Odd Poker Rules and Weird Poker Situations Explained

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CMV: Events such as Esports, chess, and poker should not be classified as sports, but are at the very most unconventional sports, which is to say competitions.

Disclaimer: Before I start, I am not demeaning the efforts of top competitors. Their sheer commitments to become masters are more than apparent through their inclusion of eating healthy, exercising, and countless hours of game study. It indeed is a respectable commitment. This will not be a subjective look at this topic like most of the debates are. As an ex-gamer, I do have a personal bias towards chess to tell the truth. When first drafting this argument, I actually tried to formulate why chess is a sport and video games weren't. Then I realised that they both weren't and shouldn't be considered as conventional. Do I still think most people say video games are sports to justify their gaming addiction? Yes. Do I think it's unfair for Esports to be compared as equal to Basketball? Absolutely. However, like I said, this is an objective comparison of the ever expanding world of competitive entertainment. And, as the rules say, I am open to discussion about changes
There are two popular definitions for "sport" that have been used for this topic. The first one from is from dictionary.com:
an athletic activity requiring skill or physical prowess and often of a competitive nature
Using this definition, we can automatically draw the line. Many pro-Esports people in this topic use chess as an comparison, saying if chess is a sport by this definition, then competitive video games can also be considered as one. However, while it does note that it can involve physical prowess or skill, neither activity is athletic by definition, which means physically strong, fit, and active. A Esports player may take up an exercise program to better their play, but it does not make them an athlete. It is not required for a person to be athletic to compete in Esports, chess or poker. The participants can not be called athletes, because the activity is not athletic. Therefore, by the definition found on dictionary.com, the argument that these activities can be considered sports is over.
So now, we can move to the more ambiguous definition found in Oxford dictionary, which identifies a sport:
an activity involving physical exertion and skill in which an individual or a team competes against another or others for entertainment
So here, there is room for argument. Exertion simply means effort, so by this definition an activity such as Esports can be considered sport or sport like. After all, the word comes from disport which means in the sense of recreation or entertainment. However, this does not mean that they should be considered as conventional sports at all, far from it. Conventional sports are athletic, and have these identical seven attributes to be considered as such.
These are what all athletic sports have in common, and can hold the present definition of a common or "regular" sport. Nonetheless, the Esports, chess and even bizarre activities such as dog boarding and outhouse racing meet many requirements on this list. I will refer to these as unconventional sports, even though chess and competitive video games are recognised for their sports like properties by the International Olympic Committee. They both get really close to qualifying as Olympic Sports, while those are different from sports played annually. According these overall requirements to be an athletic and annual sport, these fall closer to the definition of competition, which is the state or activity of competing. Additionally, this category can be split even further between physical competitions, or unconventional sports, and virtual competitions, or virtual sports.
Physical competitions, such as chess and poker, meet six out of seven of the requirements above. Chess is notorious for its requirement of mental prowess, not unlike athletic sports are for their brute physicality. Physical exertion is present by moving the pieces or chips, and take place in a tangible environment where players can touch and interact physically with what they are doing. The objective for a chess player is to trap the king with his or her pieces, called checkmate. There is a definite competitive aspect, and self sustaining competition is conspicuous. Fédération Internationale des Échecs (FIDE), or the World Chess Federation, has over 170,00 active members, with the United States Chess Federation holding about 93,000. Chess.com alone has over 20,000,000 registered users. Poker has a huge following and world championships occurring annually since 2004. The place it falls short is the lack of consistent or common injury of the players. The risks of athleticism are generally associated with conventional sports. The thing that ties these unconventional sports together is the presence of a physical and tangible environment during play.
Virtual competitions, namely Esports, but also online versions of trading card games and E-chess, meet five out of seven qualities that conventional sports have. They do indeed include a great deal of mental concentration, prowess and overall development. Video games, thanks to a release of dopamine, do have mentally relieving benefits that are best showcased when played in moderation. Physical exertion of pressing keys or buttons on a controller is present as well. Physical and mental integration shown in top level events are astounding, with muscle memories and reaction times that are impressive to say the least. Competitive gaming is most known for its explosive popularity and ever expanding competition. Even twelve year olds are able to compete in these events. This is mostly due to video games being, let's face it, extremely entertaining to watch and play. Nonetheless, it does not by any means have a consistent injuring possibility, except for maybe a few cases of carpal tunnel here and there. What makes it set apart from the other unconventional sport is that it's strictly virtual. Gamers can not physically interact with the game they are playing. Virtual reality and the use of controllers is still not tangible. They experience only a fabricated world. And, in a gamer's mind, are they pressing buttons on a controller or are they playing a game? The use of controllers act as a medium of communication to the virtual world they are interacting with. Physically, competitive gamers have no connection with video games.
Reiterating the beginning clarification, I do not demean unconventional sports, whether they are virtual competitions or physical. Many get offended at the generalising of their favourite competitive activity as a competition, which is why I used the word unconventional. Also note that the dedication to these unconventional sports can be as demanding as some physical sports are. Chess can be a lifetime commitment for many, and as I can confirm, many, many, many hours are committed to studying tatics and theory of the openings. In the same way, taking the relatively new fighting game Smash Brothers Ultimate as an example, many hours are devoted by top players into studying match-ups, labbing true combos with their main character, and studying frames data and the interaction between them in detail.
The last thing I will address is the overall stereotypical attitude towards these unconventional sports. Many regard chess as a game for hopeless nerds, competitive video games for unemployed delinquents, and poker for financially unstable people. I won't deny these stereotypes as wrong, but as they're incomplete. Yes there have been World Chess champions that died penniless, and yes some Esports players are hot for a season and just vanish and are back to regular jobs. However, they don't consider the different, more positive aspects of these events. How excited these communities get over tournaments and announcements. The connections that are shared, the relationships that are built. How there is a general hype in these communities, and most importantly, how people's life stories are changed for ever. It is really easy for society to avert their attention from these moments. But the one thing to remember that everyone possesses on the Earth, and is born with, is a choice. A choice to live life how they please. Yes there will be consequences for every action, but no one can judge another individual's choices. Yes, society loves pointing fingers, but in reality, we are just as flawed as the people we condemn. It's just not right to tell a kid that they'll never make it in the NBA, NFL or whatever. And it is especially wrong to force it upon a person who dreams of becoming a competitive gamer that they will waste their time. If someone eventually falls out of being a top player, but still perceives it as an enjoyable experience, then it generally can't be classified as a waste of time. Imagine if a white collar person who reprimanded their son or daughter for wanting to be a competitor in Esports, saying they'll never amount to anything doing that, encountered a successful entrepreneur the next day who told them, "Office jobs are for soul-less people who chase money, and they won't ever make a mark on the world." That might wake them up from their corporate slavery, but some people might inherently enjoy their work. It's a really malicious punch to the gut. It doesn't matter if you think, or even know, someone is making a wrong decision for their life. At the end of the day, you have no control over the descions , even in parenting. Parents can do their best to influence children, and even have dominion over what they do and should be doing at a young age. After they grow older, there comes a point of life where they can't be ordered around anymore. Treat others how you would want to be treated.
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Rough Night at The Running Bear Casino (PAGE 2 of 2)

PAGE 2 of 2
**** * ****
Hussein nudged his brother Iqbal and aimed his chin toward the bar. “Look, a fat, stupid American has finally managed some success.”
Iqbal smirked, “It is the only way the infidels can succeed. They have no education and no skills to do anything useful. They don’t even worship their own God anymore, only money and fame. They will soon learn better…”
The brothers were out enjoying a night of revelry, with a few more planned when they reached the city. The celebrations were a last reward before they fulfilled their mission and achieved True Paradise through martyrdom. Hussein was superstitious and hoped to find success at gambling before they took the great risk that if successful, would help to sustain their cause. They’d grown up in this land of debauchery and foolishness but had been taught from the first to honor their own Beliefs and culture above anything the Americans professed.
Hussein was on roll number five of what he intended to be a short run. He wished to win five times for the Five Pillars of Islam, the name of his cell in the latest great Jihad. He blew on the dice and tossed. The small cubes bounced against the back side of the pit and tumbled end over end as he watched breathlessly. “Another ten!” the barker called. And pushed the winnings toward Hussein. He placed a minimum bet and rolled once more. He had already left the table before the barker called, “Snakeyes! Next roller please.”
He held up his chips triumphantly, “Iqbal, more money from roll number five! I kept the bet in place for five rolls, I left only the minimum for the last roll, it is a Sign! We are fated to succeed. We will meet the others tomorrow, go over the plan, and then have a few last nights to revel in this world…”
Iqbal patted his brother on the shoulder, “There is something I would like more than winning chips. He nodded toward the bar and the attractive and sinuous young local who worked behind it, steadily polishing glasses.
Hussein watched for a moment, unsure whether his brother meant the alcoholic drinks that had been forbidden until now or the woman. Knowing Iqbal, he assumed both. “As you wish brother. Take your mortal enjoyments while you can. She looks a little sullen though, frown, lowered brows, I like the happy ones.”
Iqbal’s serpent-like smile widened, “She will look better when I have freed her from the miseries of the uncircumcised. She will enjoy a real man. Who knows? Maybe I will convert her so that we can meet again in Paradise.” With that, he surged away from his brother and slithered up to the bar opposite the young First Nations maid. “Good evening, I noticed that you do not have many customers at the bar. It seems odd that so beautiful a creature as yourself would not attract more company.”
The woman ignored him, intently focused on her task. He tried again, “Perhaps I must order a drink to remain at the bar? If so, a gin and tonic if you please.”
She continued to polish the glass. He leaned forward, “Did you hear me?” he inquired in an annoyed tone. “Perhaps you have no business because you are surly and unhelpful.”
She looked at him and delivered a smirk that appeared to be far more evil than anything he could ever hope to muster, despite his thin, reptilian lips and predatory mind, “We don’t want customers to linger at the bar, getting drunk and building from misery to anger over their losses. We want them playing… and losing.” She leaned toward him and glared into his own eyes that he normally considered flinty and daunting. “You know about losing, don’t you?”
Hussein noted that the large man at the end of the bar in the “Security” shirt had begun stumping toward them. “Iqbal, perhaps it is time to go look for other entertainment.”
Iqbal ignored him, he was trapped in the serpent’s gaze, like a mouse dropped into a snake’s tank to be devoured while its owner watched with perverse interest. Hussein reached for his brother to tug at his arm but never got the chance. The big security officer seized his hand, drew it to his too wide chest and turned. The weight of the man drew him away from his brother and caused him to spin around so that he ended up facing the goon with his brother beyond the man and in the clutches of the Serpent Woman. The ham-fisted gargantuan continued to twist the hand he gripped until the pressure caused Hussein sever pain. He grunted and bent into the angle of his wrist to relieve the distress. He found himself bent forward and looking up desperately toward the man’s face.
The security staffer smiled, his square, blunt teeth showing dark behind an almost lipless mouth. His wide back and chest, covered in body armor under his shirt made him appear like a monster-sized… Turtle. Hussein felt himself lifted and placed behind the bar. His brother soon slithered over the top and fell to the floor beside him, smiling beatifically. Hussein opened his mouth to scream for help, but a large, blunt fist crashed into the side of his head and he saw stars… seven of them, like the Holy... The fist descended once more, and he saw only darkness.
**** * ****
Fr. Danilo Bayani was immensely enjoying his latest trip to the continental USA. He had visited Hawaii many years ago, and New York City more recently, but this was his first tour of the grand landbound spaces that this country offered. He’d managed to roam so far from his origins in Manila. Now, in his twilight years, he longed to see what he could of God’s Green Earth. All on the payroll of The Vatican while they cleanse the records of those hateful… allegations. The bitter thoughts raced across his mind. Of course he was a sinner, he was only mortal. He’d been expiated of those sins and had paid an enormous price to continue serving in his capacity as a parish priest. He forced his mind to return to the moment and more enjoyable pursuits.
He noted the hirsute and similar appearing pair of men who had gone to the bar and wondered why the Security officer approached them, but his attention was called once more to the round of Texas Hold’em and his table mates. When he again had a moment to look, no one was at the bar, in front or behind… curious, he thought, but he quickly refocused his attention on the fascinating new game he was in the process of learning. He was familiar with Poker, so it wasn’t difficult to learn. He liked the high level of interaction that this version of the old game allowed. He’d done well, certainly gained enough to fund extracurricular activities during the rest of his current sabbatical.
He’d been disturbed by the overall atmosphere of this place when he’d arrived. He did not care for the numerous paintings and sculptures of Ancient Native Deities and Spirits. They seemed to be mostly images of the Dark Beings of various Tribal cultures. He loved to study diverse cultures, but this place was an amalgamation of cultures, built for mutual support by several Tribes in the region. Much of the artwork was schlocky and clearly intended to cater to the garish and sordid tastes of the vapid gambling set. Some part of him did not feel… welcome, as though he had intruded on some private Place, set aside for Other Gods.
He shook off the depressing musings… There are NO Other Gods, he reassured himself. He soon stepped away from the table to take care of personal needs and to decide what he should do with the rest of his night. Perhaps he would visit the White Dove Restaurant & Ballroom on the other side of the hotel lobby from the casino. It boasted a good reputation according to online reviews, even though it was a simple buffet style with a dance floor to one side. He liked the name, it was… peaceful he decided.
He soon had a selection of food piled onto a plate and was seated near the dance floor. The place was sparsely occupied, so his hopes of being able to watch dancers as he ate were dashed. Still, the food was good enough. A little bland, but that was necessary in a place that acted as a crossroads of cultures. There was a spice table at the end of the primary row of entrees. He’d helped himself, yet nothing seemed to attach to his taste buds. The combination of eating nearly alone, having no one with energy around him, and the tasteless food soon had him growing restless. He finished up his repast and left the table to go out to the final section of the complex he had not visited, the River Overlook.
As he passed the table nearest the entrance, he saw a stout man in a rumpled sport coat, who glared daggers at him, eyes focused on his crucifix, the only outward sign of his profession. The man appeared to be so hostile, that he paused for a moment to determine whether he’d done anything to offend the fellow. “Excuse me sir, have I offended you in some way?”
The man looked startled. He was apparently unused to being confronted about his demeanor or behavior. He scowled, “Don’t like that thing you have around your neck. You Catholics are all Hell-bound. No concept of righteousness. Not that you’d understand, you people don’t even read The Book. You listen to your priests and pope and disregard The Word. All the kneeling and ritual prayers in the world won’t save you in the end. Go back to your idols and beads and leave me alone to seek Heaven.”
Fr. Bayani was startled by the vehemence with which the man spoke. He hadn’t been attacked directly for his Faith in years. “Sir, I’m not sure what Religion you practice, but I am a man of God, a consecrated priest of the Holy Church. I assure you that I understand more than most, if not as much as I would like. I meant no harm and wish you a peaceful night.”
With that, he started to walk past the man, but the man rose from his table and pointed his finger, “Your pope is the Anti-Christ, and your Church is a place of Satan! Look to the Bible for your salvation before it’s too late.”
Fr. Bayani increased his pace and continued on his journey to the River Overlook. He would need the peace and tranquility that nature and the sound of flowing water would provide to settle his roiling mind.
**** * ****
Pastor Bill resumed his seat and shook his head, “Fool, doesn’t know that he’s risking his soul, courting Damnation.” He’d had a bad run at the tables over at the casino. His Denomination frowned on games of chance, but he had needed the money. One of his congregation had come up pregnant and they had to get it resolved before the three-month deadline for abortions. He knew that if his wife found out about Carmen, then she would divorce him. He was here to break every major rule that he professed to hold dear each week. His plan for quick money had failed, so he’d visited the bar. Now he hoped that eating would guide him back to sobriety. He had to think of another plan.
Seeing that… priest had annoyed him. Had he not been inebriated, he would never have said what he did, nor stared so rudely in the first place. Yet he wanted someone on whom to vent the anger he felt, that arose from fear and he’d always disliked the papists. If his wife divorced him, if the scandal involving the woman who cleaned the church all week and then occupied the back pew every Sunday ever broke; he would lose his ministry, his livelihood. His degree in Theology would be worthless. He might be able to get a job teaching, at some secular school, but most would not hire fervent Christians like himself.
He stared dejectedly at his plate of food that had contained more spice and flavors than he liked, a shadow passed in his periphery. It was low-slung and blurred just a bit as it loped along the wall. He thought he heard an odd laugh, somewhere between human and… canine? Maybe a little like a hyena might sound, or so he imagined. There was a manic quality to the laughter. A jest that was on him so that only the other Entity knew what it was. It was the wicked laughter of children at play, who’d decided to target a fat kid with glasses. A kid whose parents had been abusive addicts but who later “got right” through religious-based recovery programs. Their faith had led him to his own, but he’d never really lost those early traumas of being unaccepted by his peers and being beaten by people who later professed faith above all.
A mocking whine, definitely doggish, his now sobering consciousness informed him. Something was making fun of him, teasing him from the shadows. He looked around for staff members or other customers but found himself alone. The dining area and the dance floor were deserted. It was odd, there was almost always someone at the buffet service tables. He looked over to the kitchen doors in hopes that one of the employees would burst through with a fresh serving of chicken wings or whatever tray had been emptied. He saw dark figures move past the clouded round windows on the swinging doors and temporarily occlude the bright kitchen lights within, but they were indistinct blobs, and appeared to be focused on tasks of their own choosing rather than service of his needs.
He stood and realized that he was more intoxicated than he’d realized. He immediately resumed his seat and bent forward to regain his balance and bearings… and to swallow his rising gorge. When he sat up again, a dark, shaggy form perched in the chair across from him. The figure was no more than a silhouette, a raggedly hewn shadow. Yet there were eyes. Sinister golden gleams appeared and blinked at him. He heard a heavy, panting sort of breathing and a gust of foul-smelling carnivore breath assaulted his olfactory senses. “Who? Er, what are you doing at my table?” he asked in a mushy, confused manner. Still fighting off waves of nausea.
He could not see it very well in the poorly illuminated dining room, but his impression was that the... Being… smiled at him: a gaping, lolling smile, with a tongue dangling out to one side and sharp canines gleaming. “I thought I would check on you my righteous friend. You seem to be upset, unhappy. You nipped and barked at that other person who shares your Faith. I thought perhaps there was a deeper concern preying on your conscience?”
Pastor Bill had to force himself to think through what this… person? Had said to him. Likely some hippie-dippy weirdo. “That guy was a Catholic priest, we’re nowhere near the same Religion.”
Once more he heard the chortling laughter that was now very clear, “I’m sure you think it’s different. Those of his specific religion, came to these lands many years ago. They were the first of you Christians to arrive. The rest have been simple variations on a theme. The problems began, when your co-religionists assumed that only your God exists; that all of the local Gods and Spirits were instead Demons and Dark Powers. Instead of trying to show that yours is a better Way, you Christians insisted that yours is the only Way. You’ve forgotten that in Ancient Times, people held True to Deities who were attached to local communities or to the land and features around them; geographically and ethnically relevant. You have gone from subsuming and incorporating Older Gods as Angels and Saints, to Demonizing Them, and now in your hubris, to denying Them altogether.” He shook His head. “Too bad really, it creates an Adversarial relationship.” He chuckled at some joke that Pastor Bill was still too drunk to comprehend.
Pastor Bill had grown increasingly fearful as the Voice intoned Its Philosophies. He wanted to refute that Voice, to deny Its very Existence. Yet he feared Its Wrath more than anything he’d ever feared, even the Fires of Hell. Instead of making a stand and arguing his faith, he staggered to his feet and ran, stumbled, blindly toward the kitchen and the pale, ghostly figures within. Surely someone within would save him! The sardonic laughter chortled after him and chased him into the too bright lights, descending into the yips and howls of Coyote even as the doors swung shut behind him. He looked around at the glowing white figures who halted in their various progresses to stare at him. Their eyes! There were none, just empty sockets, faces slack, with gaping, lamprey maws. He heard a new sound as they swarmed him… his own forlorn screams of ultimate agony.
**** * ****
Fr. Bayani stood out on the River Overlook platform and enjoyed the solitude that had so recently left him restless. There were plenty of noises out across the flowing torrent: the water itself, as it passed over hidden objects, fish as they leapt from its embrace to kiss the night air, frogs and insects, and the warbling, mournful sounds of a loon, and the soft sigh of the wind as it passed through the verdant landscape. This is much more peaceful than the White Dove he thought. He had some trouble shaking off ruminations on the verbal assault from the strange, possibly drunken man in the restaurant. He decided that he would pray for the man, that he would one day soon find The True Faith. Sometimes that was all one could do for the short-sighted.
He heard a deep, coughing hiss out in the dark. He was startled but quickly realized that it was an American Alligator, cousin to creatures he had observed in many places around the planet. He was truly content, at one with Nature in all Her Glory… in all the natural splendor of Creation! he immediately corrected himself. A sound impinged on his senses as it slowly rose and obscured the others… it was a lapping sound at first, more like ocean waves on a beach than the banks of a river. Waves, at cross purposes to the flow of the river, slapped at the base of the platform. Soon they sounds evolved into splashes, as if something very large approached the River Overlook platform. He leaned over the rail to have a closer look. Perhaps it was a large water creature or a boat… maybe a ‘gator as the locals called the big reptiles.
He peered down at the dim rippling surface below. At first, he was unable to discern anything but small reflections on the water as it swirled and lapped; then from below the surface, he spotted an eye, a too large eye! It glowed from within with a sickly luminescence akin to that produced by deep growing fungi. As he stared in horror, he saw a mouth gape below the eye, and enormous frog-like opening with no teeth but serrated lips, like some monstrous catfish. As he stared, too much in shock to act, he suddenly felt his body wrapped in strong, leprous flesh and he quickly lost his ability to breathe. The last sight he saw before he plunged over the safety rail was the thin, grey, first light of dawn.
**** * ****
Chief Harry Whitehorse gazed around at his fellow chiefs and Shamans from various local Tribes, “So, are The Dark Ones satisfied once again? Have They sated their appetites on strangers so that our peoples will be safe for another year?”
Affirmative rumbles muttered around the conference room. Red Wolf, a Shaman, spoke from near the back row, “They are not only satisfied but Coyote assures us that the prey people will not be linked with our premises or business operations.”
Most of the fresh mutters sounded pleased, but old Harry had to ask, “Can we trust Him?”
Chortling laughter sounded throughout the conference room and ascended into thunderous yips and howls of hysterical glee.
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Rough Night at the Running Bear Casino (PAGE 2 of 2)

**** * ****
Hussein nudged his brother Iqbal and aimed his chin toward the bar. “Look, a fat, stupid American has finally managed some success.”
Iqbal smirked, “It is the only way the infidels can succeed. They have no education and no skills to do anything useful. They don’t even worship their own God anymore, only money and fame. They will soon learn better…”
The brothers were out enjoying a night of revelry, with a few more planned when they reached the city. The celebrations were a last reward before they fulfilled their mission and achieved True Paradise through martyrdom. Hussein was superstitious and hoped to find success at gambling before they took the great risk that if successful, would help to sustain their cause. They’d grown up in this land of debauchery and foolishness but had been taught from the first to honor their own Beliefs and culture above anything the Americans professed.
Hussein was on roll number five of what he intended to be a short run. He wished to win five times for the Five Pillars of Islam, the name of his cell in the latest great Jihad. He blew on the dice and tossed. The small cubes bounced against the back side of the pit and tumbled end over end as he watched breathlessly. “Another ten!” the barker called. And pushed the winnings toward Hussein. He placed a minimum bet and rolled once more. He had already left the table before the barker called, “Snakeyes! Next roller please.”
He held up his chips triumphantly, “Iqbal, more money from roll number five! I kept the bet in place for five rolls, I left only the minimum for the last roll, it is a Sign! We are fated to succeed. We will meet the others tomorrow, go over the plan, and then have a few last nights to revel in this world…”
Iqbal patted his brother on the shoulder, “There is something I would like more than winning chips. He nodded toward the bar and the attractive and sinuous young local who worked behind it, steadily polishing glasses.
Hussein watched for a moment, unsure whether his brother meant the alcoholic drinks that had been forbidden until now or the woman. Knowing Iqbal, he assumed both. “As you wish brother. Take your mortal enjoyments while you can. She looks a little sullen though, frown, lowered brows, I like the happy ones.”
Iqbal’s serpent-like smile widened, “She will look better when I have freed her from the miseries of the uncircumcised. She will enjoy a real man. Who knows? Maybe I will convert her so that we can meet again in Paradise.” With that, he surged away from his brother and slithered up to the bar opposite the young First Nations maid. “Good evening, I noticed that you do not have many customers at the bar. It seems odd that so beautiful a creature as yourself would not attract more company.”
The woman ignored him, intently focused on her task. He tried again, “Perhaps I must order a drink to remain at the bar? If so, a gin and tonic if you please.”
She continued to polish the glass. He leaned forward, “Did you hear me?” he inquired in an annoyed tone. “Perhaps you have no business because you are surly and unhelpful.”
She looked at him and delivered a smirk that appeared to be far more evil than anything he could ever hope to muster, despite his thin, reptilian lips and predatory mind, “We don’t want customers to linger at the bar, getting drunk and building from misery to anger over their losses. We want them playing… and losing.” She leaned toward him and glared into his own eyes that he normally considered flinty and daunting. “You know about losing, don’t you?”
Hussein noted that the large man at the end of the bar in the “Security” shirt had begun stumping toward them. “Iqbal, perhaps it is time to go look for other entertainment.”
Iqbal ignored him, he was trapped in the serpent’s gaze, like a mouse dropped into a snake’s tank to be devoured while its owner watched with perverse interest. Hussein reached for his brother to tug at his arm but never got the chance. The big security officer seized his hand, drew it to his too wide chest and turned. The weight of the man drew him away from his brother and caused him to spin around so that he ended up facing the goon with his brother beyond the man and in the clutches of the Serpent Woman. The ham-fisted gargantuan continued to twist the hand he gripped until the pressure caused Hussein sever pain. He grunted and bent into the angle of his wrist to relieve the distress. He found himself bent forward and looking up desperately toward the man’s face.
The security staffer smiled, his square, blunt teeth showing dark behind an almost lipless mouth. His wide back and chest, covered in body armor under his shirt made him appear like a monster-sized… Turtle. Hussein felt himself lifted and placed behind the bar. His brother soon slithered over the top and fell to the floor beside him, smiling beatifically. Hussein opened his mouth to scream for help, but a large, blunt fist crashed into the side of his head and he saw stars… seven of them, like the Holy... The fist descended once more, and he saw only darkness.
**** * ****
Fr. Danilo Bayani was immensely enjoying his latest trip to the continental USA. He had visited Hawaii many years ago, and New York City more recently, but this was his first tour of the grand landbound spaces that this country offered. He’d managed to roam so far from his origins in Manila. Now, in his twilight years, he longed to see what he could of God’s Green Earth. All on the payroll of The Vatican while they cleanse the records of those hateful… allegations. The bitter thoughts raced across his mind. Of course he was a sinner, he was only mortal. He’d been expiated of those sins and had paid an enormous price to continue serving in his capacity as a parish priest. He forced his mind to return to the moment and more enjoyable pursuits.
He noted the hirsute and similar appearing pair of men who had gone to the bar and wondered why the Security officer approached them, but his attention was called once more to the round of Texas Hold’em and his table mates. When he again had a moment to look, no one was at the bar, in front or behind… curious, he thought, but he quickly refocused his attention on the fascinating new game he was in the process of learning. He was familiar with Poker, so it wasn’t difficult to learn. He liked the high level of interaction that this version of the old game allowed. He’d done well, certainly gained enough to fund extracurricular activities during the rest of his current sabbatical.
He’d been disturbed by the overall atmosphere of this place when he’d arrived. He did not care for the numerous paintings and sculptures of Ancient Native Deities and Spirits. They seemed to be mostly images of the Dark Beings of various Tribal cultures. He loved to study diverse cultures, but this place was an amalgamation of cultures, built for mutual support by several Tribes in the region. Much of the artwork was schlocky and clearly intended to cater to the garish and sordid tastes of the vapid gambling set. Some part of him did not feel… welcome, as though he had intruded on some private Place, set aside for Other Gods.
He shook off the depressing musings… There are NO Other Gods, he reassured himself. He soon stepped away from the table to take care of personal needs and to decide what he should do with the rest of his night. Perhaps he would visit the White Dove Restaurant & Ballroom on the other side of the hotel lobby from the casino. It boasted a good reputation according to online reviews, even though it was a simple buffet style with a dance floor to one side. He liked the name, it was… peaceful he decided.
He soon had a selection of food piled onto a plate and was seated near the dance floor. The place was sparsely occupied, so his hopes of being able to watch dancers as he ate were dashed. Still, the food was good enough. A little bland, but that was necessary in a place that acted as a crossroads of cultures. There was a spice table at the end of the primary row of entrees. He’d helped himself, yet nothing seemed to attach to his taste buds. The combination of eating nearly alone, having no one with energy around him, and the tasteless food soon had him growing restless. He finished up his repast and left the table to go out to the final section of the complex he had not visited, the River Overlook.
As he passed the table nearest the entrance, he saw a stout man in a rumpled sport coat, who glared daggers at him, eyes focused on his crucifix, the only outward sign of his profession. The man appeared to be so hostile, that he paused for a moment to determine whether he’d done anything to offend the fellow. “Excuse me sir, have I offended you in some way?”
The man looked startled. He was apparently unused to being confronted about his demeanor or behavior. He scowled, “Don’t like that thing you have around your neck. You Catholics are all Hell-bound. No concept of righteousness. Not that you’d understand, you people don’t even read The Book. You listen to your priests and pope and disregard The Word. All the kneeling and ritual prayers in the world won’t save you in the end. Go back to your idols and beads and leave me alone to seek Heaven.”
Fr. Bayani was startled by the vehemence with which the man spoke. He hadn’t been attacked directly for his Faith in years. “Sir, I’m not sure what Religion you practice, but I am a man of God, a consecrated priest of the Holy Church. I assure you that I understand more than most, if not as much as I would like. I meant no harm and wish you a peaceful night.”
With that, he started to walk past the man, but the man rose from his table and pointed his finger, “Your pope is the Anti-Christ, and your Church is a place of Satan! Look to the Bible for your salvation before it’s too late.”
Fr. Bayani increased his pace and continued on his journey to the River Overlook. He would need the peace and tranquility that nature and the sound of flowing water would provide to settle his roiling mind.
**** * ****
Pastor Bill resumed his seat and shook his head, “Fool, doesn’t know that he’s risking his soul, courting Damnation.” He’d had a bad run at the tables over at the casino. His Denomination frowned on games of chance, but he had needed the money. One of his congregation had come up pregnant and they had to get it resolved before the three-month deadline for abortions. He knew that if his wife found out about Carmen, then she would divorce him. He was here to break every major rule that he professed to hold dear each week. His plan for quick money had failed, so he’d visited the bar. Now he hoped that eating would guide him back to sobriety. He had to think of another plan.
Seeing that… priest had annoyed him. Had he not been inebriated, he would never have said what he did, nor stared so rudely in the first place. Yet he wanted someone on whom to vent the anger he felt, that arose from fear and he’d always disliked the papists. If his wife divorced him, if the scandal involving the woman who cleaned the church all week and then occupied the back pew every Sunday ever broke; he would lose his ministry, his livelihood. His degree in Theology would be worthless. He might be able to get a job teaching, at some secular school, but most would not hire fervent Christians like himself.
He stared dejectedly at his plate of food that had contained more spice and flavors than he liked, a shadow passed in his periphery. It was low-slung and blurred just a bit as it loped along the wall. He thought he heard an odd laugh, somewhere between human and… canine? Maybe a little like a hyena might sound, or so he imagined. There was a manic quality to the laughter. A jest that was on him so that only the other Entity knew what it was. It was the wicked laughter of children at play, who’d decided to target a fat kid with glasses. A kid whose parents had been abusive addicts but who later “got right” through religious-based recovery programs. Their faith had led him to his own, but he’d never really lost those early traumas of being unaccepted by his peers and being beaten by people who later professed faith above all.
A mocking whine, definitely doggish, his now sobering consciousness informed him. Something was making fun of him, teasing him from the shadows. He looked around for staff members or other customers but found himself alone. The dining area and the dance floor were deserted. It was odd, there was almost always someone at the buffet service tables. He looked over to the kitchen doors in hopes that one of the employees would burst through with a fresh serving of chicken wings or whatever tray had been emptied. He saw dark figures move past the clouded round windows on the swinging doors and temporarily occlude the bright kitchen lights within, but they were indistinct blobs, and appeared to be focused on tasks of their own choosing rather than service of his needs.
He stood and realized that he was more intoxicated than he’d realized. He immediately resumed his seat and bent forward to regain his balance and bearings… and to swallow his rising gorge. When he sat up again, a dark, shaggy form perched in the chair across from him. The figure was no more than a silhouette, a raggedly hewn shadow. Yet there were eyes. Sinister golden gleams appeared and blinked at him. He heard a heavy, panting sort of breathing and a gust of foul-smelling carnivore breath assaulted his olfactory senses. “Who? Er, what are you doing at my table?” he asked in a mushy, confused manner. Still fighting off waves of nausea.
He could not see it very well in the poorly illuminated dining room, but his impression was that the... Being… smiled at him: a gaping, lolling smile, with a tongue dangling out to one side and sharp canines gleaming. “I thought I would check on you my righteous friend. You seem to be upset, unhappy. You nipped and barked at that other person who shares your Faith. I thought perhaps there was a deeper concern preying on your conscience?”
Pastor Bill had to force himself to think through what this… person? Had said to him. Likely some hippie-dippy weirdo. “That guy was a Catholic priest, we’re nowhere near the same Religion.”
Once more he heard the chortling laughter that was now very clear, “I’m sure you think it’s different. Those of his specific religion, came to these lands many years ago. They were the first of you Christians to arrive. The rest have been simple variations on a theme. The problems began, when your co-religionists assumed that only your God exists; that all of the local Gods and Spirits were instead Demons and Dark Powers. Instead of trying to show that yours is a better Way, you Christians insisted that yours is the only Way. You’ve forgotten that in Ancient Times, people held True to Deities who were attached to local communities or to the land and features around them; geographically and ethnically relevant. You have gone from subsuming and incorporating Older Gods as Angels and Saints, to Demonizing Them, and now in your hubris, to denying Them altogether.” He shook His head. “Too bad really, it creates an Adversarial relationship.” He chuckled at some joke that Pastor Bill was still too drunk to comprehend.
Pastor Bill had grown increasingly fearful as the Voice intoned Its Philosophies. He wanted to refute that Voice, to deny Its very Existence. Yet he feared Its Wrath more than anything he’d ever feared, even the Fires of Hell. Instead of making a stand and arguing his faith, he staggered to his feet and ran, stumbled, blindly toward the kitchen and the pale, ghostly figures within. Surely someone within would save him! The sardonic laughter chortled after him and chased him into the too bright lights, descending into the yips and howls of Coyote even as the doors swung shut behind him. He looked around at the glowing white figures who halted in their various progresses to stare at him. Their eyes! There were none, just empty sockets, faces slack, with gaping, lamprey maws. He heard a new sound as they swarmed him… his own forlorn screams of ultimate agony.
**** * ****
Fr. Bayani stood out on the River Overlook platform and enjoyed the solitude that had so recently left him restless. There were plenty of noises out across the flowing torrent: the water itself, as it passed over hidden objects, fish as they leapt from its embrace to kiss the night air, frogs and insects, and the warbling, mournful sounds of a loon, and the soft sigh of the wind as it passed through the verdant landscape. This is much more peaceful than the White Dove he thought. He had some trouble shaking off ruminations on the verbal assault from the strange, possibly drunken man in the restaurant. He decided that he would pray for the man, that he would one day soon find The True Faith. Sometimes that was all one could do for the short-sighted.
He heard a deep, coughing hiss out in the dark. He was startled but quickly realized that it was an American Alligator, cousin to creatures he had observed in many places around the planet. He was truly content, at one with Nature in all Her Glory… in all the natural splendor of Creation! he immediately corrected himself. A sound impinged on his senses as it slowly rose and obscured the others… it was a lapping sound at first, more like ocean waves on a beach than the banks of a river. Waves, at cross purposes to the flow of the river, slapped at the base of the platform. Soon they sounds evolved into splashes, as if something very large approached the River Overlook platform. He leaned over the rail to have a closer look. Perhaps it was a large water creature or a boat… maybe a ‘gator as the locals called the big reptiles.
He peered down at the dim rippling surface below. At first, he was unable to discern anything but small reflections on the water as it swirled and lapped; then from below the surface, he spotted an eye, a too large eye! It glowed from within with a sickly luminescence akin to that produced by deep growing fungi. As he stared in horror, he saw a mouth gape below the eye, and enormous frog-like opening with no teeth but serrated lips, like some monstrous catfish. As he stared, too much in shock to act, he suddenly felt his body wrapped in strong, leprous flesh and he quickly lost his ability to breathe. The last sight he saw before he plunged over the safety rail was the thin, grey, first light of dawn.
**** * ****
Chief Harry Whitehorse gazed around at his fellow chiefs and Shamans from various local Tribes, “So, are The Dark Ones satisfied once again? Have They sated their appetites on strangers so that our peoples will be safe for another year?”
Affirmative rumbles muttered around the conference room. Red Wolf, a Shaman, spoke from near the back row, “They are not only satisfied but Coyote assures us that the prey people will not be linked with our premises or business operations.”
Most of the fresh mutters sounded pleased, but old Harry had to ask, “Can we trust Him?”
Chortling laughter sounded throughout the conference room and ascended into thunderous yips and howls of hysterical glee.
submitted by BearLair64 to MadameRavensDarlings [link] [comments]

Kickstarter Roundup: September 31, 2020 | 25+ Ending Soon (including: Mercado de Lisboa) & 20+ New This Week (including: Outsmarted)

What this is:

This is a weekly, curated listing of Kickstarter board game projects that are either:
All board game projects meeting those criteria will automatically be included, no need to ask. (The occasional non-board game project may also sneak in!)
Expect new lists each Sunday sometime between midnight and noon PST.

Ending Soon

Project Info Players Backers Min / Avg Pledge Ends Comments
Cradle of Civilization Two games in one that play through the ancient civilizations of the Near East and the fall of the Persian Empire. // Has raised $9,165 of $2,500 so far. (~367%) ☑ 3 - 6 110 $65 / $83 Sep 13 kicktraq
BIRDIE! Expansion Pack - Two new courses! Two new courses in a BIRDIE! Expansion Pack. Get ready to roll with us again! // Has raised $22,859 of $7,500 so far. (~305%) ☑ 476 $ / $48 Sep 13 kicktraq #expansion
Biblios Q&P + Dr Finn's 2021 games Dr. Finn's 2021 line of games, including Biblios: Quill and Parchment, Nanga Parbat, Mining Colony, and Butterfly Garden (2nd edition). // Has raised $70,862 of $40,000 so far. (~177%) ☑ varies 1058 $23 / $67 Sep 14 kicktraq
VT Heroes: Deck-Building Fighting Card Game A fast-paced, Deck-Building Fighting Card Game themed in the genre of tokusatsu (à la Power Rangers)! Nostalgia meets arcade fighting! // Has raised $9,677 of $500 so far. (~1935%) ☑ 2 82 $40 / $118 Sep 14 kicktraq
Long Live the King A Game of Secrecy and Subterfuge - Secret Identities, Social Deduction, and Murder... // Has raised $9,274 of $500 so far. (~1855%) ☑ 4 - 8 271 $25 / $34 Sep 15 kicktraq
This Game Gets You Drunk (and Smashed) The drinking party game that gets you and your friends drunk in 20mins or less! // Has raised A$9,567 of A$2,000 so far. (~478%) ☑ 1+ 207 $14 / A$46 Sep 15 kicktraq
Skirmish: Wallet Friendly Wargaming A budget tactics wargame that uses things you already own for game pieces. // Has raised £3,309 of £700 so far. (~473%) ☑ 2 - ? 179 $20 / £18 Sep 16 kicktraq
Thalara: The Last Artifacts A fast-paced, highly interactive, asymmetric hand-building strategy card game with low luck and a unique twist! // Has raised €9,251 of €5,120 so far. (~181%) ☑ 2 - 4 345 $15 / €27 Sep 16 kicktraq
Sh*tty Werewolf Like the classic social party game Werewolf, but shittier. // Has raised $6,976 of $420 so far. (~1661%) ☑ 572 $8 / $12 Sep 16 kicktraq
Politraces business game about politics // Has raised $399 of $99 so far. (~403%) ☑ 2 - 4 6 $99 / $67 Sep 16 kicktraq #lolwut
Who are the legends Who are the Legends? is a fast-paced, competitive, educational card game not just for kids but for all ages. // Has raised $2,707 of $1,400 so far. (~193%) ☑ 2 - 4 60 $28 / $45 Sep 17 kicktraq #take2
The Latin Quarter Gaming Chips Gaming Chips and Playing Cards // Has raised $17,005 of $5,000 so far. (~340%) ☑ 163 $65 / $104 Sep 17 kicktraq #bling
The Belgian Beers Race - Boardgame Have a crazy race through Belgium and its breweries. // Has raised €57,103 of €15,000 so far. (~381%) ☑ 2 - 4 786 $60 / €73 Sep 17 kicktraq
Die of the Dead Guide souls back to the land of the living in this Día de Muertos themed dice game featuring beautiful components and unique gameplay. // Has raised £30,408 of £7,000 so far. (~434%) ☑ 2 - 5 1235 $35 / £25 Sep 17 kicktraq
ICE CREAM YOU SCREAM! The Family Game of Dice, Holiday Gift! 5th Kickstarter!! Previous Projects We Love also available: ICE CREAM EMPIRE, WHISKEY BUSINESS!, BREW HA HA!, & READ BETWEEN THE WINES! // Has raised $14,217 of $20,000 so far. (~71%) 2 - 6 205 $40 / $69 Sep 17 kicktraq
Runes of Zun: Strategy Card Game A game of tricky traps, killer combos, and sudden betrayals. // Has raised $6,319 of $5,000 so far. (~126%) ☑ 2 - 4 183 $ / $35 Sep 17 kicktraq
GOLAZO The fast paced football board game that puts you at the centre of the action. Choose your tactics, make your moves and take the shot. // Has raised £13,002 of £9,999 so far. (~130%) ☑ 2 419 $32 / £31 Sep 17 kicktraq
The North: Provenance A combo building card game for two set in a cold, dark future. Strikingly Illustrated by Aaron Nakahara & Designed by John Clowdus. // Has raised $9,240 of $6,000 so far. (~154%) ☑ 2 322 $25 / $29 Sep 17 kicktraq
The Science Lab Memory Game: A STEM Initiative Round 2 A good old-fashioned memory game with a science lab twist. Lets get our kids and youth curious in science! // Has raised C$1038 of C$1000 so far. (~104%) ☑ 1+ 25 $ / C$42 Sep 17 kicktraq #take2
Deck of Wonders A solo (and co-op) legacy card game where Fate herself has stacked the deck against you. // Has raised $40,768 of $20,000 so far. (~204%) ☑ 1 - 2 1151 $35 / $35 Sep 17 kicktraq
Mercado de Lisboa A thinky filler game by Julián Pombo and Vital Lacerda with artwork by Pedro Soto // Has raised $109,751 of $25,000 so far. (~439%) ☑ 1 - 4 3773 $34 / $29 Sep 18 kicktraq
Galaxy Hunters Pick your merc, customize your mech, and compete against 2 to 4 players in a fierce rivalry to be the top mutant hunter in the system. // Has raised $80,299 of $80,000 so far. (~100%) ☑ 2 - 4 921 $79 / $87 Sep 18 kicktraq
Knights Of NorthRnd A 2-6 player, fast place, last man standing card game, based on the concept of Rock Paper Scissors // Has raised £1,205 of £2,000 so far. (~60%) 2 - 6 43 $12 / £28 Sep 19 kicktraq #take3
Pocket-Tactics A modular miniature tactics board game with traditional print-and-play and 3d-printing options. // Has raised $10,358 of $1,000 so far. (~1036%) ☑ 2+ 414 $5 / $25 Sep 19 kicktraq
Kingdom of Aros Kingdom of Aros is a RPG boardgame. Ever played games like Zelda this could be for you. Including special Kids rules and parts. // Has raised €8,808 of €500 so far. (~1762%) ☑ 283 $31 / €31 Sep 19 kicktraq

New This Week

Project Info Players Backers Min / Avg Pledge Ends Comments
2020: THE BOARD GAME - Game of ups and downs -- mainly downs An instant classic. Play this game with future grandkids and reminisce about the bad old days. Who can escape 2020 the quickest? // Has raised $937 of $12,000 so far. (~8%) 23 $25 / $41 Oct 10 #lolwut
Arcana Magica A 2-4 people fast, tactical competitive board game. It combines gorgeous Poker and Tarot cards with 7 dice in a battle between armies. // Has raised €4,586 of €13,600 so far. (~34%) 2 - 4 105 $43 / €44 Oct 02
Assault on the Marmot King - Flip&Write Game Assault on the Marmot King is a flip-and-write game, in PnP format,of square puzzle, patterns and road building. // Has raised €1,115 of €250 so far. (~446%) ☑ 1 - 5 181 $3 / €6 Sep 28
Asunder Board Game Addictive worker placement strategy game with cooperative battle mechanics that offers rewarding variability and high replay value. // Has raised $8,195 of $10,000 so far. (~82%) 2 - 5 59 $79 / $139 Oct 08
Compound Chicken - a card game A card game to add meaning to your life! // Has raised $1,206 of $3,500 so far. (~34%) 37 $15 / $33 Oct 08 #take2
Dreidel Revolution It's a miracle! Dreidel games you'll actually enjoy. A new spin on a Hanukkah classic! // Has raised $3,128 of $5,000 so far. (~63%) 3 - 6 56 $25 / $56 Oct 08
Feudal Endeavor (Kickstarter Exclusive) Build an impressive fiefdom in the era of Catherine the Great! A game of hidden bidding, tableau building and simultaneous actions. // Has raised C$3008 of C$12900 so far. (~23%) 3 - 6 61 $40 / C$49 Oct 02 #take3
Ghosts on Oak Island An exciting board game for 2 to 6 players. Outwit and out speed other pirates & overcome various perils to get the treasure! // Has raised $2,132 of $3,200 so far. (~67%) 2 - 6 26 $45 / $82 Oct 09
Ghoullotine A Halloween and Blackjack inspired card game. // Has raised $1,337 of $997 so far. (~134%) ☑ 2 - 10 37 $20 / $36 Oct 08 #take2
Hike It! Smoky Mountain Edition Experience the thrills & challenges of backpacking in the Smoky Mountains as you compete with other hikers for the most experiences. // Has raised $2,805 of $58,000 so far. (~5%) 2 - 4 83 $29 / $34 Oct 21
Katootsie!© - The Exciting NEW Party Game! (Updated Project) Welcome to the updated Kickstarter page for Katootsie!© The exciting NEW party game that relies on quick-thinking word savvy! // Has raised $2,021 of $3,500 so far. (~58%) 2 - 10 47 $25 / $43 Sep 22 #take2
Last Days of Athobrae - Final Countdown A strategy, resource gathering game where the planet falls to pieces beneath your feet, and the first to build a ship and escape wins! // Has raised $6,425 of $4,750 so far. (~135%) ☑ 2 - 5 71 $59 / $90 Sep 22
Manipulated Paths A 1v1 Dungeon making deck building card game. // Has raised $46 of $8,500 so far. (~1%) 2 3 $27 / $15 Oct 10
Monsters on Board A spooky dice-drafting game with custom dice, 3D cardboard cars and colorful monster minis // Has raised $97,540 of $30,000 so far. (~325%) ☑ 1 - 4 1493 $54 / $65 Sep 30
Outsmarted - The Revolutionary TV Quiz Show Board Game! Feel the pressure.. Rack your brains.. Beat the clock.. Ground-breaking, immersive & thrilling gameplay for 2 to 24 players. Ages 8+ // Has raised £60,950 of £20,000 so far. (~305%) ☑ 2 - 24 2210 $30 / £28 Oct 11
Plunder Wars A game of luck, quick thinking and treachery! // Has raised £421 of £200 so far. (~210%) ☑ 2 - 4 23 $18 / £18 Oct 10
ROBOTS! A casual strategy card game for 2-5 players Try to build powerful robots while players interfere with construction efforts. It's a simple game with many different ways to win. // Has raised $1,260 of $1,000 so far. (~126%) ☑ 2 - 5 28 $29 / $45 Oct 20
Rus' A 2-4 player game of secret identities and estate building! Climb the classes and deceive your way into royalty! // Has raised $6,859 of $18,000 so far. (~38%) 2 - 4 105 $34 / $65 Oct 08
SSO: The Rage of Montalbano 1-6 Players, 90 Minutes, Age 14+. Co-operate, betray, survive. // Has raised £4,141 of £7,500 so far. (~55%) 1 - 6 151 $16 / £27 Oct 09 #expansion
The North: Provenance A combo building card game for two set in a cold, dark future. Strikingly Illustrated by Aaron Nakahara & Designed by John Clowdus. // Has raised $9,240 of $6,000 so far. (~154%) ☑ 2 322 $25 / $29 Sep 17
The Reckoners: Steelslayer An expansion to the cooperative board game based on the books by Brandon Sanderson. // Has raised $184,262 of $50,000 so far. (~369%) ☑ 1 - 6 2115 $59 / $87 Oct 01 #expansion
Trapped in Time - Monthly Envelope Escape Room A fantastic adventure every month in your mailbox. // Has raised €14 of €2,500 so far. (~1%) 1 - 4 3 $12 / €5 Oct 19
Trump The World Beat Trump at his own game by pointing out what is true and what is not ! // Has raised C$161 of C$1000 so far. (~16%) 3+ 5 $19 / C$32 Oct 10 #lolwut
TYPE 7: Solitaire and 2 Player Submarine Warfare It´s 1939. You possess authentic weapons and technology in a thrilling fog of war where every decision you take may be your last. // Has raised €17,063 of €3,000 so far. (~569%) ☑ 1 - 2 109 $47 / €157 Oct 04

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Footnotes

submitted by Zelbinian to boardgames [link] [comments]

Shattered Helix - 1.07 ‌-‌ All That Work for Chits

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~‌ ‌1.07 ‌-‌ All That Work for Chits ‌~‌
Kyle’s Apartment
Wednesday, June 11th
Opening his eyes, Kyle looked over at his alarm clock. The time was 7:14 in the morning. He had been in the game for a little over five hours this time. The teen got up and went to the bathroom to take care of his needs, then made a trip to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Sitting down on the couch, he brought up a web browser on his augmented vision. Checking his favorite gaming news sites, he saw Massively OP already had a handful of articles about Fantasy. The top article talked about how Fantasy with the new Neurolink implant combined to create the first true digital world with all senses intact.
The writer wrote how he and another player became buddies with one of the town's guards and was able to find a hidden quest for him which didn’t show in their logs. They also became great friends with the guard and had pints of ale with him later that day. The author of the article went on to say he was able to talk to the guard about any subject. The guard responded and gave opinions on almost everything they talked about, like he was a real person with his own thoughts. The author’s main point about his first day playing was that the new AI systems that controlled each NPC was extraordinary.
He pulled up his email to see if Iron or Elen had gotten his contact details from Sinn3r and found nothing in his inbox. Checking on some other sites produced more of the same. Everyone was in love with the game, and people were foaming at the mouth to get their chance. The second batch of users were slated to start playing early next week with the Delve Neurolink. Kyle had figured most would start playing Fantasy with the capsules until they could upgrade their implants, but a few articles told players who wished to play with the implant to hold off on starting but didn’t give the reasons why. He sent an email to his Uncle William, letting him know how the game was and that he would be incognito for most of the summer playing Fantasy.
Finishing up on checking a few more sites and drinking his water bottle, Kyle closed out his augmented tabs in his vision and went back to bed.
“Initiate Delve.”
[Delve Initializing]
Kyle found himself flying through the stars at warp speed once again for a few moments before materializing on the back terrace of his house in his MicroWorld.
“Hey, Bob, can you make me the same Gnome as Flea in Fantasy here as well? The perspective shift is a bit hard to get used to.”
Kyle found himself shrinking down to his gnome avatar without Bob saying anything.
“Thank you, Bob.”
Now a Gnome, Kyle walked to the pavilion and by opening the door to Fantasy logged in.
The Drunken Ogre
2nd Spirtday of The Full Moon
Getting up from his bed in the inn, Flea grabbed everything out of the chest and made his way downstairs. A few players were still hanging around, chatting and drinking in the common room. The Gnome made his way outside and headed towards the town’s North Gate. He noticed a different guard stationed there, nodded to him as he left the town. He could only make out a few players farming the rabbits this late at night, as he got closer to the yellow fields.
Walking through the field with his daggers in hand, he made sure to be on the lookout for any rabbit trying to surprise him. Making it to the tree line, he started looking for the Hollyhock he needed. It was then Flea realized a considerable problem; he couldn’t make out shit in the dark.
How are the other players able to see the rabbits well enough to farm them?
Catching one of the players in his sight, he was able to see the player and cursed. He was an Elf, so he assumed he had some type of night vision that helped them farm at night. Flea decided to go back up to the gate and asked the guard if he had an extra torch lying around.
“Too dark for you little one?” the guard asked as Flea got closer.
“Got it in one!” Flea smirked. “Any chance you have any extra torches lying around?
“Sure, we got a ton of them in the shed over near the wall left of the gate. You can take one or two; each will last you all night.”
“Thank you. During the night, is there anything else I should worry about?”
“I’d stay away from the forest at night, as the terrorbears come out in full force. Without a small hunting party, they will rip most people to shreds. Your best bet would head to the mines near the lake at night and mine. There is silver in the mountain, and the runoff has deposited plenty of silver into the lake over the ages, keeping monsters far from its shores.”
“That's what I’ll do then. You know where I can get a pickaxe?”
“You’ll probably find them all over the mines, they are bulky, and no one wants to waste a space inside their bags to store a basic one, so they usually leave them at the entrances.”
“Didn’t even think of that. You’ve been a huge help. Thank you. I’m Flea. Is there anything I could help you with to repay the favor?” Flea asked, hoping to try and buddy up with the guard.
“No problem, Flea, I’m Telen. If you happen to find any extra silver, I could use a couple of chunks. I’m an apprentice Jewelsmith, but silver is hard to come by. Making rings out of iron doesn’t help when you need to learn to work with higher-grade materials.”
“If I happen to find any silver, I’ll think of you first, Telen. I’m off. Thanks again for the info and torches.”
Flea walked over to the shed, opening it. Inside he found barrels with tons of torches in them. Grabbing one, he found the torches’ head was soaking underneath the water at the barrel’s bottom. Taking the torch, he whipped it towards the ground a few times to get the water off the head. Walking over to a torch on the wall, Flea lit it. For the second time that night, he headed out the gate and down the hill. Getting to the bottom, he took a left from the path and headed away from the fields and towards the lake.
It took Flea well over thirty minutes to reach the shore of the lake. Skirting around the lake to the left, he started his trot towards the ridge in the distance. Getting closer, Flea could make out a couple of cave entrances in the distance with warm glows of a torch in them. Flea assumed these caves had players inside already mining.
Walking for a couple more minutes, Flea found himself near the ridge. Walking to his right and keeping the rise to his left, he started looking for one of the mine entrances. It didn’t take long before Flea found one thirty feet ahead of where he had been. Entering the shaft, he looked around but couldn’t find any pickaxes. Checking the next five mines provided nothing as well. He found a couple of pickaxes inside the seventh mine. Grabbing the smallest one, he walked deeper into the mine.
The entire mine shaft looked the same to him. Flea couldn't make out any veins or discolored chunks on the wall. He spent a large amount of time going down the mine shaft and back up to the entrance and not finding anything. He assumed it was just an empty mine. Deciding to go into one of the caves with the glow of a torch at the entrance and hoping to find a player. Upon entering the first lit up entrance, he found a player with a race he was not expecting. A single dark-green goblin with huge pointy ears was cursing up a storm and slamming his pickaxe against the wall over and over.
“Hello?”
“Oie, what's your problem, you bloody cunt?” The goblin shouted out in fright as he jumped back deeper into the mine.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to figure out how to mine. I couldn’t see any iron or veins on the wall to mine in the shafts I’ve checked. I figured I'd come to ask another player if they had any luck. Also, why in the hell a Goblin?”
“No worries, just scare easily at my age. I’ve always chosen a Goblin for my characters. I always end up playing some type of tinker or engineer and wanted to keep it going. I’m Khorwin, by the way, and to answer your question about mining. I’m having a fuck all time myself. I’ve been in almost all of these tunnels, and I’ve yet to find any type of metal anywhere in the first couple hundred feet of the entrance. I’m just randomly digging to see what it gets me.”
“Names Flea, and that's what I’d have done too. Want to share the tunnel and try and figure this out?”
“That sounds like a splendid plan. Let’s go deeper down the cave then. I didn’t want to adventure and travel deeper going solo. It’s rather spooky. I swore I heard low moans coming from deeper down, but with the two of us, it shouldn’t be too bad.”
Khorwin grabbed his torch, pulling it out of the crack he had wedged it into, and they headed off deeper into the cave. They traveled in silence for what seemed like an hour before they found the first hint of what they were looking for, spotting small red flecks among the walls of the shaft. Five minutes later, they came across a sizable reddish-brown vein within the rock low to the ground.
“Well, it seems the mine was bare till here. At Least the vein is lower to the ground for us,” said Khorwin.
He then jammed his torch into a crack on the wall to the right of the iron vein.
“Put yours somewhere to the left, and we should have plenty of light to start digging. Let's just mine out the vein till it’s gone, and we can split it up then.”
Flea followed suit and stuck his torch into the rock face to his left. Grabbing the pickaxe out of his inventory, he started to swing and strike at the vein. The two of them got into a rhythm, hammering away at the vein until nothing was left within the cave wall.
“I'd say we got a pretty good haul even after the split,” Khorwin said.
Flea wiped the sweat off his brow and sat down.
“How the hell aren’t you dying right now. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.”
“Ah got two points in strength already. I got lucky with the rabbits yesterday and was able to get eight cores. With how much mining I plan on doing in the future, I figured it would help out.”
They took their time sorting through the chunks of rock and iron. After finishing up, each had forty-two pieces of iron. They agreed to head deeper into the mine to find more veins so they could sell it in the morning. The duo found two medium iron veins and a small silver vein through the night. When they finally left the cave the next morning, they had a hundred and ten chunks of iron and thirteen chunks of silver each.
“Thanks for the help man, this should make me enough money to pay for some more training. I’ll be up for more mining tonight if you’re available, man. If you need me, you can leave a message at The Drunken Ogre. That’s the inn I’m currently staying at,” Flea said.
“Oh, you bet your bollocks, I’ll take you up on that. These mines are bloody scary as shit when you're by yourself. The guard at the gate said they were safe at all times of the night, but are they really safe if we keep going deeper? I'd rather have someone with me. Want to meet back here at sunset?”
“Sounds good to me. I can finish my first three Adventurers’ Guild quests today. I’ll meet you back here at sunset then, glad I ran into you. I would have had a terrible night trying to find the iron by myself. See you tonight, Khorwin.”
Flea walked towards the forest to start looking for the Hollyhock he needed. In the morning sunlight, he was able to spot them easily in the shade of the larger trees. Two hours later, the morning’s three bells rang. He decided to stop gathering and head to the fields to fill his bag with rabbits. On the way to the fields outside town, he checked his magic bag.
Magic Bag: 11/20
Noto Spawn Crystal Starter Daggers Travel Rations: 5 Canteen: Water Rabbit Hide: 32
Rabbit Horn: 32 Noto Island Map Iron Ore: 100 Iron Ore: 10 Silver Ore: 13
Hollyhock: 31
​ 2c
Nine inventory spots were still open. He decided to kill rabbits and then turn in his three quests.
Flea found Gronky at The Pit and gave him ten new rabbits. He had the nine in his bag and carried a tenth he had killed when he pulled one off a train-runner, deciding to just take the body with him. Flea asked Gronky if he knew where he could find Krem and The Silver Pestle. Krem was easy to find as the tannery’s stench sat right at home near The Pit and wasn't more than a hundred yards from where they were standing. He turned in his thirty hides for a sad 60 copper and the extra two hides for another four copper. He was also given a blue ceramic chit that looked like a poker chip. The chit had Copper printed on both sides that shined with a greenish metallic color.
Gronky’s directions to The Silver Pestle let Flea find it with relative ease. Entering the shop he was assaulted with the heavy scent of pine, with a hint of lavender. The smell brought back an old memory of him and his family on vacation at a cabin on a lake surrounded by the forest. His family used to go there twice a summer for as far as he could remember.
“Welcome, how may Silverfang help you today?” a small female Wolf Beastkin asked him, breaking him out of the memory.
“Hello Silverfang, I have your Hollyhock as per your request. I also have eleven more Hollyhock I wish to sell as well.”
“Welcome young adventurer; thank you for fulfilling our request. We would be happy to buy all the Hollyhock you can gather in any quantities you can obtain. Sadly per the Guild’s rules, I can only give you the quest chit once a day. We will buy each Hollyhock from you at three copper each for a total of 93 coppers, adventurer. Is there anything else you may be interested in selling or purchasing?” Silverfang replied.
“Do you have any useful poisons for daggers? Also, do you buy these rabbit horns?”
“I have a few vials of paralyzing poison for sale at 20 copper each. We’ll also buy the horns from you at one copper each.”
“Alright, I’d like to buy two vials of the paralyzing poison, and I have thirty-two horns on me for sale.”
“Your total is 85 copper. We will buy the Hollyhock for 93 copper. 32 copper for the rabbit horns. Your cost will be 40 copper for the two paralyzing poison vials. Silverfang has had the pleasure of doing business with you.”
He was also handed another blue chit with his coins.
Flea was now 151 copper-rich. He asked the closest guard he could find where Blacksmith Grom could be found and was directed to the west wall. His smithy was the furthest away from the residents of the town.
I’m betting the hammering would drive anyone nuts.
He greeted the Dwarf he assumed was Grom, handed over his twenty iron ore request, and sold him the rest of his iron ore, netting him five silver and 50 copper. Flea quickly figured out 100 copper coins equaled a silver coin. Asking Grom about it revealed a hundred to one ratio; 100 silver to a gold coin, and 100 gold to a Royal coin. Finished with his three quests, he pulled up his journal.
Quest Journal
With the three quests finished, he decided to first wander around the town then head to the Adventurers’ Guild to see if they had any more quests. Taking some time to walk around the town and visit every shop, he introduced himself and browsed their wears. When he spied the time on the clock tower over the top of the buildings close by, he decided to head over to the Adventurers’ Guild, turn in his quest chits and see if new quests were on the boards.
submitted by Daphonic to HFY [link] [comments]

At the Holy Grail Casino, you gamble with a lot more than money

"King-high diamond flush," I said boldly as I laid my cards out on the table.
Despite my strong hand, my heart still thumped in my chest as I waited for the only other player in the hand to reveal his cards. Although my odds of winning were good, I was nervous. If my opponent had the ace...
"Ace-high diamond flush," my train of thought was disrupted and heart my sank. My opponent had the goddamn ace.
Unlike any other time I had played Texas Hold 'Em at a casino, I had no idea what to expect. See, I wasn't at a normal casino. I was at the Holy Grail Casino, where one does not gamble with money.
My opponent had wagered a finger, and I thought that that had been some colloquial way of making a small bet. Just as we frequently say "an arm and a leg" figuratively for an exorbitant cost, I thought that 'finger' was being used in the same context. I was proven brutally wrong when the dealer, without a hint of emotion, pulled a large knife out from some concealed location and chopped my pinky finger off.
I screamed, both in pain and disbelief. I had been expecting the most intense gambling experience of a life time, but I hadn't imagined anything of this magnitude.
I had finally found a form of gambling even I balked at.
I'll come clean and say it, I'm a compulsive gambler. I've had an enduring fixation on Lady Luck as early as I can remember. As a child, I loved making bets - even small and petty ones - with my peers.
When I was eighteen, and had my first job, I squandered a bigger portion of my very first paycheck than I care to admit on scratch-off lottery tickets.
With my addictive proclivities, I ignored the glaring net financial loss that this incurred, instead gravitating to the mere twenty dollars I did win with those tickets.
Now you can tell me that my gambling winnings are heavily outweighed by my losses over the years, and you'd be right. It's a stubborn fact that cannot be truthfully denied.
But it didn't matter to me. I was addicted to gambling. I was always convinced that the big, life-changing win I needed was right around the corner. It is this lifelong habit that has not only brought about a life of financial strain, but which, I fear, has brought about my imminent appointment with my own mortality.
You see, my gambling problem reached its zenith last year after I cajoled one of my poker friends, Dallas, into taking me to a secretive and high-stakes casino that he frequently spoke of, and this is as good a place as any to begin telling what happened.
"So, is this the night you're finally going to accede and tell me more about the mythical 'high stakes venue' you claim to frequent, Mr. Big Shot?" I asked my friend Dallas.
Dallas was a pro at gambling. At least, he swept the floor with the competition nine times out of ten and the backroom card games we frequented.
Dallas groaned loudly in the passager seat.
"Come on bro," I said doggedly, "you can't just set something up on a pedestal like this and not expect someone to persist."
"I don't know man. This isn't kitty shit. This is the big leagues." Dallas answered.
"I'm not a lightweight." I objected.
"No...but this is way more than anything we'd ever bet back there," he said, referring to our backroom games, one of which we had just left.
"This is the real shit. Hard-fucking-core. This is the most hardcore gambling around." Dallas continued.
"Like what, Russian Roulette?" I joked.
"Nah man." Dallas said cryptically.
"Look man, I give you rides to these games every week. You owe me." I was getting seriously annoyed at his reticence.
"Fine," Dallas groaned, exasperated.
I couldn't believe it. I had actually worn him down!
"But I'm warning you. This is serious shit." Dallas said sternly.
"I want to go." I said firmly.
Dallas reached into his wallet and handed me a medallion.
Upon inspection, I saw one side was affixed with the design of an ornate, bejeweled chalice with the words 'Holy Grail Casino' written above it. On the other side, written in elegant calligraphy was the phrase 'omnem marmora' - "all the marbles" in Latin.
This certainly bore the look of a ritzy and exclusionary place. I had a feeling I'd either win the jackpot of jackpots or end up homeless on the street. The reality would prove much worse than the latter.
Dallas was looking at me oddly, almost as if he was worried. But he could tell he wasn't going to be able to talk me out of it. I still hate him for his acquiescence to my pestering.
"When can we go?" I asked excitedly.
"I was planning to go tomorrow-," Dallas started.
"When I should I pick you up?" I interrupted.
"That's...not how we get there." Dallas answered.
"What-," I started, but it was Dallas' turn to interrupt.
"When you go to bed tomorrow night, write your full name on a piece of paper, then put it and the medallion in your pocket when you go to sleep."
I looked at him incredulously. Had he been fucking with me this whole time?
"Look...just trust me. Either do it or don't, but that's how you get there." Dallas said matter-of-factly.
I looked silently at the road as we neared the place where Dallas lived. Dallas seemed to be pensively looking out the window, as if he was debating whether or not he should have give me the medallion.
I dropped Dallas off without a word and raced home. I don't know why I was such a hurry - I guess I wanted to start waiting for tomorrow night as soon as possible.
After a torturous day of waiting, the next night finally came. Remembering Dallas' instructions, I wrote my full name on a slip of paper and placed it, along with the medallion, in the pockets of my sweatpants that I was wearing to bed for that purpose.
I could have sworn that I had heard my name being chanted as I drifted off to sleep, but the authenticity of those sounds is still ambiguous. What is not ambiguous is the fact that, shortly after falling asleep, I found myself in an opulent red-carpeted casino.
I was in a lobby of sorts, at least I think that's what it was. I was in a large, marble room with Greco-Roman style columns flanking a plush red carpet that led to two magnificent ebony doors, which boasted intricately carved ivory handles.
As I was soaking in the amazing luxurious sight, a man in a suit briskly approached me.
"You can't go to the floor dressed like that!" He admonished me, pointing to my sweatpants and white t-shirt.
"I'm sorry-," I began sluggishly, a bit confused by everything. Was I honestly expected to go to bed in a suit in order to gamble here?
"No worries sir," the man had a rather upper class accent, "we will get you outfitted here free of charge."
A short while later I was sporting a fine burgundy suit, a white dress shirt, and black loafers, and being led by the casino worker back to those grandiose doors. He stopped in front of them, held one of the doors open, and ushered me in.
"Enjoy your stay sir," he said as he closed the door behind me.
I took in the even more impressive sight that was the gambling floor. I stood at the top of a red-carpeted staircase with gilded railing, looking down at a large room. On the far end, the words 'Holy Grail Casino' were displayed prominently on the wall, illuminated by spotlights.
Like the lobby, a red carpet ran through the center, bisecting the impressive layout of games and tables. Interestingly, there didn't appear to be any slot machines- there seemed to be exclusively traditional games. Poker tables, blackjack tables, roulette wheels, and craps tables I all recognized.
Finally, I descended the stairs. The patrons and staff paid me little attention as I set foot on the floor. I briefly scanned the floor for Dallas but saw no saw no sign of him.
I shrugged and decided to jump into the games. All around me, finely dressed patrons were engrossed in their games, and others stood to the side, nursing cocktail glasses or puffing on cigars.
I had never had much of an affinity for roulette or craps, and I avoided blackjack like the plague (it's definitely rigged for the house). Accordingly, I quickly settled on poker.
After eyeing several tables I settled on a table occupied by just one patron - an uninterested old man in a black suit.
"Can I join here?" I asked.
The dealer replied affirmatively.
I sat down and noticed there were no chips in sight. I thought it had been odd that I hadn't received any, but I had just figured they would be given at the table. Curious, I asked.
"First time?" The dealer raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
The old man sighed, annoyed. What the hell? Shouldn't a patron at such a purportedly high-stakes venue be eager to have fresh meat?
"Well, the rules state that one's first game is one round of betting only." The dealer said in a monotone voice. No wonder old man was annoyed.
I nodded and sat down.
"But the chips-," I began to inquire.
"We don't use 'em here." The old man spoke for the first time.
Before I ask what we did use, the old man placed what would apparently be the sole bet of this hand: a finger.
Had I heard him right? He couldn't actually mean-
"Bet is one finger." The dealer said, interrupting my thoughts.
As I stated in the beginning, I assumed that 'a finger' was being used in the same figurative context that one often uses the term 'an arm and a leg.' I called the bet.
The cards were dealt, and I felt confident as I laid out the King-high flush I spoke of in the beginning. But then came the old man's ace-high flush, and then came the chop.
I screamed. To my shock, none of the other patrons even looked up from their games at the sound of my screams and the chop. Was this an ordinary occurrence?
Before I could get up from the table, the dealer also procured some sort of ointment and quickly dabbed some on the nub where my finger had been. The bleeding instantly stopped, and the pain eased, but I was having none of it. I got up from the table and began to run back to the doors. This was too much. I had to get out of here.
I heard a despaired howl coming from the direction of the roulette wheels as I made it back to the center of the floor, but didn't dare look back at the source. I stepped onto the carpet and set for the stairs when I nearly collided with Dallas.
"Hey you made it!" He said. "Oooh tough break with the finger," he indicated my hand.
"How have you never lost anything?!" I asked pointedly, barely resisting the urge to shake his shoulders.
"Well I have," Dallas smirked.
"You-you have all your digits." I sputtered.
"Well that's cause I won them back." He said.
"You can win them back?!" I was in disbelief.
"Of course, they'll reattach it if you win one."
I should have just cut my losses. I shouldn't have been swayed by temptation. But if you know the rabbit hole that is gambling, you'll know how much people put themselves in the hole vainly trying to win back a negligible loss, all the while turning that negligible loss into something substantial.
I was still weighing my options (stay or quit while still ahead) when a booming voice disrupted my deliberation.
"Attention floor! We have a class ten loser! Death!"
He couldn't actually mean-
Before I could make any kind of move, the patrons become a mob, and the wave people pushed Dallas and I to the center with them.
A man, who I noticed was already missing an arm, was on his knees sobbing. An emotionless casino dealer stood before him, holding a sword.
"Everyone c-cut y-your loss-losses," the man stuttered through sobs.
Before he could say anything else, the sobs were cut off by the slice of the sword, and the poor man's head hit the floor and tumbled, landing at my feet.
submitted by Clarkinator69 to nosleep [link] [comments]

The best uses for a deck of cards / Playing games worth playing in these times

It is a horrible time for the world, but a good time for games. As it is an expensive and space consuming hobby, I know many of us don’t have access to everything we’d like to play. Over a few years I researched for myself the best uses of a deck of cards – easily portable, easier to get people to the table (oh yes! I play cards!), usually available. It seems like the right time to share the results.
I’ve organized the below into both frame of mind (I want to Think, I want to Pass Time, I want to Laugh) and player count. Player count is focused on who you have – I didn’t put games necessarily where they are best, but rather “if I have four people, what is my best option?”
A brief calibration: I still have my 1995 first edition of Settlers of Catan. I’ve got roughly 80 games in my basement curated from the last 25 years and know the rules to twice that number. My favorite games are Tigris & Euphrates and Race for the Galaxy. This isn’t boasting (certainly not around here) - it is meant to be context so when I say these are games “worth playing” you have a better sense of what that means.
Links to rules. Hope this is helpful.
When you want to think:
For 2:
· Khmer (2 players): Khmer begins as a math and probability game, but quickly evolves into the psychology space and bluffing as you and your opponent learn the game. It gets better with more play, as it has room for different metagames and strategies, and the winner will be the one who remains one step ahead. In essence, you are trying to move cards between your hand and the table such that your total is MORE than your opponent, but LESS than the table – and you are rarely sure what your opponent is holding. The deck requires six 6’s – we use face cards for the 6’s and A-5 for the 1-5.
· Dibs (2-3 players): This is also a psychological game, where you will win by predicting your opponent and staying one step ahead. The core conceit is simple, you each have an identical deck (1-13), you are bidding on another pool of cards (worth face value), and high cards win. The twist comes because you have to use your entire deck of 1-13 to bid, and you can’t win everything. The game is more commonly known as GOPS or Psychological Jiujitsu, but I feel those names are both bad and inaccurate, so we’ve adopted this name instead.
For 3:
· Fight the Landlord (3 players): This is the best 3-player version of the “Big 2” family of games from East Asia. Big 2, or climbing games, are a race to empty your hand before your opponents. There is wide room in choosing what to play when, and how to break up your hand, meaning you will be making both difficult and important decisions throughout each and every round. Highly addictive, and good hand play will nearly always beat out a lucky deal.
The rules get a bit lengthy when it comes to what cards can be led, so you will either want to make a crib sheet or simplify the rules to mirror Tichu (below). The game will play just as well.
· 99) (2-4 players): Another trick-taking game (see note below) on my list. The mechanism for bidding in this game (in a nutshell, removing three cards from your hand) is simple, but introduces asymmetric, hidden information and requires you to make trade-off choices between your desired hand and your desired bid. This adds a bit of crunch to the model without making the game inaccessible to new or more casual players.
For 4:
· Scotch Bridge (Really 4 players, but can stretch to 3-6): Also known as Oh Hell, Pratt & Whitney, La Podrida, and others. This is a trick taking game, and I nearly universally dislike those (see note below), but it wins me over for two reasons. First, you aren't trying to win the most tricks but rather to value exactly the strength of your hand and then hit that bid - which means you are engaged in every single hand. Secondly, the handsize will range from 1 to 13, and each handsize meaningfully changes the feel of the game. 13 is a pure test of trick taking skill, 1 is a Mexican stand-off with your chips on the table, and 7 in the middle is a wild ride of big bets and lady luck.
As noted, this game has numerous variations. Most make little tweaks to the scoring, max handsize, and order of hands. In general, I prefer a positive form of scoring (10 for hitting your bid, 1 for each trick, penalty for how far you missed your bid, etc.) and playing hands from 1 to 13 and back again.
· Tichu (4 players): In my opinion, the best of the Big 2/climbing games. Same as Fight the Landlord, the goal of the game is to be the first to empty your hand, but it requires skillful play in knowing when to play, when to pass, and what to lead. You can never go on autopilot in this game. Tichu is played in 2 vs. 2 partnership and has elegant rules for scoring, both of which make this one of my favorite games of all time.
A note on the game – It is technically designed and published by a Swiss designer. However, if you research it, he played more the role of an editocurator, (quite masterfully) going through regional variants of Big 2, compiling the best, pulling in some scoring rules from other games, and polishing it all into the glistening pearl it is.
A note on the deck - it requires four jokers. You have three options 1) Find two decks with the same backs and mark up the jokers 2) Equally mix two decks so there is an even mix of two card backs, again including and marking up all four jokers, 3) Removing the jokers and using the four 2’s as the jokers, with a crib sheet in the middle of the table mapping the four suits to the jokers. Or you can buy a Tichu deck.
5-6 Players
· Fossil (4-8 player): This is an auction game using a deck of cards. Winning a bid will net you points but losing a bid will constrain your future options - as well as provide key information to your opponents. These decisions are the core drivers – what to set out for auction and when to throw down on someone else’s auction. In the end, the game is a mixture of psychology, strategy, and luck, leaving room both for clever play and for big moments when everyone groans and laughs around the table.
It can play 4-8, but plays best at 5-6. The first game or two generally feels casual and luck driven, but as the game clicks you may start seeing how you can influence the state of the table by choosing what to auction, or how the timing of your bid can win or lose you the hand. Like Khmer, this game grows on you over the first couple of games.
· Napoleon (5-6 Players): This is a Japanese trick-taking (see note below) game. What makes it stand out is the hidden role. Each player bids individually, then the winner (Napoleon) declares a Secretary card. Whoever is holding this card is secretly on Napoleon’s team, unbeknownst to everyone (including Napoleon). This leads to bluffing and deduction during play, with players uncertain about when to win a trick and when to ditch their low cards. It’s an excellent knife twist in the side or what is too often a rote playing-out-of-hands in standard trick taking, and it creates a social environment ripe for discussion and laughter at the end of each hand.
Napoleon is very similar to Briscola Chiamata, but in my opinion plays better as it removes some unnecessary complications from that latter game. It also draws comparisons to Schafkopf/Sheepshead, but again I think this one does it better.
· Skull & Roses (4-8 players): This is a pure bluffing game – think Poker without hands, only you, your opponents, and your wits. If that doesn’t capture it for you, just accept that this is amazing. You all place cards on the table until someone starts bidding, then it’s a gamble for who thinks they can flip the most cards without revealing a skull. The tension comes because, if you win the bid, you have to flip ALL of your own cards - so if you’ve played a skull, you lose. But, if you play all roses, you’re making it easy on your opponents. Choose wisely when you want to bid to win, and when you want to bid to entrap your opponents.
The game is usually played with coasters, but just as easily you can give each player one face card as their Skull and three numbered cards as their Roses. Or mark up any stack of two sided, identical objects in your house – I’ve heard of people playing with sweetener packets at Denny’s.
1) A note on trick-taking:
I don’t like it. Pure trick-taking – think Vanilla Whist – is not devoid of skill, but it IS quickly masterable and rarely surprising. A set of skilled players will play the same hand the same way every time, can guess the outcome before play even begins, and state it with certainty after 2-3 hands have revealed voids or singletons.
Most trick taking games, therefore, overlay something else to add interest. Things like complex bidding (Bridge, Skat) make the games inaccessible to new players, and turn them into objects of study more than play. Things like small hand sizes (Pitch, Euchre) throw the game into heavy luck, and often throw you into the backseat, passively throwing cards on the table until you are dealt a hand worth playing. This is fine to keep your hands busy while you drink, but isn’t what I look for when Gaming (with a capital G).
Nonetheless, I’ve included four trick-takers. My criteria are straightforward:
  1. You have to be able to bid and play whatever hand you get. Games like Spades and Scottish Bridge don’t ask you win as much as you can, but rather to exactly value your hand. Playing a bad hand can be just as engaging and difficult as playing a good hand.
  2. They need a single, straightforward twist to add interest. Napoleon adds a hidden role and uncertain partnerships. 99 asks you to secretly remove cards from the game, manipulating suit length, while trying to deduce what your opponents have removed. Hearts asks you to consider and risk when to win a trick and when to lose. These all give you something to think about throughout the game, sometimes require you to shift tactics midgame, and don’t require a course of study to properly learn (I’m looking at you, Bridge).
I anticipate the comments will contain passionate counter-arguments. So play and make up your own mind. I’ve played a lot and am now offering the best advice I can.
When you want to chat and pass time:
None of these games are chutes and ladders. But they do offer more luck and simpler decisions, for the most part, allowing you to while away hours and spend as much time talking to your opponent as you do thinking about the table.
2 Players
· Cribbage (2-4 players): Cribbage plays out in two acts. You and your opponent(s) lay cards on the table, trying to hit or avoid certain sums, with a few bonuses for creating pairs or runs. Then you look at your hand (and the crib) to make combinations worth points. There’s a bit of a list to remember, for what scores you points, but with that mastered the game settles into an easy rhythm of regular dopamine hits and little pegs on a board. Hitting 15 and hunting for your melds is utterly enjoyable. This is the perfect game to crack open a bottle of something together and seamlessly move back and forth between chat and play.
· Spite & Malice (2-4 players): This game feels like Spit - without the frantic pace, slapped hands, and bent cards. It’s also like multiplayer solitaire, except reverse to how that term is usually used. The rules are built on real solitaire, but you will be very much intertwined with your opponents. Hence the spite, and the resulting malice. I know couples who play this frequently, keeping a running score for the entire year.
3 Players
· Shed / Palace (3-5 players): This game goes by many names, not all of them polite. I was taught it as “Screaming Yoda” and it was over twenty years before I learned that the game was known worldwide by other names.
Anyway, Shed is a race to get rid of all your cards. Instead of a winner, there is one loser (the last one). The rules for playing cards are simple, and sometimes you’ll be forced to pick up 20 cards all at once. But it’s fine, everything’s fine. You’ll get it back.
The game plays out in multiple acts and often swings back and forth, lending it excitement and perpetual hope. Not overly strategic, but engaging and fun from start to end.
4 Players
· Canasta (4 players): The Archetypal Argentinian game. Canasta is an ageless, breezy, push your luck game of set collection and making odd faces at your partner across the table, trying to read their mind without communicating ("May I go out?" "No." "G****n you what a f**** mess why didn't you play your Canasta before.")
It feels a bit like Rummy, as you are drawing and discarding to collect sets of cards with your partner, and trying to out-collect your opponents. However, the team dynamic, the scoring rules, the wild cards, and the end-game make this an entirely different animal.
The game has a frustrating amount of rules – though they are all simple, the sheer number means some time to learn and then time to familiarize/memorize. As is the way with most longstanding, cultural games. Nothing that a crib sheet and a few run-throughs can’t solve.
· Cuarenta (4 players): Now hop over to Ecuador, and this is the national game. The central conceit is much simpler than Canasta – play one card onto the table, trying to capture the cards already on the table by creating matches or runs. But, as with Canasta, there is then a laundry list of footnotes to be memorized with edge cases and scoring.
That said, once digested, the game is simple, breezy, and endlessly entertaining. You’ll do better if you can calculate odds and count cards, but at the same time you can still enjoy yourself (and still win) by just playing your cards and sipping your drink.
· Hearts & Spades (4 players): As mentioned, I’m generally not a fan of trick taking (see note above). I include these because they don’t overinflate themselves. They know they are simple trick-taking games, they add a touch of spice for interest, and just leave it at that. The result in both cases is a pleasant way to pass the time.
For Hearts, the good bit is the shifting winds, trying to decide at each point when you are trying to win and when you are trying to lose. Each hand is a puzzle, how to throw your hearts at other people, how to win those tricks with your high cards at the right time, etc.
For Spades, the central challenge is in correctly valuing your hand, then playing to hit that value. Keep in mind that others may start tanking their own tricks to hit their bid, which makes the ground under your own feet increasingly unstable. Depending on how the cards come out, you may find yourself scrabbling for just one more trick, or suddenly shifting to trying to lose because someone had an unexpected void – it’s that agility that comes from the shifting landscape and the fact that every hand is a chance to play THAT hand that makes Spades a game worth playing.
When you want to Laugh and have fun:
Sometimes you want to laugh more than you want to win. Sometimes you just want to have fun, without taking on any stress. These are those games.
2 Players
· Cabo) (2-4 players): This plays better at 3-4 but is the only one I’ve found for the bucket that does work for 2. At it’s core, it is a bit of memory, luck, and playing the odds – you are swapping facedown cards around the table, but you don’t get to look at all your cards. So you need to figure out what you have, what your opponents have, and choose the moment to strike - when you think you have the lowest hidden total.
Cabo is a relatively modern game, but even so there are a handful of different origin stories and many minor rules variations. Play one set of rules to start and, if you like it, you can check out all the possibilities and stick with your favorite.
3 Players
· Ricochet Poker (3-8 players): It’s a light betting game – can play with quarters or crackers, whatever you like. The game is simple and draws from poker rules. Each round you get one more card and have to decide whether you want to pay to stay in or fold. It’s more accessible than poker, so is easy to “wing it,” but you still get the agony and thrills that come from winning or losing the pot.
· Manipulation Rummy (2-4 players): If you are familiar with Rummikub, this is that game exactly but with two decks of cards (instead of tiles). If you aren’t – this builds on the foundation of Rummy, but all melds are played onto the table. Where it shines is the fact that you can break, reform, and rearrange ALL the cards on the table on your turn, in order to find a place for more cards from your hand. The joy is in hunting for that one opportunity on the table so you can wow everyone when it comes to your turn.
4 Players
· Cockroach Poker (3-6 players): This is properly a game that should be purchased, but in these times you can make a deck using two decks of cards – 8 each of 8 numbers (I recommend A, K, Q, J, 7, 8, 2, 3… it’s a cognitive psychology thing, just humor me). You’ll be passing cards facedown around the table, asserting (truthfully or falsely) what the card is. The game is in correctly guessing when someone is lying or telling the truth, as well as in the politics of not being the last person at the table to receive a card (after everyone else has already seen it). Every time you lose a challenge, the card goes face up in front of you. Collect too many cards, and it’s game over. This one is amazing.
5-6 Players
· Eleusis (4-8 players): I originally learned this as “Delphi,” a streamlined version that is more appropriate for kids. This version has more teeth to it and should delight all ages. One player takes on the role of god (think Zeus) and secretly writes down a law that all cards played must follow. All the other players must then, by trial and error, figure out that law and get rid of their cards. This is harder than it sounds. What makes it work is that Eleusis has a number of scoring rules that put balance into the game – you want the rule to be hard but not too hard, etc.
This game will earn many rounds of play. What is nice is it also has a co-op feel. Yes, you are all trying to be the first to guess and play your cards, but on the other hand you are all in it together trying to decipher the divine law you’ve been given.
submitted by MurphMurp to boardgames [link] [comments]

[Shattered Helix] - ‌1.07 ‌-‌ All That Work for Chits

~‌ ‌1.07 ‌-‌ All That Work for Chits ‌~‌
Kyle’s Apartment
Wednesday, June 11th
Opening his eyes, Kyle looked over at his alarm clock. The time was 7:14 in the morning. He had been in the game for a little over five hours this time. The teen got up and went to the bathroom to take care of his needs, then made a trip to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Sitting down on the couch, he brought up a web browser on his augmented vision. Checking his favorite gaming news sites, he saw Massively OP already had a handful of articles about Fantasy. The top article talked about how Fantasy with the new Neurolink implant combined to create the first true digital world with all senses intact.
The writer wrote how he and another player became buddies with one of the town's guards and was able to find a hidden quest for him which didn’t show in their logs. They also became great friends with the guard and had pints of ale with him later that day. The author of the article went on to say he was able to talk to the guard about any subject. The guard responded and gave opinions on almost everything they talked about, like he was a real person with his own thoughts. The author’s main point about his first day playing was that the new AI systems that controlled each NPC was extraordinary.
He pulled up his email to see if Iron or Elen had gotten his contact details from Sinn3r and found nothing in his inbox. Checking on some other sites produced more of the same. Everyone was in love with the game, and people were foaming at the mouth to get their chance. The second batch of users were slated to start playing early next week with the Delve Neurolink. Kyle had figured most would start playing Fantasy with the capsules until they could upgrade their implants, but a few articles told players who wished to play with the implant to hold off on starting but didn’t give the reasons why. He sent an email to his Uncle William, letting him know how the game was and that he would be incognito for most of the summer playing Fantasy.
Finishing up on checking a few more sites and drinking his water bottle, Kyle closed out his augmented tabs in his vision and went back to bed.
“Initiate Delve.”
[Delve Initializing]
Kyle found himself flying through the stars at warp speed once again for a few moments before materializing on the back terrace of his house in his MicroWorld.
“Hey, Bob, can you make me the same Gnome as Flea in Fantasy here as well? The perspective shift is a bit hard to get used to.”
Kyle found himself shrinking down to his gnome avatar without Bob saying anything.
“Thank you, Bob.”
Now a Gnome, Kyle walked to the pavilion and by opening the door to Fantasy logged in.
The Drunken Ogre
2nd Spirtday of The Full Moon
Getting up from his bed in the inn, Flea grabbed everything out of the chest and made his way downstairs. A few players were still hanging around, chatting and drinking in the common room. The Gnome made his way outside and headed towards the town’s North Gate. He noticed a different guard stationed there, nodded to him as he left the town. He could only make out a few players farming the rabbits this late at night, as he got closer to the yellow fields.
Walking through the field with his daggers in hand, he made sure to be on the lookout for any rabbit trying to surprise him. Making it to the tree line, he started looking for the Hollyhock he needed. It was then Flea realized a considerable problem; he couldn’t make out shit in the dark.
How are the other players able to see the rabbits well enough to farm them?
Catching one of the players in his sight, he was able to see the player and cursed. He was an Elf, so he assumed he had some type of night vision that helped them farm at night. Flea decided to go back up to the gate and asked the guard if he had an extra torch lying around.
“Too dark for you little one?” the guard asked as Flea got closer.
“Got it in one!” Flea smirked. “Any chance you have any extra torches lying around?
“Sure, we got a ton of them in the shed over near the wall left of the gate. You can take one or two; each will last you all night.”
“Thank you. During the night, is there anything else I should worry about?”
“I’d stay away from the forest at night, as the terrorbears come out in full force. Without a small hunting party, they will rip most people to shreds. Your best bet would head to the mines near the lake at night and mine. There is silver in the mountain, and the runoff has deposited plenty of silver into the lake over the ages, keeping monsters far from its shores.”
“That's what I’ll do then. You know where I can get a pickaxe?”
“You’ll probably find them all over the mines, they are bulky, and no one wants to waste a space inside their bags to store a basic one, so they usually leave them at the entrances.”
“Didn’t even think of that. You’ve been a huge help. Thank you. I’m Flea. Is there anything I could help you with to repay the favor?” Flea asked, hoping to try and buddy up with the guard.
“No problem, Flea, I’m Telen. If you happen to find any extra silver, I could use a couple of chunks. I’m an apprentice Jewelsmith, but silver is hard to come by. Making rings out of iron doesn’t help when you need to learn to work with higher-grade materials.”
“If I happen to find any silver, I’ll think of you first, Telen. I’m off. Thanks again for the info and torches.”
Flea walked over to the shed, opening it. Inside he found barrels with tons of torches in them. Grabbing one, he found the torches’ head was soaking underneath the water at the barrel’s bottom. Taking the torch, he whipped it towards the ground a few times to get the water off the head. Walking over to a torch on the wall, Flea lit it. For the second time that night, he headed out the gate and down the hill. Getting to the bottom, he took a left from the path and headed away from the fields and towards the lake.
It took Flea well over thirty minutes to reach the shore of the lake. Skirting around the lake to the left, he started his trot towards the ridge in the distance. Getting closer, Flea could make out a couple of cave entrances in the distance with warm glows of a torch in them. Flea assumed these caves had players inside already mining.
Walking for a couple more minutes, Flea found himself near the ridge. Walking to his right and keeping the rise to his left, he started looking for one of the mine entrances. It didn’t take long before Flea found one thirty feet ahead of where he had been. Entering the shaft, he looked around but couldn’t find any pickaxes. Checking the next five mines provided nothing as well. He found a couple of pickaxes inside the seventh mine. Grabbing the smallest one, he walked deeper into the mine.
The entire mine shaft looked the same to him. Flea couldn't make out any veins or discolored chunks on the wall. He spent a large amount of time going down the mine shaft and back up to the entrance and not finding anything. He assumed it was just an empty mine. Deciding to go into one of the caves with the glow of a torch at the entrance and hoping to find a player. Upon entering the first lit up entrance, he found a player with a race he was not expecting. A single dark-green goblin with huge pointy ears was cursing up a storm and slamming his pickaxe against the wall over and over.
“Hello?”
“Oie, what's your problem, you bloody cunt?” The goblin shouted out in fright as he jumped back deeper into the mine.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to figure out how to mine. I couldn’t see any iron or veins on the wall to mine in the shafts I’ve checked. I figured I'd come to ask another player if they had any luck. Also, why in the hell a Goblin?”
“No worries, just scare easily at my age. I’ve always chosen a Goblin for my characters. I always end up playing some type of tinker or engineer and wanted to keep it going. I’m Khorwin, by the way, and to answer your question about mining. I’m having a fuck all time myself. I’ve been in almost all of these tunnels, and I’ve yet to find any type of metal anywhere in the first couple hundred feet of the entrance. I’m just randomly digging to see what it gets me.”
“Names Flea, and that's what I’d have done too. Want to share the tunnel and try and figure this out?”
“That sounds like a splendid plan. Let’s go deeper down the cave then. I didn’t want to adventure and travel deeper going solo. It’s rather spooky. I swore I heard low moans coming from deeper down, but with the two of us, it shouldn’t be too bad.”
Khorwin grabbed his torch, pulling it out of the crack he had wedged it into, and they headed off deeper into the cave. They traveled in silence for what seemed like an hour before they found the first hint of what they were looking for, spotting small red flecks among the walls of the shaft. Five minutes later, they came across a sizable reddish-brown vein within the rock low to the ground.
“Well, it seems the mine was bare till here. At Least the vein is lower to the ground for us,” said Khorwin.
He then jammed his torch into a crack on the wall to the right of the iron vein.
“Put yours somewhere to the left, and we should have plenty of light to start digging. Let's just mine out the vein till it’s gone, and we can split it up then.”
Flea followed suit and stuck his torch into the rock face to his left. Grabbing the pickaxe out of his inventory, he started to swing and strike at the vein. The two of them got into a rhythm, hammering away at the vein until nothing was left within the cave wall.
“I'd say we got a pretty good haul even after the split,” Khorwin said.
Flea wiped the sweat off his brow and sat down.
“How the hell aren’t you dying right now. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.”
“Ah got two points in strength already. I got lucky with the rabbits yesterday and was able to get eight cores. With how much mining I plan on doing in the future, I figured it would help out.”
They took their time sorting through the chunks of rock and iron. After finishing up, each had forty-two pieces of iron. They agreed to head deeper into the mine to find more veins so they could sell it in the morning. The duo found two medium iron veins and a small silver vein through the night. When they finally left the cave the next morning, they had a hundred and ten chunks of iron and thirteen chunks of silver each.
“Thanks for the help man, this should make me enough money to pay for some more training. I’ll be up for more mining tonight if you’re available, man. If you need me, you can leave a message at The Drunken Ogre. That’s the inn I’m currently staying at,” Flea said.
“Oh, you bet your bollocks, I’ll take you up on that. These mines are bloody scary as shit when you're by yourself. The guard at the gate said they were safe at all times of the night, but are they really safe if we keep going deeper? I'd rather have someone with me. Want to meet back here at sunset?”
“Sounds good to me. I can finish my first three Adventurers’ Guild quests today. I’ll meet you back here at sunset then, glad I ran into you. I would have had a terrible night trying to find the iron by myself. See you tonight, Khorwin.”
Flea walked towards the forest to start looking for the Hollyhock he needed. In the morning sunlight, he was able to spot them easily in the shade of the larger trees. Two hours later, the morning’s three bells rang. He decided to stop gathering and head to the fields to fill his bag with rabbits. On the way to the fields outside town, he checked his magic bag.
Magic Bag: 11/20
Noto Spawn Crystal Starter Daggers Travel Rations: 5 Canteen: Water Rabbit Hide: 32
Rabbit Horn: 32 Noto Island Map Iron Ore: 100 Iron Ore: 10 Silver Ore: 13
Hollyhock: 31
​ 2c
Nine inventory spots were still open. He decided to kill rabbits and then turn in his three quests.
Flea found Gronky at The Pit and gave him ten new rabbits. He had the nine in his bag and carried a tenth he had killed when he pulled one off a train-runner, deciding to just take the body with him. Flea asked Gronky if he knew where he could find Krem and The Silver Pestle. Krem was easy to find as the tannery’s stench sat right at home near The Pit and wasn't more than a hundred yards from where they were standing. He turned in his thirty hides for a sad 60 copper and the extra two hides for another four copper. He was also given a blue ceramic chit that looked like a poker chip. The chit had Copper printed on both sides that shined with a greenish metallic color.
Gronky’s directions to The Silver Pestle let Flea find it with relative ease. Entering the shop he was assaulted with the heavy scent of pine, with a hint of lavender. The smell brought back an old memory of him and his family on vacation at a cabin on a lake surrounded by the forest. His family used to go there twice a summer for as far as he could remember.
“Welcome, how may Silverfang help you today?” a small female Wolf Beastkin asked him, breaking him out of the memory.
“Hello Silverfang, I have your Hollyhock as per your request. I also have eleven more Hollyhock I wish to sell as well.”
“Welcome young adventurer; thank you for fulfilling our request. We would be happy to buy all the Hollyhock you can gather in any quantities you can obtain. Sadly per the Guild’s rules, I can only give you the quest chit once a day. We will buy each Hollyhock from you at three copper each for a total of 93 coppers, adventurer. Is there anything else you may be interested in selling or purchasing?” Silverfang replied.
“Do you have any useful poisons for daggers? Also, do you buy these rabbit horns?”
“I have a few vials of paralyzing poison for sale at 20 copper each. We’ll also buy the horns from you at one copper each.”
“Alright, I’d like to buy two vials of the paralyzing poison, and I have thirty-two horns on me for sale.”
“Your total is 85 copper. We will buy the Hollyhock for 93 copper. 32 copper for the rabbit horns. Your cost will be 40 copper for the two paralyzing poison vials. Silverfang has had the pleasure of doing business with you.”
He was also handed another blue chit with his coins.
Flea was now 151 copper-rich. He asked the closest guard he could find where Blacksmith Grom could be found and was directed to the west wall. His smithy was the furthest away from the residents of the town.
I’m betting the hammering would drive anyone nuts.
He greeted the Dwarf he assumed was Grom, handed over his twenty iron ore request, and sold him the rest of his iron ore, netting him five silver and 50 copper. Flea quickly figured out 100 copper coins equaled a silver coin. Asking Grom about it revealed a hundred to one ratio; 100 silver to a gold coin, and 100 gold to a Royal coin. Finished with his three quests, he pulled up his journal.
Quest Journal
With the three quests finished, he decided to first wander around the town then head to the Adventurers’ Guild to see if they had any more quests. Taking some time to walk around the town and visit every shop, he introduced himself and browsed their wears. When he spied the time on the clock tower over the top of the buildings close by, he decided to head over to the Adventurers’ Guild, turn in his quest chits and see if new quests were on the boards.
submitted by Daphonic to redditserials [link] [comments]

We Are Coming For You – Part 4

Start|Previous Part| Next Part
Disembarking from their transport ship Artum strode forward with his arm wrapped around Asami’s waist and the other three humans following close behind them. Glancing down at the woman at his side Artum had to suppress a lustful growl. Instead of her usual casual attire Asami wore a dark red dress with a plunging neckline held up by thin straps which looped over her shoulders. The dress flowed down to her ankles and had a long slit on the right side almost up to her hip so that as she walked she would offer a glimpse of her pale, slender leg and the Draast leather boots she wore. When he asked where she had gotten the dress from she had simply smiled enigmatically at him and walked away leaving him wondering if all human women were as confounding as she was.
Noticing she was being watched Asami tilted her head up to look at him with a small smile. Her long black hair was pulled up and held in position by a long, metal hair stick giving him an unobstructed view of the nape of her neck and her pale back. Unable to resist any longer Artum leaned down and kissed her neck “You look ravishing my love.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” she grinned as she leaned against him and ran her hand over the hard leather of his duster. Feeling him squeeze her hip tightly Asami tutted “There’ll be time for that later.” she promised with a husky whisper prompting a soft growl to emanate from his throat.
As they reached the end of the hallway the doors parted and a group of armed aliens approached them with a single unarmed one at the centre wearing long flowing robes with sleeves long enough to cover it’s hands. Stepping away from the pack the alien wearing robes walked up to them and said “Pirate Lord Artum? It is my honour to welcome you to Epoch Station.” he said with a bow, his hands clasped together in front of him causing the long sleeves of his robe to droop down.
“Rather ceremonious for a bunch of pirates ain’t they?” Tucker mumbled from behind.
Either not hearing or choosing to ignore Tuckers remarks the alien said “I am Tradi, your attendant for the duration of the Summit. Should you require anything during your stay please to not hesitate to ask.” he said before looking passed Artum to the humans with him “Is this the entirety of your entourage?”
“That’s right.” Artum nodded.
“Very good. Now as I’m sure you’re aware Epoch Station is neutral territory and no weapons are allowed on board.”
“What do you call those?” Artum asked gesturing to the weapons brandished by Tradi’s escort.
“These men are under the employ of my Master; not one of your fellow Pirate Lords. They are here solely to ensure that civility reigns during the proceedings and as such we are required to search you men for weapons.”
“And if we don’t allow that?” Tucker asked as he folded his arms across his chest.
“Then you are free to leave.” Tradi replied smoothly. “You were invited here as a courtesy by my Master. If you do not wish to abide by his rules you may leave but do not expect to be included in discussions pertaining to the future of this system.”
“Get on with it.” Artum grunted with a dismissive wave of his hand. At a nod from Tradi several of his men walked forward and began to pat down Thatcher, Tucker and Vic confiscating several weapons from each of them.
“I’m gonna want a receipt for all of that.” Tucker said.
Seeing one of Tradi’s men approach Asami Artum moved to step between them and growled out “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I need to search her for weapons.” he replied.
“You will not lay a finger on my bride!” he snarled out in a low and dangerous voice as he stepped closer to loom over him “If anyone tries to touch her I’ll be adding a new coat to my wardrobe, understand?”
His bulbous eyes flicking down to Artums Draastrekian skin coat the alien swallowed hard and struggled to form words before Tradi cleared his throat. “I am sure we can make an exception for Lord Artum’s consort.” he said diplomatically. “Now, if you will follow me I will take you to the reception where the other Pirate Lords are awaiting your arrival.”
As Artum pulled Asami against him possessively and started to lead her passed the alien Asami to patted him on the shoulder “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’m going to endure a thorough pat down later on.” she smirked as they brushed passed him.
As the five of them trailed after Tradi Artum heard Thatcher say “I told you the coat sends a message.”
Letting out a grunt Artum replied “Any other words of advice you have for me?”
“Back on Earth we’ve got a saying.” Thatcher started.
“Of course you do.” Artum rolled his eyes “You Humans have a saying for every occasion.”
Ignoring the interruption Thatcher continued “It goes like this, ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far’.”
“And what is that suppose to mean?” Artum asked.
“It means when your adversaries can see you’ve got a weapon that you’re willing to use you don’t need to raise your voice to be heard.” Thatcher replied.
“And what weapon do I have that is a threat to the other Pirate Lords?” Artum asked.
“You’ve got four of them with you right now.” Asami smirked up at him. Unable to resist her smile Artum pulled her closer to him and started to affectionately stroke her flank.
Finally reaching their destination Tradi pushed open a large est of doors and announced “May I present the final attendee, Pirate Lord Artum and his entourage.”
Entering the room Artum found himself subject to the oppressive stares of the five other Pirate Lords and their lieutenants. Arranged in a loose approximation of a circle each Lord was sat at a table positioned equal distanced apart allowing enough room for their followers to stand behind them without the groups intruding in one another’s space. In comparison to the four man crew Artum travelled with each of the Pirate Lords had at least a dozen men at their backs.
As Artum moved to sit at the unoccupied table Tradi had a second chair brought out for Asami to sit in while Thatcher, Vic and Tucker took up positions behind them.
“You’re late.” One of the Pirate Lords clicked it’s mandibles together as he glared over at Artum with his large compound eyes “And you brought a whore with you. This is not a social gathering, we are here to discuss business.”
His eyes flicking towards Asami to see how she reacted to the insult Artum was relieved to find that she was apparently choosing to ignore the slight. Turning his attention back to the Lord who had admonished him Artum smiled and said “And here I thought this was an inauguration party to welcome me to your ranks.”
“You aren’t one of us.” another snapped “And whatever tricks you used to ingratiate yourself with Zaldi before you usurped him won’t work on us nor are we intimidated by simple theatrics so you can remove that distasteful coat of yours this instant.”
“I don’t think I will.” Artum growled back before reaching out to rest his hand on Asami’s thigh “You see my lover rather likes the look of it on me and I care far more about her opinion than yours.”
“You will take it off right now or I shall tear it from your corpse!” one of the lieutenants who was a Draastrekian hissed as he stepped forward, his lips curled up into a snarl to reveal his sharp fangs as the muscles in his thick arms bulged and rippled as if he was preparing to leap across the room.
Waving a hand dismissively Artum said “Control your pet, Tellou or I’ll have to put him down.”
Letting out an enraged roar the Draastrekian stormed over the table and charged towards Artum. As soon as he came close to the table Asami brought her foot up and placed it against the edge of the table and shoved it hard causing it to slam into the charging lizardman’s stomach knocking the wind out of him and left him sprawled across the table. Leaping to her feet Asami pulled the metal hair stick from her hair and stabbed it downwards towards his snout with enough force that it pierced through the thick scales on top of his nose. As she drove the sharp point through the roof of his mouth the spike impaled his tongue and continued through his lower jaw to stab into the table beneath.
Pinned to the table the Draastrekian flailed wildly as his scream of pain was muffled by his forcibly closed mouth. Reaching beneath her dress Asami withdrew two knives that had been strapped to her upper thigh. Grabbing hold of the creatures hands Asami held them to the table allowing her to drive the blades through his palms skewering him to the table rendering him completely immobile. “Draastrekians,” she announced loudly to the stunned onlookers as she held out a hand behind her “Have about nighty-eight teeth on average.” accepting a pair of pliers from Vic Asami yanked up the Lizards upper lip to expose his teeth. Gripping the longest fang with the pilers Asami gave a sharp pull tearing the tooth from his mouth with a scream “That’s one.” she announced as she held up the bloody tooth before dropping it to the table.
As Asami started to pull another one out one of the Pirate Lords recovered from his shock long enough to say “Enough of this Artum, call off your whore!”
“And that’s three.” Asami smiled as she yanked out a third tooth before pointing the bloodied pliers at the Pirate Lord who spoke “Call me a whore one more time...” she growled, allowing the threat to dangle in the air.
With a smile on his face Artum reached out to slip his hand through the slit in her dress and affectionately caress her thigh “That’s enough my love.” Looking over her shoulder at him Asami let out a dissatisfied grunt before turning back to the whimpering Draastrekian. Pulling free one of the blades that were pinning his hands to the table Asami drew her hand back and stabbed the knife down right between his eyes, the blade piercing his skull and penetrating it’s brain causing the Draastrekian to convulse violently as it died. Grasping it’s snout for leverage Asami yanked her hair stick out from his mouth with a grunt. Flicking the blood from it Asami deftly pulled up her hair and slipped the needle through it to hold it in place before moving to drape herself across Artum’s lap. Wrapping her arm around his shoulders Asami forced her lips against his.
Stroking her thigh as they kissed Artum looked passed his lover to see the other attendees staring at them. Hiding a smug smile against Asami’s lips Artum thought ‘That’s right, this is a human you’ve all heard so much about. They are as efficient and as brutal as the stories say they are. And the only four in this entire system work for me.’
“My, my, it seems the festivities have started without me.” a voice called out.
Breaking the kiss Artum and Asami turned to see a cowled figure had appeared at the other end of the room. “Who are you?” Artum growled out.
“Ah, forgive my rudeness, I am your host.” he said in an amused tone of voice as he reached up and pulled his hood down to reveal his face “You may call me Dàoguān.” The man had dark red skin with intricate black markings though it was hard to tell if they were tattoos or part of his natural colouring. His sunken, sallow eyes had black irises making them look like two dark pits against his yellow tinged sclera. Turning to address the room as a whole “It is good to see you all, new friends and old. We should get together more often.”
“We aren’t here to socialise Dàoguān. We’re here to deal with the traitor in our midst.” one of them said as he stared balefully over at two of the Pirate Lords in particular.
“I don’t know why you’re looking over here.” one of them spat out “These raids didn’t start until he took over from Zaldi.” he said as he pointed at Artum. “And he’s hardly suffered any attacks.”
“That’s because I am able to defend what’s mine.” Artum retorted “If you all require assistance I’ll be happy to provide escorts for your traders for a nominal fee.” he smirked making the other Lords bristle with anger and glare at him.
“Peace my friends.” Dàoguān said with a wave of his hand. “We have plenty of time to air your grievances. For now please follow my stewards to the quarters we have arranged for you and enjoy my hospitality.” he dismissed them.
Following after Tradi who led them to their lavish chambers the group found their luggage had been brought to their rooms ahead of them. Settling down around a table Artum looked to Thatcher and said “Well?”
Shaking his head Thatcher replied “He’s not a species I’ve ever encountered before. Vic?”
“Nothing that I can recall.” Vic replied.
“I assume you don’t know it either?” he asked Artum who shook his head. “In that case we can probably assume he’s not from a Union species. That makes things difficult.”
“Why should it matter?” Artum asked.
“Because the more we know about who we’re up against the better prepared we can be. If he was from a Union species we could have guessed who’s backing him, what kind of connections he could have. As it is he could be anyone.”
“What makes you think he has someone backing him?” Artum asked.
“Because you don’t just walk up to a bunch of pirate gangs and have a nice little chat with them unless you’ve got some serious clout. Would you have given him the time of day let alone gone along with his plan to overthrow the government and take over the whole of the system if he just turned up on your doorstep asking to see you?”
As Artum shook his head Tucker said with a frown “I think I know him.” seeing everyone turn to look at him Tucker quickly backtracked and said “Not ‘know him’ know him. I mean his species. I’m sure I’ve seen it somewhere before I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Choosing to ignore Tucker’s input Thatcher said “I think the best course of action is to do a little reconnaissance before we decide on our next move. We need to know where the other Pirate Lords are laying their heads, see if we can find an armoury or at least some kind of weaponry and see if we can scrounge up some kind of information on this Dàoguān character.” he decided. “Vic you’ll stay here and guard Artum and the rest of us will go exploring.”
“Why can’t Asami stay?” Artum complained with a frown.
“Because if someone tries to kill you it’s easier to protect you if you’re not on top of your bodyguard.” Tucker smirked.
“Sorry baby, we’ll have to have fun later.” Asami smiled as she kissed his cheek before slipping passed him “I’m going to slip into something a little more practical.” she said as she picked up her bag and carried it towards the bedroom.
Finding himself in one of the numerous bars dotted throughout the station Thatcher sat at the counter and ordered a drink. Accepting the drink from the bartender Thatcher took a sip when he heard a voice growl out “You need to come with us Human.”
Looking over his shoulder Thatcher saw two pirates standing behind him, one he recognised from their initial meeting with the Pirate Lords. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asked as he turned back around and took another gulp.
“Pirate Lord Yanko wants to see you.” the alien replied.
“So I’m just meant to follow the two of you to some secluded part of the station? I don’t think so. Tell this Yanko of yours that he wants to talk he can come here and see me.” Thatcher replied.
Roughly grabbing Thatcher’s shoulder the pirate glared and said “Firstly, you’ll show him the proper respect and refer to him by his title. Secondly, Lord Yanko is not at your beck and call. If he wants to see you, you’ll go to him.” he growled as he squeezed Thatcher’s shoulder.
Staring at the hand on his shoulder for a long moment before shrugging it off Thatcher looked to the other alien who was standing nervously to the side “You’re friend here wasn’t at the welcome party was he?” seeing him gulp and shake his head Thatcher turned away and picked up his glass again “You might want to tell him what he’s getting into.”
“Listen here-!” he started as he grabbed Thatcher by the wrist only to cry out when Thatcher’s free hand shot out to grab his wrist and twisted it painfully. With his now unrestrained hand Thatcher reached back to grab the alien by the back of his head and slammed his face against the bar. Getting to his feet Thatcher kicked him in the back of his knees forcing him to kneel making his face scrape down against the side of the bar leaving a streak of blood against it while keeping him restrained by pulling his arm back at an uncomfortable angle. “Now then, since you’re obviously ill-informed and you didn’t spill my drink I’m willing to let this end with just this much, what do you say?”
“I’ll kill you, you bastard!” the alien snarled as blood bubbled from it’s broken nose and it tried unsuccessfully to squirm out of Thatchers arm lock.
“I want you to remember that I gave you the opportunity to walk away.” Thatcher sighed as he grabbed hold of one of the aliens fingers and summarily broke it. As the alien let out a scream he thrashed around violently trying to free his arm from Thatchers grasp but his every movement felt like his was going to pull the arm from it’s socket. As Thatcher grasped a second finger and started to bend it backwards he said “Now I’m sure your friend here is going to tell you later just how lucky you are that you picked a fight with me and not my companion.” he said as he broke the second digit making him wail in pain. “But I want to impress upon you just how badly you fucked up.” he said as he grabbed hold of a third finger.
“N-No, Stop! Please I beg you!” the alien pleaded pitifully as Thatcher snapped another one.
“You see compared to some humans I could name, I’m a veritable font of forgiveness which I why I’m not going to kill you. I don’t particularly enjoy inflicting pain on another living thing but sometimes in life you have to do things you don’t like doing to ensure that a message is sent.” he punctuated this with another break leaving the pirate sobbing in pain. “So I want you to understand that you only get one warning and this is it.”
“I understand! I’m Sorry! Please Stop!” he begged.
“I’m glad we could come to an understanding.” Thatcher smiled pleasantly. “It’s a shame it took until your last finger for it to sink in. Oh well, might as well do this one for good measure.” he said as he grasped the final digit.
“Nooo!” the alien howled desperately “I’m Sorry! Please, I Understand, I Get the Message!”
“I’m afraid you don’t.” Thatcher said with a shake of his head “You see the pain I’m inflicting on you right now is the message for you. The sight of your twisted, deformed claw is going to be the message to anyone else who thinks it’s a good idea to lay a hand on a human. If in the future you hear someone has the bright idea to fuck with the human race I want you to shove your hand in their face and tell them how lucky you were to walk away with only one crippled hand after daring to touch a human. Which means I’m going to have to finish what I started, understand?”
“I...I understand...” he whimpered pitifully in defeat.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Thatcher smiled down at him. “And since you’re being so cooperative I’m going to give you the choice of what I do to this last finger. I can either break it like all the others or I can cut it off.” Seeing his eyes widen in terror Thatcher said “Personally I’d go with a break. If you get it set quickly enough who knows, maybe you’ll eventually regain some use. On the other hand, if you’ll pardon the pun, all I have is a pair of pliers to remove your finger so it’d be more tearing it off rather than cutting it but as I said the choice is up to you.”
Breathing heavily to the point of hyperventilating the alien weakly mumbled out “...Break it...”
“I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that?” Thatcher replied.
“Break it!” he cried out.
“Ask nicely.” Thatcher insisted.
“Please Break My Fin-Ahhh!” he screamed as Thatcher broke the final digit.
“There we go, all done now.” Thatcher smiled as he patted his shoulder companionably “That wasn’t so bad was it? I think you should thank me don’t you?”
“T-Thank you...” he mumbled out.
“Thank you for what?” Thatcher prompted as he squeezed the broken fingers making him scream out.
“Thank You For Breaking My Fingers!” he blubbered out as Thatcher released his hold on his wrist making him collapse limply onto the floor clutching at the shattered appendage and weeping painfully.
“I’m glad we got that all worked out.” he smiled as he stood back up and turned to the other pirate who had been watching the scene play out in horror. Meeting Thatchers gaze the pirate unconsciously took a step back as his body trembled in fear “Take your friend back to Yanko and tell him that if he wants to talk he can come here and see me.”
“That won’t be necessary.” a voice called out. Turning Thatcher saw a familiar looking alien sitting at a table surrounded by his cronies. Pirate Lord Yanko was a hulking, beast of an alien; his large portly body had him standing a head taller than any of the other aliens in the room. He had four sets of eyes on his angular head which were bisected by a large triangular mouth lined with sharp fangs. The top of his head tapered on into two long hornlike appendages and his large, meaty hands only had three stubby fingers each.
Picking up his glass Thatcher stepped over the still weeping pirate and approached the Pirate Lord. “If you were sitting over here all along you could have just asked me over yourself.”
“Then what would I be paying them for?” he laughed causing his jowls to jiggled as he picked up a piece of meat still on the bone and brought to between his jaws where his sharp teeth stripped the flesh from it instantly. “Besides, if I had I wouldn’t have gotten to see another display of the famed Human brutality. I must say I was most impressed. I especially liked the way you had him beg you to break his finger and then to make him thank you for doing it!” he clapped his hands together with an evil grin. “I’ve never seen someone break someone in such an efficient manner.”
Sitting down opposite Yanko Thatcher said “I find it best to get any necessary unpleasantness over and done with as quickly as possible.”
“Ah, but the female you have with you enjoys her work though doesn’t she? I could tell by the way she toyed with Tellou’s pet Lizard.” he said with a leer “I can see why Artum keeps her around. I’d certainly be putting her talents to good use if she were my pet. Normally I’d prefer my females to have a bit more meat on them than she does, makes them more durable but I wouldn’t be unwilling to make an exception for her. Of course with a body that scrawny I doubt she’d be able to endure my affections!” he roared with laughter making his underlings laugh as well.
Waiting for the laughter to die out with an expressionless look on his face Thatcher said “So did you just call me over to say hello or did you want something?”
Shoving more food into his mouth Yanko said “Let me ask you something, how did a bunch of humans wind up working for an upstart Praxian like Artum?”
“We were looking for some work and his was the first crew we ran into.” Thatcher replied.
“Ah, so it’s a partnership of convenience?” Yanko grinned “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Why’s that?” Thatcher asked.
“Because it’s clear your talents are wasted with Artum. If you came to work for me I would put your skills to good use.”
“I don’t see why we should. We’ve got a pretty good arrangement going with Artum, I see no reason to rock the boat.”
“Because I can tell you humans are an ambitious sort. Since you arrived in this system Artum has gone from picking up asteroid scraps on the fringes of the system to ruling an entire planet, quite the coincidence no?” he said with a grin “And all of a sudden his rivals ships start getting attacked. Your doing I assume?”
“You’re right.” Thatcher replied with a sip of his drink “That is quite the coincidence.”
Letting out a laugh Yanko said “Let me ask, how much does Artum pay you and your friends?”
“You wouldn’t be able to afford us.” Thatcher replied.
“I’ve been doing this a lot longer than Artum has and I have very deep pockets.”
Folding his arms across his chest with a small smile Thatcher replied “A quarter.”
“A quarter?” Yanko frowned “A quarter of what?”
“A quarter of everything he earns from his planet.” he announced making one of Yanko’s goons spit out his drink in surprise. “I take it none of you boys are on that kind of pay grade? Thought not.” he smirked as he drained his drink “Well, if you have no other business with me I think I’ll be going.” he said as he got to feet and started to walk away.
“Sit back down!” Yanko snapped at him.
Pausing, Thatcher turned to meet Yanko’s glare and said “Ask nicely.”
Storming to his feet Yanko slammed his fists on the table and snarled out “You think you can get away with speaking to me like that?! You think I won’t gut you open and gorge myself on your entrails?!”
Stepping back towards the table Thatcher pressed his knuckles against the table and leaned forward to stare into Yanko’s multiple eyes. “That will certainly be an impressive feat without any teeth.” he said as he reached into his pocket to pull out a pair of pliers and slammed them down on the table making Yanko’s lieutenants eye them nervously. “I want to make something abundantly clear; the only reason I haven’t gouged out your eyes and yanked every single one of your teeth from your skull is that I am a paragon of fucking restraint. But it would be suicidally stupid of you to mistake that restraint for inability.” Thatcher replied levelly as he continued to stare up at Yakno.
Glowering at Thatcher the veins in Yanko’s thick muscular arms pulsed and throbbed furiously as he tensed the muscles in preparation to throttle the insolent human to death. Just as Thatcher braced himself for Yanko to throw himself at him the fury left Yanko’s eyes and was replaced with mirth as he let out a deep throated laugh “You humans really are every bit as insane as they say you are!” he bellowed with laughter “You’re like rabid animals snapping and snarling at any who come near you!”
“I’ve been called worse things.” Thatcher said with a small smile.
“As have I my friend.” Yanko grinned as he grabbed a bottle and refilled Thatchers glass “Come, drink with me!” he insisted as he brought the bottle to his mouth and threw back it’s contents causing the alcohol to splash down his chin and dribbled down his jowls. As Thatcher accepted the drink Yanko grinned and said “I’ve been looking to recruit a human ever since I heard about your brutality during the war. I feel a certain kinship towards a species as depraved and vicious as yours.”
“I’m honoured I’m sure.” Thatcher said dryly as he sat back down in the chair making Yanko guffaw loudly.
“I want creatures like you humans working for me. Look at these cowards I have to put up with.” he said gesturing disdainfully at his lieutenants “Not a single one of them have the balls to even look me in the eyes while you didn’t even blink knowing I could have had my men kill you any time I wanted.”
“They would have tried to kill me.” Thatcher replied making Yanko slam his fist against the table in amusement.
“You humans really never back down from a fight do you?”
“That’s because we’ve yet to get in a fight we can’t win.” Thatcher retorted causing Yanko to bellow with laughter.
“Alright, I’ve decided.” Yanko suddenly declared “I’ll match Artums offer.”
“You can’t be serious-” One of Yanko’s men started to object only for Yanko to grasp the back of his head and slam his face into the table.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Yanko snarled menacingly as he put his weight behind his arm and started to grind his flunky’s head into the table. Looking back to Thatcher and seeing him unperturbed by this casual act of violence Yanko said “A quarter of the profits from my planet and in return the four of your will come work for me.”
Tapping his finger against the table for a thoughtful moment Thatcher replied “I’ll have to talk it over with my companions.”
His mood darkening Yanko said “Talk as much as you want so long as you give me the answer I want to hear. I am not accustomed to being disappointed and I never make an offer twice.”
Not flinching away from Yanko’s gaze Thatcher replied “There’s something you should know about us humans if you really intend to hire us.”
“Oh, what’s that?” Yanko growled out dangerously.
“You really want to be careful how you talk to us. We tend to respond to threats in the most disproportional of ways.”
“And what does that mean?” Yanko asked.
“It means if you ever so much as give me or any of my crew a dirty look, we’ll let you live just long enough for you to see everything you’ve worked for turn to ash before we slit your throat.” Thatcher replied.
Falling silent Yanko’s men watched tensely as the pair of them stared at one another for a long moment before Yanko blinked first and reluctantly growled out “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“So long as we have an understanding.” Thatcher replied as he drained his glass before getting to his feet. “I think we’ve taken up enough of one another’s time. I’ll get back to you once I’ve had a talk with the others.”
Returning to their quarters Thatcher found Artum and Vic sitting at a table playing cards together. Artum was staring at his hand with a frown on his face while Vic idly stacked his large pile of chips into small towers. “How’s it going?” Thatcher asked as he grabbed a bottle and took a seat at the table.
“Poorly.” Artum grumbled as he glared at Vic “He’s teaching me poker but I don’t see how he keeps winning. I don’t even let him shuffle or touch the cards and yet he always seems to know when to fold.”
“Oh well that’s easy. He cheats.” Thatcher said as he took a sip of his drink.
“What?!” Artum growled making Vic let out a sigh.
“I’m not cheating. It’s simple maths.” he argued.
Letting out a small laugh Thatcher explained “You see, if you know how many of each card is in a deck you can figure out how likely the next card in the deck will be something that will improve your hand. Say there’s forty cards left in the deck and fifteen of them of them will give you a strong final hand. Not terrible odds that you could come out ahead. But if only two of them will get you there it’s probably not worth the risk. Beyond that it all comes down to how good you are at bluffing. Come on, deal me in.”
Still glaring at Vic, Artum shuffled the deck and dealt out the cards “So how did your reconnaissance go?”
“Not bad. Got an offer to go work with one of the other Pirate Lords.” Thatch replied.
“Oh?” Artum narrowed his eyes at Thatcher.
“Apparently Asami made quite the impression with her little altercation with the Draastrkian. Seems like having a Human on your crew is becoming all the rage.” Thatcher replied.
“And what was your response?” Artum asked.
“Told him I’d think about it.” he said as he watched Vic’s facial expression closely before tossing down his cards.
“And why would you do that?” Artum growled.
“Because it gives us an in with him. If we need to kill him this will allow us to get close without having to kill his entire crew to get to him.”
“We’ll just have to kill them all on the way out.” Vic added as he threw a few chips to the pot. Frowning down at his cards Artum stared at Vic before glancing at Thatchers discarded cards and threw his own away causing Vic to let out a sigh as he collected his small pot of winnings. “This is why I don’t play poker with you any more Thatch.” he complained making him smirk.
As the next hand was dealt the door to their room opened and in walked a dishevelled looking Tucker with a drunken grin on his face and a half empty bottle in his hand “There you guys are! I’ve been… I’ve been looking all over for you!” he said as he swayed unsteadily on his feet.
“How many times do I have to remind you that getting drunk isn’t a necessary part of reconnaissance?” Thatcher sighed.
“Ah, that’s were you’re wrong see. We’re in hostile territory filled with a whole menagerie of aliens with a whole host of different cultures. I could inadvertently offend someone by turning down a drink.” he sniffed. “You can’t get information out of people who you’ve just offended.”
“If that was true you’d never learn anything.” Thatcher retorted “So I’m guessing you didn’t get anywhere?”
“I’ll have you know I had a very productive afternoon. I had a meeting with Pirate Lord...um… Well I don’t exactly remember his name but I’ll know him when I see him.”
“Confidence inspiring as always Tuck.” Thatcher shook his head. “So what happened during this meeting?”
“He made me a very generous offer to join his crew; one which I am inclined to take but I mag… magnani… but out the kindness of my heart I’m gonna give Artum the chance to make me a better offer.” he stumbled over his words and finished with a loud belch. “He even said I’d get a head hunters fee if I bring you guys along with me but if this is the respect I get I don’t think I’ll be inclined to share my good fortune.”
“What was he offering you?” Artum wondered, amused by Tuckers antics.
“Girls for one thing.” he slurred “He has soooo many girls working for him. You guys wouldn’t believe how gorgeous they are; they come in all shapes and sizes and colours, there was even this one girl with feathers! And these girls were really friendly if you know what I mean.” he grinned before frowning at Artum. “Unlike your girls Ar-Artum.” he pointed an accusing finger at him “None of them even give me the time of day.”
“That’s because Asami pays them to ignore you.” Vic revealed making Thatcher snort in amusement and Artum smirk.
“That’s because she’s a spoilsport. She doesn’t like to see other people having a good time. Remember that Korsican I could have hooked up with if she hadn’t gotten in my way?”
Looking towards the other two humans Artum said “Is he aware Korsicans-”
“He knows.” Thatcher and Vic replied simultaneously.
Letting out a laugh Artum pushed out a chair and said “Here, have a seat before you fall over.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Tucker agreed as he slipped into the seat. “Let me play too.” he demanded.
“In the next round.” Thatcher replied.
“So what’s our next move?” Artum asked.
“Well, we’ve got propositions from two of the five Pirate Lords we have to deal with. We could always defect and do what we did with Zaldi, ingratiate ourselves before killing them and taking over their crews.”
“That’s risky though.” Vic interjected “We keep pulling the same stunt they’re going to get wise to us and all we’ll end up doing is start a war. The last thing we want is to get into a fight and diminish our forces if we’ve still got another three Lords to deal with.”
Letting out a grunt Thatcher nodded his head and said “True, but that’ll probably be the best way for us to get more info on our mysterious host. I don’t like having such a wildcard in play like this.”
“Does anyone care what I think?” Tucker asked and received a simultaneously ‘No’ from the other three at the table leaving him pouting.
“Regardless it’s too early to start making any concrete plans until Asami gets back and we here what she’s found out. Speak of the devil...” he said as they heard the door to their room open.
Turning towards the doorway they saw a battered and bruised Asami limp into the room dragging a duffel bag along the floor while her other hand held a long machete like knife dripping with blood. Her clothes were torn and bloodied and her arm bleeding from a deep gash near her shoulder. Her neck was bruised and her lip was split and swollen and half her face was stained with dried blood from a cut above her right eye.
Storming to his feet at the sight of her Artum cried out “What happened to you?!” knocking over his chair in his haste to get to her. “Who did this to you?!” he demanded to know as he grabbed hold of her forearms. “I’ll kill them! I’ll skin them alive! I’ll tear out their throats with my own claws! I’ll-”
“I’m fine.” Asami interrupted his tirade and shrugged off his hands and continued towards the table. “I come bearing good news.” she announced as she lifted up her bag and slammed it on the table.
“Oh?” Thatcher wondered from his seat as he eyed the bag. None of the humans seemed overly concerned about the condition she returned in.
Unzipping the bag Asami pulled it apart to reveal a severed head. “We’ve only got four Pirate Lords to deal with now.”
Prologue|Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Epilogue
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