Emerald Queen Casino & Hotel

I latch onto specific problems and when I do everything else around me diminishes into nothingness until I complete the task at hand. I line these problems up and solve them, one-by-one, and I find updating the task list awfully difficult. If I am on my way to do a job, breaking off to attend to something else is almost impossible. I once finished buttering my toast before putting out a fire by the stove. I once lost a girlfriend after she trapped her fingers in a food processor, and I quietly went over to the fridge and put the milk away before turning to help her. She couldn’t believe that I hadn’t rushed over straight away, but of course it wasn’t really like that. I was unable to review or address my priorities until my mind had freed itself from the current task.
I have to manage these tendencies. And I learned at an early age that it helps to focus on discrete tasks that, if things get really bad, I can remind myself don’t matter. That, at least, limits the anxiety of abandoning them. I have my work and that gets me through the day, but outside of those hours I need other things to pull me through. I can paint and read and they’re involving, for sure, but they don’t tend to have the sense of completion that I get from a simple puzzle. Jigsaws, sudoku, word searches, videogames; these all make up part of it but oddly enough it’s crosswords that have taken over my mind. It started because they weren’t too taxing and if I was pushed to cheat then it didn’t really matter. They let me say things like,
“Right, I’ll do 9 across while on the toilet and that’s it.”
Like most things I put my mind to, I quickly turned the hobby into an obsessive pursuit of completion. The harder they were, the better. If I had to watch a film, read a book, or even visit a real-life location to get an answer, I would. And I credited it all with pushing me out of my comfort zone in order to experience new things. I would have never watched Breakfast at Tiffanies, read Little Women, or visited the London Museum of Natural History without needing to get answers from them. And they were all new experiences for me, some better than others, but I enjoyed the feeling of expanding my little bubble with each new puzzle.
Crosswords, like everything, have communities surrounding them and I even found a few friends online. For some, the compulsion to get obscure answers was a vital lifeline to the outside world, and you’d be surprised at some of the cultures lurking at the fringe. A good crossword is more than just a puzzle, it’s a curated string of experiences picked to evoke a deliberate journey. A common example might be the kind of thing some tourists could use to guide them around a city:
Below the Phoenix of a Blinded Saint, 8 down.
Resurgam – the answer can be found carved on a stone beneath a statue of a phoenix at St Paul’s Cathedral. But what about something like the following:
The final song of a thunderous singer, 5 across.
The answer was Toxic, the final song lip-synced by a Drag Queen (Daytona Thunder) at a popular club in Manchester. I went a long way for that one and had a surprisingly good night, albeit one a little outside my wheelhouse. But still, I got the answer and it wasn’t like I’d find it just by reading the forums (posting answers is a big no-no if you want to get into the best clubs). The creator was a well-known Queer academic working out of London who has a popular following in the community. I appreciated their work but perhaps not as much as those by one anonymous Berliner.
A companion’s lips tasted through the looking glass, 6 across.
Her name was Alice and she was an escort for an agency called Intimate Companions. She was wearing Cherry lip gloss, something I found through a process of elimination.
Over the last few years I’ve discovered more about myself than I ever would have at home. I have learned that I can lie very well, that when I know who I am meant to be, who others want me to be, I can be confident and even charming. I have learned that I am not a jealous person, that I am not a vain person, and that there are times when I can be as reckless and adventurous as anyone else. I just need a reason to, a job to complete with routes to success I understand.
The name of a one-eyed watchmen’s gun, 12 across.
There was a policeman—with two eyes, I might add, but the unfortunate Christian name of Dick—and the answer was the serial number of his gun, converted to letters. That was an odd one, but absolutely invigorating. The crossword had been made with clearly defined geographical boundaries which helped (many of us attended it as a communal event although I largely acted alone), and for a moment I almost thought the policeman was in on the game. Right up until he tried to shoot me.
Like I said, the experiences can be invigorating.
But the good ones, the really good ones, they can be a struggle to find. You have to be accepted into the right groups, often you’ll be vetted, even tested, but the reward can be worth it. I’ll never forget the day I had a hand-delivered envelope deposited at my doorstep and the anticipation I felt opening it, unknotting the brown twine so delicately tied around the heft. God, some of them even had wax seals. I liked those the most. I found the violet and crimson seals delicious to look at.
But they were so, so much more than simple puzzles.
A principled affair, 5 down.
The headmaster of the local school was having an affair with her sister-in-law, Sarah. It was hard to find that out. It wasn’t exactly public knowledge. Frankly, I had to resort to stalking and it wasn’t a good look, but it was a new experience nonetheless and the few times I nearly got caught were quite exhilarating. But what was truly amazing was that this was at the school just a few blocks from my house! You have to understand, it wasn’t just a template handed out to everyone. I still don’t know how big any of these communities really are but I imagine they’re quite small and involve people from all over the world. It was truly remarkable to think someone had laboured over a tailor-made puzzle just for me.
There are quite a few groups I belong to now. Some aren’t even organised online, instead requiring that you ferret them out, sometimes as clues in other puzzles, sometimes as their own elaborate games. But there are always more to be found and in the best circumstances, they find you, choosing you out of all the people in the world to rise to the challenge at hand. The right ones will push you to do things you never thought possible.
A baker’s jewels, 7 down.
Harriet Baker who died in 2012 at the age of 86 and was buried with an emerald necklace in the local graveyard. I still have it, kept away somewhere in a special drawer along with news clippings of the crime. It even has some of the soil from the grave still muddying its shimmering gems, and admittedly they do still smell a bit. But I bet that I know something most people don’t, and that’s what happens to little old Grandma five years after being sealed up in a box beneath the Earth. Not just the abstract, either. I know the specifics, I know exactly what she looks like, smells like, and even what her cold lumpen flesh feels like. I spent years as a child wondering what happened to the many relatives of mine who passed away, but it was an adult I finally found the answer.
People have lived their whole lives looking down on me. Teachers assumed I was slow at learning, my parents mourned that I cared more about organising my wargaming miniatures than I ever did about girls or friends, everyone around me treated me like I was a timid mouse in a world of thundering giants. But I’ve lived a more exciting life than they could ever imagine, and it hasn’t been in spite of who I am. Only someone like me could pursue these clues to such dogged ends and I gladly take the bad with the good.
The colour of the tea plates served by the Biellier Historical Society, 9 up.
Don’t let the name fool you. The Society is a private organisation for some rather unusual gentlemen who serve tea after their annual conference is finished. Crazy bastards, I can see why they need a drink once they’re finished and I’m not surprised half of them didn’t take a seat during refreshments. I’m just not sure I’ll ever look be able to look a farm animal in the eye again.
Oh, and turquoise, by the way. That was the answer.
I know things very few people know. That’s a rare privilege and, like I said, it comes with a price. It would be ridiculous to think one might look upon the fraying edges of our world without having to face some uncomfortable sights. And you might think the worst of it is a leather-bound orgy in a dungeon or perversions you can safely find on Wikipedia, but there are other lingering truths buried in the Earth and I am one of the few who have seen them. There is always more to learn, always another word to find, another puzzle to complete. And I have come a long way in my education since I first received that letter on my doorstep years ago.
The inheritor of Maeson’s oldest home, 6 down.
Albert. Albert was the named inheritor of the first house built and designed by obscure architect Harold Maeson. It was not, as almost everyone first expected, the current owner’s first born son named Alexander, but instead the old man’s male sexual interest Albert who was a rather unwilling 17 year old. Perhaps the old man thought it made up for his actions towards the boy he had kept around as a family friend for years, disguising his abuse as mentorship. Either way it caused a tremendous uproar and poor Albert wasn’t exactly thrilled to have his face all over the papers. No one could have possibly known he would be the inheritor. The will was written up in total secrecy, something I spent considerable resources finding out.
Credit where it’s due, the old man put up a fight but his death was the only way I would get my answer. I can’t speak for others, but I found the experience quite a revelation. I felt as if I’d learned profound hidden knowledge, a truth about reality found in the glassy bloodshot eyes of a man violently dying. There’s something in there, you know, something that lies just beneath our own reality. I saw a glimmer of it that night, just like I had so many others before it. It’s quite beautiful, a confusing glittering mess of contradictions and unknowable madness. It is, by definition beyond our ability to every truly know but you can still see facets of it, one bit at a time.
It’s beautiful. But… well, it’s not always so painless.
The missing piglet counted right to left, 5 up.
Eight. That was the answer. I spent all night researching fairy tales and children’s rhymes only to fall asleep at my desk sometime around 2 in the morning. When I awoke I had been moved to the sofa and my left foot was raised on the armrest and bandaged heavily. The whole tingled from anaesthesia and it wouldn’t be until noon before I could walk on it again. Anxiously, I undid the white swaddle of blood-tinged gauze and winced at the sight of my mutilated foot. The middle toe on my left foot had been amputated cleanly, the wound sewn up neatly like a cross-stitched grin. Counting right to left, I noticed it was the eighth toe missing and I have to admit I pumped my fist in the air and rejoiced at having the answer.
But the experience caught me off guard, and it might not surprise you to know that I have since looked into slowing down and maybe even taking a short break from this hobby. I’ve had to manage these tendencies in the past and I suppose this one should be no different. But there have been some difficulties. For one thing, they won’t stop sending new puzzles to me and it’s all but impossible for me to ignore them. And for another, the clues are becoming increasingly pointed.
A sea of white and flakes of gold to flood a castle of ivory, 6 down.
Cereal, right? That’s what I thought, at least until I had the unpleasant surprise of discovering a needle hidden in my cornflakes. That, it turned out, was the correct answer and I was lucky to catch it before it wound up anywhere near my mouth. The thought of that thing sliding down my throat or catching in the roof of my mouth, spearing the gum and cartilage, left me riddled with an ever-growing anxiety. Clubs have pushed things in the past, boundaries take a backseat when it comes to pursuing the absolute limit of knowledge. But it felt like such an odd inclusion for the latest puzzle, one that didn’t necessarily teach me anything. If I had the ability to trace it to a single group I might have a better sense of what it was meant to mean, but then again anonymity was always kind of the point.
The currency of a strategic withdrawal, 3 up.
I initially thought of the military, but in fact the answer was Yen and it turned out that around £50,000 worth of them had been withdrawn from my account (by myself, somehow) at the bank. God knows how that was possible, but it happened and there’s not a lot I could really do about it. I’ve written to some of the groups but as far as I can tell they’re playing coy.
I am sorry, one replied. But our puzzles are sent out as part of a weekly newsletter via e-mail. We’re not sure we’ve ever offered bespoke crosswords but we’d be fascinated to hear more if there’s anyone out there who does. It’d interest quite a few of our members, myself included.
I received similar variations to this message from just about every organisation I had listed in my ledger and frankly I found the suggestion ridiculous. I’d always assumed those newsletters were part of a front, making it appear as though the focus was on banal little puzzles about obscure military defeats while secretly directing us to brothels and illegal casinos. It made sense, perhaps, that they would maintain the ruse but an acquaintance I called wasn’t exactly reassuring.
“Well of course they’re a front,” he said. “Don’t you get the packages? I’ve had a few seedy adventures with those!”
“Oh that’s good!” I laughed while breathing a deep sigh of relief. “I was beginning to think… well, I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
“Oh yes the packages are very real,” he replied. “The Spring edition was quite a naughty affair, don’t you think?”
“Invigorating,” I smiled. “I didn’t even know where to buy a burlap sa—”
“Strawberry!? Can you imagine? The Mrs and I had a delight trying out the different flavours.”
“What?”
“Oh come now man, no need to be shy. It’s quite normal to use… lubricant,” he whispered it like a dirty secret. “Agnes suggested we try it on toast!” I hung up with his laughter still bellowing down the other line. My Spring edition of our shared club was not anything like his. I told myself that it made sense it wouldn’t, they were meant to be custom made for each participant, but it alarmed me to hear that his activities were so dreadfully banal. Most of the clues in that edition had directed me to the consumption of a range of meats including something I scraped off the side of a suspension bridge.
Nothing my friend had said to me rang true. Rightly, I should have stopped there. But… but the thing is… it was never really an option, not then and not now. I’m sure you think it’s a silly compulsion or anxiety but it’s not. I can’t do it. It’s simply not in my nature especially not now I know that God-knows-what could be lurking around the corner. I’ve explained this to myself and others before – I am task focused. I needed to finish the job at hand.
PO Box 19777, open it from within, 9 down.
I found the box with ease but there was no key nor any means to open it from within. Whatever the rationale was behind the puzzle, I thought at the time that the whole affair was beginning to frustrate me. I didn’t see any significant challenge to tracing the address, aside from finding the key which, it would turn out, was very much part of the clue. In fact, I’m still not entirely sure how they did it. I awoke to a sort of gagging sensation one night, dreaming that I had swallowed a tangle of wet hair. Only the terrible retching sensation wasn’t entirely dreamed up. Tied to my canine was a line of floss that I painfully had to pull up from my stomach. It was unnecessarily long, spooling out of my throat in a bloody tangle for a good few metres while I vomited and cried from the struggle. It took nearly half an hour to inch it out while I choked and retched but eventually I regurgitated the key, collapsing afterwards to the floor to heave and sob as I recovered.
There was a teddy bear in the locker and I didn’t find it particularly amusing. And, yes, okay, there was a mild satisfaction to getting the answer, but the rest of me was filled with a deep begrudging. I felt like the punchline to a joke that wasn’t funny.
A starry orchid’s window of choice, 7 down.
The answer was eyeball, and it turns out the consumption of the flower in question causes bloody secretions from the tear ducts, not to mention renal failure. It wasn’t easy to explain that one away, and I didn’t much appreciate the stay at a hospital. The price for that answer may one day be dialysis, but for now I hope that I may still see myself clear of such things. The doctors couldn’t say for sure what the chances were. At the very least I hoped that I might find some respite while interred in a hospital bed, but if anything it made things worse. I was not prepared to be incapacitated for so long with the knowledge that the puzzle was but one clue from completion.
I was itching furiously for the last few days, and my doctors were confounded by the state of my heart and were blind to the other tell-tale signs of anxiety. There would be no rest for me until I had finished the puzzle and I swore to myself, swore blind on my mother’s grave, that it would be the last. If things got much worse, I reminded myself, it might not be me who decides what will be my last puzzle.
When I arrived home it was with the kind of relief I never thought possible. I am forever learning more about myself and those first few steps through the front door made it clear to me I was in the thrall of some kind of addiction. No matter what the price was, I told myself over and over again that I would pay it and move on. I would change addresses if I had to or pay someone to physically slap the damn pencil out of my hand if I went to complete another crossword! God knows I have the money.
I will climb this final hurdle, I told myself, and see it through.
And yet… I don’t know. I half-expect there to be some ghoulish double-entendre hiding in the words but for the life of me I cannot see one. It seems more like a hideous joke - one I don’t really understand. I have a possible word choice and it certainly fits but… It’s been weeks and I can’t bring myself to write it in. This is the final clue! The final step at the end of this increasingly desperate adventure and I can’t figure it out. I’m half-tempted to say that I won’t see another answer because I don’t want to finish it. That might be it, surely? I’m an addict. I’ll admit that all too readily and this wouldn’t be the first time I took things too far. It’s just…
The handwriting these clues have been written in, 4 down.
I keep expecting some terrible interpretation to come true, to find a severed hand by my door, or to awake missing most of my fingers. It’s a strange thing but I have come to find myself ruminating often on the look in the old man’s eyes. For while I am sure that I saw something terrible and beautiful deep within the popping veins of those suffocating retinas, it had not occurred to me until now that something was looking back.
And it’s waiting for me to write in the final answer, though God knows it must be wrong for it simply cannot be possible that the answer is ‘mine’.

About 2 months worth of sessions happened before this particular player joined my game but she has been taking really great summary notes and recently sent them to me. Not all of the info is correct/names of people places spelled wrong but it’s really cool to see my players perception of what’s going on. She was absent for the last two sessions so she took notes based on word of mouth so some of those events aren’t necessarily in chronological order. It’s a long read and it might be hard to keep track of but I hope you enjoy it!
Session 1 (Oct 6th) Kit was the huntress of Queen Briand/Castle Holbrook—the queen adopted a young girl named Draya who doesn’t seem to age, even as the Queen sickens and becomes unresponsive. She’s been fleeing for a month from Castle Holbrook after witnessing horrible cult sacrifice led by Draya, pursued by hooded figures that seem immune to arrows. She’s met on the road by blue dragonborn (Saar), person dressed like a scarecrow (Skully), female aasimar in platemail (Marikiel), red tiefling in Emerald Sky Academy uniform (Neiros), tabaxi (Tazak), human bard (Robinson—I don’t think you ever met him, Chris) and a sad-looking horse (Saponlloe/Palloeson), plus a regal-looking man in merchant clothing (Gabriel) and his assorted guards. Kit blurts out the story to the group and asks them if they can help her get to Bell’s Ring for help from the wizards of the Academy. Gabriel knows Queen Briand and Draya, tells us they are coming to Bell’s Ring in about a month for a political retreat and meeting of allies. We camp on the road, notice a hooded figure with a gold fanged mask plus 9 others watching us. Their feet don’t touch the ground, and he can either see through Neiros’ invisibility or sense him by smell. Saponlloe pulls out an amulet that produces sunlight, which seems to burn them. They advance, we run to the town. Kit falls asleep in the back of their wagon, and we get to the city, where Gabriel shows a medallion to the guard for entrance and Kit is placed in the Stockade/barracks for her protection. Saponlloe reveals that he is a druid able to transform into a horse and stays with her because he feels his story is somehow connected to hers, even though he can’t remember much. The others go to the cathedral of Vertis and a library, and Robinson and Neiros stay at a different inn.
Session 2 (Oct 13th)
The Stockade is attacked during the night—the torches gutter out, the guards outside the door and right inside are slaughtered by something invisible/shadowy and the doors open on their own. A figure with a golden mask enters Kit’s locked room and recognizes Saponlloe but calls him Palloeson (“do you still feel the guilt of Reda/Retta?”), tells Kit “I won’t let you harm Draya!” and attacks, transporting the two of us to some sort of shadow realm for a round of combat. The other attackers overwhelm the guards, and even make some of the dead come back to life and fight. Tessa enters the Stockade midway through the battle and helps. After some combat, a winged demon figure with a sun emblem on his belt appears, admonishes Guilt/Corona Albright (gold mask) that this wasn’t part of the plan, and portals the two of them away to a view of a dark sky and a palisade wall, although we hold onto his mask. Marikiel is killed, Taz badly wounded and left at the cathedral to recover. Tessa tells us of her vision and her intent to join the party. Skully has a spotty memory of the letters “A_L_U_D_C_R_U_M” in some order or combination connected to his past. Saponlloe/Palloeson tells me of Reda, a young man/”Blessed One” whose murder he witnessed, and he remembers the name “Alucard” and some sort of blood moon in connection with the murder somehow with Skully’s clue. Saar collects Marikiel’s body and tells us of his plan to bring her back.
Session 3 (Oct 20th)
Saar knows of Sigmaris, a fabled city to the north where the dead can sometimes be brought back to life, and he plans to take Marikiel there. Tensions are heightened in the city, but we head to the bazaar to buy rations and warm clothes to head north. The tailor tells us of white-skinned elf living in the woods who could be a guide for us (Aedris). The gates are guarded, so Skully leads us out of the city through the sewers. We find Aedris in the woods; he tells us that his whole clan was slaughtered by someone named Rage leading the orcs/beastmen and he wants revenge in exchange for his help. We head to a nearby monastery for advice; leader tells us to try the White Drake Academy to the northwest. We travel 3 days with no interruptions, see a sign on the fourth day warning us of “greenskins” and pointing to Northshore (N), Morioh/Eagle’s Rest/White Drake Academy (W) and keep going west. We’re attacked by a group of goblins/orcs on the fifth day, and Taz is killed, but we get info from a survivor that they recognize the gold mask. Rage has one, and she now rules Baelsergo, the city of beasts to the north, and the Blood Drinkers (symbol on the orc clothing). So now we have RAGE (Aedris’ enemy), GUILT (Corona), and FEAR (Draya) connected with golden masks. We travel to the town of Morioh and sell some loot. Kit goes to the temple of Velen to search for answers, gets a vision of a dark sun from the statue at the altar. Skully and Palloeson have some more info on their amulets being keys to the Temple of the Sunwalker, somehow connected to the druids of the Dawnfire Archipelago and their enemies (evil bat druids), and the name Alucard Cruorem, who took something from the good druids. ALUCARD = Gabriel, who they were traveling with at the beginning!
Session 4 (Oct 27th)
( was only here for the last hour and a half or so, so I don’t know what happened in detail at the beginning of the session with the circus and such) We get to Eagles’ Rest. People from the party visit a circus where a woman named Belona throws herself on spikes and isn’t hurt by them. They somehow see her golden mask and decide to assassinate her because of her assumed connections to the other golden-masked figures. Something about her triggers Palloeson’s memory, and then he connects with a woman named Sara, who breeds horses, and spends time with her outside the city. Saar has reservations on killing Belona, but casts Detect Evil and is staggered by the sheer force of evil and tormented souls around her. A plan is made to silver the spikes she falls on and try to kill her. Saar sees the image of Vestis watching them in the crowd, a serial killer they killed earlier in the campaign—he puts on a golden mask and disappears. Aedris is the only one at the circus to observe, since Vestis won’t know him. Belona falls on the spikes and transforms into some immense terrible demon and murders most people in the tent, but Sara the horse breeder transforms into some sort of bright moon goddess and fights it, and they chase each other away over the hills. The party runs to the docks, steals a ship, and sails for the academy, bringing the bodies of Mary and Taz. We have to leave Tessa and Robinson behind. RAGE = Belona
Session 5 (Nov 3rd)
We sail to the peninsula with the Academy and Neiros goes off to talk to his grandmother. We know Vestis is a golden mask now, but we don’t know what corresponding emotion it is. Most of us head to the library for research, and Saar finds the Tomes of Understanding he’s been searching for. Skully finds info on the amulets and the druids of the Dawnfire Archipelago/Celestial Isles (Hircine people = eleves loyal to the god of the sun, drow = elves loyal to the god of the moon). Kit researches the next eclipse, and talks to a professor about the Celestial Isles, the druids of the Dawnfire Archipelago, and their Ritual of Ascension (meet a spirit animal in their dreams to become druids). He doesn’t know anything about the Temple of the Sunwalker or evil blood druids. We stay for a long time to let Saar and Scully read the first Tome, and Skully learns about his previous life that he can’t remember. Tessa catches up and shows us her new tattoos, which are part of the ones she had in her vision, and tells us just a bit about Galadia and her sword/her backstory. We overhear that Eagles’ Rest has requested help from the Academy against the Blood Drinkers. Palloeson communes with the Briar King and now has formidable power and a thorn-wrapped arm with a pool of blackness in his palm. We are teleported to Northshore, the closest teleport option to Sigmaris. Skully talks the lady blacksmith into silvering our weapons. We decide to camp outside after the inn owner is racist to Saar, but the orc force attacks in the night.
Session 6 (Nov 10th)
The soldiers of Northshore are heavily outnumbered; Saar, Aedris and Palloeson rush in to help, Kit follows at a distance. Skully sneaks in to get some of our weapons back and get civilians out. The three party members are knocked unconscious and taken away by a giant lizard to the NE as the townsfolk are rounded up and told to go about their business under new beastman rule. Kit runs back and tells the other of the kidnapping, they meet up with Skully, and they track them NE. The three are taken to Baelsergo and imprisoned, and the amulet is taken to Rage. Palloeson escapes, confronts Rage, and is killed. We pull off an escape plan for the rest, and get out into the woods, crossing rivers to throw off the scent.
Session 7 (Nov 17th)
We keep heading north to flee, and then realize that our plan to get to Sigmaris is foolish, especially since we no longer have the bodies of Mary and Taz. So we change course to Caspia to get Tessa where she needs to go. Skully tells us everything he learned from the Tome and that the mask and the amulet is somehow what made him a skeleton person. His name used to be Aethis, he knew Palloeson as a member of a druid council, Skully didn’t get in, and they trained and did bad things. He knew the people who are now the golden masks (Alucard = Gabriel Mercrow, FEAR = Draya Braves, GUILT = Corona Albright, RAGE = Belona, MISERY = Dresden Nabacroft, APATHY = Vestis). The area they were, the Hirstfall Islands, was hit with a plague and Gabriel’s family died, and he is mad because the islands were blockaded and he thinks that’s why they died--revenge?. We reach the Great Lake and see kobold settlements around it, build a boat, and set sail. We are stopped by Thoss the black dragon and talk our way past him, but then find out Vestis is following us. We call Thoss to help, Vestis fights him and both are badly hurt. Vestis flees and the party kills Thoss but Skully dies in the process.
Session 8 (Nov 24th)
We loot Thoss’ hoard and lay Skully and Palloeson to rest, but keep Skully’s skull and Palloeson’s briar arm and hair just in case. Vestis is back to following us and tells us that Gabriel is coming to get the amulet in 5 days, so we should just give it up. We decide to head for Caspia and head into a series of caves back towards Northshore (with some kobolds in tow), but are attacked by a roper and brains on legs. We win the fight and press on.
Session 9 (Dec 1st): first session when I am in VT and unable to play
The party makes it back to the town controlled by beasts, does some shopping, and meets with Alucard/Gabriel. They agree to give him the amulet if he shows them what he is planning with the three of them and then leaves us alone. Neiros and Saar get tattoos using the ashes of Palloeson and Skully. The group sets sail towards the Dawnfire Archipelago with Alucard. Draya torments Kit alon g the way until Tessa intercedes. Our boat is boarded by a slave trader, and we discover that Saar has been framed and is wanted for slave trading. We win the ensuing battle and take the leader’s boat, then sail to the Dawn Fire islands with Alucard’s group, fighting some elves who think we are the slavers (thus becoming the villains). The trip takes a week, and we eventually reach an island with a culture of elves. The grandmother of Erny’s new character (El o’El? Am I spelling this right?) thought it was the goddess Lunarra the whole time (whole culture deceived by Kil’Jaeden), and cannot believe they have been misled, so she sends him with us to undone what has been done.
Dec. 8th (2nd session away)
It takes three days to reach the tower from the island, a whole day for the party and Alucard’s group to climb to the top of the tower in the Dawnfire Archipelago and another day for part of the group to make their way back down into “the prison not meant to be seen”. Kit, Nieros, Tessa, stay at the top of the tower, and then go back down to hunt for some provisions. Aedris, inside the tower, finds a portal at the bottom and vanishes into the Feywild, taking the rest of the inside group with him. Gabriel and his group take the crown and bracers they were seeking and disappear, but these items were what held the prisoner in place, and he is freed. It turns out to be Kil’Jaeden, the Great Deceiver, and he is released upon the Feywild, his form that of a monstrous naga/yuan’ti. The toweportal sinks into the ground and disappears, leaving the rest of the group back at ground level fighting other snake-like creatures drawn by Kil’Jaeden’s release. We travel to Caspia by boat, with the trip taking 16 days total. The group planned to lie about being the owners of the slavery contract and have members of the crew pretend to be slaves, but thought better of it and told their guards the truth, probably saving their own lives. Tessa travels to the Hall of Contracts and writes a message to her father, who seems overjoyed to know she is back and tells her to wait for him at a fancy hotel suite. Tessa also discovers that the place she needs to visit for the next step of her journey is a tomb in the common district. The session ended with Kit, Tessa, Saar, Raymond (Travis’ new character), and Nieros in a posh hotel room in Caspia, waiting to meet Tessa’s father, and Erny’s character and Aedris off by themselves in the shopping district. They think that Tessa is in danger from her father and don’t want any part of it. (Kil’Jaeden has been out for 17 days. We know through Kit’s research at the Academy that the next eclipse, the vision of the dark sun that Tessa and Kit have both seen, is about a year away).
Dec. 15th In the back room of the Golden Sun, Tessa, Kit, Saar, Raymond, and Nieros decide to go out and do some shopping/explore the city while waiting for Tessa’s father to travel the seven days from Zweilkhad to Zanarkand to reach them. Tessa and Kit go to Latheos the clothing merchant for new, less-conspicuous outfits; loose white robes with hoods in fine material. Kit, as a paler-skinned human, stands out somewhat in Caspia, so she covers up and tries to avoid notice. Kit and Tessa also travel to the Sandy Shards weaponry shop, where Tessa translates for Kit and we buy crossbow bolts for the crossbow taken from Thoss’ hoard. Kit also spots an intricate longbow made from some flexible metallic material, which proves to be designed to take strain off of the drawer and allow for greater accuracy and damage (+1).Raymond the mercenary buys manacles, Kit buys some Caspian gold bead and jewelry, Aedris buys a new brush for Bazul, and we buy a bunch of health potions as a group from a red-skinned tiefling owner of the Fire & Fury. Shopping episode! The tiefling is teaching some children in Caspian, but Nieros and Tessa translate and we learn he is teaching a class on rudimentary elements of magic and the danger of pact bargains. Aedris is badly affected by the heat of Caspia, but borrows Raymond’s ice spear to cool himself down. He also brings most of the money looted from Thoss’ hoard to the Hall of Gold bank and creates an account/changes some into platinum for carrying ease. The group walks to the Housing District to find the statue that Tessa needs to see, but are approached by two women in gauzy purple and blue clothes asking for a good time. They hang on Aedris, Nieros, and Raymond. Raymond shoos them away, but they discovered a good portion of their gold missing. Nieros attempts to search for them, but they disappear into the crowd. When we reach the statue, it depicts a man pointing a sword missing its point to the west and slightly south (the statue of Stormscale was pointing out over the ocean to the north). Around the base of the statue a building has been put up, which appears to be some sort of small house and church meeting place. An old woman is inside, and she invites us in after Tessa explains she is on a pilgrimage as a follower of Bahamut. We head in to allow Tessa to read some historical scrolls and search the base of the statue. The scrolls have some obviously redacted/missing sections, and no mentions of Bahamut (Zanarkand is devout to Ifrit) but we learn this is a statue to Abdul Jakar, an ordinary man who led a rebellion, and he is buried in Bela Cruz. Nothing turns up on our search of the statue. Kit asks Tessa to teach her some useful Caspian phrases in our downtime, and she also finds a phrasebook in a local bookstore. The group deposits the rest of our funds into the bank in a joint account. Two members must be present to make transactions, and if no transactions are made after 5 years, they will presume the group is all dead and take the money. Nieros has a new fancy set of clothing designed. Saar and Nieros head to the Court of Ambassadors, a giant library, and Saar tries to find books on ritual magic, but instead they meet Ignis Fireseeker, the High Judge of Caspia, a huge, buff man with arrow tattoos around his eyes and a golden insignia on his belt. He tells them that the female pickpockets work for Betra’s Serpents, an immensely powerful master assassin conclave. Ignis tells them that there is a contract/bounty (50,000 g each) for them , but warns of the likelihood of death if they take it. There are rumors that the bar Caspian Nights is being used as a hideout, and their leader is The Fang. When they tell the rest of the group, Tessa reacts to the name Ignis. We name the group The Silver Dawn, and come up with nicknames, then timeskip to Tessa’ father arriving. We are escorted out of the hotel by 20 Juda-Fen (high ranking soldiers, white-skinned tieflings with gray blindfolds), then meet his caravans outside the city. Domina Highland is a tiefling with skin that is red, bordering on slighty purple, in a fancy overcoat and gold jewelry. He greets Tessa warmly, glad to see her back, and then we go as a group to meet the Emperor Tur’Koatl. The palace is immense, and the Emperor sits on a flame-shaped throne as we approach, bowing. We introduce ourselves, and he interacts with us as we do: tells Nieros that he knew of his grandmother, makes comments on Tiamat when Saar speaks, informs Kit that Caspia is at war with Ivalice, and calls Tessa “The Whore”, although Domina Highland tries to stop him. We tell him the details of Kil Jaeden’s release, and he seems pleased that Tessa told him before telling her father. He takes it as good news, and takes us on a tour around the city to greet his people. Raymond plays Kingdoms/Cappicho against the Emperor, a game that is like a combo of chess and checkers, and does quite well for a beginner. The Emperor chastises Tessa for assuming he didn’t already have the information when she attempts to explain/tell him of the danger, so she falls silent. Kit asks more about the war with Ivalice, and gets the same treatment: a bit more info (closed borders, no trade, stolen caravans), but then a reprimand. We get back to the caravans speak with Tessa’s father. She learns from him that Galadia was killed by the Serpents, hired by the Abysswaters because she spurned the marriage that had been arranged between Tessa and their son. They are the ones the sarted “The Whore”, but her mother and older sister played into it. He also tells us that he has spies in Ivalice, and Holbrook has allied itself with the two other major cities, which is strange, because they are usually sworn enemies. He also informs Kit that Queen Briand has recently passed and Draya is fully in charge. Kit passes over the information of her cult. Tessa tries to negotiate with her father over retrieving Thoss’ treasure, and we ask for the ship to be repaired/renamed
Note: if people are interested I can try to keep this going with updates. Also I’m not sure if my player who took these notes is a reddit user. If she is I will eventually give her credit for the note taking.
Edit: added Dec 15 session notes.
Edit: Add new session notes.
Dec. 22nd The group travels on the caravan towards Tessa’s home, but midway we pass a woman on the road and allow her to join the caravan (Esmeralda). We pass by a signpost with Belacruz scratched out. Several of us are startled as we notice that the caravan has suddenly shifted from three carts to two, people have shifted in looks/age, and we appear to be in some sort of timeshift. Some of the party members do not notice, or believe that everything is normal. A younger Emperor Ter’Koatl is onboard (approximately 10-15 years younger), and Tessa has become Abdul Jakar, the Chosen of Bahamut. Tessa warns Kit to not interrupt anything, but just to watch and listen to everything around us. We travel to Abdul Jakar’s village, where we are greeted warmly and a great feast is prepared. Tessa keeps up the charade of being Abdul. We are attacked at the feast by a large group of warforged. Abdul’s wife and child are slain, and just as a creature is about to kill the Emperor, Tessa/Abdul leaps in front of the blast and saves him. We suddenly pop back to our original reality, only Tessa has a new set of tattoos and is sobbing hysterically. Only some of the party are able to remember what happened. We reach the Highland home, and Tessa must greet her mother and sister, who are acidic and unwelcoming. Lissandra blames Tessa for her childish behavior and running away from home, forcing her to marry Stega’Agar of the Abysswater family and take on more family duties. Tessa apologizes, but Lissandra and her mother are unmoved. We are given rooms in the Highland’s household. The group splits up for the night, with Tessa, Kit, and Saar going to the Casino with Tessa’s father and the rest going to the library of the Highlands to do some research. The Casino group plays a few rounds of a blackjack-based game, on Domina Highland’s tab, until a strange woman comes over and offers us a bigger gamble. She pulls out a deck of cards, and tells us that if we can pull one certain card from the deck, she will pay us handsomely. Saar draws a card from the deck and gains 50,000 exp and a magical iron flask. The woman pulls a card and she and the deck pop out of existence. Tessa and Kit drink at the Casino until it is time to go home. We run into the library group, and Saar finds out that the flask is magical from Nieros. He then opens it, and a giant creature made of fire pours out, until Saar convinces it to get back into the flask. Raymond, Elowells, and Nieros stuff a bunch of books into Aedris’ bag of holding. Dec. 29th The party gathers in the Highland home the next morning and discusses the need to visit the dwarves and Draconia, and how to release Lunara from her imprisonment in the Black Temple, Kil Jaeden’s plane. We did find a book with a spell that can bring us to the Black Temple, but we are not yet a high enough level to cast it. Aedris begins to examine the six magical books that he, Saar, and Nieros grabbed from the Highland library. Saar prays to his goddess, and an eagle lands in his window and then flies off to the west. Through her hangover, Kit prays to Velen for strength and guidance. Tessa joins morning prayers with her family, and while her father is pleased to see her, her mother and sister are not. She learns that Lissandra will be marrying Stega’Agar in approximately 2 months/7 moon cycles, and that this marriage will help solidify business dealings between the two families. The party heads to the Nine Hells Academy to do some research, 2 families away from the Highland estate, a massive building of jet black stone with a sharp, jagged appearance. The library is staffed by Transmuted Horrors, twisted masses of flesh and human body parts created by Domina Experiyankas as servants. Raymond develops a permanent fear of them. While at the library, Saar researches Kil Jaeden’s plane, the Black Temple. After the God Wars the gods all chose to stay in their own planes as an act of neutrality. Saar intuits that Kil Jaeden probably switched places with Lunara somehow, willing to bide his time in the Feywild to have someone release him. Using this method, he could avoid the gods detecting him as he entered the Material Plane through the Maelstrom, breaking that neutrality. This means that Lunara truly is trapped, since gods cannot willingly leave another god’s plane. He also learns that the plane is inhabited mostly by yuan-ti and lost souls, and the Temple itself is guarded by a hydra. Kit researches Velen’s beginning and tenets—Velen and his brother Virtus were part of an adventuring party (including Dhal Ul, Leolothwyn, Perthamal, Shallisara, Drasta Stormscale, Agnizarro) who helped out in the chaos before the God Wars and rose to fame and glory. Somehow the two brothers ascended to godhood after slaying Neshrac, although the process is unknown. The group leaves the library and goes to buy some magical items (at a shop next to the smithy where Galadia worked), including a cloak of fear for Aedris. He decides to test it as we leave the shop, catching Eloells unaware and causing him to shoot a Transmuted Horror in his confusion. Bystanders cry out at the incident, and the party scatters in fear. Several party members duck into alleys, but Saar and Aedris attempt to rush past some guards and are captured and brought to the Hall of Justice. Tessa, back at the shop, explains what occurred to a guard, then goes off to find her father to speak on behalf of the prisoners. We are all brought before the High Judge, Domina Justicar. We are ordered to pay 40,000 gold (10,000 for attacking a guard and 10,000 per soul for the three souls needed to make another Transmuted Horror). We take 10,000 gold out of the bank and Domina Highland pays the other 30,000 in exchange for a 90% share of Thoss’ hoard. Tessa parts on worse terms with her family than when we started, and we walk the 16 days back to Zanarkand. We pass a caravan full of caged animals on the way, and Saar learns that the creature in the flask he received can grant three wishes, but accidentally wastes one wishing it back into the flask. Back in Zanarkand, Kit goes back to the weaponsmith where she bought her bow, learns that the material is called steelwood, and has it engraved with a stylized version of Velen’s shield and the word “sacrifice”. We get on our repaired boat and sail 13 days towards the islands of Arathaal (sp?). Tessa learns that there is a holy temple of Bahamut somewhere on the island. We see that the HIrstfall islands are ringed by a combined Caspian and Draconian fleet, not allowing other ships close. Saar communes with Palloeson’s soul, and it does answer his three questions about the inhabitants of the island, but it appears to release him from some sort of prison and his oily black horse form gallops towards the island. It leaves large puddles of blackness on the ship that swallow anything thrown into them and causes necromantic damage. Saar uses one wish from the djinn to wish the souls of Tazak, Marikiel, and Aethis/Skully peace, and tries to include Palloeson, but his soul does not respond. He uses the final wish to wish us capable of handling the threat that is Kil Jaeden. Kit has a vision in her seasickness of “our party” (viewing this as Velen) holding a black crystal with a red center. I stab my brother and pour his blood over the crystal, and then do the same to myself, and my vision goes to black. We make our way to the island Palloeson ran towards to find a giant black ooze where a building once stood, and some of the party follow the horse’s black hoofprints to a hill. Saar traps Palloeson in the now-empty flask, and they battle the Briar Knight and his briarbeasts, barely escaping with their lives.

In the last [History 101]...

2039

Metahuman relations had always been a hot button issue across the globe. These came to an explosive head in Seattle on February 7^th of '39 in a tragic event that became known as The Night of Rage.
To really understand the events surrounding the Night of Rage we have to take a step back and set the scene.
Seattle's Governor at the time was Victor "Vick the Quick" Allenson. Allenson, a former combat biker for the Tacoma Timberwolves, had replaced Governor Kross upon the the latter's retirement from government two years previously. Governor Allenson's campaign billed him as a "human conservative", or what you and I might call a human supremacist. In one of his earliest trideo interviews on the campaign trail he was quoted as saying "Orks and trolls make great offensive combat bikers, but they haven't got the brains for much else." Despite his outspoken views towards metahumanity he still managed to win the election of '36 in a landslide. This sparked a series of protests and sometimes even outright riots in areas of the city with high metahuman populations. Using his newly invested powers, Allenson ordered Lone Star to crack down on the protesters, rioters, and innocent metahumans alike. Unsurprisingly, the Governor's new pogroms did not restore peace to Seattle. Quite the opposite, as for almost eighteen months the city faced increasing terrorist activities from both pro-meta and anti-meta groups alike.
On February 7^th, Allenson mobilized the Seattle Metroplex Guard to round up and "protect" every metahuman they could find. Ostensibly these metahumans were being gathered in the warehouse district of Tacoma to be processed and transported to San Francisco to "improve racial harmony" in the city.
In actuality these metahumans, numbering into the thousands were ripped from their homes, escorted under armed Guard, shoved into dilapidated warehouses along the Tacoma waterfront, and left there. Before long anger and fear turned into hysteria. From one of the warehouses came the sound of screams, an eruption of gunfire, and finally a large explosion. Then more explosions, until the entire waterfront was alight with the flames. The death toll was truly staggering considering the majority of Seattle's metahumans were consolidated in those old warehouses. Many metahumans were able to escape the flames through the cities sewer system, but hundreds died in those warehouses, trapped like animals.
No one can pinpoint exactly who sparked the Night of Rage, but members of a fringe branch of (the already radicalized) Alamos 20,000 known as The Hand of Five were seen in the area just prior to the explosions.
While the waterfront burned and hundreds died the Seattle Metroplex Guard stood by and did nothing.
Once the story broke in the media violence erupted not just throughout the city, but throughout the world. We refer to these events as The Night of Rage, but in actuality the riots and protests lasted for several days, some estimate even into the weeks that followed.
Protestors, the media, and even the Seattle's own United Corporate Court all called for an investigation into the matter, the resignation of all the Governor and the Metroplex Guards that refused to act to save lives and property. The media was particularly hard on governor's administration, and even reported rumours that the Governor himself was a member of The Hand of Five. Despite these accusations and the public outcry, Allenson refused to abdicate his position.
One day earlier, on February 10^th the aforementioned radical humanis policlub Alamos 20,000 used both magical and mundane explosives to destroy the Sears Tower in one of the largest single acts of terrorism in the Sixth World. The Sears Tower came crashing down on the heads of thousands of individuals out on their lunch break. It destroyed several blocks' worth of buildings, streets and sidewalks doing untold billions in damages.
But the damage didn't stop there. Gas lines were ruptured causing the entire Loop area to go up in flames. The Second Chicago Fire was barely averted by a group of mages who managed to contain the fires within the span of an hour. The damage was still done though... by the end of it the death toll reached almost 26,000 individuals.
As if the physical damage wasn't enough Alamos 20,000 made the entire incident appear to be metahuman revenge for the Night of Rage massacre in Seattle. The corporations immediately sealed their corporate 'burbs, excluding metahumanity from their neighborhoods. With the help of City Hall they built a series of projects on the Northside to segregrate metahumanity from the rest of the city. They also built several factories in the area. Ostensibly these were to provide jobs for the displaced metahumans. In reality though they were labor camps where the populace was forced to work long hours for low wages.
The area that was destroyed by the collapse of the Sears Tower were left to rot. Those who could get out did. Those who couldn't tried to eke out a meager existence with no help from their government. All manner of human and inhuman creatures settled in the area. A large ghoul community grew within the area that became known as the Shattergraves. And the ghosts of those who died in that tragedy are said to still roam the streets.
The reason that the Sears Tower was targeted by the policlub was because IBM had acquired it several years earlier during the ASIST Boom. IBM was fairly unique in the Chicago area at the time due to their actual honest to Ghost equal-opportunity hiring practices. In a time when most orks and trolls were seen as only manual laborers, IBM was willing to hire them as programmers and project developers. It's no wonder that Alamos 20,000 saw them as the enemy.
Back in in Seattle, on February 11^th, Governor Allenson was found dead in his office from several gunshot wounds. The mystery surrounding his death was never solved. With the city in flames and the governor murdered, a special gubernatorial election was held. Political analysts of the time believed that Ivar Lindstrom, son of Seattle's first governor Charles C. Lindstrom and current mayor of downtown Seattle, would be the clear victor. Instead, the mayor of Bellevue and relatively unknown, Marliyn Schultz was elected to the position by a surprisingly large margin. Analysts claim, in hindsight, that what won the election for her was that she was one of, if not the, first city official to appeal to the United Corporate Court for aide during the Night of Rage.
Her first act as Governor was to issue an ultimatum to Lone Star; arrest the leaders of the Hand of Five or face a breach of contract lawsuit. This led to a week long manhunt that included countless raids, several shootouts, and countless arrests. This became known as the "Week of Sirens" due to the (allegedly) constant sound of police sirens throughout the city. By the end of the week all of the suspected leaders leaders of the Hand of Five were either dead or awaiting trial.
A little over a month later and on the opposite coast more terrorism reared it's ugly head. On St. Patrick's Day, just weeks after the Night of Rage, a terrorist organization identifying itself as The Knights of the Red Branch "struck a blow for Eire" by detonating a bomb in a popular elven restaurant along the parade route killing two dozen people, and injuring dozens more. The parade quickly fell to general rioting that eventually overtook the entire Boston Metroplex. Residents of different nationalities, ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds used the mayhem to strike out against their particular hated group. The civil authorities imposed martial law to quell the riots. But by the time they had achieved their goals hundreds were dead, and hundreds more were injured in the events that became known as Bloody Thursday.
The Knights of the Red Branch claimed that their attack was in revenge for the elven annexation of Ireland, and the creation of Tir na nOg. The Knights, and approximately half of the Irish descended population of Boston at the time, felt that the Sidhe had taken over their ancestral homeland and unlawfully deported lawful citizens of the country. This sentiment was echoed by the metahuman minority of orks, dwarves, trolls, and even the British Isle specific metavariant of trolls, the formorians. It was, and in some quarters still is, believed that the Sidhe wish for Tir na nOg to belong solely to the elves. With every other metatype as second class citizens. While humans are treated with outright hostility, distrust, and no legal rights as citizens.
On June 1^st Fuchi Incorporated hosted the Universal Matrix Specifications Conference in Tokyo. This conference was attended by more than 7,000 humans and metahumans to determine the basic set of standards for Matrix programming. This conference, in conjunction with Villiers' contribution by bringing the portable cyberdeck, launched Fuchi into the forefront of the Matrix Industry. A position that they maintained throughout the rest of Fuchi's "lifespan" as a AAA-rated megacorporation.
A month later on July 5^th in Charleston, South Carolina (CAS) the first case murder to be solved with the assistance of the deceased's ghost is closed by Julius Wren. Wren, a criminologist and thaumaturgist, studied the deceased's actions as a spirit and used that information to bring the serial killer to justice. The arrest and conviction were upheld in court, and Wren's testimony was granted as admissible in open court.
Sometime during the time period above, in London, there was a massive chemical speill on Teeside (aka Teesprawl, locally) that killed more than 70,000 people from nerve gas poisoning. This has widespread effects on the, currently in power, Conservationist Party. The public outcry was the beginning of the end of the Party.
This dome was the target of a terrorist organization called Pan-Europa on August 6^th. P-E released an unknown and previously only theoretical paranormal virus (paravirus) that fed upon the bio-fabric of the London Dome which was under construction at the time. This dome was designed to regulate the environmental conditions surrounding the capital and prevent the sort of poisoning that had occurred in the Teesprawl earlier in the year.
In better times this sort of terrorist action would have strengthened the resolve of the people to support a strong right-wing government like the Conservationist Party. But it came so quickly on the heels of the failure in the Teesprawl that the citizens swung in the other direction completely. The government was lambasted in the media and in the public forum for allowing the ecological situation deteriorate to the point to where the Dome had to be built in the first place. This led to the rise of the Green Party in United Kingdom politics. More on them later.
A week later on August 13^th the African nations of the Cape Republic, the Zulu Nation, Oranje-Vrysraar, and the Trans-Swazi Federation pen an accord that resulted in the creation of the Azanian Confederation. This accord created the largest and strongest industrial nation on the African continent. It was immediately recognized by the UN upon it's formation in 2040 and is an active participant in the Global SIN Registry.
On September 10^th the CAS Senate begins a series of hearings regarding charges of racial prejudice against metahumans and their families. These hearings bring to light that most metahumans living and working in the CAS were living in what amounted to slavery throughout most of the CAS. The NAN immediately issued economic sanctions against the CAS as a means to encourage the nation to reform its views of metahumanity. These sanctions are met with mixed feelings, and it is sometime yet until the metahuman standard of living met parity with the human standards.
Almost a week later on September 16^th, the Western Great Dragon Dunkelzahn met the mysterious Nadja Daviar in Paris at an Alone exhibit. She was soon thereafter selected as Dunkelzahn's newest Voice.
At the time (and even today) little was known about the Estonian elf. Her parents allegedly died during the second VITAS outbreak and she was remanded into state custody. In truth, she pretty much raised herself in the streets of a country that was, at best, indifferent to the those who were "stricken" by UGE. She officially left the state's custody in 2030 just ahead of the Russian invasion that kicked off the EuroWars. In reality she was one of many who exploited the black/grey market of the time to amass no small amount of wealth. Her particular stock in trade appeared to be smuggling throughout the region. With her natural charisma, and rumours of magical ability, she was able to escape the streets and enter into high society.
November 15^th brought with it a successful coup in the relatively newly seceded Shaanxi to install a monarchy in place of the military establishment that was in control. Queen Michelle Chou was crowned Queen of Shaanxi on this date.
Chou was half Chinese and half British, and that combination sowed the seeds of her eventual rise to power, and the form that the Shaanxi government eventually took. Chou's father was Chiangsiu Chou, an executive for China's privatized industries and descendant of the last emperor of the Qing dynasty. Her mother was Vanessa Fitzroy, a distant cousin to the Duke of Grafton. When Shaanxi seceded Party loyalist murdered Chiangsiu for allying with the new government, and Fitzroy fled back to England with her daughter in tow.
While in England, Michelle studied to become a barrister and did quite well in that field. She kept ties with several of her fathers associates that had successfully gone underground to escape the military coup. Michelle used her mothers connections to funnel support to the rebels from afar. Eventually she was able to gather enough resources and allies to overthrow the military junta and seize power of Shaanxi completely. She put her legal training to good use and drafted a constitution for the country creating a parliamentary system much like England's and other European powers. To thank her for her support and assistance the newly formed government of Shaanxi crowned her Queen.

2040

After the busy year that was 2039 it seems that major events in 2040 took awhile to start up. The first truly significant event was on April 7^th in the unlikely location of the Athabaskan Council Nation. This NAN member-state officially recognized sasquatches as a sapient species and granted them the same inalienable rights that all metahumans are entitled to in their legal system. They are one of the first nations to do so, and the only one to do so within the first half of this decade.
Throughout the spring of 2040 the Univerzita Karlova (Charles University) shifted their Arcane Studies program from a strictly hermetic training program, as was prominent throughout the world at the time, to a cross-traditional approach at the behest of one of their instructors, the Western Great Dragon Schwartzkopf. This approach to magical training garnered the University quite a bit of acclaim, and was the foundation of Schwartzkopf's Unified Theory of Magic. That's further down the line though, so we'll touch on that later.
The Middle East at this time was embroiled in a war between Iran and Iraq. The two nations were warring to come a decision as to who had the proper right to rule the Shi'ite Muslims throughout the region. The Kurds had recently declared independence to stay out of the fight, and that brought Turkey and Syria into the fray. Quite simply the Middle East was in chaos. Everyone was fighting everyone else.
This set the stage for Badr al-Din Ibn Eisa and his Islamic Unity Movement to broker a treaty between Iraq and Iran on July 18^th. This treaty guaranteed that the Kurds would remain within a newly created Iraqi Federation, and appeased Iran enough to stem the tide of war in the region. The Islamic Unity Movement became a power player in the region throughout the next decade based on this original showing.
It wasn't all beer and skittles for Iraq though. The newly formed government quickly went broke. Without funds they weren't able to keep Kurdistan from leaving the Federation three years later. But, like a shot from the blue, Saeder-Krupp Heavy Industries stepped in to assist the Iraqi Federation. Before long S-K had control of the last oil fields in the Middle East, thereby cinching their position as the dominant petroleum producing corporation in the world. This helped boost the AAA corporation to the the top of the Corporate Court due to everyone else's reliance on S-K's oil production.
Two days after the Iran-Iraq Treaty, on July 20^th, a famous mage by the name of Martin de Vries began a series of one-man vampire hunts throughout Europe. These early hunts became the basis for his eventual book Shadows at Noon, which sold roughly six million copies world wide. But it was the beginning of his semi-autobiographical "fictional" novels starring vampire hunter Darren Cross. More on Cross as de Vries later though...
Back in the Emerald City on September 10^th groundbreaking began on the Renraku Archology.
During the fall of 2040 BTL (better than life) usage skyrocketed throughout Korea. This trend continued for the rest of the year, but then suddenly changed direction due to a number of awareness programs initiated by several different groups. Chief among these groups is the Reverend Sun Myung Moon's Unification Church.
The UK's Conservationist Party took their final hit on October 15^th when ork journalists on Channel 7's "Medicine Bag" uncovered evidence that the government had encouraged the Adams-Hoffman Corporation's infamous Project 42-20. This project, sanctioned by the Conservationist Party, was a fifteen year long top secret project to manipulate the gene pool of the British populace in order to discover how to control the goblinization process. Over the period of a decade and a half the project had secretly crippled, mutilated, and generally decimated the south London housing estates. Adams-Hoffman had secretly dispersed their testing agent into crowded areas causing unexpected mutations, spontaneous abortions, the deterioration of internal organs, and the destruction of the host's immune system.
One particularly nasty transmission method was applied to Generation Epsilon/Alpha 16. The government inserted the gene-virus into free milk that they were giving out to school children!
Fifteen days after "Medicine Bag's" fateful (and final) episode the citizen of Brixton, Camberwell and New cross took to the streets and rioted. The rising tide of violence made it all the way to the Tower Bridge where the local constabulary had blockaded the bridge to protect the crossing into Adams-Hoffman's London headquarters. During the rioting nineteen people, later dubbed the Lambeth Martyrs, were killed and the Tower Bridge as well as the Thames Wharf shopping mall were badly damaged. The riots continued for several more days until the police, and eventually the military quelled the rebellion.
But the rioters went underground and came back up with automatic weapon and asymmetric terrorist tactics. The Lambeth Martyrs hit Waterloo and Victoria Stations and the Bond Street Station mall killing almost a hundred people. Several more attacks came quickly on the heels of those. The most famous of which was the infamous raid on Dulwich Village which killed seventy-four people, including an ex-prime minister.
The government declared a "medical emergency" and created the Lambeth Containment Zone, colloquially known as "the Squeeze", which arose as a countermeasure to the public's taking up of arms against the government in response to Project 42-20. The efforts of the government to restore law and order have only been partially successful, and the "state of emergency" still exists in the Squeeze to this day.
On November 6^th the UCAS elected Carl Preston to become President of the United Canadian American States while the CAS elected Joseph Alexander as President of the Confederated American States.
December 12^th the New Horizons corporation came under scrutiny for its Superkids project overseen by CEO Paul Louberge when one of the test subjects commits suicides. Investigations into the matter reveal striking similarities between Superkids and Project 42-20. Superkids however sought to genetically manipulate favorable traits into children below a certain again. This extensive genetic manipulation was only the tip of the iceberg though, as it was discovered that there was also substantial physical, mental, and emotional abuse used to punish subjects who were not performing up to New Horizons projected expectations. The Superkids project is eventually shut down later in the month.
President Elect Alexander selected several prominent metahumans for posts in his Cabinet. He used the inclusion of these metahumans as leverage to convince the NAN to lift some of its economic sanctions and provide the CAS with some much needed economic relief.
Christmas Day in a Connecticut, UCAS casino started with a bang. More precisely it ended with one. The casino, built on the site of a former Indian Reservation was hit with a magical explosion of unknown origin that destroyed a part of the building, killed eighteen people, and wounded dozens more. Eventually a group called Warpath claimed responsibility for the attack.
Only two years down and this post is already getting long. I'll do up another one of these soon and try to use up the character limit in the future so we can condense [History 101] into as few posts as possible. I only got about halfway through this one. But it's been forever, and this is a good enough start to get me back on track.

References!!!

• The Sixth World Almanac pp. 57, 59
• Seattle 2072 p. 30
• New Seattle pp. 25-27
• Shadowrun: Third Edition p. 32
• The Neo-Anarchist's Guide to North America pp. 103-104
• Bug City pp. 34-35
• Target: UCAS pp. 37-39, 99, 79-80
• London Sourcebook p. 20-22, 109-110
• Shadows of Europe p. 192, 75
• Street Legends pp. 148-149, 140-141
• Shadows of Asia p. 35, 94, 184

The Mt Rainier Friends of the NRA is having a meeting today at the Emerald Queen Casinos Tacoma event center at 4pm. Current NRA president Pete Brownell will be speaking at the meeting. If you feel passionate about current events and recent talk about gun control, it is a good place to have your voice heard

When you live your life like a normal person...a "regular" person, you'll realize how boring it can be. Normally, very fast. From the simple additional shot of alcohol on Saturday night to jumping off skyscrapers, planes or any other high place. Humanity came up with a lot of ways to screw themselves over with the next sick thing they could come up with, only to escape this hell of boredom.
And honestly? I was feeling the same way a while ago. But now it seemed more like child's play for me than actual excitement.
The beginning was quite simple for me, the "norm" as one would think. As a mechanic with shitty income, a small flat outside of town and a worn-out truck, you didn't expect much from fate or destiny in return for dealing with all these ungrateful bastards showing up in your garage. There were a few exceptions...but they came over too rarely to make a difference. Feeling unsatisfied with...my current way I decided to do little stunts from time to time. Haul it over the highway, drive over red or be more uncaring whist a police cruiser drove past me. Every little bit helped.
At the beginning, it felt kind of wierd how I disregarded my own policies. In the past, no one would give me a fine or scold me on how I drove a tad more reckless than the usual beginners. Now I literally begged for it. Over 2 months, not much happened afterwards. I got my payments, drank from time to time and tried to haul ass every time I sat in my old Ford at night. Day after day it continued.
And slowly but surely it crept back. The fear of it all becoming a regular activity, to lose that little spike of fear and adrenaline that kept me going. I rather wanted to crash straight into a brick wall and become a layer of splashed gore and scrap than ending in that nightmare again. And I was getting quite sick of the letters from the police about breaking the law. As if they knew better...
A drink was what I needed, so without any thought of speeding on the fresh tar I made my way to the local bar. That's when I met her. She wasn't the hottest thing out there and as I was in my late 30's, expectations didn't range skyhigh. Anyway, we met in the end of June, with her simply lounging at the bar in a black frilly dress, that melancholic gaze and the purse hanging from her shoulder that begged to be stolen. She didn't chat with me at first. Rather, it was my drunk rambling that got her attention. The simple laughs meant a lot for me, since knowing you weren't alone in your demise kept your hopes high. The night went on and glass after glass went down.
Close to midnight, she suddenly stood up without warning, her heels clacking on the wooden floor while she turned to me and asked: "Care for a little thrill?" It sounded almost like divine intervention that day, a godsent to help me out of my dilemma. I walked with her, no thought of danger recurring in my mind. Was it foolish? Yes. But I didn't care. These golden walls, covered slightly in vines and the marble pillars beckoned us into the town's casino when we reached its entrance. I usually never gambled, although that night I really felt like trying my luck. Good thing my credit card was still in the ripped piece of leather that I called a wallet. She advised me to prepare for a lot of huge pots coming up, so instead of merely using a few hundred bucks there we now 5.000 dollars in chips on me.
The woman also felt lucky, cashing in almost double of my own budget into the expensive currency. Just 2 minutes in and we already sat on a table for Texas Hold'em. If you don't know the rules, they're pretty straight forward. But I'll not recite them for you. The internet and books exist for a reason. Some snotty rich douche sat next to us, the part of the table before him littered with stacked piles of gambling chips. He surely had a good night. The first rounds were played warily from all parties, none of us going above 250 or 500 before backing off. Then, once the playing cards were given out after 15 minutes or so, I smiled mentally from joy as I saw the double queen in my hand.
Suppresing it became harder once that guy instantly raised to 1.000 without batting an eye on us. Sure, he didn't seem too concerned about us but the lack or care seemed insulting to me. Deciding to see how this would go out, we both followed suit. And man, how I was internally cackling my ass off as the other remaining queens showed up in the flop, a 9 of hearts just behind them. That snob seemed to play it more secure now, simply calling before we did the same. Then a 10 of diamonds as our turn. And suddenly he smirked before raising by 50.000. At that moment I was flabbergastered. Half of his chips were moved while I thought about my odds. 'He surely didn't have a better hand than I do,' was how I tried to calm myself. Both palms were getting sweaty, my heart was racing, the thought about losing my future savings and possible carrer...
It excited me. So much that my all-in followed suit just before my partner did the same.
We could only stare as the dealer brought out his last card, all of us neither noticing the stares of other visitors and the occasional high roller behind our backs, nor the expensive aroma of alcoholic drinks or extravagant perfumes in the air. Only the last card was in our vision as it turned over, releaving...
The jack of hearts for the river. We revealed our own hands, displaying the snob's straight to queen, my companion's 3 jacks...and my own 4 of a kind. 65.000. That one pot won me 65.000 dollars in one go. But that moment I didn't care about the money, only feeling how the tons of adrenaline left my vains as I returned from my high. It felt so exhilarating! So...unique.
How crazy I probably sound when I demanded more. Yet it didn't continue as my partner stood up, her own buy-in completely burned out. So did the rich dude who had enough of his little game and quickly walked out to trade his remaining winnings for cash. My brain wanted to scream right there, muscles aching for another high and my feet refusing to budge. Though...the woman walked up to me and smiled, as if the big loss of money didn't concern her. I saw her eyes, those emerald sparks having the same craving as me in them before asking me: "Would you like...more?"
There wasn't even a verbal response as my grey shirt and jeans moved alongside my body, following her towards my next activity. The 2 of us arrived before a wooden door, guarded by some shady security man in the typical black suit and tie. Sunglasses and ear piece included. He only gave us so much as a fleeting glance before opening the door for us, his bulky hand holding the entrance open for us until we passed through.
Passing the ominous corridor led us to a badly lit room, bare wooden walls, the weak lighting and table with two chairs creating a massive contrast to everything I saw in here so far. Only a little box at the center of the table looked out of place.
That and how one of the walls looked shinier than the other 3...almost reflective even. And I swear that some sort of stain was on the very edge of that wall. Yet the smell of industrial cleaning utensils burned my nose, making concentrating very problematic in that moment. She explained how this room was supposed to be sound-proof, ensuring that no one would interrupt our "fun".
My companion strided towards the table, her auburn hair swaying from the motions as her frame blocked my sight from the box she currently opened...revealing the cold steel of a .357 magnum, presenting it in the air like a grand prize to win. Just looking down the already used barrel made my blood run cold...yet for some reason, I didn't feel uncomfortable.
She beckoned me to the other free chair, her voice sounding like a siren luring in her prey. When I actually complied and how long it took me to sit down is still a mystery to me. Her free hand reached out again to the box, revealing half the drum's capacity of ammo, neatly placed with care on the now visible red velvet. That's when the security man from earlier stepped in, the door creaking all the way. He grabbed both the gun and the bullets before the woman turned her head away from him. I couldn't see his eyes behind the glasses, yet it took me a while to understand his request.
I copied her actions. Only then was movement heard from our blind side. A clank. The sound of metal against metal. Again. And again. Then the whirring before the clack repeated and I heard him putting down the gun before he left us alone once more.
We were actually doing this. There was no turning back.
She gestured towards the gun, not allowing me to think any longer about this. "You. Or me. Choose." The adrenaline was coming back, stronger than before. I would be losing myself in euphoria if I wasn't careful. With a shaky hand I gripped the wooden handle, feeling the increased weight of the now loaded gun in my fingers. She gave me an coaxing smile, like she witnessed the situation a million times before. It felt groundbreaking.
The odds could've been 50% for me to die, or higher. Maybe it was rigged and I would've died regardless of my decision. All the possiblilities of my death. I...only felt bliss after I pulled the trigger, the tool to my possible death only giving out an unsatisfying click.
Now it would've been the woman's turn. But I wasn't done yet. I needed more. I wanted this rush on the edge of life and death to never stop. She didn't deserve it just yet as I still cherished my first spike...
So much in fact that I pulled the trigger again as it still pointed at my head, ending in the same result before I lowered it slightly from my own temple.
My partner...or rival to that time seemed to freeze just then and there. I could almost see her eyes mentally panicking while I had the time of my life. Oh how I enjoyed this night so far! It would be forever etched into my mind...yet I wasn't done just yet. I'll never understand what compelled me to this absurdly reckless act, though with one last demand for another rush I quickly readjusted the revolver's previous position and pulled for a third time.
*Clack*
...The woman's body seemed to freeze entirely. As if anything else had stopped for her, she desperately tried to bring out another word. Not even a stutter was heard while her body collapsed, a look of total and utter sorrow in her irises. How ungrateful she would be for her own turn.
As to me, I maybe even came from this. I was feeling to good to check, a big smile forming on my face. Only the three bullets remained. Her chances of surviving, crushed. My own calm hand put the weapon down on the table, even slightly nudging it forward for the woman to share this rush with me. For some reason she never moved, only laying there unresponsive to any of my attempts at conversation.
A few minutes ticked by before the familiar man came in, his steps slower than before as he seemed to judge me under his glasses. He took the revolver from the table, then firmly gripped the woman's hand and put the weapon into her hand under his. He made her point the gun towards her own head, demanding her to pull the trigger or else he'd do it. "The crowd is waiting...you don't want to dissapoint them, right?"
I only watched like another spectator as she emotionlessly nodded, cocked the gun, turned her eyes to me in what I assumed to be a last "smile" and pulled the trigger on her own accord. Of course, there wasn't any chance or surviving for her left so none of us jumped as the sound of blood splattering between a loud bang came, part of her head flying around the air and painting the table, the reflective wall and the ground in a gory mixture of red. Her night was over.
The man removed her unexisting grip from the gun, grabbing a small handkerchief to clean the stained barrel as I looked at his technique. He removed all the little stains in seconds, professionally pocketing both things as he wordlessly mentioned me to follow. My legs felt shaky from this experience, a smile etched on my face like I was driving a carneval ride continuously.
All the events afterwards felt jumbled through as I was handed an additional 100.000 dollars for "entertaining their guests" while also agreeing to never share any of the details to an outsider. They led me out of the casino, handing me a bag for all my winnnings before sending me on my merry way.
So much joy was still left on the next day. Sure, I felt bad for the woman who died and yet I can't help but be grateful on how she introduced me into this world. The emotion of being reborn into heaven could be compared to this experience. Now, I never really used the money, only grabbing a grand or such every week whenever something came up. The clothes I wore that night have been discarded, burned and burried into the ground as part of my promise with the higher ups of the gambling hell.
...Well, except my shirt. I kept it as a memorial for myself. It's tucked underneath the drawers in my bedroom with that tiny smudge of blood still stuck on the side.
...
So, now you know my story. You could've stopped listening the entire way but no. Maybe you were intrigued in my reasons...or maybe you're disgusted with me, internally labeling me as a freak.
That doesn't matter anymore. Remember what I said? Only those who aren't outsiders are supposed to know of this. So my friend, I hope you're feeling lucky today. Cause I could really need another distraction from my boredom. Now c'mon, the audience doesn't like waiting, as do I.
I'll even give you a lift...so what are you standing around for? Let's have some fun!

I collaborated on this story with my friend, Haukur, for one of his fictional writing assignments he was doing for school. After the arduous process of translating this story from Icelandic to English we proudly share:
The Humbug‘s game
Space-Mississippi, Planet: unnamed, but one word to describe it could be ‘sandy’. The locals liked to call it that, Sandy. It was midday, the hot sunlight outside was boiling to the touch. There stood Bodega, considering the tavern before him. Dilapidated and old he thought. He went inside and sat down at the bar signalling the bartender, obviously asking for a drink. Not long had passed until a glass was filled and, in a short moment, emptied again. It had been long since he‘d visited this dump but he thought it was high time he paid Lewis the bartender a visit again. The place had the pungent aroma of weeks old urine and it looked like it could fall apart at any given moment.
“BODEGA!” was heard boom from the swinging doors of the bar behind Bodega. “You‘ve avoided your debt long enough you stinkin‘ weasel, you won‘t get away this time!“ People had begun watching the commotion and the stranger closed in on Bodega. “Are you deaf or something?” Bodega stands up. The man’s dagger came swinging, Bodega was quicker. With the lazgun instantaneously airborne at the sound of the slicing dagger. In the time it takes for a blinking eye to complete its trip, the man’s head was transformed into something comparable with mum’s secret recipe porridge. The people around these parts were poor and didn’t have the highest living standards imaginable so they didn’t take much notice to the occasional person getting their brains blown out every now and then.
“You haven’t gotten any worse with the years I can see, that wasn’t half bad at all.” Says Lewis, the bartender , in an ironic fashion. “Yes, I owed that man 5 dollars. Truthfully told, I had the money on me, he was simply starting to get on my nerves.” Replied Bodega.
“Bodega” Mumbled Lewis. “Yepp” said Bodega. “Booodega” replies Lewis carelessly. “Mhmm?” Inquires Bodega back at him. Raising an eyebrow in a bit of confusion about what strange turn the conversation had taken. “Boooooooodega” Says Lewis again like he could go on all day. “Boooo-“ “All right!” Bodega cuts him off. “We’re done here” Then he paid for his drink and made his exit. Taking confident steps and adjusting his admirable hat as he does. Bodega was always good at making an exit, people would tell him. He agreed.
The weather was hot that midsummers day, hotter than usual. Bodega felt like he was being burnt alive. Maybe, it was time to take a trip down to the casino thought Bodega. He was quite the gambler, some would say the best, and he liked nothing more than spending hours on end sitting at the table. Well, except for vaping, of course. The man from the bar, who he owed the money to, was only one of the many whom Bodega had a quarrel with. He continued towards the casino in town. AS soon as Bodega stepped inside the parlour, he experienced the sensation that the air around had suddenly become a lot cooler. Of all the things in there, there was one item that demanded his attention the most. A poster, hanging on the wall of a rich and affluent man dressed in menacing, red garments with his face covered. Under the portrait was a short description.
HUMBUG: Do you think you are the best at when it comes to betting big and high-stakes gambling? Lucky in cards AND lucky in love? The Humbug hasn’t lost a game of cards in decades! Have you, yes YOU!, the nards to take on the Humbug at a Texas hold ‘em tournament? If so, show your face down at the old casino on Sunday. Bodega almost did a summersault in his excitement, never before had he had a chance to play against the galaxy-famous gambler, the Humbug. Compared to the tavern, the casino was heaven, it smelt nice like a new-opened book (not that Bodega read those things) or your bed after a long day at work.
The music had a bolstering effect on the tension and Bodega felt he was at home. He sat down at one of the tables and started playing Poker all day, he wanted to be well primed and ready if he was going to face the Humbug.
The day had been spent well and Bodega felt prepared for anything short of a Rhynogian train hitting him. The Rhynogians, of course, hulking juggernauts with skin that could deflect even a shot from Bodega’s lazgun and renowned throughout the sector as manufacturers of the bulkiest and biggest hunks of scrap you could call functioning spacetrains. The front of each Rhynogian train was embellished with a large and phallic horn in honour of their king, Horvar-E , the fifth in the alphabet of divine rulers of the planet Rhinoserus. As every good space historian knows, the Rhynogians are infamously bad at counting but have an outstanding affinity for poetic writing and fictional literature so they count with letters, not numbers.
When sundown came and they were beginning to close the place down for the night, Bodega stood up, had a good stretch, and looked around. The place was nearly empty. Tomorrow will be the day, Bodega liked to think of in his mind as, Judgement-Sunday and he wanted to be well-rested for the tournament.
It was night-time and long past Bodega’s intended bedtime. He headed home to finally get some shuteye, and when shuteye is referred to, enough sleep to get yourself through the day is what is meant, there were, after all, only 4 hours to sunrise. Outside it was dark and you could barely make your way in the darkness. After some time walking, a man skid around a corner and confronted Bodega in the road. Bodega felt the barrel of a gun press hard into his chest and froze. He heard footsteps behind himself and realized then that he was surrounded by a party of two. “Howdy partner, out for a walk I see?” The man behind laughed inaudibly. “Hand over any valuables. I want your money, not your life but try anything and I won’t hesitate to take both.” Bodega emptied his pockets slowly but left the 5 dollars he had hid in his shoe that belonged to the unfortunate soul who got his head blown off in the tavern the other day. “Thanks for that” said the man again and the last thing Bodega remembered was a hard blow to his head and a heavy fall to the ground.
Bodega opened his eyes half-way. He had woken up on the road, dirt covered. His everything hurt and a small cockroach crawled up his leg. Standing up and looking around, Bodega saw that the sun was high in the sky, noon had arrived. Bodega limped towards the nearest creek and washed his face of dust. The tournament was about to begin, and without any breakfast, he strode as fast as he could muster down the one road in town, limp and all, until he stopped outside the casino. He opened the doors with a bang. Most had been seated and many eyes met his own. He took a seat at a table with two empty chairs left. At the table where three men, one with a large scar across his entire face, one with a patch over one of his eyes, and one with a long, grey beard. No-one said anything at the table, everyone was obviously completely engrossed in preparing for the tournament.
After a short while of awkward silence, the doors were opened in a loud ruckus. Bodega knew immediately who it was, The Humbug. But the humbug wasn’t a ‘he’ but rather a ‘she’. It didn’t affect Bodega much, the Humbug being a woman but he heard a lot of chatter from the people around him. “The humbug, a female? Never have I heard such a colossal joke in all my years.” Said the man with the grey beard besides Bodega loudly in a screeching laughter. The Humbug had obviously heard him. She walked slowly across the indigo blue carpet and sat down in the last empty chair. Dressed in a long black coat, an archaic, old fashioned gun that fired metal instead of more common laser or ray. It suited the geography of Sandy and the only part of her face that showed were her glaringly green eyes. She stared intensely at the old man and said in a hoarse voice: “What are you waiting for? Now play!”
After a long episode of cards, the three men had been eliminated from the competition and Bodega and the Humbug were the only ones left. The Humbug was out of money but instead of being eliminated said the words, noticeably distressed: “What do you say we make this a little more interesting? If you win the next hand, you get double the cash. On the other hand, if I win, I get everything.” Bodega considered this for a moment. “All right, but if I win I want to be paid in no less than three days.” Then he took a large puff of his vape and blew it out into the face of the Humbug. She was minorly deturbed. “Deal” she replied.
They continued their game, and in the end of a round, the Humbug laid down her hand. 7-6-5-4-8, all spades. The room was silent. Bodega laid down his hand. 10-Joker-Queen-King and Ace, all hearts. A Royal flush! The eyes of the Humbug showed panic. “Very well, you have me beat, I shall be on my way now” the Humbug said and got up from the table and walked away. When she was half-way out the door, Bodega shouted “Three days!” She excited the casino. Bodega was pleased, this was enough money to buy a platinum-thread woven holster for his lazgun. A purchase he was determined to make as soon as he received the money. He went back to his spaceship. The only thing left undone before leaving for the Emerald galaxy of the fashion police was to collect the debt.
One day passed, no word from the Humbug. Another day gone but nothing, still. The humbug was still in town and Bodega had begun to suspect the Humbug of not going to hold her end of the bargain. After five whole days, there was still no sign of payment. Bodega felt it was time to go search for the Humbug.
The first place Bodega decided to go check out was the tavern. Luckily, he needn’t look any further. The long coat sat at the bar on a large stool, back facing Bodega. “HUMBUG!” Screamed Bodega. “Who do you think you are. You owe me and you are long past due on your deadline!” Bodega stepped close. “I don’t have the money, maybe in a month or two” said the Humbug in response without turning her head. Bodega stood, both feet firmly planted on the greying panels of Lewis’ tavern. “A month? No, you will pay me right now or that is not a safe place to sit.” In his anger, Bodega reached for his dagger but as he lifted his hand into stabbing position, Bodega realized what was going on, but it was too late. Before he could react, she fired. The archaic bullet shot through the air and disappeared into Bodega’s torso. The knife fell out of Bodega’s grip and Bodega began to fall, Dead. The bullet had hit him in the left chest, where the heart is. There was no mistaking the trajectory.
Lewis, the bartender, standing near, cleaning tables, is startled and in the harsh recoil from the noise, knocks over two empty beer mugs and they fall to the ground in the direction of the falling body of a man who, mere moments ago, had been the greatest high roller the galaxies had ever seen, Bodega.
“Bang!, Kshhsh!, Kshhsh!, Thump!” pierced the silence in rhythm. The shattered glass all around the body shone and glinted in the sunlight which found its way through cracks and holes in the old walls of the tavern. The glass dust whirled up all around Bodega and the light reflected and danced in all the colours of the rainbow through the splintered fractals and chips. There was something beautiful and serene about Bodega’s death. He always knew how to make an exit, people would tell him, and they would be right. With a lump in his throat, Lewis wipes away a single tear from his eye and with a trembling voice he whispers quietly, to himself, but with more meaning than anyone else who had ever uttered the words . . . “Bodega”
The Humbug turned around, not at all touched by the emotional scene she had caused. “Quit your sobbing, old man. This is just how things work in the gambling industry. Although I must say, I expected more from the great and infamous Bode-Zapp!” The Humbug was instantly incinerated a shot from the barrel of a lazgun, and on the other end of it, Bodega. Alive. “My god!” proclaimed Lewis in great excitement. “You’re alive, but how did you survive the bullet?” asked Lewis in much confusion but more so in relief. “I had this on me.” Said Bodega. Lifting an old pocket watch out of his breast pocked which had stopped the bullet dead in its tracks but completely ruined its ability to tell time in any sort of relative or relevant fashion. “The watch you gave me last time I was here. Remember you had that run in with the Rhynogians and I helped you out. For my trouble, you gave me this watch.”
Lewis remembered it well, both the watch and the Rhynogians. A band of them had been causing a commotion in the tavern, and before the fight turned into a cost heavy tavern-wide brawl, something that all wise bartenders fear, Bodega had them on the run, already poetising the bardic songs that would be sung throughout the Rhynogian star sector for decades on end about the epic event. “OH yeah” Lewis chuckled heartily. “Hey, do you remember the one that had that weird birth mark on his middle ear?” “Yes, that was hilarious!” replied Bodega, standing up and grabbing Lewis’s shoulder.
“Speaking of killing time, I’m gonna be heading out now, but thanks for the good beer and the watchful watch. Take care of yourself, Lewis” “You too Bodega” Bodega swung back the tavern doors on their hinges and strode of into the bright desert light, taking a fat vape and twirling his lazgun in the air. Making his final exit, that day, from the tavern. Watching him from behind the bar, trying to come up with a word that could describe the way he felt at the time, all Lewis was able to utter were that eternal word, that burned inside of every star and beat in rhythm with the hearts of every man, woman, and child, a word that when uttered, demons would run and hide and everything evil in the vicinity would find itself in an unsafe place to stand. A word that could topple empires and challenge gods.
“Bodega”
The End.

Seattle Rush Limbaugh Sponsors, as of 3/7/12
New for today, Seattle Seahawks 12K Run, Taste of Washington wine tasting event at Qwest Field March 31st, Champion Windows, Porcello Jewelers, Seattle Cancer Treatment and Wellness Center, Blue Science (Blueberries), Lifelock, Allegra, Exergen Temporal Thermometers. Show seemed to start late, ads from 9:00 to 9:08, when Mr. Limbaugh started talking. During that time I heard a QuickenLoans ad, as well as one for Infiniti of Kirkland, so I left Infiniti on the list. I’ll try to listen again tomorrow to see if the same thing happens, to see if station is trying to do a work-around by starting with ads.
Advanced Hair Restoration, Advancedhairseattle.com, 425-449-8185
Allegra, http://www.allegra.com/contact.aspx, @AllegraOTC
Alki Tours, http://www.alkitours.com/contact.html, 206-935-6468
Amberen, 1-800-222-3304, http://www.amberen.com/, @amberenonline
Antioch Bible College (Staunch supporter, time better spent on other contacts first)
Blu Science (blueberry-based supplements), http://www.bluscience.com/ContactUs
Constant Contact, 1-866-876-8464, http://www.constantcontact.com/contact/index.jsp, @constantcontact, @ctchelps
Dr. Jim Colman,DDS, http://www.jimcolemandds.com/Contact-Us.aspx, 206-242-4477
Emerald Queen Casino, http://www.emeraldqueen.com/, 1-888-831-7655, 253-594-7777, http://www.emeraldqueen.com/about/contact, @EQCasino (ad on Monday, no ad today)
Exergen Temporal Thermometer (Traffic Report), @Exergen, 1-800-422-3006. http://www.exergen.com//about.htm
Financial Revival, http://www.myfinancialrevival.com/contact-us/
Fireside Hearth and Home, 425-251-9447, http://www.firesidehearthandhome.com/, @firesideHH (no ad today that I heard, ad on Monday)
Issued Statement saying never sponsored, ads aired by mistake: Geico, http://www.geico.com/about/contactus/email/, @GEICO
General Transmission, Seattle, 1-800-491-5759, Kent, 206-878-5759, Generaltransmission.com
Grasshopper Mowers, http://www.grasshoppermower.com/contact_general.phps (ad on Monday, none today that I heard)
Hewlett Packard (advertising The Folio), e-mail the CEO page: http://www.hp.com/hpinfo/execteam/email/ceo/index.html, @HPCorp (Ad on Monday, none today that I heard)
Hillsdale College (staunch supporter, time better spent on other contacts first)
Income at Home, [email protected], (888) 421-4850
Infiniti of Kirkland, http://www.infinitiofkirkland.com/, 1-888-379-4186 (New Sales), e-mail contact form: http://www.infinitiofkirkland.com/infiniti-map, @infinitiofkirk (Rush started at 9:08, late, Infiniti ad on at 9:05)
Insperity, insperity.com, http://www.insperity.com/contact/, @insperity, corp. 281-358-8986, 1-800-237-3170, Spokesperson is CBS Sports Team member, Jim Nantz, twitter for CBS Sports is @cbssports
Integrative Foot and Ankle Centers, 425-820-8699, seattlefootdoctor.com
King Lasik, Dr. Joseph King, http://kinglasik.com/seattle.html, 425-525-1000, 1-877-551-2020
Lear Capital, @goldcoinpro, 1-800-957-4653
Lucky Eagle Casino (sponsors traffic report, which appears on KTTH shows), http://www.luckyeagle.com/, @luckyeaglecsino twitter, (360) 347-1651 (ad Monday, none today)
Lifelock, Rush delivers himself, promo code Rush for 10%discount, 1-800-543-3562, [email protected], @LifeLock (say no plans to drop)
Major Blinds, http://www.majorblinds.com/contact/, 206-623-1379, 425-453-3216
Marci Jewelry 425.455.4561, [email protected] they were on Monday, but not today, but Porcello jeweler was on, with same ad, same announcer as Marci ad
Mercedes Benz of Lynnwood, http://www.mblynnwood.com/mercedes-benz-form-contact-seattle, 425-673-0505
Newt Gingrich campaign and PAC
Northwest Insulation, [email protected], 1-855-337-0096, http://insulatenw.localplacement.net/products/new-residential-insulation/
NW Travel Deals, @NWTravelDeals, http://nwtraveldeals.com/contactus.php
They say ads were placed by mistake: O’Reilly Auto Parts, http://oreillyauto.custhelp.com/app/ask (ad on Monday, no ad today)
Pacific Power Battery Stores, [email protected], 800-326-7406
9:25 Porcello Jewelers, 425-454-2300, [email protected] (same announcer and ad as for Marci’s Jewelers, which advertised Monday, don’t know if jointly owned)
Priceless Granite, http://pricelessgranite.com/, 1-800-261-7735
ProFoot Insoles, http://www.profootcare.com/, http://www.profootcare.com/contact_us.html
RhinoShield Ceramic Coatings, http://www.rhinoshield.net/, @Rhino_Shield, http://rhinoshield.net/contact.php, (888) RHINO12, also advertises as Supershield Roof Coatings
Seahawks 12K Race, http://www.seahawks.com/about/contact-us.html, (888) 635-4295, @SeaHawks
Seattle Cancer Treatment and Wellness Center , 206-367-4673, 800-321-9272, [email protected]
Robert L. Steinberg, Atty. http://robertlsteinberglaw.com/contact.htm
Sound Mortgage, [email protected], 253-874-8900
Stamps.com (special deal for Rush listeners) 1-888-434-0055, @stampscom , were on Monday, but not today
Sustainable Wealth Team, sustainablewealthteam.com, 425-278-1782, they have ads during show several times
Taste of Washington – wine-tasting event, think coordinated by Washington State Wine Commission: http://tastewashington.org/, @TasteWashington, Washington State Wine Commission, @WineCommission, http://washingtonwine.org/, and Seattle’s Convention and Visitor’s Bureau: @SeattleMaven, 206-461-5800, http://visitseattle.org/About-Us/Contact-Us.aspx
TILA Mortgage, http://www.tilamortgage.com/, 206-660-766-8888, 1-877-8452, [email protected], they were on Monday, but not today that I heard
This sponsor told customers it’s dropped, was on Monday but not today :Vitacost, 1-800-381-0759, http://www.vitacost.com/Survey-Contact-Us, @vitacost
West Seattle Coins and Bellevue Rare Coins, http://westseattlecoins.net/, 206-938-3519, and http://bellevuerarecoins.com/, Bellevue 425-454-1283, Lynnwood 425-672-2646, had ad on Monday, but not today
The Yardley Institute, http://yardleyinstitute.org/contact.html