Larian had a notion of what a gambling house would be like, before he entered. This was not it. The place looked almost respectable.
"You gonna gawk or you gonna play, lad?"
The gruff voice drew Larian's gaze away from the room to the man standing to his right. Tall, bald, and bulging with muscles, he had a scar that ran the length of his right cheek and a tattoo of a star on the left side of his neck. He wore a simple red tunic that was trimmed in golden thread and black pants tucked into heavy workboots. His face seemed made for scowling, though he had a twinkle in his eye as he looked Larian up and down - amusement?
Larian cleared his throat. "Play, I suppose."
"Thought so. Table minimum's two pennies here. Max bet is five marks."
"Five marks?"
The bouncer's eyes narrowed.
