3

"You can't be fucking serious…!?" he growled, lowering his head to better glare at the Plague Doctor from across the table. She tilted her own infuriating head to the side and folded her hands neatly in front of her cards ( Pocket fucking aces! ). And he'd turned over the other two aces. He'd had a fucking full house to start …

A fucking full house to start. Let's repeat that so that it can sink in properly. A. Fucking. Full. House. To. Start.

And somehow against all odds, the fourth eight had flipped on the fucking River. ON THE RIVER the FOURTH EIGHT! For the first time in his life, Tardif had a four of a kind. He'd wagered it all, his body, his time, his very self. What were the odds of him losing? Astronomical really. How could he have fathomed that she would have POCKET fucking ACE?! WHO GETS POCKET ACES?!

"Four ones." Her voice was muffled and dejected, she'd gone all in too (on the River mimicking his bets). He'd frozen in absolute shock as he stared at the cards she'd put on the table. Time had come to a stop and he could hear the beating of his heart as it echoed like thunder in his head. His eyes fixated on her cards.

No...

That he was able to lower his own cards so calmly, as though he weren't staring into the very mouth of the abyss, just barely hanging on to his sanity, was unbelievable. How. How …? His body started shaking uncontrollably and he barely managed to not rip the cards into millions of little pieces or flip the very table on which they were playing across the room. H O W ?

"You have four eights," she muttered and then sighed, "You beat me it seems." Her voice grated on Tardif's nerves so much that his fingers clenched on the table as though it were her scrawny fucking neck. His pride and honour were clamoring in his head as he gritted his teeth, feeling the veins on the side of his neck start popping out of his skin. He'd given her his word .

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

"Aces," he snapped, his eyebrow twitching behind his helmet (FUCK!). She shrugged in a nonchalant manner and waved that detail off. His muscles clenched simultaneously as he visualized his fingers about her throat again. He barely moved a muscle beneath her goggled stare.

"I win?" she queried, in surprise. He snorted and nodded once, the bones in his neck cracking loudly. He pressed his lips tightly together to prevent making a fool of himself by asking for a rematch (FUCK!).

The bitch won fair and square. Light be damned. He just kept his shoulders from drooping in defeat.

She clapped her hands together like a child and squealed. "Oooo, so that means you're mine!" (FUCK!)

"I said I would listen ," he clarified, his voice tense. She tilted her head again and he heard his teeth grinding in his mouth loudly. He was going to kill her, if she didn't kill him first with her incessant chatter.

"You wagered your body on the fifth card," she reminded him.

"The River," he corrected her automatically and then clenched his hands into fists. "What do you want then?" he forced out.

She was staring at him in the same manner he imagined she stared at a frog she was dissecting, as if he were one of her many experiments. "A long adventure," she said calmly, "I promised myself a…"

"Done," he cut her off and got to his feet, "Let's go."

She jumped to her own feet and stomped the ground. "We can't! You just got back!"

"And I'm already good to go," he growled, feeling his ire increase a smidgen.

"We're only two!" she put both her gloved fists on her hips and leaned forward a little.

"Find your party and let's get this over with."

She nodded at him quickly and bolted from the Tavern. He watched her go with a sense of dread and foreboding. He remained calm as he lowered his head to look at their cards, at her hand specifically. Pocket aces…

He shook his head and walked away from the gaming hall. He was done with poker for a long time now. It was this place. Things weren't right in the hamlet.

He better understood now what their last bounty, Dismas, had meant by the reward on his head being paltry. The rewards he'd gotten from that last run that had killed Jason had stumped him over twenty thousand gold coins. If Jason had lived he would have gladly have kept going. They'd always watched each other's backs. He'd had every intention of taking the next coach out of here... fuck.

He took a deep breath as he made his way back towards the bar. The barkeep handed him a green bottle (he dropped few gold coins on the counter) and walked away. He was going to sit at Jason's grave and get plastered out of his mind. One last drink with his lifetime partner. A time to say goodbye to his best friend.

Tardif hung his head as he made for the large cemetery, liquor bottle in hand. He already missed him…

Paracelsus was lost in thought. Now that she had her Hunter, where could she use him effectively? The pigmen in the Warrens made her really nervous and were hard to poison but easy to bleed (expression 'bleeding like a stuck pig' anyone?). The fishes in the Cove were easy to poison but hard to bleed and since the incident with the Siren she had no wish to return there. The Weald and its infestation of the Fungi and the Ruins with its undead. The undead were easy to stun and poison, and acid helped make those bones brittle for hard hits. Especially for a hard hitter like the Bounty Hunter.

Ruins it was then. Now who else was good in the Ruins? Her goggles trained on the Church as she ran by it on her way towards the barracks. A Sister! She squealed and skidded to a stop, kicking up dust and dirt. They hurt the undead almost as much as a… Her eyes widened behind her mask. Crusader! Reynauld!

Reynauld was definitely in the barracks. She'd beg on her hands and knees, grab a hold of his legs (he'd have to drag her around for she would not let go) and prostrate herself before him. He'd be perfect for a Ruins run. Which meant she had to get him.

But first she had to get the Sister. A Healer was a must in the Ruins, they could light up the darkness and banish the unholy horrors. Not to mention knit flesh and heal broken bones, bring someone back from the very brink of death. She pulled the heavy wooden doors open of the Church and walked in slowly.

The songs of the Verse book echoed through the hallowed halls and the Plague Doctor felt a chill go down her spine as she passed a rather bloody looking pail. Why would there be a bloody pail in the Church? This was not the medical ward… her thoughts trailed off as a tall, bloody, extremely muscular man (and he was half-naked) walked by her. He was covered in scars and open wounds that were still bleeding. She didn't see his face because he wore a blood-stained shroud-like hood.

Her eyes widened beneath her mask and she gave her head a shake. What was she doing…? Oh yes, a sister of the Light… she muttered under her breath and made her way towards the singing and ran right into the dour and half-mad Abbott.

"Come you seeking salvation?" he asked in that nasally voice that she didn't like. In the right light, with the shadows dancing across his bony features, the Abbott could almost be mistaken for a walking skeleton.

"Actually I was looking for a Sister…" she trailed off as she spied at least two Sisters walking towards them, "And I found one!" she squeaked and walked around the Abbott, making a beeline directly for the clerics.

One was wearing the battle armour of the Sisters, breastplate and mace with the robes of the order. The other was dressed in habits usually worn by the clergy. She went straight for the battle ready Sister.

"Would you join me on a long quest in the Ruins?" she bowed her beaked head before the two women. They both bowed and the armoured Sister nodded.

"I would be delighted to banish the Darkness with you," she said solemnly, "My name is Sister Liliana."

"Thank you, Lily!" Paracelsus squealed, giving the woman a quick and impulsive hug, "I'll sign you up with us for next week!" and with those words the Plague Doctor flew out of the Church and made her way to the barracks.

It was time to get her hands on the Crusader. She found Reynauld in the barracks, sitting in his cot fully armed, reading the Verse book (which is all he ever did in town really, well, that and pray). She barely contained her excitement as she made her way gingerly towards him.

"Reynauld," she cleared her throat and stopped beside his bed. The Crusader barely raised his head to glance at her, she continued embolden, "Would you join us in the Ruins next week? I have a Sister, me and a Bounty Hunter for a long expedition."

He must have stared at her for a good minute before he nodded again and lowered his helmeted head back to his Verse book. She beamed down at him and hopped beside his bed before bounding towards the posting board. She signed up their names on the only long quest available in the Ruins.

She grinned behind her mask. This was going to be worth every minute of hell. She'd put together a team worthy of a long trek. Only a week to wait… she didn't think she could wait that long.