Post by Rysto on May 6, 2010 21:30:30 GMT -5
It was Hedge, Fiddler decided, who was ultimately responsible for the mess Fiddler found himself in now. Damn Hedge anyway, him and his card games. It was insanity, playing games of chance with the Deck of Dragons, the Fatid that was so closely tied to the Ascendants and their games. Just laying a field and trying to foretell the future invited unwelcome attention. Playing games and then gambling on the outcome? Madness.
Fiddler had been drawn into those games so many years ago, a recruit into the military company that hadn't yet acquired the legendary name of “The Bridgeburners”. And once he started, he found he couldn't stop. At the time, he'd believed that it was the lure of winning, and the flood of money that came with it. A flood that continued three days running, until Hedge finally pulled a knife on him and demanded to know how Fiddler was doing it. Fiddler tried to explain that it was just the Lady's Push, and the winning streak was sure to end eventually. Hedge didn't buy it – especially after the next day, where Fidder crushed them again. Fiddler had no idea what to tell him; he somehow just knew what card would be coming next.
Inexplicably, Hedge's eyes had lit up at that. He made Fiddler test it, and sure enough, Fiddler could tell what card he held without ever looking at it, 4 times out of 5. “I knew it!” Hedge had crowed. “You're an adept with the Deck, Fid. Now, most people would tell you that you should go spend the rest of your life telling fortunes, or some shit. Forget that. You know what you and me are going to do? We're going to get rich, recruit!”
It had been the beginning of a long, and very profitable friendship.
In the intervening years, Fiddler came to understand what being an adept really meant. It wasn't the thrill of victory or the easy money that saw him play in Hedge's games again and again. It wasn't for the camaraderie with his fellow soldiers or his friendship with Hedge. It was the Deck of Dragons. Fiddler needed to touch it, to hold it. Each card was reverberating with arcane knowledge that was begging to be unveiled. Fiddler had tried to fight it. But alas, he had revealed his talents and drawn to himself that what all front-line soldiers fear: unwanted attention.
And so Fiddler found himself in the command tent – no place any Sergeant ever wanted to be. Arrayed around the table were Fists Blistig and Keneb, each commanding one of the army's Legions, Quick Ben, the army's High Mage, Captain Lostara Yil, Aide to the army's commander, and Adjunct Tarvore Paran herself, commander of what had once been the Malazan Fourteenth Army.
“Adjunct,” Fiddler said flatly, “this ain't a good idea.” A Deck of Dragons lay in front of him, it's siren cry echoing in his mind, but he refused to so much as touch it.
“I am afraid you must have misunderstood me, sergeant,” Tavore snapped. “That wasn't a request. Our war has comes to a critical juncture, and you well know that the Gods themselves are at the heart of it. I must know how things stand.”
Trying to bite back his frustration, and failing, Fiddler responded in kind. “And you imagine the Deck to be as accommodating as that? That it will just tell us whatever you want to know? The Deck of Dragons cannot be commanded--”
“Her brother might have a thing or two to say about that,” Quick Ben observed sardonically.
“Shut up, wizard, you ain't helping any. Do I look like the Master of the Deck? Adjunct, I make no claims as to what the Captain can or cannot do, but as for myself, I cannot compel anything from the Deck of Dragons. Hood knows, the Deck compels me, and some things – some things just ain't worth knowing.”
“Knowledge is a tool, soldier, nothing more and nothing less. Now deal.”
Fiddler glared at his commander for a moment, but finally acquiesced. “As the Adjunct commands.” He picked up the Deck and threw two cards to Tavore. “Adjunct's got Soldier of Death and Jesters of Chance, and ain't they a pair!” he called to his players. “One charged with protecting Felisin Paran's life and the other bound to end to it! A rather unfair match, a mere mortal against a God, especially a God who can rig the dice. The Adjunct's sister got nothing of the Lady's Push, unless we count Tavore pushing her out the door!” The Adjunct blanched, but Fiddler continued. “But fear not, fellow players, for all's well that ends well. The reputation of the House of Paran was salvaged, Oponn plucked a mortal life from Hood's Gates and the Lord of Death got his sister in return, and a new Soldier in the bargain! What's a sixteen-year-old's life against all that?”
Fiddler turned to Lostara Yil and tossed two cards at her, the second landing directly on top of the first. “Lostara's got Orb, but we can't see her other card. Now what's true sight and judgment concealing from us?” Fiddler reached across the table and flipped Orb off of the other card. “Why, it's the Virgin of Life! It seems the captain is keeping a few secrets about an innocent--”
“Stop! Stop it!” Lostara said shrilly.
Fiddler seemed to come back to himself for a moment, and his eyes locked on Captain Yil. “We'll, uh, just move on to the next player, then?” he said, shaken.
“Wait, what was--” Adjunct Tavore broke in, but Fiddler had already dealt two more cards.
“Quick Ben's got Assassin of Shadow and Lord of Death!” Fiddler announced. “So many years on the run, and so many betrayals along the way! Could they finally be catching up to him? How long can one survive when they make a point of tweaking the nose of every Ascendant they run across? I wouldn't trust your alliance with Hood to last much longer, wizard: he don't look too happy, does he? And can you feel The Rope closing in?”
“And now we come to Fist Blistig! I must admit, sir, I hope I have good news for you, seeing as I serve in your legion.” Two cards flicked out in quick succession. “First card is King in Chains! An empty throne for now, but surely that can't continue forever. The Crippled God must want someone to rule his House of Chains. Second card is Herald of Death! Not the best of omens, for where the Herald goes Hood follows closely. But at least it's not the Knight!”
“Fist Keneb, let's try for some better luck.” The first card flicked out with a practiced motion, but Fiddler fumbled with the second card upon seeing the first. “Ah. Well. Would you look at that. Knight of Death. Unhappy times ahead for your legion, I'm sorry to say. Now, let's see this other card. Lords of War! It seems you march to battle, Fist. Be glad for the Deck of Dragons – I'm sure you never could have predicted that without it!”
Fiddler laid two cards in front of himself, then made a choked noise. “Dealer has – dealer has Mason of Death and Guardians of the Dead.” He paused, staring at his cards for a long time. “G-uess I'll be seeing some old friends soon enough.”
A deathly silence filled the room. Fiddler was the first to break it. “I trust that is sufficient, Adjunct?”
Tavore looked up from the cards in front of her, and Fiddler was shocked to see tears in her eyes. “The centre card, sergeant,” she said hoarsely.
Fiddler stared at his in disbelief. Has she still not learned? He reined in his thoughts. “As the Adjunct wishes.” One more card clattered at the middle of the table. “Aha, Deathstealer! The Crippled God is at the heart of it all. Look at him laugh! The Gods are at war, and the Chained One has finally had his revenge!”
Welcome to the Mafia Game of the Fallen, a game based on the fantasy series by Steven Erikson. This will be a game unlike any you've played before. There is no Town. There are no scum. Each an every one of you will be a third-party actor, playing for keeps -- and your own win condition. There are no "vanilla" roles in this game: everybody has a power. We currently have room for 22 players, but if you ask really really nicely we may be able to go up to 25. No promises to anybody after the first 22 signups, though. If you want to sign up for the sub bench, go ahead.
Because this game is unique, we expect there to be nearly as much action at Night as there will be during the Day. Therefore we have decided to run this game on a strict weekly schedule. Each Day will last 4 real-world days and each Night will last 3 real-world days. We're going to try to be flexible in how we schedule the Days and Nights to suit our players, so in your sign-up post please indicate which days of the week you expect to be able to participate and which days of the week you don't expect to be able to participate. We're not going to hold you to it so don't worry if you're not entirely sure. Annoy us by not giving us this information and we'll get you back by not giving you any of the cool roles
.
We expect the game to run between 8-12 weeks, but as we've never run this setup before I'm not willing to guarantee that.
Signup List
1. Sister Coyote
2. BillMc
3. Cookies
4. ed
5. Total Lost
6. Drain Gead
7. Zeriel
8. storyteller
9. Oredigger77
10. peeker
11. Pleonast
12. Mahaloth
12. Red Skeezix
13. nphase
14. Pinkies
15. sinjin
16. fisheroo
17. molefan
18. zuma
19. Pinkies
20. OneAndOnlyluvbwfc
21. moodymitchy
22. Hal Briston
23. Idle
Bill and Sister, please confirm that you are interested in playing. This isn't a traditional game, so no worries if this wasn't what you were expecting.
Fiddler had been drawn into those games so many years ago, a recruit into the military company that hadn't yet acquired the legendary name of “The Bridgeburners”. And once he started, he found he couldn't stop. At the time, he'd believed that it was the lure of winning, and the flood of money that came with it. A flood that continued three days running, until Hedge finally pulled a knife on him and demanded to know how Fiddler was doing it. Fiddler tried to explain that it was just the Lady's Push, and the winning streak was sure to end eventually. Hedge didn't buy it – especially after the next day, where Fidder crushed them again. Fiddler had no idea what to tell him; he somehow just knew what card would be coming next.
Inexplicably, Hedge's eyes had lit up at that. He made Fiddler test it, and sure enough, Fiddler could tell what card he held without ever looking at it, 4 times out of 5. “I knew it!” Hedge had crowed. “You're an adept with the Deck, Fid. Now, most people would tell you that you should go spend the rest of your life telling fortunes, or some shit. Forget that. You know what you and me are going to do? We're going to get rich, recruit!”
It had been the beginning of a long, and very profitable friendship.
In the intervening years, Fiddler came to understand what being an adept really meant. It wasn't the thrill of victory or the easy money that saw him play in Hedge's games again and again. It wasn't for the camaraderie with his fellow soldiers or his friendship with Hedge. It was the Deck of Dragons. Fiddler needed to touch it, to hold it. Each card was reverberating with arcane knowledge that was begging to be unveiled. Fiddler had tried to fight it. But alas, he had revealed his talents and drawn to himself that what all front-line soldiers fear: unwanted attention.
And so Fiddler found himself in the command tent – no place any Sergeant ever wanted to be. Arrayed around the table were Fists Blistig and Keneb, each commanding one of the army's Legions, Quick Ben, the army's High Mage, Captain Lostara Yil, Aide to the army's commander, and Adjunct Tarvore Paran herself, commander of what had once been the Malazan Fourteenth Army.
“Adjunct,” Fiddler said flatly, “this ain't a good idea.” A Deck of Dragons lay in front of him, it's siren cry echoing in his mind, but he refused to so much as touch it.
“I am afraid you must have misunderstood me, sergeant,” Tavore snapped. “That wasn't a request. Our war has comes to a critical juncture, and you well know that the Gods themselves are at the heart of it. I must know how things stand.”
Trying to bite back his frustration, and failing, Fiddler responded in kind. “And you imagine the Deck to be as accommodating as that? That it will just tell us whatever you want to know? The Deck of Dragons cannot be commanded--”
“Her brother might have a thing or two to say about that,” Quick Ben observed sardonically.
“Shut up, wizard, you ain't helping any. Do I look like the Master of the Deck? Adjunct, I make no claims as to what the Captain can or cannot do, but as for myself, I cannot compel anything from the Deck of Dragons. Hood knows, the Deck compels me, and some things – some things just ain't worth knowing.”
“Knowledge is a tool, soldier, nothing more and nothing less. Now deal.”
Fiddler glared at his commander for a moment, but finally acquiesced. “As the Adjunct commands.” He picked up the Deck and threw two cards to Tavore. “Adjunct's got Soldier of Death and Jesters of Chance, and ain't they a pair!” he called to his players. “One charged with protecting Felisin Paran's life and the other bound to end to it! A rather unfair match, a mere mortal against a God, especially a God who can rig the dice. The Adjunct's sister got nothing of the Lady's Push, unless we count Tavore pushing her out the door!” The Adjunct blanched, but Fiddler continued. “But fear not, fellow players, for all's well that ends well. The reputation of the House of Paran was salvaged, Oponn plucked a mortal life from Hood's Gates and the Lord of Death got his sister in return, and a new Soldier in the bargain! What's a sixteen-year-old's life against all that?”
Fiddler turned to Lostara Yil and tossed two cards at her, the second landing directly on top of the first. “Lostara's got Orb, but we can't see her other card. Now what's true sight and judgment concealing from us?” Fiddler reached across the table and flipped Orb off of the other card. “Why, it's the Virgin of Life! It seems the captain is keeping a few secrets about an innocent--”
“Stop! Stop it!” Lostara said shrilly.
Fiddler seemed to come back to himself for a moment, and his eyes locked on Captain Yil. “We'll, uh, just move on to the next player, then?” he said, shaken.
“Wait, what was--” Adjunct Tavore broke in, but Fiddler had already dealt two more cards.
“Quick Ben's got Assassin of Shadow and Lord of Death!” Fiddler announced. “So many years on the run, and so many betrayals along the way! Could they finally be catching up to him? How long can one survive when they make a point of tweaking the nose of every Ascendant they run across? I wouldn't trust your alliance with Hood to last much longer, wizard: he don't look too happy, does he? And can you feel The Rope closing in?”
“And now we come to Fist Blistig! I must admit, sir, I hope I have good news for you, seeing as I serve in your legion.” Two cards flicked out in quick succession. “First card is King in Chains! An empty throne for now, but surely that can't continue forever. The Crippled God must want someone to rule his House of Chains. Second card is Herald of Death! Not the best of omens, for where the Herald goes Hood follows closely. But at least it's not the Knight!”
“Fist Keneb, let's try for some better luck.” The first card flicked out with a practiced motion, but Fiddler fumbled with the second card upon seeing the first. “Ah. Well. Would you look at that. Knight of Death. Unhappy times ahead for your legion, I'm sorry to say. Now, let's see this other card. Lords of War! It seems you march to battle, Fist. Be glad for the Deck of Dragons – I'm sure you never could have predicted that without it!”
Fiddler laid two cards in front of himself, then made a choked noise. “Dealer has – dealer has Mason of Death and Guardians of the Dead.” He paused, staring at his cards for a long time. “G-uess I'll be seeing some old friends soon enough.”
A deathly silence filled the room. Fiddler was the first to break it. “I trust that is sufficient, Adjunct?”
Tavore looked up from the cards in front of her, and Fiddler was shocked to see tears in her eyes. “The centre card, sergeant,” she said hoarsely.
Fiddler stared at his in disbelief. Has she still not learned? He reined in his thoughts. “As the Adjunct wishes.” One more card clattered at the middle of the table. “Aha, Deathstealer! The Crippled God is at the heart of it all. Look at him laugh! The Gods are at war, and the Chained One has finally had his revenge!”
Welcome to the Mafia Game of the Fallen, a game based on the fantasy series by Steven Erikson. This will be a game unlike any you've played before. There is no Town. There are no scum. Each an every one of you will be a third-party actor, playing for keeps -- and your own win condition. There are no "vanilla" roles in this game: everybody has a power. We currently have room for 22 players, but if you ask really really nicely we may be able to go up to 25. No promises to anybody after the first 22 signups, though. If you want to sign up for the sub bench, go ahead.
Because this game is unique, we expect there to be nearly as much action at Night as there will be during the Day. Therefore we have decided to run this game on a strict weekly schedule. Each Day will last 4 real-world days and each Night will last 3 real-world days. We're going to try to be flexible in how we schedule the Days and Nights to suit our players, so in your sign-up post please indicate which days of the week you expect to be able to participate and which days of the week you don't expect to be able to participate. We're not going to hold you to it so don't worry if you're not entirely sure. Annoy us by not giving us this information and we'll get you back by not giving you any of the cool roles
.We expect the game to run between 8-12 weeks, but as we've never run this setup before I'm not willing to guarantee that.
Signup List
1. Sister Coyote
2. BillMc
3. Cookies
4. ed
5. Total Lost
6. Drain Gead
7. Zeriel
8. storyteller
9. Oredigger77
10. peeker
11. Pleonast
12. Mahaloth
12. Red Skeezix
13. nphase
14. Pinkies
15. sinjin
16. fisheroo
17. molefan
18. zuma
19. Pinkies
20. OneAndOnlyluvbwfc
21. moodymitchy
22. Hal Briston
23. Idle
Bill and Sister, please confirm that you are interested in playing. This isn't a traditional game, so no worries if this wasn't what you were expecting.
