"Too bad," Zhi said, and scooped the dice up. "Twenty gil minner on first roll. Thirty on chance." She tossed the dice. Six and five -- nearly a mirror roll of his own. She flicked them back his way.
"Ye make a habit o' forgettin' what ye've left in yer room, or are ye jes weak wi' booze?"
"Ye make a habit o' forgettin' what ye've left in yer room, or are ye jes weak wi' booze?"
