Stage 3: The Boss, Fortuna

Night had fallen over the mercenary camp, but tensions were high and chaos was everywhere. The din was so great that one might suspect a battle had actually broken our-- it would certainly be in-character for these constantly combative chasers of coin. In this case, however, the mercenaries were all panicking after the distinct failure of two of their most trusted to oust the supernaturally gifted dealer who'd wandered into camp and started humiliating everyone. The ingenious engineer, Flowers, and the toughest lieutenant of them all, Bugs, had both fallen without her so much as lifting a gun.

One can imagine how difficult this was for any of them to report to the boss of their operation. As a result, they all ended up running around like chickens with their heads cut off, unwilling to be the one to break the news.

Robin was beginning to grow curious herself. She'd heard several of the mercenaries mention a shadowy figure known as "the boss" so far, but whoever she was, she'd somehow remained hidden, even after the whole camp had been drawn during her blackjack showdown with Bugs. "Say... Colline, Betty, have either of you seen a person you'd suspect to be 'The Boss?' Maybe someone even larger than Bugs?" the dealer questioned her two shoulder guardians telepathically.

"I'm afraid not. But whoever it is, tis wiser to judge her by her karmic debt than by her physical stature. That said, I have not seen anyone with a higher number yet..." Colline answered, deflating a bit as she missed another chance to be useful.

"Hope we didn't pick a day when she's out of the camp. Just because I put those bookmarks down doesn't mean we've got the good luck to bump into her that easily," Betty sighed.

Robin was just about to take that as her sign to go before some other crazed mercenary had a chance to pop out and make herself the third opponent, when she was interrupted by the sound of a whip cracking somewhere in the camp. The noise was so loud and so authoritative that every single merc in camp stopped what they were doing and turned in the direction of the noise, snapping a soldierly salute, despite their lack of official military status.

"Speak of the devil..." Betty chuckled, sitting forward a bit on Robin's shoulder as the whip-wielding woman strode into view.

The obvious final boss of the Soldiers of Fortune stood by the pile of discarded clothing and weapons that Robin had thus far won off of her troops wearing a frown of utter contempt. Her distaste was so great that her brow furrowed, her one visible eye squinted shut, and her lower lip drew up, ruining what was otherwise a rather magazine-ready face compared to her fellow mercenaries. It was impossible to see what one of her eyes was doing, on account of the eye-patch covering it up, but Robin imagined that if she had that eye too, it would also be full of venomous rage.

The woman's vibrantly colored, shockingly blue hair went along with her uniform, which was more like a naval commander's than a mercenary's. The others were all clad in faded leather, but she was dressed almost like she belonged on the runway, with a leopard-spotted cape slung over one shoulder, a billowing, buttoned up blouse, and flared-legged pants, tucked into thigh-high boots. Her gloves were leather, close-fitting, and elbow length, making her look a bit like a circus tamer all put together.

That image was completed by the vicious whip, now slowly coiling around her wrist as she retracted its length. The woman spotted Robin and raised her eyebrows with mixed curiosity and contempt, then raised her chin as well. "Hmph. So this is it, then? A pretty one who looks like she hasn't lived off scraps in the dessert for three months saunters in and you all roll out the red carpet for her? Literally give her the clothes off your backs? Pathetic!" she spat, speaking in a haughty voice that carried just a bit of an accent that was hard for Robin to place. It sounded somewhere between French and Spanish. She might be world-traveled.

Whether French or Spanish, one thing was for sure: she had the highest karmic debt counter among the Soldiers of Fortune and it wasn't even close. Betty and Colline exchanged surprised glances with each other, silently confirming "are you seeing this shit?"

"Ha ha, I assure you, nobody's made it easy for me! I'm a traveling card dealer, at your service. My name's Robin. Would you like to-"

"I do not care what your name is. Around here, I, Fortuna, the boss, decide what everyone's name is. Yours will be... Red."

Robin had to resist rolling her eyes. That was real inventive. "As a matter of fact, my name is Robin Redd, ha ha ha..."

"Just Red from now on. You can keep that name when you enter my ranks as a Soldier of Fortune," the snooty commander of the mercenaries chuckled, sneering as she sized Robin up with her eyes. "It will be good to have another one who's not such a meathead. We need more Flowers and less Bugs."

"H-Huh? Well, that does bring me to the terms of my game of choice... Strip blackjack. Winner names the debt to be paid by the loser. If you defeat me, you're free to take me as one of your mercenaries-- or whatever else you like."

"Ooo la la~" Fortuna chuckled, resting one hand upon her cheek. "You are young. You do not yet know not to hand someone a blank check. I see how it is. And if I lose?"

"Well, the punishment is to be determined, but I also plan to collect on a debt. A rather large debt," Robin answered, smiling sweetly. On one of her shoulders, Betty and Colline shared an unseen fist-bump.

"And since it is your game, I suspect you will give me a generous handicap? You will allow me to put up significant capital in advance of my wardrobe, I assume?"

"I suppose-"

"Perfect! Then I accept your terms, Red. And I look forward to welcoming you into my forces with open arms. We're having curry rice tonight. You will collect your rations in the mess hall after our little game. Then, you will surrender your clothes and possessions. I just may have something in red leather that would suit you..."

"That sounds..." Robin laughed awkwardly, rubbing her wrist awkwardly with her opposite hand. "It sounds..."

"Tacky," Colline muttered.

"Fetishy. Like it's gonna be a red devil Halloween costume or something. That stuff's really racist to us real devils, just so you know," Betty added.

Fortuna shook her head back and forth with a flourish of her electric blue hair. "It does not matter how it sounds to you, Red. It's what I want and it's what you'll do!" she snapped, then cracked her whip against the sand so hard that Robin wouldn't be surprised to see the sand glassed when it came back up. "Let this game be a lesson in obedience for you! I'm not like the other lunatics and neanderthals you've defeated up to this point! I am the hand that guides the Soldiers of Fortune!"

Her voice was so loud, it was like a second whip cracking. Robin found herself clenching her teeth, waiting for it to pass. "Well... you might learn a lesson in modesty yourself, ha ha ha." She unfolded her card table in the center of camp and then began to shuffle her cards.

Opponent: The Boss, Fortuna

Pile: 5

Difficulty: Ridiculous

Abilities: Whiplash-- If Fortuna would bust and her pile is greater than 2, she can reduce her hand by 4 and judge again (once per round).

Army Surplus-- Robin begins each dealer hand with either a 1 or 2 already dealt (50% chance of each).

Karmic Rewards: 200 points per round win, 1250 points per game victory, +3 Angel Power or Devil Power