Chương 120: Chapter 2.57: Pokerface

Favius plastered a smile onto his face and nodded.

"Sounds good. Let's clean up the table." He gestured, and the cultivators did as he asked. He turned towards the box. Not sure if that conversation went well or poorly. I guess not having them march off to start the revolution right now is already a win. He lifted the box onto the table. What Brutus told me in the cave makes more and more sense. And if he says he has it all under control even without me having to reveal anything important to those people…

He looked around at the three recently arrived strangers who somehow felt dangerous and familiar at the same time. The boy opened the lid of the box and took out the pile of paper sheets, each the size of an adult's hand. He picked up a card and twisted it between his fingers and smiled. Seven of the West. Right. Let's hope my adaptation of a classical card set works out. He handed one card to each of the cultivators, and they all played with the strongly sized paper. Phaidros held out his card for all to see.

The others murmured, but Brutus grinned in challenge.

"Who's to say that the Warrior card is better than our numbers, Brother?" Favius was only half listening as he prepared the cards. He straightened, having put them down onto the table.

"Sorry to disappoint, but he actually did get the best card." Phaidros's smile widened, but Favius raised two fingers to prevent the inevitable bickering.

"Numbers go from two to ten. As for the other cards..." He gestured at the ones he had decorated with the symbols of the gods.

"You can think of them as having a number value starting from..." He pointed at the black Queen of the North and smiled. Never liked the suits in the first place on Earth. So from now on, celestial directions it is. But the colors... they kind of make sense. He laid the face cards out one by one.

"Daughter, Mother, Warrior, and those two..." He gestured at the cards marked with the symbol of Oblivion and the Messenger.

"... are special." Brutus narrowed his eyes.

"Every face and number has four of them. But the Messenger... there are only two of those, correct?" Favius nodded.

"Indeed. The Messenger is a trickster. His card is special and will not be involved in every game." The cultivators nodded, and a smile spread over Raukhan's face.

"So this is a game of divine providence that was taught to you in a dream?"

"Something like that." Duran's voice was unusually serious.

"What of the card marked with Oblivion?"

"You notice that there is no card numbered with one, right?" The cultivators nodded, and Favius gestured.

"Well, Oblivion's nature is paradoxical, so this card can serve either the role of the first or the highest card above the Warrior."

"Above the Warrior," murmured Phaidros, scratching his chin. Duran narrowed his eyes.

"There's an interesting significance to this. I've seen diviners playing with similar cards, but..." He gestured at Brutus.

"What is the meaning of the values? Warrior over Mother? Mother over Daughter?" Brutus winked at Favius, who took a deep breath to speak up. But it was too late. The Magnicultor was already off the rails.

"Well, to begin with, we have to consider the Warrior's supremacy over the female members of the pantheon by virtue of his manliness." Favius groaned and slumped.

"Brutus..." But the other cultivators were simply nodding along.

"Ah, and by that logic," continued Raukhan, "the Mother is to be preferred over the Daughter in all things." The other men chuckled, and Phaidros cleared his throat.

"There is a child present, brother." Favius raised a hand.

"Stop this. All of this. I just picked symbols that felt kind of right. There's no significance to this. I literally came up with it this morning." The cultivators paused.

"No significance?" murmured Raukhan, his hand hovering between two cards.

"But clearly, if there's an order, and if the Fates determine which card is drawn..." Favius made a sharp gesture.

"No. The symbols could have been anything else. Can we talk about this later and move on to the game?" He grinned.

"Well, games." Phaidros nodded emphatically.

"Indeed, brothers. Let us not concern ourselves with trivialities that would delay my victory any longer." Brutus flicked an olive at his brother-in-law, who caught it with a swift bite out of the air.

"The first game is Mau Mau. It is the foundational game of cards, as it explains the simplest rules." He put the cards together, and a smile played over his face as he split the pile into two and let them run into each other with his thumbs, mixing them several times. Good thing they got the sizing right so that this works. The game began, and the cultivators, just as Favius had expected, got the hang of matching face or suit without any issues. Favius nodded as Duran won the first round.

As the third round of Mau Mau came to an end, Phaidros paused, holding a Queen a handspan over the card pile.

"I myself said, no more politics, but..." Favius's lips pressed into a thin line as he studied the man. Phaidros looked at Brutus.

"The Kestrelo Matriarch told me not to cause trouble, support you where necessary, and protect you during your ascension as a proper guardian of a fellow hero." Brutus snorted.

"Truly, what surprising news, Brother." A grin spread over Phaidros's face as he placed down the Heart Mother card, leaving only one card in his hand. Favius played next, and Phaidros continued.

"My wife, on the other hand, told me to do whatever I thought necessary to support her dear brother." A smile spread over Favius's face as the cultivators roared with laughter. The round was finished quickly. Phaidros again paused, holding up a card and turning it around.

"Looks like I won." He smiled, his face next to the mirrored symbol of the Messenger. Favius clicked his tongue.

"Indeed. Looks like you got third place, Uncle." Phaidros's chest shot forward.

"Bah. We're merely learning the game, boy. And after all, I claim to be the champion of any game of skill. In games of chance, only the gods would be able to win every single time." Favius nodded, and everybody played their cards down. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Before he could even say anything, Raukhan grabbed and mixed the pile just as Favius had done before. The boy, in turn, smiled.

Well, I told myself not to bring anything stupid from Earth, but surely... what harm can a little bit of gambling do? He took a leather pouch from the box and dropped it onto the table. With a jingling metallic thud, he opened it and split the copper wedges into five equal piles.

"The next game is called poker." He grinned.

"Consider this a loan. You may pay me back later." Not that it was easy to convince Serran to give me that amount of money in copper quarters. Favius briefly explained the rules as he remembered them. Five cards. Then he laid out the various winning hands.

"In poker, as in cultivation," he began, "the rule is that power stands above all. The highest card wins. Unless..." He lowered his voice theatrically.

"... a party of heroic cards can be found in a providential configuration." He quickly demonstrated flushes, straights, sets, and, with a smile, a perfect straight flush from ten to Messenger.

"We'll play the first game with open hands." He quickly shut down the conversation the cultivators started about the significance of the rankings and how it was obvious that the symmetry of a straight flush made it superior to all the others. Yet, for some reason, Duran argued quite fiercely that a strict hierarchy wasn't appropriate.

"Believe me, if I have four of Oblivion, how ought a simple sequence overcome that which ought to be the highest principle?" Favius sniffed.

"Guys, it's a game. The rules are there to have fun." Finally, the cards were placed down, and Favius studied his own. Well, two sevens, a ten and two Daughters. He pointed at them.

"Look, between all of our cards, I actually have a strong deck."

"So that means you win?" said Phaidros, leaning over with a skeptical expression. But Favius chuckled.

"That means I have good odds of winning. After all, normally we wouldn't know each other's decks. But while we play this game, I'm actually kind of curious." He looked between Brutus, Duran, and Raukhan.

"How did the three of you actually meet?" The three men chuckled and exchanged looks.

"It's a bit of a story."

"It's a bit of a night," interjected Phaidros. Favius nodded.

"Well," began Brutus, and slapped Duran on the shoulder.

"For the two of us, it's quite simple. We're both the greatest talents of our generation in Rhexion, and our estates were close, so naturally we grew up as best friends and ideal rivals." Duran shook his head, but the side of his mouth twitched in response to Brutus's broad grin. Favius nodded, but Phaidros raised a copper quarter.

"So how does this work?"

"We are playing two rounds. It's a game of confidence, luck, and deception. The betting..." He raised a copper quarter of his own.

"... is what adds spice to the card game." The others hummed, and Favius continued.

"Initially, a player may either check or bet," he explained. Phaidros glowered at his sequenceless pile of low-numbered cards.

"I guess I'll check then."

"A wise choice. With my cards, I'll obviously bet." He flicked a copper quarter into the center of the table, where it bounced before lying still, glinting in the firelight. He turned back to Brutus.

"Well, I could have guessed that you met in your childhood. After all, both of you are from Rhexion."

"Indeed. And while there are plenty of stories to be told about how we grew up..." The ranger smirked.

"I don't think that's what you're really interested in."

"At least for now," smiled Favius. The ranger studied his own cards.

"Well, with those I'll check as well."

"You can't. Once the first person has bet instead of checked, you can only call, raise, or fold. And keep in mind, there will be a second round of betting." Favius explained the terms, and in the end the ranger nodded.

"Call." He too flicked a copper quarter, which landed perfectly on Favius's, forming a neat little stack. Raukhan huffed at that, and Brutus continued.

"Not so fast. For context, we ought to tell him a little of our beautiful home." He clicked his tongue.

"Bet." Two copper quarters were flicked onto the pile with perfect precision. Phaidros and Raukhan whistled, and the Minurian cultivator wiggled his eyebrows at the warrior. But Duran spoke up before another round of bickering could ensue.

"Rhexion lies within a sheltered round valley. The walls of Cindrath may be tall, but the passes and our rangers make Rhexion an impenetrable fortress." Favius's eyes narrowed.

"How big is that valley?" Brutus sniffed.

"In terms of your units, about five kilostrides across." Favius clicked his tongue. Five-kilometer diameter. That's quite big but not unheard of, I think. Then again, I could be wrong. I was never an expert on that kind of geology. Raukhan nodded.

"The sides and the nearby mountains are rich in copper and gold." Favius raised an eyebrow. Well, copper and gold... I think those are associated with volcanism. Then Phaidros put in the death knell.

"Bah. You haven't mentioned the best feature of Rhexion. I may have come to the city for your sister, Ovinius Kestrelo, but I stayed for the hot springs." Favius raised an eyebrow. Well, a circular valley, copper and gold deposits, and hot springs. That pretty much settles it. Phaidros and Raukhan grinned.

"Indeed. The fact that every estate's baths have them, and their endless varieties—some sulphurous, some sandy, some muddy—it is a rather intriguing part of that city."

"And also why we don't freeze our asses off in winter," smirked Duran. But Favius just sat there playing with a copper quarter. So it's a large fucking caldera. Well, I knew there are volcanoes on the islands in the Sea of Dust, places like Morath. This sounds bad. But, well, considering Japan or the American west coast, volcanoes can be dormant for a long time. They are safe until they aren't.

"Are there more places like that in the Rhexar Mountains?" Brutus tilted his head.

"Depending on how you count, there's five to nine similar plateaus." Duran raised his hand.

"Bah, the northern messes don't count. There's only six. And the one that Blue Mountains sits nearby—" Brutus raised two fingers.

"Also, the Rhexar Mountains are where the volcanic ash that our Majordomo is so fond of importing whenever the prices are good—and is now being used for the cement for your workshops—is being extracted." Favius sniffed. That sounds like the bloody Cascadian Range. Well, not that that is likely something I need to concern myself with. After all, nothing bad has ever happened on the American west coast. Well, apart from Mount St. Helens.

He shuddered at the memory of standing over the valley that had been torn asunder by the erupting mountain. That's still my first experience when I truly understood how small humans are compared to nature. As Favius sat there in silent contemplation, Raukhan spoke up.

"Not that my cards are good, but as a true Thrari warrior, there's only one thing I can do."

"Call." He too flipped two copper quarters, and the other cultivators jeered as they knocked down the until-now somewhat imperfect tower the others had built with their coins.

"Just what I would expect of a Thrari barbarian," commented Phaidros smugly as he sighed.

"But I'll fold as well." Favius looked at Raukhan, whose eyebrows twitched at the Minurian's comment.

"So you joined them in Rhexion?"

"No, no," began Raukhan, and filled up a cup of wine. Favius continued the explanation.

"Very well. Now that there's money in the pot and we've all finished the first round, you may now replace zero to three cards from your hand with newly drawn ones." He himself replaced only the ten and got an Ace, and the other cultivators followed his example to varying degrees. Phaidros grinned broadly. All three cards he drew were eights. He smiled as he looked over at Favius.

"Four eights and the Daughter. Truly I am beloved by the Fates and Muses alike." The others jeered, but as the game continued with the inevitable betting, Phaidros took the hand. Favius smiled at Phaidros.

"See? It isn't that complicated." He handed out the cards as Raukhan began explaining.

"To understand what happened, let me tell you of the lands beyond the Rhexar Mountains, what you Irilians call the Wilderlands." He leaned in, and Favius again felt the distant smell of wine and the noises of a revelrous party.

"From the far north, a mighty river descends towards the Rhexar Mountains, only to be turned away near the greatest Rhexioni colony, the City of Coal and Slaves." He sniffed and took another sip of wine, and Favius followed his example, enjoying the heady liquid.

"The forests in the far foothills of the mountains are inhabited by a barbaric people, ruled by tribal chieftains and possessing no loyalty or faith beyond the bounds of whoever they believe might have fathered them." Favius winced as the other cultivators cheered their agreement. Raukhan raised a hand.

"But as you go to the east, the forests fade. And between olive and acacia, and especially at the shores of the great river, rolling plains, grassy valleys, and gentle hills form the land of my people."

"Who possess no more culture than the barbarians of the forest," interjected Duran. Without even looking, Raukhan flicked a copper quarter at the grinning ranger. Favius shook his head. Well, a bunch of buddies making racist jokes about each other. Not that I wasn't familiar with this stuff on Earth. Raukhan grinned broadly.

"Unlike the lowly foresters or your so-called civilized cities of Minurians and Irilians, my people know that the gods created the beauty of the world to be appreciated. And how else is a man to appreciate it than by traveling the lands of his birth on horseback?"

"Obviously, on the back of a wagon," interjected Brutus. Raukhan shrugged.

"What need we concern ourselves with the customs of womenfolk? No, a true man lives on the back of his horse." He ran his fingers over a raven feather in his hair.

"The only reason why a Thrari might settle down is to cultivate wine within a beautiful valley."

"Indeed," nodded Phaidros and grinned at Favius.

"How else but with a large amount of alcohol might such a vagrant lifestyle be bearable?" Raukhan smirked.

"Said the man in exile from the city of his birth." Phaidros shook his head and lowered his eyes. Favius studied his cards for the next round. Well, not a great hand, so...

"Check," he began. The game continued as Raukhan kept elaborating on the beauties of Thraria. As Phaidros won the first real game of poker with a smug smile, he held up a hand and leaned towards Favius.

"Don't let the barbarian befuddle you, boy. The Thrarii are mighty horsemen, that much is true. Yet they possess no culture, no refinement, no property, and no civilization." Raukhan sniffed.

"There's little use in what you call civilization, Phaidros. Our gatherings—" Favius cleared his throat.

"Might we get back to my original question?"

"Indeed!" Brutus slapped Raukhan on the shoulder, and the tribal warrior gave a chagrined expression as he studied his new draw of cards. They played another hand where Favius explained the concept of bluffing, and this time Duran won.

"Should have stayed in that last round."

"True, boy, but you didn't," replied the ranger. During the next hand, Brutus leaned forward.

"Well, the story of how we met this barbarian begins with..." Duran pressed his eyes shut and groaned into his hands.

"A tale of how our dear ranger attempted to get under the robes of a pair of twin sisters. Obviously, he roped me into his harebrained plot, leading to us running away from home in the dead of night."