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| Ah, the return of the most riveting choices. |
Choice: Left: 52
Did... did the book just make a choice for me? Am I needed for this?
A big party scene? With monsters of all shapes and sizes playing games and no doubt getting drunk? Now there has to be an image of this. Come on, Nicholson, show us the goods!
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| Woo! Par-tay! |
Fine, I guess I'll supply my own image.
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| Accurate illustration. |
I break into a wide smile and a long, "Eeey! What's on tap y'scrubs!" I holler out, bursting into the bizarre chaos with a grin. Hey, maybe Balthus Dire likes his party games.
Choice: Play Along: 385
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| Remember, kids, alcohol cures what ales you. |
"Ah, that hits the spot!" I call, as I wipe a mustache of foam from my lips. The games get listed out. I'm quite uncertain of their meanings, but I reckon I can ace anything involving knives.
Stamina: 7+2=9
Choice: Knifey-Knifey: 365
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| It's like the government doesn't want us stabbing ourselves! Nanny state at work. |
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| Are they fabulous prizes? |
The Game Master proceeds to produce several thick tomes and sheets of paper, asking you to please stick to the core book if you're new to D&D.
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| How come I couldn't get an apprenticeship like this? |
She laughs, a pretty sound from her coarse, scarred face. "You're funny, Glaz-Doz-Fut," is all she says.
"Hilarious," I agree solemnly.
This game can take so long to explain very simple rules.
My fingers twitch. I could cast the spell and be out of here... but that breastplate. That's worth something. I juggle the knives, shuffling them about in a complex pattern, and spin them round to my opponent.
"Show me how it's done, bud."
The massive creature selects a blade with its elephantine trunk. The game begins.
Round 1
The creature plunges the knife into its stomach. I am assured that is where its particular heart is, and I'll take their word for it. The creature sighs with relief, and pulls the false blade away again. With a smile, it shuffles the knives.
I grab a knife without concern and thrust it into my stomach. I fall flat, face first, into the table. The creature begins to cheer and ask for its prize, when I sit back up. "Honestly," I say, throwing the fake knife back on the table, "I need to talk to the blacksmith about the quality of the arms."
Round 2
The creature angrily grabs a knife from my hands before I'm done shuffling. It stabs its heart again, and is again full of relief.
I toss my knife up in the air. It goes end over end over end, until landing point first on the top of my head. It then falls off into my waiting hand. I shuffle.
Round 3
The creature stabs itself again. It is having no fun with this. Though, the momentary relief of another false blade makes it smile.
I attempt to slice my own throat, but the point falls into the handle.
Round 4
The creature is sweating profusely now. It plunges a fresh blade into its stomach heart. It sighs with the relief of tension broken once more. Then it slumps forward and breaks the table in half with its weight. A few interested bystanders turn it over, and find blood pooling around the knife.
I let out a whoop of triumph, and secure the magical breastplate from the apprentice.
"Play again?" she asks.
"Its a bit dull," I say, all confidence and smiles, "Let's try runestones."
"You need to explain things quicker," I tell my fellow apprentice. "These drunkards haven't followed a word.
I give the rock a spin, and toss it to my neighbor. He scrabbles with his goat hooves a moment, before passing it into a pair of razor sharp metal talons, which huck it to a single hand with three sluglike fingers. That hand throws it back to me. I throw it extra hard so the mucus won't get me, hooves catches expertly, and then it explodes in a shower of heat and hooves.
I collect my money from the Game Master with a knowing grin, as the creature behind me bleats in agony. "This is fun. You sure Master Dire doesn't play?"
She shakes her head. "Never."
I nod. "Well, keep it fresh, let's try Six Pick."
Well, this is considerably less exciting," I inform the Game Master.
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| Oh, Titan Roulette, why didn't you say? |
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| Yeah, attacks from a pike-armed RHINO-MAN you can shrug off, but a knife? That's serious business. |
My fingers twitch. I could cast the spell and be out of here... but that breastplate. That's worth something. I juggle the knives, shuffling them about in a complex pattern, and spin them round to my opponent.
"Show me how it's done, bud."
The massive creature selects a blade with its elephantine trunk. The game begins.
Round 1
The creature plunges the knife into its stomach. I am assured that is where its particular heart is, and I'll take their word for it. The creature sighs with relief, and pulls the false blade away again. With a smile, it shuffles the knives.
I grab a knife without concern and thrust it into my stomach. I fall flat, face first, into the table. The creature begins to cheer and ask for its prize, when I sit back up. "Honestly," I say, throwing the fake knife back on the table, "I need to talk to the blacksmith about the quality of the arms."
Round 2
The creature angrily grabs a knife from my hands before I'm done shuffling. It stabs its heart again, and is again full of relief.
I toss my knife up in the air. It goes end over end over end, until landing point first on the top of my head. It then falls off into my waiting hand. I shuffle.
Round 3
The creature stabs itself again. It is having no fun with this. Though, the momentary relief of another false blade makes it smile.
I attempt to slice my own throat, but the point falls into the handle.
Round 4
The creature is sweating profusely now. It plunges a fresh blade into its stomach heart. It sighs with the relief of tension broken once more. Then it slumps forward and breaks the table in half with its weight. A few interested bystanders turn it over, and find blood pooling around the knife.
I let out a whoop of triumph, and secure the magical breastplate from the apprentice.
"Play again?" she asks.
"Its a bit dull," I say, all confidence and smiles, "Let's try runestones."
Choice: Runestones: 278
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| My hands‽ But those're how I do my kidding! |
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| No illusions to avoid this one, I notice. |
Nevertheless, three other contestants show up and we get ready for the game.
Initiative
The Game Master hands me the stone with a smile, th spell cast upon it. "Good luck," she says.
"Tease," I say. I think the ale has gotten to my mouth.
I give the rock a spin, and toss it to my neighbor. He scrabbles with his goat hooves a moment, before passing it into a pair of razor sharp metal talons, which huck it to a single hand with three sluglike fingers. That hand throws it back to me. I throw it extra hard so the mucus won't get me, hooves catches expertly, and then it explodes in a shower of heat and hooves.
I collect my money from the Game Master with a knowing grin, as the creature behind me bleats in agony. "This is fun. You sure Master Dire doesn't play?"
She shakes her head. "Never."
I nod. "Well, keep it fresh, let's try Six Pick."
Money: 0+36=36
Choice: Six Pick: 171
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| Non-Titan Roulette, got it. |
She shrugs, "Not everyone likes to bet their wellbeing."
"Hm," I hum absently. Quick math. There're six possibilities, but it yields 5 times the bet. If you bet equally on everything you always lose. If you bet equally on 5 you likely win, but only break even. If you lay equally on 4, you have a better than 50% shot of getting good, and make back whatever value you put on each in exchange.
"Three on 1, 2, 3 and 4," I say in a bored voice. I hand over the 12 pieces.
The die lands on 4, and I collect my 15. It's only 3 more coins, but it's not bad. Screw it. "Again. But, this time make it 4 each on the same." Die comes up 5, I lose my share. I smile at the Game Master. "Well there goes my money."
I'm tempted to keep flirting with the Game Master. Maybe try and get her to talk. But, she doesn't seem that interested. And if she became interested... well, I can only go so far before the usual discoveries and explanations. It has never gone well.
I get up, make my excuses, and leave. I put on the breastplate after I get back into the hall. I don't want them seeing how big it is on me. I have to really tug the straps to get it to fit properly.
"Hm," I hum absently. Quick math. There're six possibilities, but it yields 5 times the bet. If you bet equally on everything you always lose. If you bet equally on 5 you likely win, but only break even. If you lay equally on 4, you have a better than 50% shot of getting good, and make back whatever value you put on each in exchange.
"Three on 1, 2, 3 and 4," I say in a bored voice. I hand over the 12 pieces.
The die lands on 4, and I collect my 15. It's only 3 more coins, but it's not bad. Screw it. "Again. But, this time make it 4 each on the same." Die comes up 5, I lose my share. I smile at the Game Master. "Well there goes my money."
Money: 36-12+15-16=33
I'm tempted to keep flirting with the Game Master. Maybe try and get her to talk. But, she doesn't seem that interested. And if she became interested... well, I can only go so far before the usual discoveries and explanations. It has never gone well.
I get up, make my excuses, and leave. I put on the breastplate after I get back into the hall. I don't want them seeing how big it is on me. I have to really tug the straps to get it to fit properly.
Choice: Leave: 31
That was a lot of fun. Closest thing last time was the old man and the dice, but this is way more realized and engaging. The two games that risk death and injury are quite intense. It really captures a much zanier fun, and makes it feel like people, and monsters, actually live in this Citadel and need to pass the time and get together.
Also, that Magic Breastplate is going to be as useful as a paper shredder in a CIA blacksite. As though 12 Skill wasn't enough, I now take 2 off my opponents and effectively have 14 Skill!
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