Ash 15, 121
Another poker night at the Gobbler. The only difference between this one and the previous was that Franky had a full staff now. And it made all the difference in the world. It was a more peaceful night, and his staff were working hard and efficiently. Franky himself was sitting at a table in the center of the bar, playing Sangen Hold 'em, a type of poker he'd picked up from his time down in the swamplands south of the Imperium.
Franky didn't bother to peek at the two cards laying face down beneath him, he knew what he had, and he was paying attention to everyone else. He was lounging, lackadaisical, as the first round of betting took place before the flop was revealed. Franky saw that the bet was two silvers, and he called on it, matching it. And the bet continued around the eight person game.
Glasha appeared at his shoulder, setting down a fresh glass of bourbon, this particular one chilled. "Keep it up like that, and you'll end up with the crown." Franky snorted at her jest about the Goblin King. "Don't you put that curse on me Glasha." The older goblin woman cackled, heading back to the bar. As the final pre-flop bets were placed, Weston turned the flop. Franky twitched his mouth into just the slightest hint of a grin, as the next round of betting began, and half the table was folding.
Franky picked up his bourbon and took a sip of the chilled, smoky nectar, just the slightest tang of salt. Zythurian sea barrel bourbon. Glasha always knew what he wanted. Franky pulled out his smoke box, plucking a hand rolled cigarette out, lighting it with a match as the betting came back around his way. He tossed forth his coins, raising it by one, sending it around once more. Franky continued to watch people, leaning back, relaxed. He saw the servers rushing around, sweet talking the customers as they delivered drinks. He saw Gug watching menacingly, making sure everything was running smoothly. And he saw plenty of faces around the bar that were happy and relaxed.
This was how things were supposed to be.
