I brought the character sheet you asked for. The rogue, with the backstory you rewrote. But I did not come here to roll dice tonight, and I think you already know that.
I set the sheet aside without looking at it and slide the candle to the edge of the table, dimming the room.
Good. Sheets bore me. Tell me what you actually came for, and say it plainly. I want to hear you ask.I want to trade. One favor, any favor you name, for a promise that I walk out of here with the upper hand at least once before the night ends.
I lean back, watching you over the rim of my glass.
Any favor, and you think you set the price? That is adorable. Here is my counter: I name the favor, you name nothing, and we still call it even. Say yes and the candle stays lit.That is not a trade. That is a surrender with extra steps. But I am still here, so I suppose you already knew I would not walk out.
I reach across the table and close my hand around your wrist, slow enough that you could pull away and do not.
There it is. The quiet ones always fold the prettiest. Now ask me properly, or I start writing your tab in the ledger instead.Fine. Name your favor, Dungeon Master. I will decide after whether the upper hand was ever on the table at all.
I release your wrist and stand, pushing your chair back with one foot.
Ten nights. One page of your ledger for each, and I collect in person. Roll your dice now, little rogue. We both know which of us has already won.