Deuce Is Wild [Braig]

The developments that overtook Port Royal over the prior few days required a brief venture. To assess the state of things outside the shore of the pirate haven, Luxord needed to polarize himself upon news from elsewhere. Whether many had come to hear of the red star or not, remained to be determined. However the Gambler of Fate was keen to discover more about its nature, and hopefully its origins. So long as it hung within the night sky for all at sea to look upon, something told Luxord that his plans for Port Royal could never truly realize fruition. War teetered on the edge of the world’s horizon; a war uninvited to the doorstep of what would be a glorious future.

Within a shaded glade somewhere in the forests outside the bustling kingdom of Corona, the solemn peace of the clearing was torn apart by the sudden apparatus created by the darkness. It sprang from nothingness with haste, like a tiger pouncing from the tall grass. Within an instant a man in a black coat was deposited on the blades of green, and in that same moment the dark would vanish. Beneath the façade granted by the hood he wore, Luxord looked about as he started forward onto a beaten path. The longer he traversed this path, the more he became certain of the most obvious of observations.

This was a new world.

There was no mistaking it. At least rather, to the former Number Ten of a once formidable collection of non-individuals, it was certainly a world he never had a pleasure to visit. The colors all about this forest were vibrant, and popped to the eye. For every crunch of a boot on the earth, there was a serenade of chirping avians frolicking in the canopies. Though among this engorged euphoria of beauty, therein belied a predicament that continued to weigh on Luxord’s thoughts. The matter, and more pressing concern, of locating this world’s prime hub of information. Every world had one, even if they varied greatly in difference, they all served the same purpose. Networking, and information trafficking was a tool best served to those whom knew the trade. A card player such as himself were keen in these arts, having sat in on games with an all number and colors of hearts in their time.

A game with one Somebody, or Nobody, was usually sufficient for Luxord to learn enough about what they knew, or better, whom they were at heart. The matter of choice often revealed a heart’s true nature after all. The internal struggle of neophytes caught within their own vices of morality, was often thrilling enough to accommodate the indulgence of such a game. Perhaps it was one of the many reasons why Luxord played at all. This brought about a question that lingered on the Gambler’s line of thought.

Whom in this world, on this afternoon, was willing to play such a game?

A smirk tugged at the corner of the lips under the hood. The coated man would cease his stride, upon catching the shade of a shadow. A glimpse skyward found the words The Snuggly Duckling wrapped among a bright, golden wooden duck. A roll of the eyes was made. How positively elegant mused Luxord, the voice in his head dripping with sarcasm. A sigh was made as he skimmed over the barbaric looking tavern, before begrudgingly stepping to the door as he opened it. The smell of glazed and smoked meats filled the air after the creak of the hinges. Forty thieves or more stared back at the man in black, all wearing their most intimidating of scowls and sneers. The enigma was unfazed by the welcoming committee, as he walked confidently to the far side of the room, followed all the while by those unflinching stares. As the stranger took one of the empty chairs by the fireplace, a youth sitting apart the crowd would start a medley to resume the room’s prior mood. Chatter resumed as the stares departed Luxord’s form, as several hands of cards manifested in a gloved palm.

So it was the Gambler would do what he did best.

He would shuffle the cards, and patiently wait.