Jadoh

"Just please," he finished. "Don't be stupid and find us some work. I'm looking at you, Jadoh." Did he have to call me out? I didn't make an overt effort to acknowledge him. I quit while I was ahead, or rather, before I was too hard behind and accepted the criticism. On the one hand, he wasn't wrong. I did quite make an ass of myself on Whale Tail, but that wouldn't be the case this time.

Gordez, as per what I was beginning to see was the norm with him, stayed on the ship. A normal person would call his behavior, never stepping on dry land, to be something of insanity, and lucky for me, I was a normal person, at least when put side by side with Gordez, and so, I didn't hesitate to label him as insane in my mind. The man never left The Patriot. Hell, he barely left the engine room as it was. He lived down there. He was the only one with a room outside of the superstructure in the dark bowels of the vessel.

It was strange to say the least, but as he went about his business, or lack thereof, the rest of our mercenary band, whatever our name was, The Patriots? Went about finding whatever work we could in this town. Zek and Ka'lira to the market, probably doing some shopping with whatever money Boss gave them Luke to the smithy, probably buying some weapon or some shit to give him his sick kicks, whatever the hell that little sadist wanted, with the money Boss gave him, and me, to the tavern. I saw now that it may have been perfectly applicable to apply the same distrust for me, after what was an unfortunate, but secluded incident on Whale Tail. I tried telling Boss as much, but the stubborn bastard wouldn't believe me. After just one slip up! Didn't even give me any spending money around town. Hell, a few coppers would've done just fine. Especially if he wanted me to be getting information. Information costs money, I tried to tell him. Well. It was fine. I had other ways of making the cash I needed. I could handle myself. And when I came back to Boss with our next contract, maybe they'd stop snickering behind my back, still cracking quips about my performance at Whale Tail. By Raava! Would they ever let it go!?

It was around noon when I slipped into the tavern. It was rather full to say the least, and my presence caught a few eyes. Odd. Never got these looks in Earth Kingdom taverns. No matter. Just had to find a gambling table. There were always loose coppers lying around that big winners didn't care to pick up. I'd buy my way in and win high enough to at least get some information. And of course, I'd have to blend in. 1 or 2 drinks would be enough. Maybe 3. Nothing strong, though. Just enough to help me blend in.

It was easy enough to find the gambling table. Dice. Perfect. Never had a problem with luck at dice. It wasn't exactly the hardest to win. 2 dice were thrown. You only won if both dice favored you. So the house had the same chance of success as the gambler. I liked that. Even footing.

So, the day came off to an easy enough start as I managed to nab a particularly convenient copper piece lying on the ground, a few rolls away from the chair that now sat empty as its previous occupant made off, well off enough to ignore the missing copper piece. The house, however, didn't seem particularly perturbed. Judging by his look, he was either expecting a repeat customer out of his last gamble, and an eventual payday, or he had already made enough so far so as not to be dissuaded by one lost bet. Both the former and the latter were equally viable options at the moment. I checked out the menu above the bar to see just how much exactly I would need for a few drinks. One beer was around 5 coppers. Not bad. I could work up to that so long as I didn't let myself lose my first copper in a matter of seconds. Make it 2 to 3 drinks, 15 coppers, and for some good information, a nice silver. I could work this out. Back home, dice was my game. Why would it be any different here?

So I approached the wooden table, pulling back the chair, scraping it along the floor, attracting the eye of the dealer who, well, judging by his look, was not quite thrilled by my appearance.

"Get out of here, kid. I'm waiting for real player."

Kid? I was fourteen. Hadn't been called a kid in quite a while. I was likely the oldest in my town who could still walk on both legs without throwing my back. "I'm a real player."

"Really now? How much?"

Fuck me. The literal lowest amount of currency in this entire economy. "A copper piece?"

"Fuck off, kid. I'm busy."

"Oh come on! Everybody else here is either getting drunk down here or getting laid upstairs. Just let me deal in so we can both do something while we're not doing anything else."

He looked at the door to the tavern. Still closed, no shadow beneath, a door that'd be closed for perhaps a bit longer.

"Fuck it," he said. "Fine. Deal in. let's get this over with."

I put down my piece. 1 copper. If I lost here, I was out. He put down a piece of his own. I called my bet. One cross one circle. He rolled the dice. 4-sided, 2 sides marked with crosses, or Xs, the other two with circles. He rolled, calling dual crosses. The result was dual circles. No winner. I kept my call, he kept his. He rolled. One cross one circle. I took his piece. He took another peek at the door, hoping for some saving grace to walk in and relieve him of this low-stakes game. I put down my bet. Only one piece. The idea was to not come out broke. If betting less than desired was the way to do so, then so be it. I bet one piece. I learned one thing betting back home, and that was never to go all in. Just made it easier to lose everything you had on you for the slight chance of a bigger return. There was no such thing as a sure bet. If there was one thing I learned back home while my friends were off fighting a war, stuck with old geezers, it was gambling. Fishing and gambling.

I bet my piece, after a while, won again. Bet 2 pieces next. Won. Then 3. Lost. Back down to 2 pieces. Bet and won. Bet 2 pieces again. Up to 5 pieces. Bet 4 this time. I felt more confident. Won. Up to 9. Bet 6. Took 4 rolls to reach a conclusion. Won. Up to 15. Bet 10. Lost. Down to 5. Went in with 4. Won. Up to 9. Bet 6 again. Won. Back to 15. He was no longer looking at the door. I bet 10 one last time, he put his equivalent down. A silver. We rolled 7 times. And now stakes were involved. He was no longer looking over my shoulder towards the door. He was in this game. And on the seventh role, the first cross appeared. And I waited for the second I had bet on. It rolled, rolled, and rolled, off the table, landed. And our eyes met for a split second before we rushed to find the game-determining sign. Would it be a circle in his favor, or a cross in mine. So when I saw those 2 beautiful perpendicular lines, coming together in a satisfying 90-degree angle, pointing in all cardinal directions on a map, I knew I was out. I grabbed my winnings, a happy man. It was my day today. Lady luck chose her side.

So I sat at the counter. And I waited. The tender saw me, shook his head, and passed. Busy with another customer, I told myself. So he kept on passing me by, but still, I waited. I waited until his patrons were dormant, and he leaned against the counter, idle, polishing glasses, completely ignoring the man, a willing customer, waiting patiently, perhaps too patiently.

"Umm. Excuse me?"

He looked up right after polishing his latest glass, catching my gaze. "Yes?"

"A drink? Please?"

He looked at me. "You don't look eighteen, kid."

Eighteen. Are you fucking kidding me? "Is that a problem?"

"Sorry. Don't serve kids."

"A kid? I'm 14. People younger than me are fighting the war right now. I'm not a kid."

"Law says otherwise, kid."

"I'm not a kid, and what fucking laws? Earth Kingdom doesn't give a shit about age. And certainly not for something as petty as booze."

"Not in the Earth Kingdom, kid. See those banners as you came into town? Fire Nation occupation zone, Fire Nation town, Fire Nation laws. And by these laws, you're a kid. So what do you want, a leaf tea?"

It wasn't hard to notice the laughter of the man I had been gambling with only moment ago as he now took my humiliation and treatment as a fair enough trade for the 15 coppers and one silver he lost. He walked up to the counter, chuckling to himself quietly as he put down 5 coppers, and was just as swiftly slid a nice and ready cup of ale. As he left to return to his own seat, he turned to me, smiled, saying "Tough luck."

I turned back to the barkeep. "No. Fuck that. I want information. What can a silver buy me?"

"Information. What do you want to know? When the Ember Island Players come to town so you can get off to the actresses from the back row?"

That spurred another wave of laughter from the gambler in the back. I turned back. "Enjoying yourself, dickhead?"

"Hey, kid. Just enjoying the show. Don't mind me."

I shook my head and turned back to the barkeep. I was through with this. "Alright Thanks, asshole. Fuck you," I turned back to the gambler. "And fuck you too."

Fire Nation laws my ass. Didn't give a shit about these laws in Whale Tail. I got up from where I was seated at the counter, making my way out the door when a group of 4 men in tattered rags walked in, some bearing weapons, all of them covered in mud, and some in dry blood. Form what I saw, some belonging to them, and some not. This could be interesting. So I didn't leave just yet. I took a seat.

"Hey, kid! Cried the gambler. You ain't leaving, you little shit?"

I turned and said, "Shut the fuck up."

That silenced him for a moment. The 4 men sat at the counter and were ordering drinks, which they were all given in turn. I was done sulking over the lost refreshment. I was listening now.

"Hey!" called the gambler. "You men look pretty worse for wear. Nothing like some good easy money to raise your spirits!"

The 4 men turned to him in a synchronized gaze of both weariness, but enough stored anger to surpass that exhaustion and put the man in his place. He noticed this easily enough, and silence ensued. The bartender saw enough to not antagonize either, and went about his work, only interacting with his newest patrons to slide them a refill or a stronger drink.

It was only after a few minutes of hard drinking that the first of their voices in the dead-silent tavern spoke up. "What are we going to tell the Boss?"

"We'll tell him what happened. Mercenaries. Probably Earth Kingdom, or hell, some rival Fire Nation commander. You know how it is with them."

"We won't tell him what we think," said a third. "We'll tell him only what we know. We got ambushed. Caravan got robbed. Caravanners all killed."

"Yeah, but we lived," said the first. "Doesn't exactly make us the best hired guards if we're the only ones that lived."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," said the second, likely the leader of them, while the 4th drank himself into a deep slumber. "We're alive. Probably won't get hired on this island again any time soon, but we lived. We'll find work somewhere else."

"Hell," said the 1st. We already got kicked out of Chin. Chin for crying out loud with that band of idiots."

"Doesn't matter. We'll head for the fortress tomorrow. Tell the commander what happened."

"But the caravan is still out there. We don't know if they're alive or dead."

"You heard the screams," said the third, speaking up again. "They have to be dead."

"But what if they're not? I mean. What if they're being held somewhere?"

"Then for all intents and purposes, they're dead. Look, Kiff. Mercenaries don't like caring for prisoners. Dead weight and drain on resources. Even if they survived the initial fight, they won't last long."

"And the caravan's supplies?"

"Theirs now, wherever the hell they are. But it's not our problem. Not anymore. If it's anyone's problem now, it's Zehehe's. Hopefully the Jianghezhen fortress will send word by raven. They should know they're not getting their shipment."

And there it was. A job. I smiled. That would show, Boss. That would show them. We had work. And unlike this crew, we would get results, and we would get paid.