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An ocean of red surrounded him, stretching as far as the eye could see. The landscape was featureless, just a constant crimson that engulfed even the horizon. Picking up a foot he took a step forward, then he felt it, the feeling of something breaking beneath his feet. It reverberated through his leg, the ripples from the disturbed crimson surface spread outwards from him as the feeling spread inwards. He gritted his teeth, the feeling wouldn't relent, the ocean was draining away, a sense of dread filled him, he didn't want to see, he didn't want to know what he stepped on, but it just kept draining. He would see it soon, he would know, he didn't want to, he didn't want to, he didn't want to, he didn't want to, he didn't...
David woke with a start, he was breathing heavily and shaking uncontrollably in a cold sweat. He took a few deep breaths and rubbed his face to wake himself. Just a dream. He brought his breathing back down to normal and looked at the clock on the wall, It was early morning. David sighed and laid his head back down, he would doze a bit till it was a more appropriate time to wake. At least he tried to, he couldn't seem to get even a nap in. Cursing it all he just grabbed the controls for the entertainment system to find something to preoccupy himself.
He swapped through a series of shows over the next couple of hours. He watched recent news for a bit, then a couple of different nature documentaries on various planets, and then a brutal version of football where the players were all remotely piloting heavy robots they could slam around with impunity. Eventually the hospital came to life again and the Vildune doctor entered into his room.
It gave him a quizzical look before speaking. "Oh, you're awake, didn't expect you to be up this early."
David gave a smile in return. "Yeah I guess I'm just an early riser." He turned the entertainment system off so he could properly listen.
"Well since you are up, we could start your final examination so we can get you cleared to leave."
David perked up a bit. "Sounds like a plan to me." The doctor started testing his body, poking, prodding and recording his reflexes. He shined a light in his eyes and questioned it's reflective properties, to which David gave a summarized explanation. The doctor was intrigued but didn't push him for more details, instead continuing with the examination. He finished by having him stand and conducting a basic mobility test. David went through a range of motions and stretches to make sure everything was working as intended.
Content with the tests the doctor had David sit. "Looking good, everything seems to be in order. Do you feel that something's off or otherwise not operating as it should?"
David just shook his head. "No everything feels fine."
The doctor nodded. "Alright, once I submit this form you'll be cleared to leave, if you could just sign here, thank you, any questions?"
Something popped into his head that he had forgotten. "Actually yeah, where did my stuff go?"
"You mean your pants? We were keeping it stored for you after we had it cleaned."
"Was there a blue scale in one of the pockets, do you still have that?" David was getting concerned.
"Yes I believe there was, we stored it with the pants if that's what you are wondering about."
David let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks, I would like that returned to me please."
The doctor nodded. "Of course, a nurse will bring your effects as well as a new printed shirt and pair of shoes."
"Appreciate it doc, thanks again." The doctor gave him a smile then left to file the paperwork. David sat down on the bed again to wait for everything to be processed. It was maybe ten minutes before a nurse showed up to deliver his clothes. The pile was deposited on the bedside with a polite nod, then they left.
David noticed the scale on top and picked it up to examine it again, It still had its luster but the edges were scuffed and scratched now, a testament to its use in his escape. He smiled to himself, I should make this into a necklace or something. He set it aside while he stripped down and got his clothes on. After he was properly dressed he slipped the scale into one pocket and the credit chip into his other before exiting his room.
Stepping into the hall he inhaled deeply, enjoying the freedom that he had missed. A call from down the hallway got his attention as he turned to see Sky and Solomon sitting in some chairs, evidently waiting for him. He smiled and approached to pair who stood to greet him. "Morning Sky, Solomon, were you guys waiting for me?"
"Not for very long." Solomon responded. "We decided it would be appropriate to congratulate you on your release from the hospital."
David chuckled a bit. "Thanks, but it was just one night, no need to stand on ceremony."
Solomon did a 'shrug'. "Well it was that, and Sky here doesn't seem to want to let you out of his sight." Sky snapped to Solomon with a look of betrayal before looking at the ground embarrassed.
David laughed and ruffled his head feathers a bit. Sky actually flinched a little at that, and a needle of sadness pierced David's heart. "Don't worry Sky I'm not going anywhere fast. I got to contact my boss and let them know the situation, then I have to get a new ship, supplies, equipment and a general sense of what I'm going to do next." Sky just nodded and continued staring at the floor. "Well, I'm going to go send a message, so you guys can wait for me at the front if you want."
With a nod they left to wait and David went off at a brisk pace to the public terminals. Following the signs on the walls he found them fairly quickly and signed in to his account. Labeling the message as an emergency situation update, he summarized the events of what transpired to the best of his abilities.
Before he hit send, he hesitated as he thought about something. His boss technically did belong to a branch of the government so maybe they could pull some strings for him. He added a p.s. to his letter asking for a favor and sent off the message. With that done he signed out of everything and left to meet up with Sky and Solomon.
He found them waiting in the lobby and with a wave joined up with them. "Sorry to keep you waiting. So, what's the plan for today then?"
Solomon responded. "I was going to research where I may be needed as a doctor or if there was a hospital that could use my services."
"Well wherever you go they will be lucky to have you. I think I'm going to get a new ship first, if you find out where you want to go, I can give you a lift so you don't have to hire a shuttle."
Solomon raised a manipulator at him. "I don't want to impose on you more than I have already."
David scoffed. "Impose? Come on, you're not imposing. We can just take a jump gate and be anywhere with another orbital station, and even if there wasn't a jump gate it would still be no big deal. Just accept the offer already, you might hurt my feelings if you don't." David got him with that one, his manipulators slumped a bit as he was caught between a rock and a hard place, and he knew it.
"Twist my tentacles why don't you. Fine, I will graciously accept your offer."
David smiled a devious little smile at his success. "Excellent, lets meet up later tonight to talk about things. If I remember correctly, I think there is a bar on level 23 called Zarg's bar 'n grill, sounds plain but they fix up a damn good drink. Lets meet around seven, standard Terran time, tonight for a bit of celebration and planning."
"Sounds good. I take it you are going to stay with David, Sky?" Sky was still embarrassed and just nodded. "Well then, I will see you both later." With that he turned and left leaving the two of them alone.
David turned to Sky who looked at him finally. "Well we should get going and find a new ship." Sky nodded and followed slightly behind him as they walked. They found an unoccupied lift and David set in a command to take them to the market level. Sky was being quiet the whole time and David felt kind of awkward with the little guy just standing there like some kind of attendant.
David decided he should try and start a conversation. "So how are you doing?"
Sky looked up at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"I mean with everything that's happened. You doing alright?"
Sky looked back down apparently thinking about it. "I'm not sure, I guess I'm a little nervous. I've never been anywhere but the Dread Throne before, I have no idea what to expect or do."
David bobbed his head a few times. "I see, well don't worry, I think you'll like freedom more than you know." A soft chime sounded in the lift and the door opened to reveal the market, bustling with life as people went to and from different shops and stalls talking to the various vendors selling goods from their planets. The diversity of life in the crowd was always exhilarating. Many different species walking, sliding, crawling, and flying all over the place while talking to the vendors, haggling and buying what they wanted, was energizing to say the least.
David was about to step out of the lift when he felt a hand grab onto his pocket. David looked down to see Sky, wide eyed, staring at the crowd of people like a deer in headlights before blinking a few times and noticing what he did. His hand quickly shot back down to his side and he mumbled a quick "I'm sorry."
David gave him a soft smile. "It's ok, just stay close and you'll be fine." Sky nodded and they exited together. David started weaving through the crowd Sky kept close to his side as he did. David found Sky's reaction to be quite funny as he stared at everything, mouth slightly agape like a little kid. Sky's gaze lingered on a vendor who was selling some hefty looking alien fruits, and David thought he might have saw Sky gulp a little bit at the sight of them.
Why not. David weaved his way over to the vendor with Sky in tow. Stopping in front of the stall the vendor gave him a warm welcome and insisted they buy his merchandise. David, not one to disappoint, scanned over the fruits for a moment before he saw one with good size and color to it. Selecting it from the pile, the merchant presented a device to pay with and David inserted his new chip into it, then scanned his hand. A second later a green light came on and the vendor gave him a polite bow in thanks for the patronage.
David turned back to Sky and presented the fruit to him. His eyes went wide as he stared at it, mouth hanging open, and David thought he might start drooling. He reached for it but stopped part way, hesitating. He looked up and David and asked "Can I?" Icy cold needles of sadness were everywhere in his heart now.
David managed to keep smiling and replied. "Yes, go ahead." Sky grabbed hold of the fruit with both hands and looked upon it like it was the most valuable thing in the world. He opened up and sunk his beak into the fruits flesh, slicing into it with an ease born of his natural affinity towards it's consumption. A look that could only be described as ecstasy flooded across his features as he practically melted on the spot, savoring every ounce of flavor.
David just smiled at his friends, but the sadness ate at his insides. This was probably the first real fruit Sky had eaten since he was a little kid. Anger at the snake bitch rose from the grave, but with nowhere to go, it evaporated into the ether. "Can you eat and walk Sky?" Sky snapped out of his own personal rapture and took a moment to process the question before giving him a quick nod. David smiled and started walking again, making sure he kept an eye on Sky as he ate his fruit so he didn't wander off.
He found a directory at a junction and looked over it for the shipyard. Target located he headed in that direction and into an interior lift which he keyed the correct sub level to go to. Sky had managed to finish an impressive amount of the fruit by the time they stepped out.
The entire level was dedicated to the creation and selling of ships of all shapes and sizes. The reception lobby was all clean polished metal with a large desk manned by three individuals of various species. David walked up to the desk with Sky behind him taking in the sights as he munched on his food.
A polite greeting was had and they asked how they could be of service. "Yes, I'm in the market for a high end exploration ship, powerful scanners, good for long journeys, and preferably a method of self defense." No way was he gonna be caught with his pants literally down again.
The individual talking to him gave him a once over before replying. "Such a ship would be quite expensive sir."
David felt a twinge of irritation, he knew he didn't look great in his plain white shirt and worn pants, but he adopted a smug grin. Pulling over the credit scanner he inserted his chip into it. "Is this enough?"
David watched with immense satisfaction as their eyes widened in surprise and they tripped over themselves trying to apologize. "M...my apologize sir, please follow me we will get you a custom ship to your exact desires." They proceeded to lead the pair down a hallway and into a private room.
The doors money opens, David mused. He sat in a really nice leather chair, Sky just finished the last of his fruit as he sat next to him. The receptionist excused themselves to retrieve a representative that could help them. They waited in the room for a few minutes before the door opened again revealing a four armed biped, Quallexen David believed the name was, fifth seat of the alliance. The light green skin on its body was indicative of the foliage of its planet, it had skin that looked like a lizards, its slender form was incredibly flexible putting even the best of earth contortionists to shame.
It entered and raised an eyebrow at the two of them for a quick moment before adopting its practiced business face. "Hello, my names Cathol, I heard you would like to order a custom ship?"
David nodded. "Indeed, I'd like to see all your options if you wouldn't mind." Cathol walked over and handed them a data-pad prompting a holo-display to appear in the middle of the room, and then sat across from them. David examined the information on the pad, a complete list of ship types, features, and cosmetic preferences. David looked across at the dealer who was apparently not expecting much from the pair. David fought to keep the smug look under control and began to make his selections.
Selecting the newest line of Venture series ships he sifted through the options and saw an impressive list of function and comfort items. He began selecting some of the options such as, nice pilot seats, lounge, gym, fabricator, and fully stocked kitchen. This got another raised eyebrow from Cathol but David wasn't done yet. Moving on to the functional features he specified complete control of the ship from the cockpit, Biometric scanners, Reinforced doors, localized environmental controls for each room, customized suites with one set to the preferences of Aoulooron's and the others defaulted to human preferences, shields as heavy as were allowed on a civilian vessel and equally heavy armament, then finished it off with a few cosmetic changes.
Cathol was now quite surprised by all the selections, but to their credit they did a fairly good job at hiding it. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Well sir, if you are done with your selections I can give you a quote." He used a data-pad of his own and input a few things, then a number appeared that was quite large. David had the money most definitely but his mother would strangle him if he didn't at least try and haggle it down.
"Seriously? I know its custom but I could probably get this same ship at a discount at Atlas station."
Cathol's brow furrowed a bit "Sir I assure you this is an accurate estimate of the price."
Tough cookie huh. "Alright Sky come on, we'll try at the next station." Sky looked slightly confused at what was going on but got up anyway and followed him towards the door.
"Sir, please wait, I can maybe adjust the price a bit for you." He tapped on his pad again and the number was shaved down a little bit.
David walked back into the room a little bit but didn't sit down. "You have my interest, but not my business yet."
"Sir you must be reasonable, this is a tall order to fill."
"I'm not asking for much Cathol, just a price that we can both be happy with at the end of the day." Cathol stared at him for a moment but David was putting on his best poker face. With a sigh Cathol tapped once again on the pad and the number dropped a little again. David gave a smile at the new price. "There we go, that is a more acceptable number." He sat back down in the chair. "Now how soon can I expect this to be done?"
"We have a ship in this model ready, we would just need to add all your preferred features. It should be done by tomorrow afternoon."
"Sounds good to me, where do I sign?" A image appeared on his pad, standard agreement for this kind of deal. He gave a quick once over of the forms and then signed his name at the bottom. Cathol now smiled and stood to offer him a hand, which David took.
"Pleasure doing business with you sir. Your order will arrive at hanger C on the 54^th floor after midday tomorrow."
"Thank you Cathol, I will expect it then." Cathol escorted the pair to the exit and saw them off with a polite bow as the lift door closed. David released the tension in his body with a sigh. Sky was looking at him with a questioning look.
"What just happened?" He finally asked.
David chuckled a bit. "It's called haggling Sky, some places let you negotiate on the price, and sometimes you have to be aggressive about it." Sky just thought on it for a second before shaking his head apparently giving up on the concept for the moment. David chuckled again but turned his mind towards stocking his new ship and getting equipment. Time for some shopping.
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As usual let me know what you think down below and of anything that could improve my writing.

Forbidden Cookies

“Those cookies are not for you."
"What?" The admonishing speaker was from the newest species to join the Allegium, a small mammalian race that called themselves humans. They were in the Grand Hall far too early for a species so new, but if the rest of this species had the ability to create things like the "cookies" Tl'ak had been stuffing himself with, the introduction was probably well granted. He grunted and continued to reach for the platter piled high with richly colored brown cookies studded with chunks of white.
"I said, those cookies are not for you. I brought thirteen platters of cookies as my Offering of Goodwill. Twelve of them are for anybody to partake in. That platter, however, is reserved for the Grand Advisor of the Allegium. If you like, you may take from the blue or flower-printed platters - those are my famous sugar cookies, and they are safe for everybody to eat. I also recommend the cinnamon hot-bites from the grey one or the fruit-and-nut oatmeal cookies off of the bird-printed one. You may not take anything off of the red platter." Tl'ak froze, absolutely floored at the audacity of the one who sat across the table from him. How dare she try to deny him? He was the High Warlord of the Tl'vank, the most cunning spy in the Allegium, and the most capable warrior in the universe. And beyond that, he was the most noble and competent ruler that had ever existed of all time. Who was this /insect/ to tell him what he could and could not have?
He snarled and grabbed a fistful of treats off of the red platter in spite of the warning. "You have no right to tell me what to do, you underbaked ape! I do what I want when I want! The only reason this "Allegium" exists is because I allow it to be so!"
With that, he stuffed one of the saucer-sized cookies into his scaly maw and started chewing noisily, daring her to say something.
"If you're looking for me to try and stop you, you're looking in the wrong place. I gave you your warning, and you'll be the one that has to deal with the fallout." The human settled back into her seat. "I'm sure the Grand Advisor will take your poor attitude into account when you submit your proposal today. /IF/ you submit your proposal today."
Tl'ak laughed, spraying saliva covered crumbs across the table, much to the disgust of the other attendees of the conference. "If? If? You must be delusional! I have always had my proposals accepted! This is because your so-called Grand Advisor knows that when I don't get my way, you lesser species start dying en-masse! I will be the FIRST to present, and it will be you who must fear that there will not be enough time to beg for scraps!"
He shoved the rest of the cookies into his mouth, relishing the discomfort of the rest of the individuals sitting around him. A wicked idea crossed his mind, and he pulled the forbidden platter from the middle of the table and placed it in front of him. It wasn't enough to merely tell the human that he was her superior. He would show her by defying her command and consuming every last treat right in front of her face. She was helpless to stop him. It also didn't hurt that they happened to be absolutely delicious. Tl'ak was going to have to modify his demands to include these delicacies by the metric ton. He had a feeling his mates would love them.
He made a show of consuming them, making loud enjoyment noises that bordered on lewd. This went on for several minutes, and Tl'ak made sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. The human heaved a resigned sigh but did not look away or move from her seat. "I can tell you right now if you continue to eat those things you will absolutely not be the first person to present to the Grand Advisor."
"Oh? And who is going to stop me? You? You can't even stop me from eating them in the first place! How do you intend to stop me from making my demands?" With that, Tl'ak tipped the platter over his mouth and slid the contents into his mouth. "Now you have no offering for the Grand Advisor, and he will ignore your pleas!"
The human wrinkled her nose. "You seem to be under the impression that I will be the one to stop you. The truth of the matter is that it is your hubris that is going to prevent you from achieving your goals, no matter what those goals might be."
Tl'ak stood up from his seat, banging his fists on the table. He lumbered around the table, tossing every representative out of their chair as he made his way to the little wretch who dared to insult him. While his hulking reptilian frame normally towered over everybody in the room, compared to the human seated before him, he seemed positively gargantuan. He bent over, placing one clawed hand on each of the armrests, and trapping the human in her seat, giving her a toothy grin.
"Really? My hubris? I think you may want to think long and hard about which one of us is suffering from that. It seems to me that between the two of us, I'm the only one here capable of making good on every single one of my promises. And I promise you that I'm going to make sure your pathetic species suffers for your smart mouth."
The human didn't seem to be the least bit intimidated by Tl'ak, her expression showing nothing less than an impressive poker face. "And it seems to me that between the two of us, I'm the only one who knew what kind of cookie you just gorged yourself on."
"Eh? What kind of cookie? What does that have to do with anything? There's nothing your planet produces that I can't eat. There is nothing alive that exists in this entire galaxy that I can't consume!" Tl'ak boasted proudly. "So go ahead, tell the rest of these insects what kind of poison you tried to foist on the Grand Advisor. I'll be sure to tell him when he gets here!"
"There was no poison. That was a plate of chocolate cookies. I call them my quadruple chocolate explosion cookies."
"Chocolate? Psh! I've heard of that. It's perfectly safe for everybody in this room to eat! Even those pathetic little rats, the Clincinn, can eat it without any ill effects. It's only your pitiful pets that have issues with the stuff."
"Mmm... that's true. But do you know why I call them chocolate explosion?"
"Because you lack imagination, and want to make your offering sound more impressive than it actually is?"
"No. I call them my quadruple-chocolate explosion cookies because they have four chocolate ingredients in them. Chocolate powder. White chocolate chips. Dark chocolate chips." She counted each one of the ingredients with her fingers, extending an extra finger with each one for punctuation until a gurgling in Tl'ak's gut interrupted her. The human smiled wickedly. "And of course... chocolate laxative. You should be coming to the "explosion" portion quite soon, from the sounds of it."
Another audibly loud gurgling rumbled through, cutting through the silence in the room with ease. The reptilian doubled over, clutching his abdomen. His limbs felt weaker than the time his brother had given him a triple dose of the poisonous y'reb from his home system. He survived the attempted coup. His brother did not.
"Wh-what have you put in these?"
"I just told you. They've got a healthy dose of chocolate laxative mixed into the batter. The chocolate masks the taste of the laxative. I made this batch by request of the Grand Advisor, as apparently his house has been hit with a nasty case of Grilliu recently. If you or I were infected with this nasty germ, it would cause nothing more than slight gas, and maybe a little loose stool. The poor Grand Advisor, however, has the opposite problem and is unable to eliminate without a little extra help. He asked me if I could work my magic to make the stuff more palatable. From the destruction you wrought upon that batch of cookies, I'd say I succeeded."
Tl'ak groaned miserably, feeling the very familiar sensation of gastric upset coming up quickly within him. He jammed his legs uncomfortably close together as he looked desperately around the room. There, across the Grand Hall, was the ostentatiously named Elimination Chamber. Praying that his cloaca would hold out long enough for him to relieve himself, he made a mad dash for the bathroom.
"You wretch! You scoundrel! You unclean son of a Tilbek's daughter!" Several attendees gasped at the rude expression. "When I get done in there, I swear upon my mother's fangs that I will deal with YOU!"
And still, the human looked nonplussed. "Good luck with that"
A murmur rippled through the Grand Hall, and the whispers that reached Tl'ak's ears spoke of uprisings, weakness, and defiance. He would be sure to make a spectacle of destroying the nasty little insect that inspired them. And after that, he'd make an even grander show of subjugating the species that created her.
Finally reaching the door, he made a motion to push it open, only to have his momentum carry him snout first into an immovable object. Despite the sizable THUMP, the door did not budge. Frantically he alternated pushing and pulling the door, the inevitable evacuation of his insides bearing down on him. It refused to move.
With a mighty roar, Tl'ak embedded his claws into the face of the door, and gave a mighty heave. He intended to rip it completely off its hinges. The door creaked in defiance before completely shattering into thousands of filigreed pieces, many of them still embedded into the slab of solid grey blocking the doorway and preventing access to the bathroom.
Tl'ak felt as though somebody had just dumped a bucket of ice water over him. "Wh-what in the name of Sithrak is this?"
"Cement."
He slowly turned his head to face the human still seated in her chair at the table. "What."
"Cement.", she repeated. "It wasn't easy to get ahold of enough cement to plug up the entire bathroom, and it certainly won't be cheap to pay for the repairs. But it was absolutely worth it to banish you from the conference room."
What should have been a fierce snarl turned instead into an agonized whimper as a fresh reminder of his hubris roiled his gut.
"Unless of course, you intend to relieve yourself behind the potted plant before the Grand Advisor arrives?" The suggestion was met with a smattering of uncomfortable giggles from the peanut gallery. "If I'm not mistaken, there is another restroom two floors down. If you hurry, you might make it there before your insides make it to the floor beneath your feet."
"You... you'll pay for this..." Tl'ak gasped, stumbling towards the exit. "I swear it. You'll pay for your trickery, and your people will pay for daring to send something as treacherous as you into the Grand Hall as their representative!"
Nobody spoke as the sound of the Tl'vank warlord's curses grew ever fainter as he departed down the long hallway leading out of the Grand Hall.
"Um... If I might beg your pardon Grand Representative Erin of the Humans..." A tiny Clincinn hopped up on the table, his fat furry shoulders shaking with anxiety. Gossamer puffs of soft, silvery fur wafted around him as he spoke. "But I seem to recall that the Elimination Chamber located two floors below this floor was ALSO filled with cement. Have you somehow switched the chambers with your magic?"
Erin stared at him for a moment, before his question seemed to register in her mind. A wide smile spread across her face, and she laughed. "Oh...! Oh! Oh, no booboo. I don't have any actual magic. It's just a bit of human terminology that means I'm very good at what I do. But I did fill both bathrooms with cement. Even if he manages to reach the one downstairs, he isn't going to be able to use it. I fully intend to make sure Tl'ak doesn't come back to the Grand Hall, and if that means paying for a few new bathrooms, then so be it."
"A few?", the Clincinn on the table asked, his tail swishing in curiosity. "How many did you fill?"
The smile on Erin's face hardened as the Grand Advisor to the Allegium finally entered the room, signalling the start of the Grand Conference.
"All of them."

Powerbands! An Alternative to Inspiration

Powerbands! An Alternative to 5e Inspiration

Day 5: Protection Part 2- Ground, Center, Protect (plus talisman)

Today we'll cover Grounding, Centering, and Casting Protection in part 1. For part 2, we'll make a protective talisman. For the talisman, any item you can wear or hold will work. (I will be using one of grandmother's thimbles. She had quite a collection.)
Grounding and centering are often used together or interchangeably and are often presented as given parts of a spell. When I talk about them today I will refer to them as distinct and separate things.
Lets start with grounding. There are a few ideas behind why grounding works and when to do it.
Grounding before a spell can assist in protecting your own energy by allowing you to be a conduit. Calling on energy from the elements, your ancestors, the fae, deities, etc. can be a lot for your body and mind to handle. Grounding yourself allows you to direct the energy without trying to store that energy inside of yourself. It flows through you and goes where you need it to go. It can allow you to push the excess energy out and away without having to send it somewhere specific. If it goes into the ground, it quickly becomes inert. If you have an affinity with another element, you can try using that element instead, or something solid that represents that element. You can use your talisman, if you choose to create one.
It is common to use the actual ground for this. You don't have to go barefoot, but I think it helps reinforce the connection to go barefoot on dirt or grass, but tile, hardwood, or carpet is fine too. If you can't take your shoes off- that's fine. If you want to sprawl out and connect your whole body to the ground- go for it. Since the ground is always there, it's the easiest thing to use. Imagine the excess energy flowing through you, then force it out through your feet into the ground and away from you where it can't bounce around inside of you and wreak havoc.
It's also common to use something from the ground (earth) such as a certain crystal or rock or a bowl of dirt. Again, it doesn't HAVE to be earth related to work, but there should be a physical component to it. I sometimes use something that comes from or represents a loved one, something that I've made, or a notebook/pen. If you go this route, focus completely on that object, almost (or actually) to the exclusion of everything else. Really feel it. Let the leftover energy dissipate while you focus on calming yourself and getting in control of yourself.
Another simple method of grounding is common for people with anxiety. You can do 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 or any meaningful number. Go through your senses and find 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste. This method is especially useful for coming back (I think of it as making a landing) after astral projection.
There are many more ways to ground, but these are 3 of my favorites.
Centering is the act of getting yourself ready to direct the energy you will use. On day 2 when we wrote the full moon spell, I made a recommendation to do something that energizes, fuels, or relaxes you. This is the basics of centering. You can also think of it as "getting your vibe right." It's making sure that you are going into the spell with a clear mind and clear intentions. If you are centered, it will be easier to summon and direct energy.
There is no real right and wrong way to center yourself. It's simply getting yourself to the appropriate mindset. For me, dancing, knitting, doing something mindfully all help with this. The grounding techniques can also (or instead) be a centering technique. Meditation can be centering.
Your altar may be what centers you, or calling the corners, casting a circle, lighting a candle, whatever gets you in the magical mood and focused.
Before we move on to protection, I want to make a note about visualization. If you're like me and you don't SEE things in your mind- that's okay. If you have trouble with conjuring up images, it's okay to just tell yourself what is there and what's happening. If you put a cup on the table and turn away from it, you can KNOW that it's there without any sensory feedback from it. You may have to work on just knowing that the thing is there, even if you don't see it. In 20+ years of practicing, I still can't visualize (honestly I might have some level of aphantasia, I didn't know that people actually see things in their minds until I was like 30 years old.) If it doesn't come easily, don't worry, just continue with your intent and get yourself to the state of knowing it is there.
Protection should be specific, at least in the beginning. You will direct some of that energy to do a job. Like my analogy on day 2, you don't typically wear armor to the grocery store. Protection is not always necessary. It will not hurt you to cast protection every time you cast a spell. It will also not hurt you every time you forget or choose not to. The more practiced you are at protection, the more effective you will be and it may become something that you do without serious (or any) effort. Like the boxing analogy from yesterday, it may just happen intuitively when you need it. If you've ever seen a Christian or Catholic reflexively cross themselves, or even the acting of clutching one's pearls (which reminds me of grabbing a protective amulet or crucifix) that's a way of reflexively casting protection. You might even have a protective sigil that you draw in the air or a protective amulet you touch.
One simple and popular way to call protection is to visualize something like a robe, cape, or armor. It can be any color that symbolizes protection to you. Let your intuition decide and then look up the correspondences later. Ground and center yourself. Pull some energy from around you and give the garment some real shape and purpose. What is it meant to protect you FROM, exactly? Being too vague may have unwanted side effects. The most blatant example would be during an attraction spell. You may be thinking that you don't want to get hurt, but pain is part of a healthy relationship, romantic or otherwise. There will always be little hurts and disappointments that happen. Asking for protection from any pain may protect you from new people (or existing ones.) That attraction spell will not be effective in that case. Same with a job or money spell. You may be unintentionally preventing yourself from getting a job where something about it is not ideal, and therefore seen as a threat. (Like an annoying coworker.)
It's not so much that the universe, your deity, your inner self, or whatever is messing with you, as it is that you cannot have a successful spell without a solid goal. This includes protection spells. At this point in my practice, I don't have to be so specific. I have over 20 years casting protection in the same couple of ways. I know and the universe knows what I want to let in and what I don't and when. Some people start with a clear knowing of what "protection" means and some struggle with it for a while. Looking into your values on Day 7 should help with this.
When you are grounded, centered, and have an idea of what your armor should protect you from- put it on. You do not have to continue to visualize it the whole time you are casting your spell, but do remember to take it off when your spell is over. You can connect this type of protection to a physical object (such as an actual cloak, or a piece of jewelry that you physically wear along with the magical armor.
Another method is to cast a circle. You can use a wand if you have one, or any pointy object, or your finger, or do some superhero laser beam vision to draw a circle around yourself. As you do, visualize light coming up like a force field to protect you. (Again, let your intuition choose, look up the meaning later.) Let the universe and everything in it know that nothing with intention or purpose that does not align with your own cannot pass into the space, and if anything fitting that description was already there, it needs to leave immediately. When you are done you can trace the circle backward, or cut it open with your wand, or break it by walking out of it. If your visualization skills are weak, you can make a circle with salt, herbs, crystals, or whatever else you like.
Remember to send the excess energy away from you.
Your assignment is to try it out. These are only two of a great many ways to protect yourself magically. Adapt them as needed to suit your own life and needs and feel free to try any others or create your own. If you don't often cast protection, add it to your daily practice for the month. Aim for once a day, ground, center, and call/cast protection. Then end it. It should not be significantly draining or kept up for very long. Be careful not to use your own energy to maintain the protection. It should not take effort to keep the protection active, especially for the few moments you should be practicing.
Today's part 2 is to create a protective talisman. You should have an item that is fairly small and easy to wear or carry. Don't worry about cleansing it for now. Do avoid using anything that feels full of maliciously bad energy, but other than that, a little bit of bad vibes isn't a problem. Depending on your skill level, it could be more harmful trying to pull bad vibes out. (Like sucking on a snakebite with your mouth. You might get some venom out, but it's going in your mouth and that's not actually better...) Instead of trying to pull out any bad vibes, we are going to replace them with our intent. (Think of it as a cup of soda. If we add water, it may not look very different, but if we keep adding water, it will eventually be full of water. The soda will fall on the ground and soak into the earth, like all excess energy.)
You also need to have a clear intention. Will you carry this with you? Will you use it for spellwork only? What do you want to keep away and what do you want to allow? Think of this as setting your filter.
For a spellwork specific talisman, you can ask it to only allow energy that aligns with yours. For everyday protection, you can ask it to keep away malicious energy, or to give your intuition a boost, or to bring you calm when you need it. The options are endless. I recommend going with something specific, positive, and somewhat mild. "Protect me" is not going to work. It may end up bringing you a rash of what looks like bad luck.
Not everyone has that kind of experience, but some do. "Protect me" might get you a broken down car (to keep you home,) lose you a job (to protect from a potentially uncool coworker.) With practice, "protect me" WILL be specific enough. Context and intuition will be enough to focus your intent. For right now, though, spend a little bit of time thinking about it. Think about "who, what, where, when, why, and how."
Mine will be specific to communicating with my guide/s, something I'm fairly new at. I want to be protected from fake guides. I recently did a ritual to meet a guide, and they have kind of a mimic thing going on, so "fakes" would probably filter my guide out.

Who: me (protected), my true guide/s (allowed), and draw on the energy of my ancestors (connected to the object- one bought it for another.)
What: thimble (object)
Where: within a bubble of about 6 feet in diameter. (A little larger than my height, smaller than most rooms I would practice in.)
When: When I hold it or place it beside me to communicate with spirits and otherworldly entities.
Why: I would like to grow the relationship between myself and this guide.
How: I want the thimble to call up kind of a tent around me, made from something like spiritual spiderwebs, using the energy of my ancestors to create an environment around me where only the invited are able to pass through, so I can be vulnerable in that space and let growth happen more quickly. (The specific ancestors were really family-oriented and amazingly supportive of their descendants choices, particularly skilled at creating and maintaining a useful network, fiercely protective when called on (in life) and generally amazing for a lot of reasons that really fit this goal.)

Here's another example, this one is a poker chip to protect against bad financial decisions:

Who: Only me (it will have no effect for others who carry it.)
What: An old poker chip.
Where/when: Wherever I bring it/inside my own mind, mostly. When it's on my person and I have a financial decision to make.
Why: I tend to overthink decisions or be talked into going along with someone else's desire.
How: I want it to shield me from the influence and desires of others so my own intuition, logic, and reason will be the only thing to guide my choices.

Another option would be to provide extra protection at the end of a spell and to help ground or center you. You can focus on the physical item while it takes the burden of protecting you as you shed your excess energy and temporary protection.
The point is to be as specific as possible. This isn't a hex or a jinx, so don't target any specific person with it. If you don't have anything quite that specific, think of it as one of those stakes for a sapling. You are going to grow very fast and may need some extra support. This talisman will be that extra support as you grow and probably get blown around during this journey to being a strong, deeply rooted witch.
When you have your item and your intent, it's time to ground, center and protect.
You can use visualization, sound, or a combination of the two to start pushing your intent into the object. Sound can be in the form of words, song, music, or tone. Do what feels right, and look it up later. If you want to light a candle or something to make it more ritualistic, keep it small this time. This item will have your back, be nice and treat it well. More like a friend than royalty. Don't be overly formal.
When you are done, release excess energy and remove your protection.
Do it again somewhat regularly. As you start out that might mean anything from daily to once a month or once a year. Just affirm the purpose and use it for that purpose. As you use it and it becomes more honed to your intention it will not be necessary to maintain it as often.
That's 5 days down and we've already done a lot!
So today, tell me (as much as you're comfortable with)

How is meditation going?
How is your BoS growing?
How did protection practice go? What method did you try and how did you like it?
Did you make a talisman? If you're comfortable, share your experience.

Tomorrow I will talk about the essential tools every witch needs, and the ones you may think you need. I'm sure you already know what I'm going to say about the necessities, but I'll also talk about different types of altars, the challenges of sharing them on social media, and tell you a bit about the evolution of my own. See you then!!

All information presented is copyrighted material, you may not reproduce any part in any way except as permitted by US Copyright law. For info about reproduction permission, DM me.
My current goal is to turn this into a book, and perhaps repeat this type of "course" in the future. I truly believe there is no cost of admission to witchcraft and I will never ask you to buy anything (from me or otherwise.)
If you would like and are comfortably able to leave a tip, I do have CashApp, Venmo, and Paypal. (Starving artist is a lifestyle choice, but not-starving artist is great too. And no, I'm not actually starving, but I am looking at paying some money to get this project turned into a book and I've got my eye on this tarot deck...)

Day 12: Divination Adventure

Welcome back! Today we are going to talk about divination! (And also try it out.)
Divination is basically any method of looking into the hidden or unknowable. The inforamtion gained can be from the past, present, or future. It can come from your higher self, your spirit guides, spirits of the deceased, the earth or anywhere else. Divination, or Mancy, covers a broad range of activities and skills, so I'm going to cover some of the most popular today and encourage you to look deeper on your own.

Cartomancy can apply to any magic using any kind of cards, but most often is used to mean divination with a deck of cards. (Tarot cards, playing cards, or oracle cards.) Typically this involves focusing on a question or topic and interpreting the cards that are drawn from the deck. The cards can be arranged in specific positions that hold meaning or they can be drawn one at a time. Since tarot is incredibly popular, I'll have a whole day dedicated to tarot coming up soon to give some basics and debunk some myths. I'll go a little bit deeper into other forms of cartomancy as well.
Osteomancy is bone magic or bone reading. This method uses clean and dried bones. There are several methods, but one of the most well known is "throwing bones." The actual phrase seems to come from hoodoo, though the practice itself has multiple origins. (In other words, if it's important to you to completely avoid cultural appropriation, use "osteomancy" or another phrase.) This method involves a set of non-matching objects (usually including animal bones, shells, rocks, and other natural items; though some people use things like game pieces, small toys, poker chips, coins, etc.) that are scattered onto a surface and read by the caster. Each item, position, and sometimes orientation (such as if a coin is heads or tails side up) has a symbolic meaning that is personal to the caster. Because of this, it can be difficult to get help finding meaning behind a reading. Bones can be used in other ways as well, including as a base (painted, carved, etc.) for runes or as a replacement for cards or ogham sticks to create similar symbolic meanings.
Lithomancy is stone magic. This can mean throwing stones in a similar way to bones and reading based on what position which stones land in. It can also refer to reading the light that reflect off of or goes through the stone. Sets of stones can be painted to represent certain meanings, and some people choose to use a printed spirit board (including Ouija boards) to aid interpretation.
Tasseomancy or tasseopgraphy is reading tea leaves. This can include literal tea, herbs, coffee, or other drinks that leave a residue behind. Typically, the leaves are either unstrained or use a strainer with larger holes to allow more material to remain in the cup. The tea is either drunk (by whoever the reading is about) or tossed out so only a small amount of liquid remains with the debris. The cup is shaken or swirled, and the shape/s are interpreted. These can be read intuitively, or the reader may have a list of common symbols they usually spot with some . (Snake, anchor, heart, etc.)
Astrology is the one with zodiac signs. It is more complex that it seems at first (If you gotten a natal chart done, you've probably seen how much information can come from something like your birth date, place, and time. This method uses the position of celestial bodies (planets, stars, the moon, the sun, etc.) to divine information. It gets a bad rap thanks to some silly astrology columns and vague, general "fortunes."
Numerology uses numbers to divine information. Like astrology, it is very easy to get a free reading online. Unlike astrology, it's pretty clear and simple to get started (unless addition is your weakness, then this one will be quite difficult.) The depth and quality of reading can vary greatly.
A Pendulum can be purchased or made and consists of a weight attached to a string or chain. It can be used to get yes/no answers easily, find lost things, contact spirits, and more. The reader typically suspends the pendulum from their hand and interprets the movement of the weight to divine the answers. Pendulums can be particularly susceptible to the will of the witch so it can be a challenge to get clear and accurate readings. They are also quite popular, so help is easier to find.
Dactylomancy is not very popular, but I do it so it's worth mentioning. This is "ring magic." Often it uses a ring suspended much like a pendulum. It can also mean a complex Middle Ages version with specialized rings for each day of the week and numerous metal discs. I use rings for divining yes or no (spin a ring and determine if remaining upright or falling before a set amount of time is a yes or no answer) and for a form of scrying. (Hold the ring up and focus on the air inside of the ring- don't look through it, just look at the space within the circle. I don't know if i learned this somewhere or if I made it up, but it works and "dactylomancy" is a delightful word, so I'm counting it.
Ogham is associated with Celtic magic and is based on a primitive alphabet. Letters are carved onto staves (sticks) and there are many ways to read them. Each letter is assigned a general meaning and the method of drawing aids in further interpretation (like a tarot spread.)
Runes are based on an ancient Norse alphabet and usually carved, painted, or both onto small rocks of similar size and shape. There are many ways to read runes, by using a spread, drawing one for a quick answer, or by scattering them. There are generally accepted meanings for runes and they are fairly popular.
Scrying typically involves a reflective surface like a crystal ball, a bowl of water, a metal disc or orb, or a mirror and concentrating on a question or topic while looking for images or symbols in the reflection. This can take a bit of practice to be successful.

Again, this is only a few of the methods commonly used for divination, but there is no end to the possibilities. One of my old favorites is to let a candle burn until there is a nice pool of wax, then pour the wax into water, then read the resulting shapes.
Your assignment today is to look into a form of divination that speaks to you. Consider the tools and how it would fit into your magical life. Would you like to contact otherworldly beings, ghosts, ancestors, a deity, or your inner self? Consider how you learn best. If you learn best with a lot of tactile feedback, something like runes or bones might work best for you. If you don’t like dead things- bones are probably not for you. Think about other factors as well, like time and space.
For today's Part 2 (optional), it's time to divine! I keep thinking of this as a choose your own adventure exercise. Tools tend to work better when you've gotten to know them, use them regularly, cleanse and consecrate, etc. For today, I want you to think about how you feel about the activity. It's not time to get married to your tools, it's just time to see if you like them.
Materials-
All methods: If you'd like to use color associations, your signature spice blend (or any herbs,) crystals, candles, or sigils- please do! Read through your chosen method to make sure you have an appropriate space/place to perform the divination method.
Option 1: Scrying: A black mirror, a shiny metal surface (like a brass or silver plate,) or something else with a reflection that isn't a clean clear mirror, you may use it. If you have a dish, bowl, cup, that holds water, put as much water as you are comfortable with into it. Black or dark colors work best for most people, but lighter colors or white can work. As I've mentioned before, a phone screen, tuned off, can make an excellent black mirror (with the added association of being a thing you probably look at for information regularly.) A regular mirror, or small hand mirror can work, but there are often more distracting visible things. Keeping the lights low can help, provided you can still see your surface.
Option 2: Read your drink: You'll need a drink that leaves residue and a cup that allows you to see it clearly. Light colors usually work best, and patterns tend to have a lot of distractions and cause confusion.
Option 3: Flip a coin: A coin or similar object with 2 different sides.
Option 4: Truly choose your own: Check out the list from part 1 and pick something that interests you!
Method:
Remember that these are my suggestions for beginners and I encourage you to personalize it and change it up:
All options: Choose a place and time with no distractions. Similar to meditation, you want to be able to let thoughts pass through and think about your question or topic without trying to think of the outcome of the reading. Stay as open as possible. Prepare your space and yourself. Ground, center, and protect. If you are using sigils, herbs, or candles, set them up.
Option 1: Scrying: When you are relaxed and ready, start to think about your question or topic. Try not to form any very solid thoughts as you do so (meaning don’t try to answer the question or make assumptions.) Take as much time as you need, ask for help if you are ready to accept it from other beings, deities, etc. Spend a while with your surface and gaze at and into it for a while. Watch the inner layers/different depths of the reflection. Make note of anything you see and what you think it could it mean. If you have instant success, start asking questions and see if you get an answer. There is no definite set of images or symbols, but common symbols may come up. Do your best to interpret what you see, and make notes to review later.
Option 2: Read Your Drink: Brew your tea, mix your cocoa, or otherwise prepare your beverage. As you sip or drink it, start to think about your question or topic. Try not to form any very solid thoughts as you do so (meaning don’t try to answer the question or make assumptions.) Don't drink the debris. When you have just enough liquid left to let the debris slide around, but not float, give the cup a gentle swirl, or a vigorous shake. Set the cup down and look for shapes. They may be very distinct, very scattered, etc. Be patient and pay attention to any feelings or details from other sources as you interpret the contents of the cup. Do your best to interpret, and make notes to review later.
Option 3: Flip a coin: This method is quick and simple, though not always easy. It is better at this stage to use this as a game rather than a decision maker or a very serious answer. Sometimes a yes or no can carry a much more nuanced meaning. Don't use this for any issue you might not be able to keep a cool head over. Break your question or topic into yes or no questions. First, charge/acquaint yourself with the coin. You can either tell the coin which side is yes and which is no, or you can ask, then flip, then ask again for confirmation. (Don't ask the same thing too many times, you do have to put some element of faith in this.) When this coin (or another) gives you a satisfactory yes/no, ask your questions and flip the coin.
Option 4: Truly choose your own: Follow the directions you found elsewhere.
All options: End your protection, dispel excess energy, safely put your candles out (if using) and clean up. Don’t worry if nothing happened. It usually takes a few tries, so make it a point to practice again. (The same and/or different techniques.)

Today, tell me:

What method did you look into? Was it something from my list or did you end up learning about a different divination method?
Did you try one of the techniques listed in Part 2? How did it go?
Do you have an idea of what type/s of divination you would like to work into your practice, if any?

That’s it for today! Tomorrow will be much more relaxing. We’ll talk about ritual baths and essential oils! See you there!

All information presented is copyrighted material, you may not reproduce any part in any way except as permitted by US Copyright law. For info about reproduction permission, DM me.
My current goal is to turn this into a book, and perhaps repeat this type of "course" in the future. I truly believe there is no cost of admission to witchcraft and I will never ask you to buy anything (from me or otherwise.)
If you would like and are comfortably able to leave a tip, I do have CashApp, Venmo, and Paypal. (Starving artist is a lifestyle choice, but not-starving artist is great too. And no, I'm not actually starving, but I am looking at paying some money to get this project turned into a book and I've got my eye on this tarot deck...)

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Tavern Games: rules for 3 different card games played using dice

Intro

My players and I are the type of people who sit at home and play games like rummy or liar's dice for fun to pass the time. We enjoy simple card games or other table games, even ones that we can bet on (usually just using chips with no monetary value attached, as we are all broke). So, naturally when I began DM'ing for them I found they wanted to play tavern games and the only one I really had ready for them was Liar's Dice. It's easy, quick, and simple as well as one of the few tavern games I knew I could play with only dice available at the table and not have to run upstairs to get my deck of cards. I knew I wanted to find more games, so I did a little research, and have begun compiling a list of games as well as creating/tuning rules for 5th edition that you can play at the table using only dice. This was a big thing for me, if we wanted to play poker we would have, I wanted to find a fun way to play some classic or fictional games using just the dice available at the table. I hope some of these games may help you in your gaming adventures both in game and out! I plan to look into some classic dice games that I will write simple to read rules for and post those soon too! For now here are 3 card games: Three Dragon Ante, Cerberus' Breath, and Crick Queen's Call

Three Dragon Ante

Flavor: This was a popular game among taverns and pubs found throughout most of the human realms. Many nights if an adventurer or tavern crawler had a deck on hand and felt the itch to play, you would find crowds of people watching games and cheering for their favorite player, often putting bets outside the game itself. Each deck often depicted the main metallic dragons (copper, gold, silver, and brass), but some sets depicted other colors of dragons, and had varying amounts and strengths of cards. [This game was produced as a physical card game by WotC in 2005 as a supplemental card game for 4e that can be played both in and out of character, all credit for this idea goes to them]
Rules: To begin the game each player gathers their hoard (this will act as a tally for how well you are doing as the game progresses, and is usually 20GP for the average adventurer) and rolls 6d6 keeping each dice hidden, this is their hand and the dice should not change. Each die is a card and each number on that die represents the power of a dragon you have drawn from the “deck”. Now each player rolls an additional d6 to determine who goes first as well each player puts in an equivalent amount of gold to what they rolled. On each player's turn, starting with the first player and moving clock-wise, they may play one "dragon" from their hand and reveal it and its "power" adding it to their "flight." Once everyone has played a dragon, the player who played the highest power dragon goes first next round, ties are broken by whoever played their dragon first. After 3 rounds of this determine who has the highest power flight at the table, that person takes the gold and adds it to their hoard. Everyone then discards the dice used that round and draws two “cards”, rolling an additional d6 for each and adding it to your hand (you may buy an additional “card” for 2 gold) and play continues until the a player has no money left in their hoard.

Cerberus' Breath

Flavor: A game similar to Cerberus’ Breath is a common game amongst the denizens of the Fire-Plane, particularly those living in the City of Brass. It is a simple game with simple rules, and thus can lead to large sums of money (or more) being won and lost on a single game. So when the Ifriti took slaves from the material plane, those slaves picked up on this game. Often making cards of the little scraps of cloth or paper they could find and playing for food amongst themselves. They named this game after the hounds their masters used to keep them in line. Eventually the game made its way back to the material plane where it is now enjoyed to this day.
Rules: The goal of the game is to reach closest to 18 without busting over that number on up to 3 "cards". Play begins by every player paying the ante (at my table that's 5 GP), then each player rolls a d10 visible to everyone at the table, if this roll is a 10, it may also count as a 1 (this only applies to the d10). A round of betting proceeds starting with the player to the left of the dealer (a job passed around the table clock-wise, starting with the person who is most willing), then a d8 is rolled privately, another round of betting, then a d6 can be rolled privately if desired. Players may choose to fold at any point in this game, although it is not recommended until after the second roll. After all players have held their hands determine the winner by whoever is closest to 18 and divy money out from the pot. In the case of a tie split the pot between all tied players evenly, unless someone has rolled a "2 Headed Cerberus" with a 10 and an 8, which can only be beaten by a "Perfect Cerberus" by having all 6's. Set aside any coins unable to be evenly split for the next game.

Crick Queen's Call

Flavor: Crick Queen’s Call comes from the second campaign of Critical Role in episode 1 where it is played between Jester and Nott as well as episode 8 where Jester tries to cheat while playing and gets caught. Crick Queen’s Call is a very popular game amongst the wealthy of any particular kingdom as it can be seen as a very snobby game to play, usually involving expensive card sets with intricate designs of famous royalty. It is usually played with very large pots amongst the more flourishing members of royal houses and guild leaders, very likely wasting away their families fortunes on their egos. It is traditionally played by Humans, Dwarves, and Halflings, but the other races will, of course, not turn their noses up if challenged to a game. [All credit for this game goes to Matt Mercer and Laura Bailey as well as anyone else at Critical Role who may have been involved in its creation, thank you all]
Rules: The goal of this game is to have the best hand possible of pairs, straights, evens/odds, or 3 of a kind out of 3 cards. Play begins by players paying the ante into the pot, usually around 3-5GP, and then each rolling 3d6. Players may fold at any point during this game. The player to the left of the “dealer” (a job that is passed around the table between rounds, going clock-wise starting with whomever is most willing) chooses to bet or check. A player may then choose to call or raise a bet, if they raise they may re-roll one dice doing this only once per game, when this is done, a full round of betting must go around the table starting with the player to their left. Once the final bets have been made, all hands are revealed. Determine winners by these metrics: three of a kind beats even straight (2,4,6), even straight beats odd straight (1,3,5), odd straight beats high straight, high straight beats low straight, low straight beats all evens, all evens beats all odds, all odds beats two of a kind and if none of the above the pot goes to highest die. Determine ties by splitting the pot amongst all tied winners as evenly as possible, setting aside uneven money for the next game.

(Feedback appreciated)

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure OC Tournament #5 - Round 1, Match 2: Peter VS Markus

Well, the last match was a deathmatch, but this second one is what is known as an objective match. This, for the uninitiated, means that the match’s main point isn’t, necessarily, who would win in a fight, but to complete a certain specific mission better than the opponent.
At the time of this match going up, though, after the strats for this one are posted, though, you can still vote in match 1 for over a full day. Check out (and influence) the brawl between a man and a bird in an airport hangar!
Scenario:
Waterfront District - One of Many Fish Markets
Morning
“What do you mean you don’t have anything?”
*Markus was having his patience tested, certainly, by this particular supplier. It was hard to find someone in this region who could provide high-quality fresh fish at a reasonable price (especially considering that some of the fish the people of Los Fortuna considered "high quality" seemed to be overpriced, constantly out of stock, and of incredibly dubious quality from the rare few glimpses he had gotten of them), but this wasn’t the first time now that the boat he had chosen to be BADD GUYS’ regular ‘guys’ had turned up with absolutely nothing one morning.
“I dunno what to tell you, Mark,” a young man in a bandana and sleeveless striped shirt said, hanging by an empty stall he was never told not to man, “sometimes, when the captain heads off to celebrate a great haul, she just disappears for days on end, and then without her, we just don’t always have what it takes to actually catch enough to turn a day’s profit.”
“That damned Captain Moonshatter…” Markus didn’t get it. The crew of the Marquise was supposedly able to accomplish such things, yet still the captain wasted her time gambling instead of leading them to their potential? Leading them towards all these amazing fish? “Where is she, man? I’ll give her a piece of my mind.”
“A casino, probably, but… Ya know how many casinos are out here? And she never tells us where she frequents! If she did, the boys and I woulda dragged her out a long time ago!”
“I know where you can find her.”
A man in a dark rain poncho, pretty typical attire for this district, spoke, eyes obscured but some of his dark hair cascading out from underneath the thing. The hapless sailor and Markus turned to him, looking quizzical but expecting, before Markus broke the silence.
“There is nothing that isn’t shady about you, sir, but.” Markus smirked. “I think shady is what I need right now. What have you got?”
Fwup!
Before Markus knew it, the stranger had flicked his hands, and a stylish business card was in between Markus’ fingers. He looked at it, then, and read the name embroidered upon it. “Heartache Casino… Interesting.”
“She likes to go around in disguise on her gambling trips, sometimes as elaborate as a fat suit and a fake beard so nobody recognizes her. Only surefire way you’ll have to get her out of there is to get everyone out of there. If she’s there, she’ll get pissed off and blow her cover, for sure.”
Markus wasn’t an idiot, even if what he caught onto being suggested didn’t bother him. “…someone wants me to mess with this casino, huh? Well, none of my business, as long as she’s actually there. If not, I’m kicking your ass, got it?”
“You have my word.” The man nodded his head, and then disappeared into the bustling fish market.
That afternoon…
Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - Heartache Casino
Arriving at the casino, Markus took a look around, taking in the bright lights, expressive designs, and loud sounds. There were so many people strewn around the casino, and just about any one of them could be the captain… Clearing them out was going to take time.
He needed a drink.
One irish coffee later, Markus was ready. He sat at a table in the lounge area, viewing the various (mostly drunk) casinogoers, trying to suss out which ones could end up being the captain. He was mostly unsuccessful. It seemed as if he would have to get his hands dirty and start actively kicking people out if he wanted to get anywhere.
More importantly, over the course of his stay, Markus had noticed something - one of the waiters at the bar had begun eyeing him, always keeping watch of him for some reason. He was planning something, souring Markus’ mood. With a dissatisfied grunt, Markus got up and started making his way towards the slot machines to get a start on kicking people out, and the waiter seemed to follow in his steps.
No matter the pace at which he went or where he went, the waiter seemed to be right there, a couple of steps behind him. Markus’ brow furrowed in anger. He’ll see just how far that waiter was willing to go to follow him. Even near the ATMs, far away from the bar area, the waiter seemed to be constantly following him. He even tried going to the restroom for a few minutes, and the waiter was still there when he-
For all of his thinking about the waiter following him, something, or someone had crashed into him, and found himself knocked down onto the floor from the impact, covered in… water? Beer? Something. He looked up and saw another waiter, a worried expression on their face as they profusely apologized.
A glance to the right, back at the original waiter, revealed that he was… smirking? Markus couldn’t quite make the waiter’s expression out, but one thing was for certain - he was taking joy in watching Markus stumble into the other waiter, and he had likely planned this.
That asshole.
Markus quickly got up, ignoring the apologetic waiter and began quickly making his way towards the other waiter, ready to give him a piece of his mind. He didn’t know why he did what he did or what he was planning, but he sure as hell was going to grill him until he told him that.
Upon getting close enough to the waiter and coming up from behind him, Markus firmly grabbed his arm to keep him from running away again. “Hey, you. What do you want from me? Why were you following me, and what exactly do you stand to gain from doing this, huh?!”
The waiter turned around, only to seem… entirely confused? “Sir, what are you talking about? I didn’t do anything - I don’t even know who you are, or why you’re here! I- I don’t want to make a scene, if you have any complaints you can bring them to my supervisors, just- I need to go back to the bar and bring food to the customers, you know? I-”
“Bullshit. I noticed you! You were constantly keeping watch of me, following me- hell, I went to the fucking restroom and you were still there when I came out! Don’t give me these crocodile tears, I know you want something from me!”
Just as the argument between Markus and the waiter began, someone else found their way into the casino - Peter Bequasimodo.
Earlier that afternoon…
Downtown Los Fortuna - Hotel Delmano
Peter had stopped a fair few crimes in his day, not to mention done some less than legal things in others where the rule of law was the real crime. It was certainly strange, though, that someone had thought to send him a handwritten letter at some point… It seemed someone had realized before he could stop a crime, he had to find his way there. He read and reread the text again.

The Heartache Casino will see a tragic failure today… Nobody can do a thing to prevent it, so kiss everyone who sets foot in it goodbye! Think you can get everyone to leave by X:XX o’clock?!

Great, Peter thought to himself. Someone wants to play some stupid game with me… Just perfect. Just what I need when things are starting to heat up more. Despite his immediate thought of annoyance, though, he couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about this… Who sent letters in 202X? Who would send them to him? Peter was usually pretty careful to cover his tracks, and his usual mode of transportation made it so that not even the snoopiest detectives could track him down.
Usually, he was able to use his more than capable skills to hack into the odd police database or private server, or simply use his stand to cut through so much crap, but with a letter, he couldn’t do any of that easy stuff. It would take some footwork to track down the source of this, let alone the location of this ‘Heartache Casino…’
Or, as an ally pointed out, he could just search up the letter’s return address online.
“…urgh, what am I thinking? Of course they wouldn’t actually give where they were sending this from if they wanted to stay this mysterious! This damn place they wrote down is just…” He blinked, looking at his screen. “The Heartache Casino. That settles it, alright. I’m being baited.”
Even if the threat was fake, just designed to get him to the casino, he would have to look into whoever had this much information on him… Seriously, who could have this level of knowledge when he’d barely done a thing in this city?
Beyond that, in the off chance it wasn’t an empty threat, there was a serious danger to other people there. He needed to minimize the chances of that if he could. That time was less than an hour away. He walked over to his bed and grabbed his gauntlet and pack. In a flash [Running in the 90s] appeared on Peter’s face and he disappeared into the information superhighway. It was time for Treagon to take care of business.
“You know,” Peter said, the mood he’d tried to psyche himself up for blending into the chill attitudes of the casino evaporating quickly, “it might not be much my business, buddy, but when I see people being shitty to service staff… That kinda thing really isn’t cool, yeah? Let the man do his job.”
“Stay out of this,” Markus answered tersely, shoving the waiter away as the man backed off, returning to ordinary business, “you think I don’t know that sort of thing? I’m here as a favor to people like that.”
There was a certain impatient entitlement to this guy that really bothered Peter, especially as he spoke like that. All the more, he was finding himself with reasons to kinda want to leave this guy crying and begging for mercy. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” He said, bluntly and with a sort of lax tone, grinning with malice as he stuck his hand in his pocket and leaned back. “I got business of my own to take care of, but don’t lemme catch you acting up like that again, yeah? It’s hard enough just scaring people off so I can look this place over… Shit! Barely half an hour left!”
“Wait, you mean to say you’re also trying to-”
The waiter happened to slink by, and after that moment, Peter was gone. Markus gave a confused look, but then, felt his own phone vibrating. Curious, he moved to open it up. “SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!”
“Ffuck-!” He couldn’t help but fumble his device in alarm at the strange face on the screen, which vanished soon after, and as he looked up, Peter was standing around again, and so Markus grit his teeth. “You..!”
Peter, on his end, found the antagonism hilarious, and it was easy enough to accomplish that he felt good about the efforts therein. Now, anyway, it was time for him to get to work on finding a way to force everyone out of here…
He’d been spending these few minutes searching, but couldn’t find any sign of any sort of electronic tampering, or security footage of someone stealthily dropping any bombs anywhere, or whatever else might make him able to solve this problem in any better a way than this…
It was now exactly thirty minutes to the mystery time. He’d just have to get as many people to leave this place as possible, even as more constantly poured in.
Markus had also heard Peter mention a half an hour, and though he didn’t know of any sort of vague threat, he had a feeling that that created a sort of ‘deadline’ for this. Well, he didn’t know what to look for, so may as well go for quantity over quality, right? He’d force these people out of here.
Though both had the same end goal, the immediate shared contempt they held for one another, both immediately understood, had made this a contest. Never mind that they were far from the only two people who would see it as such, their prides were at stake here, and they resolved to completely show the other up as priority number one.
Open the game!
Location: The First Floor of The Heartache Casino, one of the many which dot the Eastern Strip of the Entertainment District.
The area is 50 meters long and 105 meters wide with each tile being 5 by 5 meters and the ceiling being 5 meters high as well. The green square represents the exit and the gray square is the way to the second floor, currently it is being sectioned off by bouncers who are only letting VIPs enter and exit. The players are represented by the circles of their respective team colors with Markus near the top center and Peter near the bottom center.
The grey circles around the center are ATM machines, and the white circle is a reception and transactions desk where you can buy or redeem chips. The two sets of blue tiles are restrooms, men’s restroom on the left and women’s restroom on the right.
The left side is the lounge area with a bar, denoted by the brown shape, tables represented by green circles, pool tables represented by the purple rectangles, poker tables represented by the red circles and roulette tables represented by the light blue circles. In the top left is a netted off area represented by the hollow blue rectangle where people can play darts and to its right are two rows of vending machines with water in the blue squares and sodas in the purple.
The blue rectangles, red triangles, and yellow hexagons are all rows and sets of slot machines. The blue ones are traditional slot machines, and the yellow and red ones are virtual slot machines. The blue slot machines pay out in chips and the yellow and red ones pay out in receipts that are redeemable at the reception desk, but all of them only take in money.
There are chairs around the slot machines, tables, and bar where appropriate and the place at the moment is mostly full with gamblers, loungers, and a number of roaming security guards and employees. In general if you are looking for a free spot at a table or machine you can probably find one with a bit of looking.
Someone has already disabled the floor’s sprinkler systems, and literally nothing will make them function. Curious.
Goal: Over the course of thirty minutes, cause more people to leave the casino than your opponent! It can be taken for granted, for balance’s sake, that there will always be people present to disrupt so long as a location isn’t completely rendered unable to function.
Make sure to have some subtlety with it, though, as the guards are as watchful as one would expect casino guards to be. Being too blatant or repetitive would run the risk of getting you in trouble.
Additional Information:
Patrons have 2 in strength and agility, 5 in endurance, 2 in gambling (in general they know how the games here work, but that doesn’t make them any more likely to succeed at them), and 2 in tenacity; in short, a mere mild inconvenience won’t be enough to completely send a person away, but they probably won’t tolerate repeated annoyances too long before at least moving somewhere else in the casino or outright leaving once they get fed up. They carry cell phones, wallets, and assorted amounts of casino chips. Ones on the West side of the floor can be assumed to be carrying food or beverages with them, according to the kinds of things one could expect to find at a casino.
If your actions cause significant risk of harm or death to patrons, rather than simply getting them to leave through various means, police will be contacted to provide further support to the guards, quickly becoming wise to your tactics and arresting you; the owner is rich, so the cops will arrive extremely quickly. If you are arrested for assault, manslaughter, murder, public indecency, and/or accidental homicide, you will no longer be able to gain points.
As wanton slaughter on casino grounds isn’t what your contact had in mind, murdered or otherwise slain patrons do not count towards total score, even if, yes, their souls have exeunt; paramedics will be under specific orders not to remove the bodies until after the time limit has passed, specifically to spite the attempt. And also you’re still arrested.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Baker Street Rat Pack	Peter "Treagon" Bequasimodo	“I’ve heard that in Kansai, if the Yakuza who run Cee-lo Games catch you cheating, they shove two of the dice in your eyes and dump you in the river.” You really don’t like this guy much at all. If this man intends to undermine your protections, then you’ll teach him a lesson. Identify and find ways to interfere with your opponent’s strategies in favor of your own!
BADD GUYS	Markus Ness Mathison	“Nobody makes a fool out of Kishibe Rohan! I know you’re laughing at me in your head right now and I can’t stand it!” You really don’t like this guy much at all. If he thinks he can be so self-important all the damn time, he has another thing coming! Identify and find ways to interfere with your opponent’s strategies in favor of your own!

T5 Teams and Character Spreadsheet
T5 Match Schedule
Interested spectators, feel free to ask judges via PM to a link to our tourney’s official Discord server!

DEMOLITION DAYS, PART 98

Continuing
Time passed: winter changed into spring, spring changed into summer ... and winter gave spring and summer a miss and went straight on into autumn... until we decided that it was the proper time to host a housewarming party for all our new friends and colleagues here in Russia.
But first, I had to take several relatively short trips to Western and Eastern Siberia. To Kazakhstan, to Uzbekistan, to Kalmykia, to Dagestan, to Chechnya, to Ukraine, to Georgia, to Latvia, to Lithuania, to Tajikistan, to Estonia…didn’t get a lick of work done for my company, but sure met one hell of a lot of folks and got info on many, many different projects.
It was basically ‘pump-priming’, or ‘testing the waters’, or whatever the hell you want to call making initial contacts, spending huge amounts of company money on flights and ‘entertainment’ expenses. As well as meeting people from well over 1.6 million different countries.
I had a most burgeoning Rolodex, not Rolex, as if anyone here would remember those things. I carried a brick-like satellite phone which was monstrously expensive so I used it as much as possible. Had binders full of business cards and I had more visas for more different countries…strange thing, though. With my red Diplomatic Passport, I could sail right through the vast majority of border control points. I guess they were still jittery after the not-so-amicable breakup and were loath to cause any ‘Diplomat’ any grief.
I got away with such shit those days.
Smuggling? “Of course not! I’m a Diplomat!”
Are those rocks of any value? “Of course not! I’m an international geologist and those are but shiny, faceted, green, blue, and red crystalline hand samples!”
Are three cases of vodka really just for ‘personal use’? “Of course not! You’re right. Let me get another one to stuff into the Diplomatic Pouch.”
So, one bright spring day over bilberry-jammed blinis and freshly Samovared-coffee, Esme and I decided that since the kids had such good friends in the complex, we’d farm them out on one Friday night. Then we’d throw a house-warming party for all our new Muscovian friends.
The party was to include several of my Siberian friends and some actual real Muscovites; who we had to strangely invite via registered letter so they could be allowed entrance to our compound.
That was one of the things I didn’t care for in compound living. But, that’s the way it was; and nothing I could do, even grouse about the rules, would change anything.
Esme had invited her entire American Women’s Club, which was composed of North and South American women. They would be bringing their husbands.
We made it sort of clear that this was an adult’s night out. As much as we loved their little ankle-biters, carpet-crawlers, and curtain-climbers; they all needed to take this one as a time out.
It was parent time in the Motherland. I already had ordered up 3 half-barrels of beer and an equal number of cases of vodka. This was not a time for puberty, it was time for adultery.
No, wait. That’s didn’t come out right…it was parent time. A time for parents...
To socialize. To get to know each other. To eat, drink, and act like a bunch of goofy teenagers.
You get a general idea.
Anyways, there were going to be Russians, Siberians; and yes, there is a difference, Czechs, Brazilians, Scots, Americans, Canadians, Dutch, Brits, Australians, Moldovans, Chinese, Nepalese, several from various Stans, Botswanans, Danes, South Africans…ah, hell, there were going to be a lot of the globe represented.
All united by the common threads of bar-be-que, free beer, and ample smokeables.
Luckily, it was fairly equable outside, weather-wise, and we were in-between the seasons of the Spring *Rasputitsa *, or mud season, and the early summer thunderstorms. I had arranged for several large tarps on poles to be erected over the front dais of the house and even more in the back yard.
The back yard would hold all the troughs full of ice, beer, and soft drinks. There would be a separate one for the vodka, cognac, and sweet girly champagne that the local women seemed to really enjoy. These tarps also covered the bar-be-que grills I had made to order a few months previously.
One of the oilfield service companies took some 8 foot-long sections of 42” line pipe, sandblasted them and sawed them in half lengthwise. They were hinged together in back and handles were welded front and back for transport. Set on four stout pipe legs, interior racks were repurposed from some Russian appliances of one sort or another. The ends were welded shut with caps and suddenly, there were a couple of very Texas-sized bar-be-que grills in my backyard.
The company had stuffed the grills into their industrial autoclave and heated the things to 2 or 3 million degrees C. to burn off all the nasty oilfield schmoo. While they were still warm, they were powder coated with electronegative paint, and re-kilned. The result was the grills and racks were surgically clean and coated in a blast-furnace-heat resistant covering of melted porcelain-like glass.
One was red, of course, and one was blue. They were works of art and are still with the service company that created them as I willed them to the company when we left some years later.
Now, bar-be-que and outdoor grilling might be as dull as dishwater to us Norteamericanos, but it was absolutely thrilling for most of our new friends. Many knew of cooking over an open fire, but only during camping, hunting, fishing, or times of natural calamity.
To cook outdoors when it wasn’t really required? Such Western decadence. This was all something thrillingly new and potentially dangerous.
I had arranged for some charcoal to be flown in from Finland, as the stuff available locally just couldn’t cut the mustard, so to speak. It was more loamy and peaty than charcoal-y. The Finnish stuff was as hard as anthracitic coal.
We were going to grill up a half-side of cow, several small suckling pigs, a load of pike-type fish, and just because, a couple of locally sourced briskets, some ‘gamburgers’ and hot dogs.
Just because it was a barbeque. Of epic proportions. Of Rocknocker-esque proportions.
Esme tried several times to reign me in, but after the truck showed up with an entire side of beef, she realized it was a lost cause.
“Rock”, she cooed to me as I tried to stuff the side of beef into our tiny kitchen, “I knew that sooner or later, you’d twist off. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and I guess it’s finally arrived. I just want to let you know, I love you greatly and if I should disappear, I wouldn’t have gone far. I just don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”
“What’s that, m’dear?” I asked while I tore the kitchen apart looking for the Old Bay spice and Dave’s Insanity sauce we smuggled in on our last trip.
“Oh. Nothing, dear.” Es smiled, “Go nuts. But please, be careful.”
“Oh, sure. Yeah. No worries.”, I smiled as I found that ceremonial Gurkha knife, “This will work a treat in cutting up the beef once it’s done.” as I swung the massive thing around like Darth Vader confronting a Rebel contingent.
“Kids”, Es called, “Isn’t it time to go to your friend’s house?”
This all started on a Tuesday afternoon. Es and I had to prepare the menu and then I’d get after what needed getting after.
Besides a half-side of beef on the bar-be-que, as I mentioned, we’d have some stuffed and grilled pike, hot dogs, ‘gamburgers’, a few suckling pigs, a couple of big, meaty briskets, currently corning in the kitchen, and maybe some form of poultry or two.
It’s a meat-heavy menu for a meat-heavy diet round these parts.
I took care of the beer, vodka, champagne, cognac, and gin, well, there’s were going to be some Brits in attendance, soft-drink mixers, and ridiculously expensive citrus fruits. I had the country store on-site crank up their ice machine and had standing orders for all the excess ice they could produce over the next few days.
Roger, my Texan neighbor, confidant, and mechanical engineer buddy who kept to a work schedule which closely mimicked mine, decided he couldn’t let this hapless Baja Canadian handle these whole two grills on his own.
Truth be told, Roger was a major help in fabricating the necessary rotisseries and pipework to spin the pigs and side of beef above the fire. He was keen and adept at drawing things up on paper, but pretty worthless in translating them from two to three dimensions.
That’s where my adroitness and past experiences with a pipe cutter and welding torch, again, ‘borrowed’ from the oilfield service company, along with their pipe-rack truck, came into its own. He designed, we both cut the appropriate metal, and I metal-glued them in place.
Roger ‘located’ a couple of large electrical motors, one capable of turning the 300 pounds of cow on the one spit and one efficient in handling the ‘pig basket’ of about 250 pounds of young piglet that was going to be prepared. Each was several dozen horsepower in displacement and heavy as a motherfucker. They stood alone on the ground, while Roger fabricobbled up a drive-train system and electrical controls for each.
What began as a simple ‘C’mon over for a back yard bar-be-que’ had turned into something of which NASA would have been proud.
Picture this: 2 eight-foot-long, 42” diameter pipe grills, one gleaming red, one shining blue, with a Rube Goldberg set of pipe contraption A-frames making a pair of rotisseries; one driven by a 30HP 3-phase electric motor, the other by one only churning out 20 HP. There was a separate control tower Roger ginned up which contained the start-stop switches and rheostats which controlled the rotation of the beeve and baconators.
With all that, we still had room for four stuffed pike, each at least a meter in length, my briskets, a few butterflied chickens, hot dogs and ‘gamburgers’.
“Nothing succeeds like excess”, I said to Roger as I toasted him with the second or eighth beer of the morning.
He agreed with me and stole yet another cigar.
The beef was turning slowly over a low fire of finest Finnish hardwood. This was calculated to take at least 2.5 days to complete. The suckling pigs I’d start the next morning. If all went to plan, we’d have everything ready for dinner by 1700 that Friday.
Well, the meat’s taken care of, as were the drinks.
Esme and Linda, Roger’s wife, grabbed Valosh and made a trek into downtown to Stockman’s Pantry for some typically American repasts.
Cans of baked beans, fresh lettuce, rocket, radicchio, romaine, and other salad-y makings. Several varieties of fresh fruit, Emmenthal cheese and melting Dutch chocolate for the fondues that Es set up every single time we had a gathering.
It was a tradition.
We’d source much of the remainder of the party munchies locally. There was a bakery just around the corner of the compound and after buying our bread there for months, we got to know the proprietors quite well. We explained the concept of the “tortilla chip” and damn if they didn’t create a very passable Russian version.
We created our own flavorings for dusting over them, and I think we were the absolute first to come out with a caviar-flavored chip. Potato chips were easy enough to make, as were soft tortillas, but we were coming up shy on dips.
Substituting unflavored Greek yogurt for the more usual labneh back in the Middle East, I converted some of our imported biryani masala, lamb masala, curry mix, and other Middle Eastern spices into chip dips.
You haven’t lived until you’ve had Red Caviar flavored Russian tortilla chips with a healthy dollop of garam Masala and yogurt dip.
As Emmanuel from Argentina sniffingly said: “It’s a brilliant antihistamine.”
I contracted with a batch of local school-aged kids to pick fresh mushrooms for the party.
Russians are just crazy over mushrooms. However, as we were to find out, they will only eat them cooked; having them raw for dipping or in salads really gave them pause.
Ah, just another twist on the usual house warming party.
The cow continued cooking, the porks were happily spinning along in their private horizontal merry-go-round and the Finnish cooking wood was holding out well. The smells emanating from our corner of the compound had many, many people wandering over wondering who was opening the restaurant.
Thursday slid into Friday. I took the car and made a mad dash for the Mitino Ramstore to replenish our butter, paprika and vodka stocks. Seems all those Russian bottles had holes in them…
I was actually using a good supply of the stuff in cooking. Take a cup or so of good vodka, taste-test it, just in case, restore to proper measure and heat it gently as to not incinerate your eyebrows. Add a cup or so of berries, and a cup of sugar, and a smidge of molasses. Heat until just right. Repeat until you have enough drunken berries to fill a pie crust; graham cracker or otherwise.
You can freeze this and serve it with whipped cream frozen or bake it until the berries bubble; then you can serve it with ice cream.
I made homemade ice cream as well for the evening’s festivities. To a standard vanilla base of sugar, egg yolks, and hot heavy crème, you whip this stuff until it can’t take it any longer and it goes all custardy. Then you add your flavorings and churn the hell out of it over rock salt and ice.
Result?
Mint chocolate chip with Cornish crème de menthe.
Rum raisin with Jamaican dark RUM.
Watermelon ice and spirit. Spirt is homemade Siberian rocket fuel. Pretty close to 200 proof as one can get.
Rocky road with pecans, marshmallows, caramel, chocolate truffle, and Napoleon cognac.
Bourbon vanilla with fresh Madagascar vanilla-bean vanilla.
“You can’t get booze to freeze in ice cream!” I hear some wag yell.
“You can if you freeze the stuff with liquid nitrogen!” I yell back.
I have access to all sorts of fun, sciency stuff. Liquid nitrogen is as much a cooking staple as is liquid oxygen.
We’ll save the Great Grill Meltdown story of 2002 for a later date.
Friday morning, as I was out tending the grills, several of Esme’s friends from the compound showed up to help set up for the evening’s festivities.
“Great”, I thought, “They’re in there, I’m out here with the vodka and beer. All is right with the world.”
There was a flurry of activity as each of Esme’s friends busied themselves with a different portion of the party. One was handling the desserts, one was preparing the salads, one was setting out the plates, cups (first time for red Solo Cozy Cups in Russia), and silverware. It was going to be a very informal sort of party, but evidently, there was a certain protocol to follow.
Flowers appeared from the Babushka Mafia; where we had a standing order. A huge centerpiece filled what seemed half the dining room table. A fire was started in the fireplace.
Why?
Because.
Reasons.
OK.
Me? I just stayed out of their way.
Esme started up her fondue pots; ones we’ve had since day one of our marriage. Into one went a four-cheese mixture of Emmenthal, edam, cheddar, and brie cheese, along with some light white wine. Into the other pot went a kilo or so of melting chocolate, imported from the Netherlands or other European someplace. Some very expensive, 45-year-old cognac went into that pot to facilitate meltage. There was some nutmeg, cinnamon, saffron, and other spices as well.
Potato salads were made and brought out, covered under chilled cheesecloths as the fridge was hopelessly full at this point. Green salads were made, with and without locally-produced mushrooms. The whole table groaned after a fairly short time from it’s covering of fruits, breads, beans, salsas, salads, and other party fares.
The ice creams I had made were up at the country store near the entrance to the compound, We had no room and they graciously ‘rented’ out some of their freezer space. All it cost were a few rubles and a couple of quarts of ice cream.
The horse troughs out back were stocked with kegs of beer, tappers, and bottles of booze, all on ice. There was one smaller trough full of Russian soft drinks, juices, fizzy and still waters, and other things that would probably stave off if not prevent total alcohol poisoning.
Olga, our house girl, insisted on stuffing and preparing the pike for the grill. She was a wonder. She was teaching the girls, and truth be told, Es and I, Russian and Ukrainian. She insisted on making dinner anytime Es or I wandered into the kitchen looking for a sandwich and generally made us feel like some sort of privileged class. We didn’t want that at all and went out of our way to make certain we treated her like family.
She was scrupulously honest, and when we included 250 extra rubles for her first week since all the extra work she took upon herself; she actually chewed us out for being too “credulous”.
“People will take advantage.”, she scolded, “I agree to weekly pay, no more. I will not make you more naïve.”
I finally got her to take it for payment for the language lessons.
She was a real polymath. She helped the girls with homework, ran interference with any local entanglements, and could cook like there was no tomorrow. She was a peach, pure and simple.
Plus, she liked my cigars and loved cognac.
We got on like a house afire.
She also knew her way around a fish. She had those four-meter long critters gutted, scaled, stuffed and trussed as good as any Michelin starred chef in any international seafood house.
They went on the grill, just to the south of my briskets. The chickens would only take a couple of hours over this low and slow heat and the aromas of them comingled with the other proteins were intoxicating.
Or it might have been the potato juice and beer marinades I was using for the various bits of animal carcass.
Vodka, melted butter, smoked Himalayan salt, and smoked Hungarian paprika was brushed liberally over the butterflied chickens. Many times during their grilling tenure.
Beer, a tomato reduction sauce, molasses, maple syrup, and cognac graced our rapidly caramelizing roasted piglets.
Bourbon, coffee, treacle, and a few secret ingredients made up the sauce for the beef. It went on every 100 or so turns.
The brisket and pike were left alone, except for some fish masala for the pikes and Old Bay mixture for the briskets. The grill was closed on these and they were allowed to continue more or less unmolested.
The day drew along and it was soon noon. The house was decked out very festively. The girls were going directly over to the neighbor’s after school so it was now T-5 hours to party time. But with all our help, there’s wasn’t much to do. It was all pretty much done.
Roger assured me he’d stop over at the country store and pick up the pies, ice cream and extra ice in our amassed coolers when he returned from work, around 1500 hours. So that was taken care of.
Esme decided she wanted a shower and nap before the evening’s frivolities, and since everything had already been done I couldn’t agree more. We kissed and smiled at our good fortune and taste in friends and neighbors, as she headed upstairs for a bit of kip.
The cow was turning, the pigs were spinning, the pike and briskets were smoking and I decided to grab a lawn chair, fire up a cigar and sit out back enjoying the warmish afternoon in northwestern Moscow. Oh, sure; I nodded off a few times, but made certain my charges were well looked after. Be silly to get this far and have things go south.
Roger showed up around 1600 hours and I helped him move all the coolers into the garage, as there just wasn’t room in the house nor kitchen, it was that stuffed with party favors. The meat was approaching that point where it was done to if you’ll pardon the expression, a turn.
Roger sampled a piece of the spinny cow and declared it good enough for a Texas rodeo.
High praise indeed.
He left and would return with Linda in perhaps an hour.
I went to wake Es and got her in the shower with a cup of coffee. I decided to forego the shower and helped myself to another pre-party cocktail.
5:00 PM arrived and our guests…did not.
Roger and Linda, our only North American invitees showed up around 1730.
Es, myself, Roger and Linda sat around chatting and nibbling, wondering where the hell everyone else was. I even motored up to the gate to see if the officious guards were giving any of my local invitees any grief and thus holding them up.
No. They hadn’t shown up as of yet.
Back to the house, and now, I’ve dealt with the Arabic version of showing up for a meeting, party, or operation. These characters will be late for their own autopsy. I thought punctuality was more prized in the European community.
I fiddled around with the grills and turned everything to ‘warm’. I was, truth be told, a bit miffed at all this. I had spent a fair fortune on feeding these characters, you would think…
At that precise moment, the doors burst open. The crowds had arrived. All a bit ‘fashionably late’, but with their gird on and ready to party. There was no mention of their unpunctuality, but huge bear hugs, back slaps, and depositions of house warming gifts, all bottles of some form or another of alcohol, typically rare and reflecting the origin of the giver.
The party went from absolute silence to incredible raucousness in nothing flat. I still had to man the grills, so I dragooned Roger into being the ad hoc bartender. Esme and Linda were showing folks around the place, making the perfunctory tour before the inevitable feeding and drinking. Roger was busier than a one-handed paperhanger in a windstorm. I helped out best I could by tapping the kegs and passing around the Solo Cozy cups, which made a huge hit among the Western and Eastern Europeans.
Of course, the stereo was cranked up. Between Esme’s classical music and my 60s and 70s rock collections, the place began vibrating. Luckily, we had the forethought to invite the neighbors who lived immediately adjacent to us.
After the initial drinks were disbursed, it was time for the first rounds of nibbly bits. Being in Russia, one simply cannot have a drink without a nosh. Esme’s fondues were incredible hits. Since fondue is a Scandinavian invention, we figured it’d be more well known here. Evidently not as several folks had to be given instructions as to how to build a cheesy or chocolatey snack.
The dips, crudités, amuse bouche, and chips went over very well. We had people from Africa, Asia, Europe, both Americas, Australia and other ports of call not yet mapped. Everyone had their story of foods back home that mimicked our offerings. It was most entertaining to hear stories of the braai, pit roast, chuanr, yakitori, satay, khorkhog, tandoor, and the like.
But it was the whole, well, a half grilled cow that boinged everyone’s eyes. The whole suckling pigs, smoked stuffed pike, briskets, and chickens also got their share of gapes. I had some hamburgers and hot dogs in case anyone was about to go hungry.
Over more rounds of drinks, I announced that I’d be carving up the meat and setting it out, for everyone to help themselves.
Olga shouldered her way through the crowd with my Gurkha knife and a couple of large platters. First off were two of the whole smoked and stuffed pike. These were attacked with abandon, much to Esme’s alarm as people missed the salads and zeroed in straight on the protein.
Olga sorted them all out by pointing out proper party protocol and for people to take notice of the assortment of bread, salads, Jellos, and fresh fruits provided to accompany the meals.
Properly chastised, some sense of party decorum returned as the beer continued to flow, the empty vodka bottles stacked up and my cigar humidors went, for the time being, unnoticed.
I carved off great, bleeding hunks of cow. It was so tender I could have butchered the thing with a pleasant remark. Some were blue, some were medium and some, down the way along the beast, we well done. I carved up huge hunks of each for all to take that which they would please.
The chickens came off the grill next, and after a few deft knife swipes, were deboned and ready for consumption. The briskets were resting on a sideboard in the kitchen and Olga assured me she’d take care of them as long as I handled the disassembly of the suckling pigs.
Taking a quick restroom break, I was amazed to see one of our living room tables completely covered by bottles of wine, champagne, spirits, and who-knows-what. These were our inevitable house warming gifts from our assembled friends.
There was much greeting and handshaking as I tried to make my way to the facilities. I could hear Valosh and his wife somewhere in the madding crowd, but this was simply going to have to wait. Internal pressure was approaching critical limits.
I decided to keep station out by the grills as I still needed to handle the roast suckling pigs. I figured that if people were wondering where I was, follow their nose out to the bars and grill; I’d be around somewhere close.
Roger dragged a table over from his backyard to give me some room to disassemble the little porkers. He kept up with his bartending duties and I reduced those crispy little pork packets into more eatable size pieces. People had gotten the idea that enough with me bringing in the grilled food, they’d just come outside and get it fresh off the cooker.
The party was going into high gear. People were showing up who I didn’t know, and after quizzing Esme, she had no idea as well. Didn’t make a bit of difference; there was no way we’d run out of food or drink, and as long as we’re here, we international ambassadors of general amity. As long as these interlopers behaved themselves, no one had any objections.
There was one small incident where some local younger hooligans tried to swipe a couple of bottles of booze off the living room table. Some older Russian gentlemen, Heroes of the Soviet Union all, relieved the hooligans of their ill-gotten gains. Somewhat forcefully. They gifted them instead cuffed ears, kicks up the backside and swats on the back of the head as they admonished them off the property.
We learned later these older Russian gentlemen were both maintenance and security for the compound. We were most pleased to make their acquaintance and happy they could join us.
The house was packed, the front yard was packed, the back was really packed. Everyone was eating and drinking like there was no tomorrow. And as tomorrow was Saturday, the international day of rest and hangover nursing, and since we’re so far north, we’re starting to get into White Nights territory, this was going to be a long, long night.
The pike were gone. All four, consumed.
The briskets were as well. I was told they were ‘very good’. I’ll have to take their word for it, I never as much as got a slice.
Chickens? Disappeared. Gone without a trace.
Piglets? We had about one small half left.
The side of beef? Well, there were still a few steaks left, as I carved myself a healthy hunk, but I was amazed at the feeding frenzy we had just witnessed. It was mostly gone as well. Maybe enough for a few sandwiches come the morning.
The salads were most appreciated and devoured. Even Esme’s grandmothers bit-o-a-joke lime Jell-O with carrots and peas disappeared. Bread? Mostly gone. Chips and dips? Still holding out, but would never survive the night.
Esme and I were glad everyone was getting their fill.
Everyone was finishing up on the main courses and all helped pitch in to clean up any trash and do what few dishes Olga hadn’t yet gotten to. There was an actual lull in the gathering as now it was time for a post-dinner smoke and a bit of rest before dessert.
Roger and his teenage son went out in the garage and brought back the 4 coolers full of bespoke ice cream. One would think ice cream wouldn’t be terribly relished by denizens of the far north. Au contraire. The locals love the stuff. In fact, I haven’t found a single person who has actually refused a bowl of my homemade nitrogenized ice cream.
Esme broke out the plastic bowls and announced that there were homemade pie and ice cream available out back.
“Name your poison”, I chuckled.
That idiom took some time to explain across 20 or so different languages.
There was a problem though. People may be familiar with chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream; but Rum Raisin, Vodkamelon ice, and Crème de menthe chocolate chip? This was ‘terra incognita’ for most everyone.
What better way to sort it all out by providing samplers of each of the flavors in one bowl?
I froze the plastic bowls in liquid nitrogen then placed smallish scoops of each flavor ice cream in each.
“Just a sample”, I said, “So you can figure out which you like best.”
It took a bit of translating, but soon everyone got the idea.
Once I dished out the mixed-berry pie, there was no clear winner on which ice cream flavor was the favorite. They were all consumed 100%. Some actually came back for thirds.
And the pie was good, or so I was told.
Once more, after the dessert course, the whole area was policed clean. Food, drink and various fun activities started to take their toll. Things were beginning to quiet down.
Then I forgot and went to my humidor and grabbed a smoke.
Over a couple of boxes of cigars, impromptu Bocce ball, lawn darts, and corn hole games broke out. I mean, it’s 2200 hours, you have a huge cigar, it’s still light. What better than tossing around heavy metal balls, pointed oversized darts, or bean bags at holes sawn in plywood?
Then Laurens-Jan and his wife, Fientje broke out the Absinthe Fountain.
An absinthe fountain is not for dispensing absinthe, but rather for dispensing water.
A typical absinthe fountain is an ornate vessel with several taps around its central water container, which permits a number of drinkers to louche their absinthe at the same time. On contact with water, absinthe will louche -- or develop a certain subtle clouding that will slowly transform the drink's color from deep emerald into a delightful shade of opalescent light green.
They had brought a couple of bottles of King of Spirits Absinth from Denmark with them.
Just for a side note, the stuff is 70% alcohol or 140 proof.
As if the evening needed another shot in the arm.
The Absinthe Fountain louched four drinks at a time. It did so in a mesmerizing and nearly hypnotizing manner so that when the drink was ready for consumption, one could scarcely decline.
OK, there was still a half-barrel or so of beer out in the backyard, probably a case or so of spirits of various denominations swimming around back there as well. There was an active absinthe loacher going on in the dining room, cigars were being had by most everyone and games of very little skill were being attempted out in the yard.
The party had found its high watermark.
People had achieved what we Baja Canadians would call ‘blissed’. It’s that feeling you get, sitting out under a basic roof, at a rained-out ballgame or after trekking all over a country or state fair, sitting with several pitchers of probably somewhat flat and lukewarm beer, feet up and just enjoying the hell out of the universe.
It’s a rare condition, but I think we attained it here.
Spontaneous card games erupted: cribbage, Schafskopf, Canasta, poker, and spit.
The music toned down and was more instrumental than the early electronica synth-pop of dinner. Conversations broke out. Friendships were made and cemented.
Bliss had been achieved.
One of those friendships came back the very next day to haunt us.
Dr. Dumitru Hurgoi and his wife, Dr. Anamaria Stelymes, veterinarians both, showed up at our door early the next afternoon; planned strategically after the girls had returned from school.
Seems Dr. Dumitru heard me lamenting the loss of our Lady McBeast a few years prior and how our daughters were missing having a pet or two around the house.
Drs. Dumitru and Anamaria ran the local chapter of the Russian version of the Society of Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. They had just taken possession of a litter of little, pure-snow-white Samoyed pups that had been abandoned at their clinic.
They made their entrance carefully, making certain the girls saw all 6 puppies as they spilled, oops, out of the box and into our villa. They were about 5 weeks old, very inquisitive and were immediately all over the house. It took us over an hour to round them all up.
Of course, at that time, we had a great deal of exposure to each of the pups.
Of course, we couldn’t be cads and refuse to take at least one for our very own. It was Khris, already starting her studies to be a large animal veterinarian, that ran each of the pups through her testing scales to see which would be the most appropriate for our family.
That all didn’t matter, as Tash glommed onto one little female and refused to give her up.
We took the smaller female puppy of the litter. It proved to be the best idea of the time because once she was removed from the bump and tussle of the litter, she really came into her own.
So, that afternoon, I signed the papers on the ownership of “Zima”, Russian for “Winter” due to her snow-white countenance.
Smart? Like a whip. Clever. Inquisitive? Oh, yes. A footwear thief?
Until we left Russia, I never had a matching pair of socks again.
To be continued

Terms to know for games with traditional playing cards

Most specialized hobbies and interests have their own terminology, and the world of traditional playing cards is no different. Most readers likely have some experience with traditional playing cards and the games that can be played with them, so you are probably already familiar with quite a few common terms and words that are used. But are you sure that you're using the right words? It's easy to learn new terms from other people, but that doesn't guarantee you're giving them the right meaning.
What is the difference, for example, between a court card, a picture card, and a face card? What exactly is meant by a spot card, and are there more common terms for the same thing? What are the proper names for all the four suits, and should we have a preference for "clovers" or "clubs"? As for card games, could you explain the difference between a hand and a trick, and can you distinguish between the stock and a tableau?
I've put together a glossary of terms to help out. If you're already an established card connoisseur, this glossary will help give you a quick refresher course and polish your existing knowledge. If you're quite new to traditional playing cards, this list will help you become more informed. And if you enjoy card handling and games with traditional playing cards, this collection of terms will also prove useful. Whatever the case, knowing a thing or two about the language of playing cards will help us enjoy them and the games we play with them all the more!

Playing Card Terms

These terms relate to playing cards themselves, with common words and phrases relating to how they are made and what they look like.
Ace. The number one card of each suit. Black Lady. The Queen of Spades, also called the Black Maria. Bridge-size. A narrow size playing card with a width of 2.25 inches, contrasted with the more common 2.5 inch wide "poker-size". Color. Spades and Clubs are considered "Black" in color, while Hearts and Diamonds are considered "Red". Deuce. A card with two pips. Cellophane. The protective plastic shrink-wrap that most decks of playing cards are wrapped in. Clubs. English term for the French suit trefle, corresponding to swords (Italian/Spanish), and acorns (Swiss/German). Coating. The protective coating applied in the final stages of the printing process by the playing card manufacturer. Cold foil stamping. The modern method of printing metallic foil (contrasted with "hot foil"), which uses printing plates instead of stamping tools. Court cards. Kings, Queens, and Jacks. Also called "face cards" or "picture cards". Deck. A pack of playing cards, usually 52 cards plus two Jokers. Diamonds. English term for the French suit "carreau", corresponding to coins (Italian/Spanish), and bells (Swiss/German). Embossing. The dimpled "finish" on the surface of the cards themselves; can also refer to the raised surface that are parts of the tuck box design. Face cards. Kings, Queens, and Jacks. Also called "court cards" or "picture cards". Face-down. A card placed so that its back is showing, while its face is adjacent to the table. Face-up. A card placed so that its number or picture is showing. Fanning powder. A white powder (usually zinc stearate) used to improve handling by reduce the friction between playing cards. Finish. The type of embossing used on the surface of a playing card, typically this is smooth or embossed. Foil. A shiny metallic material applied to the surface of a playing card or tuck box, usually by a process of hot or cold foil stamping. Hearts. English term for the French suit "coeur", corresponding to cups (Italian/Spanish), flowers (Swiss), and hearts (German). Hot foil stamping. The older method of printing metallic foil (contrasted with "cold foil"), where a heated die is used to stamp metallic foil onto a playing card at high temperatures. Index. The small numbeletter and suit symbol in the corner of a card that shows its suit and value, especially useful in a fanned hand. Joker. Extra card that comes with a 52 card deck, and used in some games as a wild card or the highest trump. Knave. The Jack of a suit. Marked. A deck that has secret marks integrated into the artwork on the back of the cards, often enabling the suit and rank of the card to be identified. Metallic ink. A liquid ink containing metallic particles which reflect light, usually creating a less intense effect than metallic foil Numerals. Number cards, as opposed to courts, also called "pip cards" or "spot cards". One-eyes. The Jack of Spades, Jack of Hearts, and King of Diamonds. One-way. A back design that isn't symmetrical, enabling cards rotated 180 degrees to be easily identified. Pack. A deck of playing cards, usually 52 cards plus two Jokers. Pasteboards. Another term for playing cards, originating from when the front and back of a card were literally pasted together. Picture cards. Kings, Queens, and Jacks. Also called "court cards" or "face cards". Pip. The large suit symbols on a card (Spade, Club, Heart, or Diamond) Pip value. The numerical value of a card. Poker-size. A standard size playing card with a width of 2.5 inches, contrasted with the narrow 2.25 inch wide "bridge-size". Rank. The ordinal position (number value) of a card in a suit, e.g. 2 of Diamonds and 2 of Clubs have the same rank, while a King outranks a Queen. This is sometimes also called "denomination". Seal. The sticker used to seal a box of playing cards; a practice which originated with tax stamps. Smooth. An unembossed surface. Soft. Card-stock that bends easily. Spades. English term for the French suit "pique", corresponding to batons (Italian), clubs (Spanish), escutcheons (Swiss), and leaves (German). Spot card. Any card from 2 through 10, also called "pip cards", as opposed to "court cards". Spot UV: A secondary printing process which adds a clear gloss coating to selected parts of a card or tuck box in order to add sheen and texture. Stock. The type of paper used for the manufacturing of a playing card. Suicide King. King of Hearts, so named due to the traditional orientation of the sword he usually holds. Trey. A card with three pips. Tuck. Short form for "tuck box", which is the box or case containing the deck.

Card Handling Terms

Many of these terms relate to handling a deck of playing cards, and some of them are especially important for those who do card magic.
Biddle Grip. Taking a deck out of Mechanics Grip by grasping the top and bottom edges, holding it with your thumb on one edge and your index finger on the other edge. Also called "End Grip", this is the most common way to hold a deck along with the "Mechanics Grip". Bridge. A classy flourish where two interwoven halves of a deck spring together. Burn. Reveal and then bury a card. Bury. Place a card at the bottom of the deck, or in the middle of the deck so it can't be easily located Cut. Divide the deck into two packets, and reverse their order. Deal. Pass out cards to the other players. In card games this is usually done from a face-down pack, in clockwise order starting with the player on the dealer's left. Dealers Grip. See under "Mechanics Grip". Dribble. Releasing a deck of cards one at a time from the fingers and thumb so that they fall downwards in a steady flow. Fan. A spread of cards held in a semi-circular shape, with overlapping cards that show the indices. Faro. A shuffling method where the two halves of the deck interweave perfectly like a zipper exactly one card at a time. Flash. Expose a card accidentally while dealing or handling a deck. Flip. Turn a card face up. Flourish. A visually impressive display of skill performed with playing cards. Force. Making a spectator select a predetermined card apparently at "random". Hindu. A shuffling method from Asia where the cards are moved in lengthwise packets. Key Card. A known card in a deck, typically adjacent to the spectator's selected unknown card. Mechanics Grip. Holding a deck squarely in the center of your left hand, as if you were dealing cards for a game. Also called "Dealers Grip", this is the most common way to hold a deck of cards. Outjog. Push out a card from a deck so that its top half is protruding and visible above the other cards. Overhand. A shuffling method where the cards are moved in sideways packets; the most commonly method of shuffling cards. Packet. Part of a deck, usually consisting of a number of individual cards. Ribbon spread. A "spread" of cards across a table or mat. Riffle. A shuffling method where the deck is divided into two packets, and using the thumbs to making the cards fall quickly and interweave together. Scaling. A specialized technique in throwing cards frisbee-style at high speed. Shuffle. Randomizing the cards in a deck by a mixing process. Smear fan. A fan made with one hand, and often using only half the deck. Spread. Showing a hand, packet, or deck of cards face-up, often with cards overlapping. Spring. A flashy flourish where the entire deck springs one card at a time from hand to hand. Square. Straightening the edges of a deck in the hands or on the table. Stacked deck. A deck where the cards are set-up with a pre-arranged order. Strip. Remove low cards from a deck. Thumb fan. A fan made by holding the entire deck in one hand and using the thumb of the other hand to spread it. Vanish. Make something disappear.

Card Game Terms

Many individual card games have their own terms, such as Euchre (Bower, Going Alone, Order Up, March), Cribbage (Crib, Go, His Heels, His Nob, Muggins, Peg, Starter), and Poker (Blind, Check, Hole Card, Straight), so this is not an exhaustive list, but focuses on terms that are common to most card games.
Ace High (or Low). The Ace is the highest (or lowest) ranked card in a suit. Age. Order of priority in play, starting with the player who must first bid, bet, or lead. This usually begins with the player ("eldest hand") on the left of the dealer. Announce. Name a trump suit or show your melds. Ante. A bet or contribution to the pot made before the deal. Auction. The period of bidding before cards are played, to establish the conditions of the game (e.g. the trump suit, how many tricks are needed to win). Bank. The dealer or house in a gambling game. Best. Highest ranking card. Bid. A proposal to win a specific number of tricks or points. Bidder. Any player who makes a bid, or the player who makes the highest bet. Blank. A card worth nothing in a card-point game; or alternatively a hand without court cards. Blank suit. Having no cards of a specific suit, sometimes also referred to as void. Bluff. Pretend you have better or different cards than what you actually have in hand. Buy. Draw from the stock or widow. Carte Blanche. A hand with no court cards (but may contain an Ace), also called a "blank". Case card. The final card of a particular rank that remains in play. Catch. Getting valuable cards when drawing from the stock or widow. Chicane. A dealt hand that has no trumps. Chip. A token or gaming counter used in gambling games in place of money. Coffee housing. Acting or speaking in a way to mislead your opponents about the cards you have in hand. Combination. A set of cards recognized by the game rules as having a scoring value, usually a set of the same rank or suit. Contract. Obligation to win a certain number of tricks or points. Coup. A winning play or bet, or an especially good play. Cover. Playing a card higher than the previous highest card in a trick. Cut-throat. A variant of a partnership game where players play for themselves against the other players. Dealer. The person who deals cards to the other players. Declare. Announce the contract or conditions of play (e.g. name a trump suit, or the number of tricks to be won). Alternatively, this can mean to show and score the valid combinations (e.g. melds) of cards in your hand. Declarer. The person who is the highest bidder, who declares, and then has the aim of making good the stated contract. Discard. Putting an unwanted card to the discard pile, sometimes called "throw off" and used to refer to playing a worthless card in a trick. Discard pile. The cards that have been discarded during pile, usually face up. Doubleton. Holding two cards of the same suit. Draw. Take an additional card, usually from the draw pile or stock, and sometimes from the top of the discard pile. Draw pile. The cards remaining after the deal, also called the stock. Drinking game. Typically has the aim of producing a loser rather than a winner, who must buy the next round. Eldest hand. The player besides the dealer (usually on his left) who receives cards first and plays first; sometimes also called first hand. Exchange. Trade a number of cards from your hand with another player, or draw from the stock and discard the same number (or in the opposite order). Exit. Force another player to win a trick, or get out of being the player who leads. Finesse. Holding back a certain winning card and playing a card of lesser strength in the hope of capturing an extra trick. Flush. A hand of cards of the same suit. Fold. Drop out, usually by turning down your face-up cards. Follow. Play second or third etc after a trick has been "led". Follow suit. Play a card of the same suit as the first card played. Four of a kind. Four cards of the same rank, e.g. four tens. In some games this is called a "book". Full house. A combination of five cards that includes a three-of-a-kind and a pair. Gambling game. A game played for money. Go out. Play your last card, thus getting rid of all cards in your hand. Hand. Cards dealt or held by a player during a game. Alternatively a "hand" can refer to the portion of a game from when the cards are dealt until they are all played. Hand-play. Playing without using a widow. Head. Play a higher card than any thus far played to a trick. Honors. The high cards of a suit (Ace, King, Queen, and Jack, and sometimes also the 10), especially if they have scoring value. Knock. Indicating that all your cards are melded (e.g. in Rummy), or that you won't make a further bet (e.g. in Poker). Lead. Play the first card of a trick; alternatively, as a reference to this card. Long card. A card in your hand in a suit that opponents no longer have. Maker. The player who names the trump suit. Marriage. King and Queen of a suit. Master card. The highest ranked card in a suit that is live or unplayed. Meld. A matched set of three or more cards having the same rank, or having the same suit and being in consecutive order. As a verb, "meld" means to declare or lay out one or more such sets. This term is mainly used in Rummy. No-trump. A declaration where the hand is played with no trump suit. Nullo. A declaration where the aim is to avoid winning tricks or points. Pair. Two cards of the same rank. Partnership. Two or more players working co-operative to win. Pass. Declare that you don't bid or bet, or that you withdraw from the current deal. Pot. The money or chips representing a game's bets, sometimes also called a "kitty" or "pool". Plain card. A non-trump card, sometimes also called "plain suit". Play. Take a card from your hand and use it in a game. Raise. Increase a preceding bet. Renege. A failure to play a required card, usually when you don't follow suit; also called "revoke". Renounce. Play a card other than the suit led. Round. When all players participate once in a deal, bet, or play of a card. Rubber. A set of three successive games; usually so described in matches of Whist or Bridge. Ruff. Play a trump in a trick led with a plain suit. Run. A sequence of two or more cards of adjacent rank, which in some games must be of the same suit; sometimes also simply called a "sequence". Sandbagging. The strategy of holding back cards in a good hand to trap an opponent into a greater loss later in the hand. Sequence. A "run" of two or more cards of adjacent rank, which in some games must be of the same suit. Shedding. Games where the aim is to be the first to get rid of all your cards. Singleton. Holding one card of any suit. Stock. The cards remaining after the deal, also called the draw pile. Three of a kind. Three cards of the same rank, e.g. three tens; sometimes called a "triplet". Tops. Highest cards in a suit. Trick. One card from each player, usually won and taken by the player who played the highest or best card. Trick-taking. Games based on the principle of trick-play. Trump. A selected suit that outranks the other suits, e.g. a Two of a trump suit will beat a King of any other suit. As a verb, "trump" means to play a trump card that beats other non-trump cards. Turn. In rotation, a player's opportunity to deal, declare, bet, or play. Turn up. A card placed face-up after the deal, to determine (or propose) the trump suit. Unload. Get rid of the dangerous cards from your hand. Void. Having no cards of a specific suit, sometimes also referred to as "blank suit". As a verb, "void" means the act of discarding all cards of a suit to achieve this. Widow. Extra cards that are dealt face-down at the start of the game which don't belong to a particular player; often a player is given opportunity to exchange some cards with it. Wild card. A card that can be used to represent the rank/suit of any other card (as allowed by the game rules), usually as designated by its holder. Youngest hand. The player last in turn to bid or play (contrast with "eldest hand"). In two player games this is the dealer, who is sometimes also called a "pone".

Solitaire Game Terms

Solitaire or patience games often have their own terminology, so a separate section has been devoted to this.
Available. A card available to be played or transferred in the layout, and which is not blocked. Blocked. A card that that is partially or completely covered by another card, and thus not available to be played or transferred in the layout. Build. Transfer and lay cards in the tableau. Build up. Laying cards on a Foundation card in ascending order of rank. Build down. Laying cards on a Foundation card in descending order of rank. Cascade. Cards built on each other, but where the indices of all the cards are still visible. Center. Part of the layout in the middle. Column. Cards in a vertical line extending toward you, where the may cards overlap but show their indices, usually in a tableau. File. A column in the tableau. Foundation. A card in the center on which other cards are built up or down, often an Ace or a King. Hand. The draw pile or stock that remains after the tableau is laid out. In Sequence. A requirement that cards be placed on one another exactly one higher (or lower). Layout. The prescribed arrangement of cards dealt out, consisting of the tableau, and possibly a stock and foundations. Re-deal. After the initial stock has been used, to use the cards from the Waste pile. Row. A line of cards side by side, where the cards may overlap but still show their indices. Space. A vacancy in the tableau as a result of removing the cards of one pile. Stack. Cards placed on each other so only the top card is visible. Tableau. The prescribed arrangement of cards dealt out, i.e. the layout excluding the stock and foundations; in some games the tableau refers to the entire layout. Talon. Cards turned up from the stock or hand and laid aside in one or more packets as unwanted or unplayable; sometimes also called a "waste" or "waste-pile". Waive. Being able to lift a card and play the card below it. Waste. See under "Talon". Wrapping. Allowing a sequence where an Ace can continue from a King; also called "Building around the corner".
Author's note: I first published this article at PlayingCardDecks here.

what color poker chips represent video

The poker room at the Wynn casino also includes brown chips valued at $2 and peach chips valued at $3. California There are no legal mandates on gaming chip colors in California, but there is a common color coding used in most organized games: Poker chips are standard units for playing poker professionally, worldwide. Here’s a quick guide to poker chip values. This will apprise of how much value each colour of poker chip holds. Common chip colors are red, white, black, blue and green, and most poker sets will keep to this simple color scheme. Ultimately it doesn't matter what value each color represents; it won't have any effect on the game. Choose whichever makes sense for you, whether that be copying your local Casino, or the ones in Las Vegas. The Tropicana Casino in Atlantic City, New Jersey has used pink chips in $7.50-$15 and $10-$20 poker games. Low-denomination yellow chips can vary in value: $20 by statute in Atlantic City and Illinois (which, oddly, also uses “mustard yellow” $0.50 chips); $5 at most Southern California poker rooms; $2 at Foxwoods’ poker room in Ledyard Poker chip values are set in US dollars, but you can assign an equivalent amount in pound sterling. Therefore: white poker chips generally represent 60p; red chips are valued at £3.20; blue chips are worth £6.50; green chips have a value of £16 and black chips represent £65. As mentioned before, poker chips come in unique values to color combinations. And this varies depending on the casino that you’re in. Orange and Grey – these chips often represent $1000 For the complete color scheme available in poker chip sets, however, there is the brown chip which is worth a whopping $5000, followed by light blue chips worth $2000, burgundy chips which are worth $1000, purple chips which go for $500, pink chips which are worth $250, black chips worth $100, orange chips worth $50, green chips worth $25, grey Tournament Poker Chips Values & Colors. Poker tournaments are different from cash games as blinds constantly change. So, tournaments usually require a wider array of poker chip denominations. Also, tournaments traditionally start at higher blind levels like 25/50 or 50/100, so smaller poker chips values aren’t needed. They can represent anything, it is only the amounts printed on them that have any real meaning. For poker cash games and normal casino chips, the cash value is the same as the amount on the chip, whether that be dollars, Euros or Rupee. For poke... Standard Poker Chips Values and Colors Along with those playing cards, poker chips are a huge part of any game. Chips of varying colours can represent money in a cash game. They also use certain values during tournaments. It’s something most players take for granted. Players simply buy in and take a seat at the table.

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What denomination is each color chip in poker? - Quora

what color poker chips represent

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