This post was inspired by a writing prompt in the Worldbuilding Community - Worldbuilding Prompt #750 - Insurance
It's set in my Dungeons & Dragons setting, in the Sea Stallion Tavern in Milmar.
Enjoy !
Image created by AI in NightCafe A=Studio
"You cheated !" the big half-orc growled, reaching for the wicked-looking flensing knife at his belt. He was definitely not a good example of his species, tending far more to the orcish side of his unnatural heritage.
"Did not, you big oaf. You're just blind, stupid and unlucky, is all !" the small creature sat opposite him said, with a wicked cruel smile. You could say he was a man, but he seemed a bit small, with ears that were a bit big. But he was too tall to be a leprechaun, so his friends (such as he had) would joke that he must be a half-leprechaun, even though such a thing was probably impossible.
On the table in front of them were three glasses of murky ale. Clearly brewed around the back of the Sea Stallion Tavern. At least, one would hope it was brewed, and not just (as one might delicately put it) ... recycled.... from the latrine buckets where drinkers deposited their earlier drinks to make room for more.
"I'll tell ye what I'll do to be fair. Put away the blade and we'll play another round. Put up your stake, and if ye win I'll double the winnings on offer."
The half-orc was, as the half-leprechaun had so rightly described him, stupid. So he sat heavily down, let go of the knife and slammed another silver Narheim Throne onto the tabletop. His opposite number deftly swept up the coin and slipped it into his purse.
Then he set the game up. The three ales were placed in a line. The ugly little man took a glass eyeball from his waistcoat pocket and held it over the glasses. The half-orc then held up a sodden and none-too clean bar towel in front of the glasses so he couldn't see which one the glass eye would be dropped into before they were shuffled around. All he had to do was listen (which was a tough ask over the hubbub of the tavern) and drink the ale which he guessed had the glass eyeball at the bottom.
There was a splash as the eyeball hit the ale.
A large hand landed on the leprechaun-type's shoulder.
A very, very deep voice growled down at him.
Looming over the con-man and his mark was a massive troll. Like everyone else in the Sea Stallion he was dressed like a sailor. But his tricorn had had a piece of paper pinned to it, which clearly read "I work for Reginald Ecks".
"Little man," the troll growled. "I see what you did. Eyeball game is bad enough on unwary marks, but putting eyeball on thread is even bigger cheating."
The troll grabbed the small man's wrist, twisting and pushing it down onto the table. The impact forced his fingers open, and sure enough the glass eye rolled out. It was wet with the ale it had splashed into, and was very clearly strung on the very fine thread it had been bounced back out on.
As the half-orc reached for his blade again, the other massive hand descended. Landing on the half-orc's shoulder, it slammed the half-drawn knife back into it's sheath. The troll then reached down and took the bulging purse from the small man's belt. The chain holding it parted easily.
He gave it to the half-orc.
"Your winnings," he said simply. Then turning to the small man, he gave him an evil look. "You do that stuff in the Broken Cutlass. Go drink there. Come back here and I break all your fingers."
Over behind the bar, Frothi Smallbeer turned to his wife with a smile of quiet satisfaction.
"You see, dear, I told you it was a good investment to pay Mr Ecks for this thing he called 'Insurance'. His troll fellow is an excellent way to ensure any trouble is dealt with before it gets out of hand."