratchet, and many of the crew had come ashore on leave, seeking solace in the embrace of alcohol a few steps up from the shipboard grog, made from... well, I'zara didn't know from what grog was made, and given the taste, she had no intention of finding out.
Instead, she had found herself a card game at the Broken Keel, although to her chagrin her luck had been plentiful - but all bad.
Until this hand. Luck and persistence had conspired to bless I'zara with a run of four cards on the same suit.
Then she had tossed back one card; she had two chances to fill the straight, on either end of her run. a three or a seven of Rogues would do nicely, and she had drawn the seven.
After a furious round of betting, only she and the captain of the Kraken's Wake, Vivian Heartsorrow, remained. I'zara had bet her last gold coin that she had held back to pay her bar bill, but Wiley would forgive her when she walked away from the table with her windfall.
And then Vivian raised, adding twenty - twenty! - more gold to the pot, arching an eyebrow.
"... I don't suppose you'd take a marker? I'm good for it," offered I'zara.
"I'm sure you are, but I run a ship... it might take months until I am back to Ratchet, and maybe years until you are here at the same time," refused Vivian.
"...how about if I have Wiley extend you credit at the inn?" I'zara countered.
"How about you pony up cash, friend. Or cede the pot if you can't..."
"How about if I indenture my slave to you for a year?" the orc woman said. "A year's service, and if I don't redeem him... well, he's worth at least twenty, in addition to the free labor you'll get out of him."
"The Kraken's Wake isn't a slaver," said Vivian slowly, narrowing her eyes. "And could use a new cabin boy..."
* * *
Bramwald's voice hit a pitch several octaves above normal. "What do you mean a year? You sold me?"
"I did not sell you... think of it as a lease? A year at sea will be good for you; you'll learn new skills, make new friends... it'll be a new experience, an adventure!"
"Adventures are stupid, getting killed for nothing," Bramwald said, his voice doing a credible imitation of I'zara.
"...c'mon, kid... it's only a year."
"Then you do it. Its only a year, right?"
"You know I can't - Freke gets sick at sea." She turned to Freke. "Tell him you get sick at sea!"
The wolf, perched atop the bed, looked away with a whine.
"Fine. Traitor!" she snarled. "Look... I'm sorry, OK? I had a sure thing... almost a sure thing."
Bramwald came over to I'zara, and gave her a hug. "OK. A year. But you better get me back after the year."
I'zara looked disconcerted, disarmed by Bramwald's honest affection. She wrapped her arms around his slender body, and rested her chin atop his head. "Freke would never let me rest, otherwise, kid."
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