The chance of this guy having a straight was low, but possible. I couldn't pick up on any tells. I've always been a lousy poker player. That, and how are you supposed to read the tells of Death himself? Simply impossible, that's what this was. I wasn't a boss of any sort; just a lousy Spear Guard. Not that I'm hating on my own abilities, but still. Throwing my hand onto the table, I gave up. Somehow, I managed to toss my hand with my hand of cards. I quickly fumbled trying to get the gauntlet back on while I complained.

"I can't do it! I don't know how people win against you!"

Death let out a soft chuckle.

"Simple. You get lucky on the draw. Same with staying alive; you just get lucky long enough to live out a decent lifespan. That's what makes this game so appealing."

Of course Death plays poker for the luck aspect. I get the feeling that Death might have an unhealthy fascination with gambling. Not like the guy can die anyway. Actually...

"Ever played Richter in a game of cards, Death?"

Death, surprised by such a question, responded rather quickly.

"No, I haven't. He doesn't play Poker. He's too busy for anything of the sort. For now, at least."

Death leaned in close.

"Don't tell anyone else I said this, but I've heard that Richter is awful at Poker."

Everyone else at the table initially scoffed, but we eventually began to laugh. A Dhuron spoke from its dismembered head.

"Richter!? Bad at something like Poker? HAH! No way! Poker is basically predicting your opponent's actions. Richter's being doing that for years!"

Death nodded in agreement, but retorted.

"Sure, he's excellent at fighting. However, out of a stress inducing situation, Richter can't really pick up on a tell or etc."

"What?"

"Yeah, it's true. The Belmont's training constantly puts him in stress-inducing situations. They aren't really trained for social tells. Predicting a swing and predicting a smile are two different things."

Everyone at the table, including myself, was shocked. Death had an excellent point. The Dhuron chuckled and began.

"I guess that means he's easy gold."

That amused Death immensely. Not that he actually laughed; he just shook his head side to side.

"No. Richter knows that he is awful at card games. There's no way you can force him into a game of cards. He's keen on keeping his pride, and coffer, intact."

Speaking of the devil, Richter had walked into the kitchen carrying a box of nails and an axe. That's an interesting substitute for a hammer.

"So, who's winning?"

Nonchalantly, Death said,

"I am, of course."

"Death, give these poor sods a chance. They need to keep some gold."

"It's their fault for going up against me in a game of luck."

Richter just laughed and walked out the hole in the wall that was going to be the backdoor to the center garden, which also housed the altar.

Silence, until I realized something. I had to voice this out or I would've bashed in a skull.

"Death, we don't CHOOSE to go against you! You just force yourself into our games! We all know better than to play you in a game of cards!"

Death began to chuckle slightly, which faltered when he noticed everyone staring at him. Getting up from the table, he bowed and vanished. Of course the prick would do that. He might as well be a dragon, with his lust for gold. The Dhuron broke the silence.

"So, who is up for another game?"

A collective murmur rose from the group as I started dealing out cards.