A Risky Game (Faroul)

[Tuwa]

Tuwa placed her cards face down on the opulent carpet of amber and red the group had settled on. A little sigh could be heard from the man to her left, who took the liberty to speak to her as he revealed his cards to the group. A straight, hawk high. "If you keep folding, Tuwa, you're only going to lose mizas. The point of the game's to take a risk. Profits don't come otherwise," as he spoke his words, he collected his profits from the pot, a small margin of which was Tuwa's from the blinds and the first round of betting. Electing to ignore him, she silently gathered the cards from around the group so she could restack them. As she shuffled the cards, her dark eyes glanced out at the area around her, looking at the shimmering water of the Eye of Syna from underneath the shade of the palm tree. If she had to choose one word to describe the Eye, that word would definitely be beautiful, and that would explain why it was the center of a city like Ahnatep. A little sigh left her lips as her attention was pulled back to the card game. Tuwa dealt out the cards, examining her own private cards when she finished. Two scepters, one of wind the other of water. Not too terrible. She matched the fairly reasonable bet as it went around, proceeding to put down the first three community cards. A scepter of skulls, a five of daggers, and a Pressorah of Winds. As the bet went around, Tuwa raised it ever so slightly, watching as one of her counterparts folded in response. Apparently his hand wasn't too powerful. The second round of betting finished, with another small raise from the man to her left. The fourth community card went down, a five of skulls. Tuwa still felt comfortable with her three of a kind, raising the bet ever so slightly once again. The man to her left, however, seemed equally confident in his hand, as after the round of betting, they were the only two out of the group of five left within the game. Silently, she placed down the fifth card, the five of winds. Within her mind, she cursed vehemently. If the man possessed the fourth five, her three scepters were worthless, but as much as she wanted to fold, a burning sensation in her gut kept her from doing so. She felt that this was a personal challenge to her reputation, his way of seeing whether or not she was willing to take risks for great rewards, a personality trait required of those in power. What she knew for certain was that she would not be shown up by this Gilded. She raised the bet, watching as he followed suit. "It would appear we're at an impasse," he said coolly, smiling at her as she raised the bet once more. "Yes, it would appear so. You should fold now and save yourself a little bit of dignity. At least then we can all imagine your hand holds a little bit of superiority," Tuwa smiled at him, one of those smiles that, though they seem friendly to the casual observer, transfer waves of contempt to whoever actually deign to watch them more carefully. Despite her look of contempt, or perhaps because of it, the man laughed, and finally checked instead of raising. Tuwa did the same, placing her cards down on the rug. "Three scepters. Your hand, please?" she couldn't help but feel nervous as he began to lower his hand. but the moment his cards came into view, a smile played its way across her face. He had been bluffing, and it had cost him dearly. "Three fives," he said simply, folding all six of his arms. She smirked at him as she collected the coins from the center, speaking in a softer tone. "You should have folded," she stated simply, "then you wouldn't have to face the shame of losing all this money..." as she said the words, she raked her fingers through the modest pile of silver mizas in front of her, taunting him playfully. His response clearly broadcasted that her taunt had struck home, but it was something he'd regret saying. "At least my father's decent at petching his wife and his wife alone." Tuwa fell silent, her arms ceasing movement. She didn't know how this man knew about her father, how he knew about Rak'kena, but that wasn't important. She looked up at him and locked eyes with him, all kindness gone from her tone. "Leave. Now. While you still can," apparently, the tone of her voice was warning enough for him, as he quickly rose to his feet, leaving his mizas behind in his hustle. Unfortunately, his departure had left them with the predicament of being short a player. If the player wasn't replaced soon, the current game would fall apart, and that wouldn't do at all, considering she was just starting to do well...