*Arnould*
I enjoy playing cards at the rogue Alpha Club. The dark, smoke-filled rooms are a reflection of the city’s criminal underworld, and within these walls, the commoners mix with lesser lords, second, third, and fourth sons. Those with pockets that hold little besides lint or those who are no longer welcome at White’s or other gentlemen’s clubs come here to blow off some steam.
My luck has been atrocious this evening. As I reach into my waistcoat pocket for my timepiece, everyone around me goes quiet.
“Prince Arnould”. Glancing up, I see the club owner, Aaron Tempest, standing there. It’s not often that he makes an appearance. I can’t fathom why he chooses to call out to me, but I am determined to match his tone.
“Tempest”.
“What say you and I play a game, just the two of us ?”
