84th of Winter, Seaside Market, Low Tide
Gad jostled the dice around in his hand under the shade of his commandeered stall. He was really a squatter, the fishmonger who'd been using this for the past few weeks had been slow to rise, and Gad had taken advantage by setting up shop in his stead. Well, "shop" was a loose word. Really, it wasn't much more than a craps table, with sign that solicited passerby's to "Test Their Luck". Unsurprisingly, none of Sunberthers on the boardwalk felt particularly lucky this morning, and the traffic was low, because many of the waterways were still iced over. Gad leaned back and sighed "I need a better way to get money." He sucked his teeth and clinked the dice in his hand.
A fat greasy sailor with a beer gut over his waistband strolled up and eyed the stall appraisingly, and smiled a crooked smile with several faux gold teeth. He spoke "Hey, I'm feeling pretty lucky."
"Oh? Well take a seat my main man, we can test that feeling for ya if you want." Gad replied and gestured to his setup. The sailor grinned at let out a breath that smelled of bad alcohol and worse food.
"S'how ah won these." He said, point a grime covered digit at the fake teeth."
"Wow that's amazing," Gad said with clearly feigned enthusiasm "you could probably get some more if you want. Here, just take a seat."
"Yep," The man continued, as if Gad hadn't spoken at all "just like this. Not dice though, cards it was. Man thought he could pull one over on ol' Willy, but I'm the luckiest man in Syliras, taint dumb neither, saw the cards up his sleeve an dall ."
In a flat and unamused tone. "Gee. That's great. You're amazing Willy." He sighed. "Look guy, you wanna play the game or not?" Gad was strapped for cash, and didn't have time to waste on idle chit-chat. Then, his ears twitched. He wasn't sure why or how, but he had an odd feeling. This sensation that something was close but he couldn't place it. The moist air upset the poorly healing gash on his right shoulder and just as his hand reached up to massage it, his eyes got a glimpse of something immediately recognizable. Out of the corners, he saw the movement of yellow hair, flaxen threads jostled by the sea breeze. "This guy." Gad was sure it was.
Did his eyes decieve? No. It was Him. That rat bastard. Oh, he's got a lot of nerve showing that face around my end of town. Gad thought. Wasting no time, he planted a sandal on Willy's chest, then applied force to shove the old drunk out of the way. "Back it up fatso," he said as he leaped over the table "got some real business to attend to." Sure enough, there he was, that little urchin who went out of way to screw Gad over. "Hey, you!" It lacked originality, but it would do the job. Gad swaggered over to the young man with his chest puffed out and shoulders back, closing the distance. He seemed to be saying something but the blood pumping in Gad's ears was too much for him to notice. "You think you can just walk around here after what you did!?" Gad swung hard, aiming right for the punk's nose.