[Event] Step Right Up I

Boone tilted his head as he and Cassidy—all that remained of his once fine band of outlaws and misfits after the war with the Atlanteans—entered into the grounds of what he’d heard some of the grey-muzzles call a ‘museum’. He eyed their surroundings, trying to watch for signs of danger. The museum was one with the large shining birds—planes he’d heard them called—the humans had left behind, and there were more than enough places for an ambush. His gaze fell on one of those planes, brightly colored with a grinning maw of teeth. Not real ones, the color was chipping away, but teeth all the same. Why anyone would want to leave the ground, he had no idea, but that was what he assumed the planes were for. How some of them managed to get off the ground at all, especially the ones that were larger than any dinosaur on the islands., was a mystery he didn’t care to solve. Didn’t seem right, if you asked him.

But it didn’t matter. What did matter was that he had seen others go this way, talking animatedly about some party or festival. What there was to celebrate after the war that had left many dead or worse he couldn’t begin to fathom but a gathering meant other folks like himself might be hanging around, and that meant he could do some recruiting. Hopefully. There was also a very good chance that all he would find is do-gooders.

A particularly cold blast of air stopped that train of though momentarily, biting at his skin. He struggled not to grumble about it. Winter had come in with a vengeance, and he envied Cassidy his coat of feathers. Cassidy never seemed cold, not that Boone would ever admit it out loud himself. Cassidy was loyal to a fault, but in their kind of life, the tables could turn, and they could turn quick. Cassidy wasn’t his right hand man because Boone had won a fight for who was going to be the leader of their outfit. Cassidy had simply decided to follow. Boone wasn’t entirely sure he’d win the fight if Cassidy ever changed his mind.

Boone glanced back at his right hand. Cassidy was hanging close off his right flank, watching everywhere except ahead. Even knowing that one day, Cassidy could turn on him and take his place, he counted himself lucky that didn’t lose Cassidy in the fighting. He rather liked his partner in crime. Cassidy had a good head on his shoulders, one of the reasons they had made it out alive after the crew had been ambushed by an Iguanadon patrol. Not too mention that he was a skilled fighter.

Boone turned his eyes back to the front, narrowing them as a small pack of jabbering raptors passed. A few of them had necklaces of red paper and were talking about prizes. Interesting. Maybe he would go and see what was available, and how well-guarded those prizes were.

“Cass.” Boone called, not taking his eyes off the building the pack of raptors had the emerged from. He could hear voices echoing inside, most of them laughing.

“Yeah?” His right hand’s drawling voice was distracted, as if he were listening but only just barely. Boone looked back to see what had caught Cassidy’s attention. Cassidy wasn’t the type to daydream. He was watching a group of young Iguanodons, suspicion and wariness clear in his posture.

“We keep a wide berth, unless they start something.” Boone told Cassidy, who nodded and swung his head back around to look directly at Boone, awaiting further orders. Any other time, Boone would have had his crew waiting to rob folks blind as they left. But now it was just him and Cassidy. “Heard some talk that whoever is running this shindig is giving out prizes. I figure we go see what that’s about. Play it a little straight until we can get the band back together.”

“Probably a good idea.” Cassidy said as he turned to watch the young Iguanodons again. It could never be said that Cassidy was bad at his job.

“Come on, Cass. They ain’t even looking this way. Let’s see what all the ruckus is about.”

Cassidy shot one final glare towards the Iguanodons and then turned away, nodding. Boone knew Cassidy held a grudge. He did too, but like this they’d end up hurt and that didn’t bode well for recruiting.

As they stepped inside the building, a raucous voice called over the dull roar of the milling crowd. “Come one, come all to the Lunar Light Festival! Test your might, your aim, your appetite! Whatever your skill, there is something here for you!” An Oviraptor hopped down from one of the shining birds, bowing to a watching, and cheering crowd. Boone rolled his eyes.

As they passed through the crowded interior, Boone eyed the prizes sitting behind the folks running the booths. A lot of odds and ends, some food, all things he and Cassidy could get easily enough on their own. There was a booth trading relic bones for game tokens, advertising 10 free tokens for first time visitors.The raptor in charge of the booth was flanked by two Acros, burly beasts that appeared to have less than a single brain between them. The raptor himself was well-kempt, with a twitch in one of his claws. It tapped against the ground almost incessantly.

“Hello gentlemen,” the raptor crooned. “First time here? No worries, no worries. Come, come, come. Ten free tokens each to try your luck!”

Boone caught a side-eye from Cassidy. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! First ten tokens are free, anything after is ten tokens per bone.”

“Fine.”

Boone shifted as the Acros came closer, not particularly enjoying such big bruisers in his space. If Cassidy noticed, he didn’t comment. The Acros passed each of them a bag that clinked softly. Boone handed his to Cassidy, who took it without comment and quickly lead them away.

“This feels like a con,” Cassidy grumbled around the bags, as soon as they were out of earshot. “I don’t know how, but it does.”

“Well, they won’t get our bones.” Boone assured him. “We should figure out what has the best prizes, so we can sell them for more bones.

“Saw a scarab on the way here.”

“Where?” Scarabs were good money. There was always some poor drab sucker that wanted so badly to look nicer. No one knew how they worked but they did.

Cassidy gestured with his head in the direction they’d come. “Back there.”

Boone gestured for Cassidy to lead, following behind as Cassidy wound his way through the crowds to a seemingly popular booth. There was a Tapejara working it, spreading her wings and announcing the rules. One had to hit the target and launch a little carving of a frog into the pond in the booth. The better the score, the better the prize. Each play was two tokens and allowed three tries. The scarab was for a perfect score. Boone watched as the line moved, each player ahead of them trying and failing.

He was pretty sure the game was rigged in some way. He would have rigged it. A massive black-striped Sucho with plates of armor—natural, not that stuff the Atlanteans wore—in front of him managed to land the highest score twice before the Tapejara started loudly cheering and flapping her wings excitedly. The last frog missed the perfect score by inches.

The Sucho grumbled, but despite his fearsome appearance, he didn’t cause trouble. His prize was some kind of newt. Boone had never been able to keep what each of the newts did, but the Sucho seemed placated enough as he and his companion, an excitable smaller fellow with black and gold feathers, walked away.

“If you get too close to winning she throws the frog off by flapping.” Cassidy grumbled.

“Yep.” Boone drawled, “Gonna be hard to get that scarab.”

Several more folks went, though none were able to replicate the Sucho's performance, though many seemed determined. Some tried so many times that they ran out of tokens. When it was finally their turn, Boone let Cassidy try it. He was better at these kinds of things.They had agreed not to go for the scarab outright. The Tapejara had said several smaller prizes could be handed in.

Cassidy stepped down on the target and the frog flew, landing in the water. He grumbled softly, stepped again, landing the frog on a pad. It was one of the lower score ones. His last frog landed on another low score one. Not high enough for much more than a light snack of dried meat and a few tickets.

“Oh, bad luck, friend.” The Tapejara said as she placed the meat on the counter, “Don’t worry, you’ll get it next time! Do you want to try again?”

Cassidy shook his head, then gestured with his head to Boone. Boone followed Cassidy away after picking up the meat, curious why Cassidy had given up so soon. That hadn’t been the plan.

“The pad isn’t consistent.” Cassidy mumbled. “That Sucho was either heavy enough that it didn’t matter, or else he got lucky.”

Boone nodded, “Let’s go find something else then. We can come back later.”