Nikym's Predicament

Finally, she released my wrist and went for her glove. She pulled a piece of fabric out of its cuff. It was maybe five inches to a side and made from a silky black material. The moment she unfurled it I noticed the tell-tale tingle of potent magic emanating from it. Before I could ask what she was doing though, Nazha reached into the piece of fabric and produced a bag of coins which she handed the masked wizard. "That should be enough for a ten grand buy-in, drinks, company and your usual fee."

"Oh, generous as always," Lucky fawned, pocketing the jingling coin sack. "I'll see to it that you receive only the finest service." He opened one of the doors and indicated the room beyond. "Have a pleasant evening. No evisceration if at all possible. You will be served momentarily. Do you need a dealer?"

A furious roar and the sound of fists hammering against a hollow wall panel interrupted him. "Oh my," Lucky muttered, made a complicated, tinkling gesture and disappeared in a puff of silvery glitter.

"He should know my preferences by now," Nazha grumbled. The black half-dragon crossed the threshold. A small, cozy room awaited us, containing not much more than a table covered in green felt, some chairs, a small bar and a comfortable sofa. The illumination was provided by a shaded lamp over the felt table, which left the edges of the room in a shadowy twilight. I noticed some hints of perfume and sweet spirits still lingering in the air, along with the aroma of furniture wax. Nazha closed the door behind us and gestured towards the table. "Sit. Make yourself at home."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" I asked her, undoing my cloak clasp. I tossed the garment over the back of a chair and sat down.

"You've come this far already, you can at least pretend you're enjoying yourself," she said, pulling off her gloves. A moment later, she shrugged out of her gown and tossed it onto the sofa. Wearing only a flirtatious expression, she inspected the bar. Going by her disappointed snarl and the way she closed the cabinet, it was depleted.

"I wasn't aware we're playing Strip Poker tonight," I said. "Or do you always get naked in front of strangers?"

"Naked?" Nazha asked. She turned around and rapped her knuckles against her chest. It sounded like someone had struck a boiled leather breastplate with a handful of pebbles. "I'll never be naked," she simply stated. "The best my lovers can hope for is me spreading my crotch plates for them." Her hand moved down her front. The scales were much smaller than on her back or arms and not nearly as pitch-black, more a dirty, mottled gray. She stopped just above a set of angled plates covering what would be a woman's sex. "But we're not there. Yet." Nazha pulled back a chair and sat down opposite me. "If it were just me, I wouldn't even bother with clothing outside. But my friends let me know that I tend to make people nervous, running around like this." She placed her taloned hands on the green felt table top.

"I hope you don't mind if I keep my clothes on."

"Suit yourself," she said, leaning back and caressing a scaled breast. "I'm sure we'll be seeing enough of our true selves during this night."

Someone knocked at the door.

"About time," Nazha said. Louder, she snapped "Come!"

Two people entered, both wearing similar, revealing outfits consisting of open-front vests and skin-tight pants in Lucky Thirteen's favored color scheme, purple and silver. One was a male, a Frostspire barbarian by birth. He was almost as tall as Nazha and slightly less impressive in the muscles department. His toned body was oiled and he smelled of fresh herbs. His hair was the envy of every elf maid, long and the color of honey. The golden headband with a sword ornament resting on his forehead was a nice touch. He was clean-shaven and his icy blue eyes gazed at Nazha in apprehension. City life had truly taken its toll on this once mighty bruiser.

The other was - of all things - a female dark elf. The open-front vest immediately drew my eyes to her naked breasts. Not because my need was that great, don't get me wrong. It takes more than a bit of naked skin for that. No, it was the tattoo adorning her slender body. Someone had used skillful shading techniques to form the illusion of long, clawed hands cupping her curves, complete with glinting talons. The artist had used the body's own curvature and skin tone to great effect and I was instantly curious to know what the rest of that walking artwork looked like. Thankfully I remembered my manners and looked up, only to be presented with the next surprise. She was a redhead, something exceptionally rare among her kind. There was no holy or unholy symbol around her neck, only a glittering bow. Most dark elves I knew were - despite their departure from Below - deeply religious and it was said that those with red hair were especially blessed by the Chaos Queen. To see one such creature on the Surface and working in such a place was wondrous indeed.

Both bore trays. The toothless barbarian carried one full of decanters and bottles while the dark elven beauty brought paraphernalia necessary for our game - boxes of tokens, card packs, dice cups and a few sets of bones. The barbarian moved around Nazha and deposited his tray on the bar to the side. Nazha sniffed the air in his wake and I saw some of the scales along her neck move in a wavy motion. While he was busy stacking the bar, she stood up and soundlessly crept up behind him. Even if the room hadn't been carpeted, he would probably never heard her coming anyway. I knew I hadn't and I prided myself on being alert all the time. Her hand went around his waist and cupped his balls. My respect for the male luck fairy increased - if only slightly. He didn't drop the expensive bottle of Dream Wine he was about to put down. Nazha snaked her head down onto his shoulders. A long forked tongue slithered out of her mouth and touched his ear lobe.

"I can smell your fear," she hissed. Her other hand went around his body at chest height and I heard the noise her talons made as they passed through his chest hair. "I hope you won't embarrass yourself tonight," Nazha purred.

"And suddenly I'm not interesting any more," the dark elf quipped. Her voice was low and smoky and her command of the Elven tongue nearly flawless. She of course used sharp consonants one associates with their kind, a habit formed by centuries of demanding unfaltering obedience.

I turned my attention away from Nazha hazing the male luck fairy and offered the redhead my best smile. "My apologies, but I have stared enough already," I said.

Her response was a genuine smile. "I get that a lot, especially with this getup," she purred, tugging at the vest. "You're probably itching to know about my ink."

"Only if you're comfortable sharing," I said, going for a box of tokens. She slapped my hand away.

"No touching unless both parties agree that everything is in order," she said. "And while your opponent amuses herself..." Another grin, this time of the naughty variety.

"Nikym," I said, pointing at my chest. She had to carry the tray with both hands so I wasn't overly offended that she didn't offer a shake.

"Qu'litha." Her face lost its smile. The dark elf fixed me with an intense stare.

"Blooded One," I translated. "I'm afraid that's about the best I can do."

"Very good. Usually only priestesses of the Chaos Queen know the translation."

I shook my head. "The Trickster must have absconded with some of Her secrets."

"You had good teachers then." She looked past me.

Nazha had the pants of the barbarian down to his knees and, going by her arm movements, was busy fondling his cock and balls. The barbarian had not moved a muscle, the wine bottle still hovering a hand's width over the table.

"That's against the house rules, I guess?" I asked Qu'litha.

"Yup. But I'm not going to complain." The dark elf licked her lips. "I could look at his butt for days."

"That's all?"

"I wouldn't scold Lady Nazha for doing that to me either," Qu'litha said. "I'm not suicidal." She shot me a warning glare. "No funny business, you hear?"

I raised my hands before placing them on the table top. "I'll leave them where you can see them. Just tell me about that tattoo. I was expecting some spidery motif."

Qu'litha giggled. "It's not like I could defend myself. Master Lucky would probably be more angry about me dropping the tray than about my modesty." She sighed. "I used to carry a clockwork spider all over my body. The four hind legs would reach over my tits while the front legs would frame my pussy."

"Clockwork?"

"A specialty of my House. My father used to build traps, locks and other contraptions to rival even dwarven golem tech. It was a source of great pride." She sounded bitter.

"What happened? If I may ask."

Qu'litha laughed, a bitter little sound. "What always happens. The females ruin it all. My mother, may she rot in the vilest pits, had aspirations of greatness. Being the wife of a renowned tinkerer was not good enough, especially since his fame eclipsed hers a thousandfold. People came from all over the Depths to buy custom mechanisms and he could name any price. My mother could not let that stand. She began to plot. I was married off to another House in dire need of another priestess. She took several consorts and hoped to whelp a new batch of girls herself. And then, when she found out that one of my father's customers had paid with her own body, she flew into a rage and killed him along with all of his apprentices, robbing our House of the only thing which kept all others at bay. Everybody had bought locks from us and saw us as a somewhat untouchable fixture."

"My condolences."

Another barking laugh. "I have quickly learned to see the bright side in everything. My husband was a worshiper of the Trickster in secret, something I found out when he failed to return from a raid on the Surface and I looked at his belongings to find out if he might have abandoned me for another pussy. And without him, my new family was about to offer me to the Spider Queen, to curry Her favor for a stab at the ruling Houses. I decided that I might as well follow my husband. So I stole a Teleport scroll and a book with pictures of the Surface and got out of there in a hurry."

Someone else was in a hurry as well. The barbarian dashed from the room with impressive haste, especially considering that his trousers were at half mast.

Nazha slumped onto the chair, causing it to creak in protest. "What a disappointment. He didn't get it up at all." She looked at Qu'litha. "I hope you're of sterner stuff than His Limpdickishness."

"Before I can answer that, would Milord and Milady please inspect the implements of tonight's game and ascertain themselves of their adequacy?"

Nazha slapped Qu'litha's behind. I admired the dark elf's poise. Not a single token clattered as she effortlessly kept balance.

I glanced over the tray. Tokens in several denominations, three sealed card packs, fresh dice cups going by the tasty smell of new leather and several sets of dice, from the usual six-sided ones to a complement of polyhedrals and even a full suit of runestones.

"Looks fine to me," I said. "Nazha?"

"Lucky Thirteen knows better than to offer anything but the best," Nazha said. "Consider it adequate."

"Thank you." Qu'litha sat down the tray and divided the chips into two equal sets. "What will you be playing tonight?"

"Nothing too fancy," Nazha said, looking into my eyes. "High or Low, with escalating stakes." She grabbed two six-siders and a cup, placing the items onto the table. "Do I need to explain the rules?"

I shook my head. "Even I have tossed the occasional knucklebone. You call either high or low and depending on the sum of the dice, you either guessed right or wrong. Simple, yet brutal."

"Just how I like it," Nazha growled. Her long, pointed tongue slathered her lips.

Qu'litha took the tray behind the bar. "Anything to drink for Milord or Milady?"

"Get me a chalice of that Dream Wine your friend was cradling like a saint's baby," Nazha ordered without taking her eyes off me. "Don't tell me you're one of those refusing to drink while gambling."

"Depends on the stakes. Will my life be on the line tonight?"

Nazha laughed. "Keep this up and it won't be."

"Then I'll have the same as my scaled host here."

"You know, Nikym," Nazha said, her voice a low, thoughtful purr, "ever since you slipped from my claws sixty years ago, I wondered about you. There are not many who can fight me to a draw. And afterwards, you practically disappeared like a shadow in a pitch-black cavern. No matter who I asked, no one seemed to know about you or your exploits. That takes some skill."

I shrugged. "I just value my privacy. And that of my clients. When a job is done, I tend to change locales for a bit."

"And yet, you're again in Storm Harbor." Nazha inspected the tokens, flicking a thousand-gold disc into the air. "Urs couldn't stop gushing about you," she said. "'Very capable. Loyal. Efficient' he said." She placed the chip onto the table between us. "I like these traits. And I like to play with high stakes. Let's use these first few rounds to sniff each other a bit."

"It's not like I have a choice." I matched her bet. "You may have the first toss."

"Then pray your generosity won't bite your own ass," Nazha said, grinning. "High." She grabbed the dice, tossed them into the cup and shook vigorously.

"Do you want me to record the game?" Qu'litha asked, joining us at the table with two crystal chalices full of Dream Wine.

"Why not?" Nazha lowered the dice cup. "That way, no one can complain when I rob you blind."

Qu'litha produced a small wax tablet from a pocket of her vest. "Two thousand on High," she proclaimed, scratching at the wax with a metal stylus.

Nazha slammed the cup onto the table. The dice came up six.

"Six. Low," Qu'litha announced. "Two thousand for Master Nikym."

I added the chips to my total. "How quickly do you want to escalate?" I asked Nazha.

"Make it interesting," she suggested. Her eyes roamed over my body as if it was a particularly tasty steak.

"Alright. Three grand on High," I said, counting out the chips. Nazha matched my bet. "What if one of us goes bust?"

"Then the real fun begins. Coins are just the warm-up. Let's play favors afterwards."

"Oh, dangerous footing," I said, claiming the dice. "Anything in particular?"

"I'll think of something," Nazha said.

"Six thousand on High," Qu'litha announced. I shook the cup quickly and rolled the dice. They came up a ten.

"Six thousand gold for Sir Nikym."

"You're one lucky bastard," Nazha complained while I collected my winnings.

"And I didn't even cheat," I remarked. "You only have one thousand left."

"Here's where the real fun begins," Nazha said, baring her fangs. "All of my money against all of yours." She shot Qu'litha a sidelong glance. "You have no problem with this?"

The dark elf shrugged. "I am only an observer. As long as both parties agree, I have nothing to say."

"That's what I like to hear," Nazha said, picking up her chalice. Her claws caused the crystal to tinkle.

"That will be a quick game," I said. "As you wish. All in." I motioned at my chips.

"Splendid," Nazha purred. She refilled the dice cup and shook it thoroughly. "All on high."

"All in on High," Qu'litha said, marking her tablet.

Nazha slammed the dice onto the table. The wine glasses nearly toppled, saved only by a quick grasp by Qu'litha. The dice ended up an eight.

"I was wondering when Sikka would finally grace me with her kiss," Nazha said, using both hands to pull the chips her way. She stood up and reclaimed the box which initially held them and swiped all the chips into the box which she offered Qu'litha. "Your tip."

The dark elf paled. "For... me?"

"Yes, for being such a dutiful part of our evening." Nazha looked deep into Qu'litha's eyes. "I hope this will guarantee your undivided attention for the rest of the game?"

The dark elf chewed on her lip. One didn't need to be a mind reader to understand what hadn't been said. Nazha was about to take the game further, much further than Lucky Thirteen would ever allow. I congratulated the half-dragon with a silent toast for her expert move. Ten grand were nothing to sneeze at. Qu'litha could most likely quit her job and buy herself a cozy town house and enough luxuries for a few quiet years.

Qu'litha left our table and locked the door from the inside. Then she stripped off the luck fairy garments, stuffed them under the bar and returned to the table. Now, without the high-riding pants in the way, I could see the rest of her tattoo. It was a silver-haired dark elf reaching for her tits and shoulders, the hair spilling over her crotch and insides of her thigh.

"I did not ask for this," Nazha said. "But I appreciate the view." Her tongue flicked out. I could see small bumps form on each of her breasts.

Qu'litha grinned. "Master Lucky can scry on these clothes. Putting them into the drawer under the bar means his 'eye' can only see what's in the drawer. Your dirty secrets are safe with me." She picked up the wax tablet again. "Thanks to the ...tip, both parties are even. What will you play for now?"

"A dare," Nazha said, fangs bared in a fierce grin.

My insides decided that now was the time to curl up and huddle in a corner. Here I was, opposite a naked half-dragon, next to a beautiful naked dark elf, fully armed and wearing my magical defenses - and I could feel cold sweat gather in the palms of my hands. Before, I had thought many legends about Nazha to be drastically over-exaggerated, but now, sitting across from her, looking at the mad gleam in her eyes and the unnerving glint on her exposed teeth, I realized that most of them probably were true.

But I have never shied away from a challenge. She wouldn't ask for anything lethal, not that early in the game. So... what was I afraid of?

"A dare then. Will you declare before or after we roll?"

"After, of course. Don't want you to chicken out. And you will have time to think about your own dare. Pick 'em up."

I tossed the dice into the cup and shook it. "Low. As low as my expectations to get out of this in one piece."

"A favor on Low," Qu'litha announced.

The cup came down onto the felt. The dice stopped moving. I lifted the leather vessel.

Seven.

If Nazha's grin could have grown any wider, it would have taken the top half of her skull off.

"I dare you to pleasure our lovely luck fairy with your mouth." Nazha proclaimed. "Since she so graciously offered." The half-dragon's hand caressed down Qu'litha's stomach and dipped between the dark elf's thighs. I could see goosebumps erupt on her jet-black skin and heard her inhale sharply as Nazha's finger invaded her.

"Are you... all right with this?" I asked the naked dark elf.

"Why should I not be?" Qu'litha said. "I am a grown woman and able to make my own decisions." Locking eyes with Nazha, she asked. "I could leave whenever, right?"

The half-dragon nodded, nostrils wide. "Although it would be a pity if you did."

Qu'litha swayed her hips, with Nazha still fingering her. "Where does Milady want me?"

"On the sofa of course. We don't want the table to be disturbed. It's said that brings bad luck." Nazha said. She withdrew her hand. Her index and middle finger glistened wetly. She licked them clean, then turned her chair to face the sofa.

Qu'litha sat down on the couch, leaned into the cushions and fixed me with a long, scorching stare. "Don't let me wait, seriso," she purred. "Lady Nazha would probably be pretty displeased if I did myself."