My name is Aquis, Mr. Aquis De LaMonte to be precise.
…
What? You wanted to know more about me? This isn’t some online dating site like Tinder! But fine, I’ll tell you if you really want to know!
I am a 6 foot 2 inch tall male, built like a tank and fuzzy like a bear! Add in slightly tanned skin, dashing blue eyes complimented by a sleek pair of transition lensed glasses that can catch the light at just the right angle for a nice shine, and a pleasantly blackened brown plot of hair growing atop my head to compliment my decently filled out beard. I would call it majestic, but most others compare my beard to a muskrat having died on my face. AND THEY ARE ALL UNEDUCATED PEASANTS I TELL YOU, PEASANTS!
Phew! That was a mouthful! Feels good to get that off my chest though.
My life itself has been pretty drab lately. Growing up, I was the school mad genius! Everyone else fell into their clicks, you know… the bullies, the jocks, the nerds, the outcasts, the normies… I never really fit into any one of them. The bullies would never pick on me because of my size, and my tendency to wear trench-coats and occasionally hatch diabolical schemes had the nerds bribing me with candy bars to “spare them when I inevitably shoot up the school.” I enjoyed the reputation for said bribes, buuuuuut I am also very much against senseless violence. The only place that belonged was in games, and even then I could never get in the spirit of those who would play a genocide run.
If I liked an NPC, I just WOULD. NOT. KILL. THEM. I don’t care about the rewards, and I don’t care about the story. If there was a character I liked, but the story wanted to ‘force’ me to kill them, I would break the game if I had to in order to not kill them and get around it.
That’s not to say I was merciful and good, I would go to just as extreme lengths to torment NPCs that got on my bad side and upset me.
Come, follow me into this bears den! It is perfectly safe! What? I didn’t slip a landmine into your pocket, what are you on about there? I didn’t get you murdered by bandits and wasps just to buy your freshly vacated house! See?? My Rating still says I am a good and honorable fellow! I even have a halo!
…
OK, maybe my reputation was a little deserved.
It was certainly a weird life, and I wandered from click to click as my fancy took me, riling up chaos wherever I went.
Then, college happened. Which really was just a glorified deregulated high school, and it only amplified my status as the mad genius!
Then, after college… well, everything just got dull. I hopped between a few different jobs, always looking for a new set of challenges and thrills for my daily grind to feed my gaming addiction. I worked in law enforcement, part time military, health and safety, sales, and construction just to name a few jobs.
My latest employment foray landed me a job as a building engineer, somehow I seem to always be able to talk my way into these new jobs. For fun, I like to ride public transit and take the trains every day. It is just so much less stressful and I can enjoy one of my other side hobbies: people watching.
Yes, if you ever see some random fellow walking down the street that you just feel is judging you, that is I, the great me! Mr. Aquis De LaMonte, people watcher extraordinaire!
Along my route home, there always were a number of homeless populating the streets. Some living shamelessly and embraced their position amongst the concrete towers of the city, others fighting desperately for survival peddling cheap knock-off goods, while others lay crushed in back alleys and cardboard homes, occasionally babbling incoherently as the madness of society takes charge of their minds.
Normally, I pay no heed to those abandoned by society. Normally. However, I like to watch everything out of a healthy sense of paranoia and distrust. Amongst those destitute, there was one man who caught my eye. An ancient fellow with a long, wispy Chinese dragon-man beard. His frail body looked like a man on the verge of death, which a simple breeze would shatter him at any moment. In front of him, he had a simple mat with numerous spaces for cards, and a deck at either side. Every evening I would see him in the same place on my way home from work, a ghastly smile on his face.
Yet not once, NOT ONCE, did I ever see a single person play a game with him. Nor did I ever see anyone drop money into the slender tin can adjacent to his board. It was something that piqued my curiosity. The same curiosity and madness that got me into trouble my entire life, and that miraculously got me out of problems of my own creation.
On an impulse, after a particularly stressful day of work, I decided to approach this man. Without a word, I walked up to him with a purpose, past all the other homeless and cretins, who moved out of my way as if my presence itself repulsed them. They looked on in surprise, as someone from regular society dared to walk into their no man’s land!
I sat in front of the venerable elder as if I had always belonged there, card mat between us, and not minding the filthy concrete. I slipped a $20 bill into his tin can, placed my hands on each of my knees and stared intently into his lifeless eyes.
It felt almost imperceptible at first, but I could have sworn he somehow expanded his terrifying grin farther across his face! Then, without a word, he moved his hands over each deck, almost inviting me to choose one of them. On closer inspection, one deck was filled with jet black cards with silver embossed sigils and writing, and the other was lightly colored cards with shiny black embossed sigils and writing. It reminded me of the two sides of chess.
A demonic smile of my own spread across my face, as I sat face to face with this old devil, who accepted my challenge to a game in which I knew not a single rule!
Subconsciously, I knew which deck I would choose. He passed me the jet black deck, and it felt as if time itself slowed down as reached down to grab it and pass it to me. I set the deck on my corner of the board, and proceeded to draw 5 cards.
Simultaneously, the old man did the same thing and matched my draws.
Most cards I drew had a notable hero from some time in history while a couple had clearly fantasy creatures and one card was legitimately a forest, and the other a dungeon. There were 8 small arrows, one pointing outward from each side and corner of the card. Next to the arrows was a small number from between 1 and 9, or the letters A or S. The cards even had an imprinted description below each image, telling a short spectacular history of the hero on the card and describing their personality.
It was all pretty straightforward… except… let’s go back a second. A forest?!? What worse, its description read “The Rosewood, A Simple Forest of Temaria teeming with weak magical beasts.” The total opposite of the dungeon card, called “The Dungeon of the End, Pure Abyssal Hell.”
Imagine, if you will, the furrow that spread deeply across my brow! Moving on…
The card mat itself was simple enough, with a generalized field on both sides, and a small castle drawn near the players. Some tiles were marked with red and had mountains on them, while others had lakes drawn and were marked with blue. The grasslands were the basic and most common tile, with white borders for the card spaces. To the right side of the board, in a nice italicized bold font, was the name “Temaria” written across it.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Perhaps the terrain can be adjusted further by where we place our own cards, like the forest?
This game triggered something in me, an excitement and charm I felt was missing in my life.
With a bold laugh, I exclaimed to my new opponent: “Prepare yourself, venerable one, for my opening move. This shall spell the beginning of your doom! The Iron Dragon of Belfegor has decided this day to descend from the mountains, and marches towards your fortress! Watch as your empire crumbles!”
I proceeded to draw a new card after placing the Iron Dragon, and eyed my opponent carefully
Without missing a beat, the old man’s trembling hand drew a card and placed it adjacent my Dragon, and then another in front of his castle.
“What?! The Dragon Slayer of Belisarus? And you seek to protect your castle behind the endless maze? Such trifling would fluster a lesser opponent, but not I!”
With another laugh, I made my move. And so, my evening passed, turn after turn, making up rules as I went along. Each time, I was matched at my own game by the silent old man.
Day after day, I developed a new routine. After work, I would sit and play with the old man, giving him whatever change and loose bills I had that day, and catching the last train before midnight to go home and start over again. Each time, he would have cleared the mat, and it seemed the mat would grow slightly larger and slightly more complex. Each area we placed a terrain card during the prior game became a permanent addition to the game mat, and somehow I almost never drew a repeat card from games past. Even the history on the cards would be updated and would reference some of our turns, which I attributed off-hand to something the old man did in his free time when I was at work.
As seasons passed, I couldn’t help but put some of my skills to use for the feeble old man. I brought him a comfy new cushion, and built a small wooden hut around him that was little more than shelter from the elements. Still, it was better than nothing. I even made a ramshackle table for his game mat, and hung a battery power lamp from the wooden ceiling for light. While his expression never changed, I somehow had the feeling he appreciated my gestures. Even if it was my imagination.
AND THAT, my friends, is what led me to today. Nearly a year later, having played countless rounds and on occasion missing entire night’s worth of sleep to feed my addiction.
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*Uaaaaahhhh*
With a gaping yawn, I leaned back in my chair. On my computer screen I was reading the excited text of an email, having been hired for a new job as an administrator for some relatively unknown company. I would start tomorrow, on the first day of the new year.
When you’re bored, you gotta move on.
I clicked the blue pen in my hand several times.
A shame really, looks like I will be going to an entirely new city.
Somehow, my face wasn’t full of the excitement I was hoping for on getting a new job. I closed my eyes, then stared listlessly at the ceiling. I couldn’t quite figure it out.
With an audible sigh, I said goodbye to all the nameless peons of my current job. I was soon to be gone, and they wouldn’t matter anymore.
As I walked out of the concrete tower, one of countless identical structures, I couldn’t help but feel off. The sky was filled with clouds and a small drizzle was coming down.
I wonder how the old man is doing…
Ah, that was it. That was what was bothering me, with this new job… I would never see the old man to play cards with him again!
I suppose I could surprise him with one last gift and game, before I go!
Even in this rain, the idea caused a smile to break out on my face. After all this time, I don’t believe I ever truly learned the game we were playing, but it was fun, so I guess that doesn’t really matter, does it?
With a clink, I sat two small sake saucers next to the board, placed several crisp $100 bills into his tin, and a bottle of top shelf Sake in an ice bucket on the floor next to the table.
“Hey there gramps, today, it’s our final game. Hope you don’t mind, but today I am going to win for sure!”
The rain picked up slightly, but the ramshackle hut seemed to do its job, and none of the water got inside to interfere with or damage our game.
I popped open the bottle of sake and filled each saucer, passing one to the elder.
For the first time, I saw an actual change in his smile, as he slowly reached down and proceeded to slowly down his saucer. Then, for once, his eyes didn’t appear so lifeless. Instead, they showed a faint semblance of resolve.
The game mat by this time had evolved far beyond what it was when we had first started, full of forests, mountains, deserts and lakes. Cities, towns and villages dotted the map, as well as ruins and dungeons.
As I proceeded to follow the familiar ritual of drawing cards, it was like time slowed down again. Here we were, two completely out-of-place characters playing cards in an alleyway. Yet, I couldn’t help but smile, a deep satisfied grin, as if there was no place else I would rather be.
This game, I chose to play somewhat differently than usual. Each character I drew, their stories felt real to me, whether fantasy or historical.
> Baron Einsley the Forgotten.
>
> King Arthur.
>
> Oda Nobunaga.
>
> Sun Wukong, the Monkey King.
>
> Machiavelli.
>
> Hercules.
>
> The Elf Knight Lorias.
>
> The Dragon of the West.
Even numerous common characters and armies, which I sometimes stacked on tiles as I saw fit.
As usual, each move I made, the old man countered.
As I placed them on the game mat, I felt that each one deserved to go where they actually belonged. I wasn’t interested in the numbers or letters around the card for this game, but for their story.
Strangely enough, this was also the first time the old man didn’t play his cards as a direct counter to mine. Over the past year, I had never won against him. Not once. Sometimes it made me scream and pull my hair, others it made me cry, but I never quit. It felt as if my deck could never win against his no matter what I tried or what rules I made up. He would always play the perfect card at the perfect angle with a higher number or better letter than mine. Even when I believed he set the game up just for me to fail, if I persevered and was creative enough, at the very least I wouldn’t outright lose!
Yet today, when I saw how his side of the board filled out, it seemed as if he too chose his cards by where he felt they should be.
Heh, a fitting end indeed.
Before I knew it, it was nearing midnight yet again. The bottle of sake was near empty, and in honor of the end of the game, I played out the last cards in my hand. As usual, he met my every move in kind and emptied his hand as well.
“The last cup of sake is yours, my friend. Thanks for everything this past year, and take care of yourself.”
I couldn’t help but choke back some tears, and sniffled a little as I spoke. I guess… before I knew it, I had grown pretty fond of this old man.
As I got up, he motioned his hand slowly, gesturing towards my deck.
One card left…
My brow furrowed, as I looked at the remaining card half drunk and my eyes a little blurry.
I don’t think I have ever finished the deck before? It couldn’t hurt to see the last card, I guess… seems he is out of cards too!
“Heh, alright. I suppose I can take a look at what you left for me!”
As I flipped the last card over, the tears I was trying to hold back came rushing forth.
The Name:
> Aquis De LaMonte
>
> Unrepentant Charlatan, Mastermind, and Challenger of the Gods
All arrows on the card were ridiculously low compared to the other heroes and characters, with two exceptions. One had a U, which I had never seen before, and the other was an S. Lettered arrows, hah!
“In the spirit of today’s game, perhaps this Hero should earn his keep and title. Aquis De LaMonte, the first challenger to emerge from the Dungeon of the End! Let his tale begin here, in the depths of true abyssal hell, where coming out alive is perhaps the only true victory one can achieve!”
Heh, another first! This dungeon was one of the first tile cards I had played ages ago, and since then no cards had even been stacked on it. Each arrow on it is even ranked S.
As I placed my card, for a moment only, I felt as if everything stopped. The rain, the sound of passing cars, the ravings of the homeless in the background, even my heartbeat.
Just as suddenly, sound returned to the world.
“Well, take care of yourself, old man.”
His face had moved for the first time since I met him, as he stared, almost shocked, at my card placement.
As I walked off into the night, for the first time, I could swear I heard a dry cackling laugh coming from the alley. It would have sent shivers down the spines of ordinary men, but for me, I am sure I made a choice that surprised even him!
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The walk to the train was much quieter than usual, even approaching midnight on New Year’s Eve, I would have expected a few revelers to make a scene. Maybe everyone was still in the pub?
As I boarded the train car, it was noticeably empty. Heh, fine by me. The redness on my cheeks from the Sake was clear, and the usually uncomfortable chairs felt surprisingly cozy.
*ding ding* *ding ding*
“LAST CALL, THE FINAL TRAIN IS NOW DEPARTING THE STATION! THE 501 IS NOW DEPARTING!”
The conductor’s voice rang out clear to an otherwise empty station.
Odd, he doesn’t look like the usual conductor… must be my imagination… coulda sworn he had a horn though…
The train began to clank along down the tracks as I headed home. Part of the route ran alongside some hills and even had a small tunnel. I always enjoyed the sight out the window on this part of the ride, the lights of the city behind us and the suburbs below the hill.
As we entered the tunnel, I began to nod off to sleep. The resounding silence filled only with the rhythmic sound of the wheels was a lullaby to my ears. The train itself disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel, and all the lights on it flickered before going out.
On the other side of the tunnel, a light shone out and a train exited, with 501 boldly shining on its electronic signs that hung over each door. All the cars on the train were packed with Party Goers laughing and yelling, and numerous flustered conductors trying to handle the raucous masses.
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I woke up to a cold drip on my face, surrounded by nothing but darkness.
“Eh? Where… where am I? EHHHHH????!”