A Wager in Bone (Story) (Patreon)

I've submitted Gnoll Tales to the printer and am waiting to find out if the files have been approved. I'm still on track to release the book at Anthrocon. In the meantime, I have another story from Gnoll Tales I'd like to share

The village of Two Taverns sits on a riverbank where the King’s Highway crosses a large stone bridge. As the name implies, it does indeed have two taverns. One is a large luxurious affair that caters to richer travelers. The food is good, the rooms are clean, but you pay an extra silver or two for your room. The other, The Black Tod, has seen its cycle of good years and bad years. I got fleas from the bed there once and trust me when I say that was not a lot of fun. So naturally, I went back, since being a young, itinerant druid does not pay. This was when I was still just getting my paws in the mud back then, and I thought I could handle myself in a game of dice. Turns out I couldn’t.

The Black Tod back then was best described as the type of place you only visit if you’re desperate or broke, and I was a bit of both at the time. The owner at the time, Sammis, was an old human who should have retired and sold the place a decade prior, but he wasn’t one to give up on a dream, and he knew the Black Tod could be something more than it was. The bones were good he would say, but the rest of the place needed work.

His apprentice was a dwarf by the name of Halvar Ironspike, and he had already seen a lot by the time he came to the Black Tod, washing up with a group of mercenaries who were down on their luck and looking to drink the last of their coin away. Halvar and his friend Khalid stayed, while the rest of the party left town broker and more desperate than they had arrived.

Khalid was a dark-skinned man from far to the south across the vast deserts and savannah, and I’ve never figured out why he settled in Two Taverns, but he said he was tired, and he says it was as good a place to stop from the journey as any other. Halvar stayed because he drank more than he could afford to pay, and there was little point going on when you couldn’t even afford a cheap beer. He chose to work off his debts, figuring it would be a short break from the road. Khalid had kept a few coins to himself, and he set up a little stall in the market working tin and copper, which quickly grew into a very profitable enterprise.

Thus I, being still green behind my ears with a spring in my tail, was an easy mark for these two to strip of every coin I had, which Halvar proceeded to do in a game of passage I should have bowed out of after the first round of beer. I stupidly stayed put, losing everything.

“Looks like you’ll be sleeping in the stable at this point,” said the dwarf, picking up the last of my coppers from the table. He smiled at me, pleased with his success.

“Eh, I’ve slept in worse places,” I said dejectedly, picking up my mug. I’d lost count how many rounds we’d had at this point, but I could certainly feel it.

He shifted the coins in his hand, feeling their heft. “You want them back?”

“You giving me my money back?”

“One more wager,” said the dwarf.

“I’ve got nothing left to bet.” That wasn’t true, but the things on me like the necklace the Claw Keeper gave me were not on the table.

“Oh, you’ve got plenty left to bet,” said Halvar.

“Leave the gnoll alone, friend,” said Khalid. “You’ve already put him outdoors.”

The dwarf chuckled. “He ain’t broke though. One of those gold earrings would fetch a good price.”

“I’m not betting those,” I responded with a snarl.

“Perhaps something else,” said the elf who rounded out our gaming table tonight. She was a tall fair skinned elf called Alwine with delicate features, long hair, and a passion for dice. She’d asked to join our game when the dice first hit the table. She’d also had good luck tonight, but not as good as Halvar had. “You all seem the adventuring type.”

“Former,” said Halvar.

“Same,” remarked Khalid.

“I travel and practice my craft, but it’s small stuff,” I responded.

“Ah, but you have your own staff. You are already a journeyman in the druidic arts, aren’t you? I recognize the claw around your neck as a gift to guide you.”

“I heal sick farm animals, and deal with the conflicts that farmers have with their cattle and any predators in the woods,” I responded. “I know better than to get into old ruins where wild magic may run deep.”

She smiled, and it was most unsettling in the way she leaned over the table to whisper at us all. “A staff is a powerful tool in the hands of one who can summon magic.” Alwine reached under her cloak and slowly pulled out a small bone dagger inscribed with arcane sigils. “Perhaps we up the ante and all bet something we value.”

There was silence at the table for a moment before Khalid spoke up. “I came for a friendly game, not to shake my life up.”

“Wise, but what about you, Ingot?” she asked me.

“There is a big difference between losing money, and losing my staff,” I responded. “Plus, a staff is useless in the hands of someone who cannot wield magic.”

“May I?” asked Halvar, reaching for the dagger and then pausing.

“Yes, of course.”

He picked it up and looked it over carefully. “Even I know this is worth far more than Ingot’s staff. Why would you offer this?”

She smiled. “Perhaps a little chaos in all this.”

The dwarf flipped the dagger over. “Is it magical?”

“Not to me, but maybe to him,” she said, pointing at me.

I squinted at the symbols, and the way they were scratched into the blade. They had a familiar look to them. “That’s gnoll made,” I said.

“Perceptive. Do you know who made it?”

I motioned for Halvar to hand it to me, and I looked over the blade carefully. “It’s inscribed in the old language, but the meaning is clear. It’s a ritual knife for the gnoll goddess of dreams, Shamana.”

“Indeed, she who guides the sleeping.”

“Where did you get this from?” I asked, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, I won it in a game of cards a while back, but where they got it from, I can’t say.”

I carefully examined the curve of the dagger. The edge was not sharp, but it was finally cut and etched. “This would have been made from a hunter’s kill, to guide them in their future. Probably for someone who had a small shrine to Shamana in their house. These aren’t used in temples, but more for personal affirmations.”

“So you know how to use it?” she asked me.

“I know a few ceremonies, but the new gods do not interfere in our lives. Devotion to Shamana is a personal matter.”

“Well, will you play for it?” she asked me.

“I would not win,” I said.

“What makes you say that?”

“I have not won at all, but perhaps Halvar will play in my stead?”

“I don’t want that,” said the dwarf.

“I know, but I will wager my staff, and you will roll the dice and make the calls.”

The dwarf squinted at me and then at Alwine. “If she would let me.”

“I will not play Halvar for your staff. Only you,” she said.

“And I would not win,” I responded.

“What makes you so sure?”

I cleared my throat and leaned forward, letting my muzzle drop. “Because I think both of you are cheating.”

Halvar slammed his fist down. “How dare you! I would never cheat at dice. It’s against my honor.”

Khalid, who had been sitting out of this, laughed. “You are perceptive, Ingot, but you missed the biggest clue. Only Alwine is cheating. I recognize that tattoo on your wrist,” he said to the elf. “It is a luck mark. It’s small, subtle, and lets you influence the dice.”

“You cheater!” snarled Halvar, slamming his fists on the table again. “I should have you thrown out.”

She smiled and sat back. “Not many people know what those are, but I assure you, I did not cheat tonight.”

“Luck marks are an old trick,” said Khalid, “but they’re not the only one. I’ve been to a lot of taverns over the years. Perhaps we should redivide the pot.”

The dwarf glowered, but with the sizeable winnings he had, he said nothing.

“There’s only so far you can go with a luck mark. It does not always work in your favor. So, perhaps a different game for the dagger,” the elf said.

I glanced at Khalid. “How powerful is a luck mark?”

“It depends on the mark. May I see your wrist,” he asked Alwine.

She hesitated for a moment and then reached over. He ran his fingers over the mark and closed his eyes for a moment as he muttered a few words. I could feel him doing something magical. “There is no luck left in this,” he said when he was done.

“I know. It earned me a few coins over the year, but the magic has faded. I have not chosen to recharge it.”

I picked up my tankard and took a gulp. “Well, I am still in the stables.”

“Then let me sweeten the deal. The dagger and ten copper against your staff.”

I put the tankard down and looked at the elf. She had some trick in this, and I would be out a staff if I lost this. It would take me a week to carve a new one, and that’s assuming I could easily find the right wood for it. There was everything for me to lose, and I couldn’t be sure my judgement was good anymore at this point.

“Fine, a final round, but not with these dice. We will play an ancient gnoll game and throw moons and stars.”

“I do not have the dice for that,” she said, but I was already in my pack and pulled out a small cloth bag. Gently I set it down and dumped out the contents of the bag. Seventy small wooden tokens each etched with a star along with two bone dice fell out, and her eyes lit up.

“Do you know the rules?” I asked.

Alwine reached forward and picked up the dice, looking at them. “Yes, but it rare to find sets of this. It retells the gnoll myth for the creation of the night sky, does it not?”

“In a fashion, yes. It’s an old game. Not many play it anymore.” I responded.

The elf chuckled. “I’ve heard the tale. Would you wager this against the dagger?”

I hesitated. “This is a family heirloom. It belonged to my grandfather.”

“The better to bet then for a sacred dagger, don’t you think?”

The human and the dwarf were looking at us. Halvar spoke up. “You seem insistent on besting him,” he said to the elf. “Why is that?”

“I don’t like to lose, and I follow the whims of the elven goddess of luck. Gambling to Damistariqel is a form of worship. To bet cautiously is to not believe in her powers.”

“I’m not sure the gods pay attention to games of chance,” said Khalid.

I considered for a moment. “I will wager the dice set for the dagger.”

“Very well,” said Alwine. “Halvar and Khalid shall witness this game, and the goddess of luck will bless us with her virtue. Shall the best player win.”

I spread out the tokens and set the dice apart. “The first to twenty stars wins. Do you wish to go first?”

She picked up the dice and threw, the roll giving her a waxing crescent, and earning her one star. I picked up the dice, and threw them, earning myself a waning gibbous moon, losing two stars I didn’t yet have. With that the game was off.

Luck was, like the rest of the night, not on my side. Alwine rolled well, and I only hung in there by rolling some waxing gibbous moons that let me steal a star from her. As the game proceeded, my paws grew sweatier as she stayed in the lead, her luck better. She quickly reached nineteen stars, while I was behind her at seventeen. It looked like she was going to get the dice set from me.

“This could be it,” she said, picking up the dice.

“I know,” I said dejectedly.

She threw the dice, and I watched them bounce across the table, feeling a sinking feeling. The waxing symbol came up on one, but moon die was blank. She’d rolled a new moon and lost her turn.

“Perhaps next turn,” she remarked handing the dice over.

Nervously I picked them up and threw them, and the fates smiled upon me. I had rolled a full moon, earning one star from the pot, and one star from an opponent of my choice. This being a two-player game, I got one from Alwine, bringing me to nineteen and her eighteen, with me finally taking the lead.

The elf smiled and scooped up the dice and eagerly threw them, landing a waxing gibbous, thus earning two stars. My ears fall back. I’d lost the dice set.

“Good game,” I whispered.

“One more wager,” she said reaching over to my pot. “I’ll only do a steal of one, and let you throw again, if you throw in one of your gold earrings.”

“You’re not required to steal on a waxing gibbous. You can take two from the pot or one from another player.”

She smiled. “I know, but you’ve already lost your dice if you don’t take the wager. They’re a family heirloom, aren’t they? Just like the earring is.”

Our drinking compatriots looked at each other. “She’s got you in a bind, Ingot,” remarked Khalid. “You might want to back out now.”

“And where’s the fun there?” said Alwine. “When does a gambler quit?”

“When there’s nothing left to give,” I said.

She pulled out two gold coins from her purse and put them on the table. “What if there’s more to earn? I’ll give you another throw to see how this goes. I could even lose a star on my next turn, you know.”

“I can’t,” I said.

“You can,” said the elf.

“You shouldn’t,” said the dwarf.

“I wouldn’t,” said the human.

But you will, said a voice in the distance. My ears swiveled, and I thought I saw the figure of a tall elven woman in a long gown with a golden coin twirling in her long fingers, standing across the bar watching me.

“Ingot?” asked Alwine.

I turned back to her and then quickly glanced back to the bar. “I thought…”

Alwine looked at the bar. “She favors you it seems,” she said, surprised, and sat back. “Take the roll.”

“I…”

“Just take the roll.”

I glanced back at the bar and back at the dice. Tail down and ears back, I picked them up and threw them. They sailed across the table and landed on a waxing gibbous.

“Ah,” remarked Alwine. “It has been a good game.” She pushed the dagger and the two gold coins on the table toward me. “Good game,” she said offering me a hand.

I shook it nervously. “To you as well.”

Then Alwine got up and walked away from the table, leaving me dumbfounded.

“What did you see, lad,” asked Halvar after a minute.

“There was an elven woman by the bar, holding a gold coin, turning it over in her fingers. She said I would take the roll, but she wasn’t there when I looked back.”

The dwarf sucked in his breath. “The new gods do not interfere directly with the world. For you to see one must mean you have some destiny in your life to fulfill.”

Khalid rolled his eyes. “Now come on, you can’t be sure it was a goddess.”

“It was Damistariqel,” said Halvar. “Even Alwine knew it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I picked up the dagger, and examined it again. “Maybe the goddess wanted me to have this? Although why an elven goddess would want me to have a dagger for worshipping a gnoll goddess, that I don’t understand.”

“Maybe,” said Halvar. “It’s hard to know what any of the gods want, if they want anything from us at all.”

I shook my head and started to pack up the dice and tokens.

“So another round of dice,” asked Halvar. “You’ve got money again.”

“I’m going to quit while I am ahead. I’m not a devotee of Damistariqel.”

“Not yet,” said the dwarf with a chuckle. “Again, who knows where fate takes you, right Khalid?”

“Indeed,” said the man, lifting his tankard. “Halvar, get us a round with your winnings and let’s tell him about some of our time on the road together.”

“If you want to tell stories, you can pay for the round,” remarked the dwarf.

“I’d just get the money from your purse, my sweet.”

“That man owns his own shop, makes good coin, and he won’t even pay for his drinks out of his own purse…” the dwarf grumbled as he got up and went to the bar.

Khalid shook his head and turned back to me to whisper. “A word of advice, if you want to dice with Halvar again, bring your own dice.”

“Wait, he was cheating?” I said surprised.

“In a fashion. He has a technique for throwing those that improves his odds, and he’s been practicing with that set for a long time. The fates aren’t the only ones who don’t play fair.”

“Uh, thanks,” was all I could muster, “but why tell me? He’s obviously your friend.”

Khalid smiled. “Oh, he is and more, but if one of the gods is favoring you, I’d rather be on your good side. Plus, we really do need more people in this world doing work like you do. You deserve a good night’s rest instead of sleeping in the stable.”