PM to join [The Spinning Coin] That Damned Cockerel (Milartek)

[Marx Eisenstahl]

27 Autumn 513 A.V. Marx Eisenstahl scowled through his scratched and battered helmet. He breathed heavily, keeping his head low and to his chest. He knew it wasn't really necessary; not even this house of ruin would have snipers hiding in the crowd. But old habits took a while to get rid of, and he had no intention of ever giving up his cautiousness. Marx looked around his place of employment. It was a dingy gambling den, deep within the depths of the warehouse district. Poor foyshas with nothing to spare doomed the rest of their lives to poverty with a single misjudged bet. Desperate fools swore to themselves they could win the pot, if only they played just one more time. Dancers and jugglers plied their trade, wowing audiences while a swarm of pick pockets did their job, earnest in their desire to avoid the Tank. Smoke curled through the room, lying thick and heavy. From what Marx could see, every depravity under the sun was in front of him. He sighed. He had long ago stopped feeling any thrill from places such as this; now, it was merely where people went to throw away what future they had. It made him sad, really. He remembered when he'd have leapt at the chance to visit a spot like this. He set his teeth, and strode into the mess that made up the seedier population of Syliras. He was approached by his employer, a big, burly man in his late thirties, scarred but well-dressed. He set a huge cage down on the table next to them. Marx was to guard an object of great value; a prize fighting cockerel. Not the most dignified of work, to be sure, but one that paid surprisingly well considering it's client. To hear the owner tell it, the cockerel could take on a Syliran knight single-handedly. Marx had to admit, it looked like one evil cockerel. It was the favourite for the cock-fighting championship, and he'd heard that a lot of people had bet money on him. He shouldn't have been so surprised to hear that there were quite a few people who wanted it dead. He grimaced, and picked the cage up. He brought it 'round to the back of the stage, where the cock-fighting would take place. Panting, he carefully put the cage on a bench, trying not to disturb it's unamused occupant. With a sigh of relief, Marx leant back and put his arm around the cage. The cockerel instantly pecked at his hand. Marx quickly removed his arm, and looked around with a sinking heart. It was going to be yet another long night.

[Milartek]

It was a busy night at the coin. People were drowning there losses in ale, whilst others with deeper pockets or more luck bet again. Smoke filled the Akalaks mouth and the acrid taste clung to the back of his throat. He still wasn't sure if he enjoyed his job here but he needed the coin it provided. Besides some nights were more interesting than others.

He had been taken aside earlier that night by the boss and told that a big rooster match was taking place and that big money was sometimes bet. His job was to make sure the house got its cut and to ensure no sore losers vented their anger in a way that would attract unwanted attention.

Milartek had sometimes wondered why the knights turned a blind eye to the comings and going in the establishment. He wondered how many of the roughly dressed citizens were actually knights in disguise. After all even noble knights could fall prey to the lure of gambling, couldn't they? It also occurred to Milartek that it was better for the gamblers and pickpockets to accumulate in one space, rather than to try and ply there trade elsewhere. At least here they were contained.

A particular man caught his eye at that point, the light of a candle glinting slightly of dulled armor. He was a peculiar looking character, dressed in miss matched armor. Another thought that occurred was why did he need all that armor? Yes sometimes it got rowdy, but most of the violence got done in the cage. Not in the open.

Mialrtek followed the man, who had just picked up the cage of a huge angry looking cockerel. He hadn't been told anything about the people bringing in the birds, so he wanted to make sure that this person wasn't doing anything untoward. If the house didn't get paid neither did he.

He followed the strange looking character to behind the stage, waited for him to put the bird down and announced himself.

"I hope your not thinking of doing anything to that bird it is needed for an event later tonight. Also there is no need for all the armor in here. Yes it sometimes gets rowdy but i keep a tight grip on it."