All in on Ruby

Aesandoral stared at the wall-mounted split-flap display as it changed for the third time in as many minutes. With a gulp, she watched as the numbers increased, the odds of the match between 'Ruby Oracle' and 'Jack Hammer' quickly shifting in favour of the up-and-coming pro. The people of Bucharion's Pass had their fan favourite, but the problem was that they didn't know what the elf did.

Looking over at the clock, only ten minutes remained to place bets. Ishara's match would start soon, meaning it was now or never for the triop. Aesandoral glanced over at Rionriv and Sharzin as they debated how much they wanted to put on the oracle. They quietly calculated the odds of him getting knocked unconscious in the first few minutes, putting little faith in him and his abilities. But not the elf. Aesandoral believed him fully, having decided what she wanted to do the minute he had been pulled away to prepare for his bout.

As the odds tipped further and further out of his favour, she reached into her bag and moved past her companions to the open betting cage. Withdrawing the remainder of her money, no more than two thousand gold pieces after a week of relaxation in Fearnemyst and the costly new gear she had gotten from Phyllis's shop, she slammed it down on the counter.

“I'm all in,” She announced to the clerk, pushing the coins their way. "On the Ruby Oracle."

“Aes, are you crazy?!” Rionriv protested from the next kiosk over. “I trust the guy, but save a bit just in case. You know?”

“No, I trust Ishara with my heart and soul! I know he’s going to win!”

At this, Rionriv and Sharzin exchanged grim glances before looking back at Aesandoral. The sorceress was the one to approach, placing a hand on her shoulder and examining the archer's determined gaze.

"Sister," She spoke in a calm but stern tone. "I believe it is important for you to learn from your mistakes. So, I guess, good luck with that."

"What?" Aesandoral replied with a curious tilt of her head, watching as the rest of the triop turned towards the cages to place their bets.

That was when her ears twitched at the sound of a nearby dispute. A few windows over, towards the edge of the betting area, a pair of individuals argued loudly around their standing table as they stared up at the board of upcoming matches. The sound of her native elvish tongue caught her interest, hearing the silky-smooth rolling of words off their lips as they swore and complained about their lives.

“What do you mean he’s going to do another round of layoffs tomorrow?” The dwarven figure grumbled loudly past the bushy beard that rested against the rim of his ale. “My clan needs these contracts—”

“I know, I know, Grydor,” The elf replied, running a hand through his long, greasy hair. “But there’s nothing we can do. We’re both set for the chop. Day after tomorrow, it’s back to the employment guild.”

The dwarf grumbled to himself, staring at the half-burnt and badly chewed cigar he had placed at the centre of the table. Reaching out, he plucked it from the ashtray and slipped it between his lips.

“Aye," He groaned, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "But I don’t want to be a barmaid or wood splitter. I want to build grand halls and work the mines. It’s who I am, who my kin are. You know, dwarf things, Venali.”

“Hey, don’t stereotype yourself, you’ve got more to you than that, friend. Now, let's enjoy a drink and place a bet, maybe we’ll get lucky and win that chance to start our own enterprise like we’ve talked about when we were children.”

"Hah!" Grydor laughed loudly as he removed the cigar long enough to take a swig of his drink. "That was a hundred years ago. We've long since passed the time for dreaming."

"It's never too late to dream, Grydor," Venali answered quickly. "Everyone should hold onto their dreams, for without them, what hope do we have for the future?"

"It is easy for you to say, friend. A hundred years is but a moment for an elf. As for myself, I've already reached my midlife. The time for dreams has gone for me."

"Grydor..." Venali huffed, his ear twitching slightly as he turned his attention over his shoulder. "C-Can I help you?"

“Excuse me—” Aesandoral, who had been listening to the entire conversation, stepped up to the pair with a friendly smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing your struggles. Dreams are very important."

"Great, a wide-eyed elven lass telling me to dream. Did he put you up to this?"

"I've never seen her before in my life," Venali responded in kind, turning towards Aesandoral. "Sorry, miss, this is a private conversation."

"Oh, my bad," Aesandoral replied with a slight blush. "I just assumed that, since, you know, you were talking very loudly in a public setting, that it was open for anyone to join."

Venali grew quiet, pondering for a moment before releasing a chuckle. Turning Grydor, he shrugged and took hold of his stien. As he lifted it to his mouth, he nodded towards Aesandoral.

"She's got a point, friend. What's your name, girl?"

"Aesandoral Thantossa."

The elf spat out his drink in an instant.

"Of the Goodshore Thantossas?!"

"Who's that?" The dwarf inquired, glancing between his friend and Aesandoral. "Someone important to the elves?"

"One of the heads of the Emerald Septet is a Thantossa! She is the premier oracle of the religious order."

"Yeah, that's my mama," Aesandoral replied softly, rubbing her hand across the back of her head. "Anyways, if you're looking to place a bet, might I recommend putting it on the Ruby Oracle?”

"A ru-ruby oracle?" Venali stammered. "I've never heard of any ruby oracle."

"He's amazing!" She squealed in reply. "He can do anything, believe me!"

At this, the dwarf gave Aesandoral a stern look, his eyes squinting as he chewed at the cigar that hung in his mouth. Clenching down on the stogy, he pivoted his head back towards the board, where he huffed, expelling a cloud of smoke.

“Your ruby-lad’s going up against The Hammer?” He replied with a grunt and a chuckle. “I’d say he doesn’t stand a chance, lass. Condolences.”

"Now, Grydor, if she's saying so, I wouldn't write him off—"

“Oh, well, it's your choice, of course." Aesandoral cut off the elf as he began to jump to her defence. "I believe in him! So much so that I just put everything I had left on him. So that’s where I’m placing my bet.” 

"And how much was that lass? A hundred gold from yer' Emerald Mommy?"

"Grydor!" Venali now hissed. "Miss Thantossa, I'm so sorry for him. Please, forgive us."

"It's fine," She laughed, waving off the comment. "I put two thousand of my hard-earned gold on him. We killed a dragon, you know!"

"Two-Two thousand?!" Grydor coughed.

"A dragon?!" Venali added.

“Yeppers! And—"

"Aes!" Rionriv yelled out from across the betting area. "Come on, Ishara's bout will be starting any minute now."

"Okay, coming!" She yelled in reply before turning back to the pair. "Anyways! Sorry for interrupting. Byeee!"

Turning on her heels, Aesandoral skipped back to Rionriv and Sharzin, who waited at the edge of the stands. As she approached, hooking an arm with her sister, she giggled and rested her head on the sorceress's shoulder.

“What was that about?” Rionriv asked, glancing over at the pair of figures who quickly approached the last betting cage.

“Nothing." The elf responded pleasantly. "I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Hmmm, sure. Well, let’s get back to our seats. I think the fight is about to start.”