by Marius Hartland

''It was the Yuletide, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind. It was the Yuletide, and I had come at last to the ancient sea town where my people had dwelt and kept festival in the elder time when festival was forbidden; where also they had commanded their sons to keep festival once every century, that the memory of primal secrets might not be forgotten''
    •    H.P. Lovecraft, the Festival

Since we have done some time travel and ghoulishly digging up carrion fodder in the last eight story cards, I thought I'd dig up a quote I've used almost exactly two years ago when I presented my very first spoiler article: Tulzscha – The Green Flame. This time, things will not only get spoiled, but they'll be Rotting Away.

Call of Cthulhu: The Card Game is a game of skill. There is an element of luck involved – but that's just to make it harder to make the right choices all the time. Lets look at a classic game of skill: Chess. Chess is totally deterministic. The lack of randomization have lead some people to argue, though, that Chess is more about knowing enough about games that have already been played than making on-the-spot strategical decisions. Those people have invented (among other variants) Chess960, where the start-up position is randomized and there are 960 opening positions (half of them are mirrored versions of the other 480 though.) The game still is a deterministic game of perfect information, but memorizing 480 times as much setups than in standard Chess is a bit excessive for a human mind. (And hopefully, for the Reaper, should you come in that situation... do try!) Having a randomized, closed deck (and thus, not even having perfect information on how the game will develop) only enhances the need for a wide array of tactical skills.

...which outreaches fancy and mathematics alike.

In the Call of Cthulhu Card Game, one of the skills is understanding the concept of “card advantage.” It's a nebulous concept, due to the nature of the game, and no two will answer alike when you ask what card advantage is exactly – Because no card is of equal value, and the value depends on the situation at hand. This is where the science behind the game enters the realm of quantum physics and trans-dimensional mathematics. Yog-Sothoth feels right at home here.

First of all, the game has different zones; the decks, hands, domains, resources and the cards in play. To me, card advantage deals with the number of cards you have in the direct access zones that directly deal with the game at hand, versus those of your opponent. These active zones are mainly your hand and in play. Resources are a difficult matter; I tend not to count them as a cost of card advantage, but they are needed to further the game as well. The concept gets more fuzzy around the edges when you consider that sometimes cards are "active" in your discard pile, but for the sake of this discussion, let’s just generalize.

Card advantage is important when you enter the realm of Yog-Sothoth, because there you'll see that on average, all the cards are of equal value. They are averaged, after all, in the eyes of a being that sees all possible game situations at once. And the more cards you have versus the cards your opponent has in active game zones, the better the chance one of your cards goes unchecked by your opponent and wins you the game. Shifting back to our own reality sometimes makes it obvious: If you hold five very good cards, and your opponent's hand is empty, you’re probably going to have a field day.

Waste not, want not

A similar thing is true for a concept, directly lifted from Chess, called 'tempo.' In the Call of Cthulhu Card Game tempo means how well you have used your resources and abilities to help you get ahead of your opponent in time and development. Once your refresh phase hits, any undrained domains and unexhausted support or character cards you have left unused are basically a freebie for your opponent. You'll have to keep the pressure on your opponent to stay ahead in the game. But even that is not always the answer. The game wants you to balance tempo and card advantage. When you exert yourself, you run the risk of overexerting yourself. And then, this happens:

Card Nine from Outer Space

Rushing out of the gates can be a problem, when you see this "red flag for rush" falling to the Professor of Archeology or Ghoul Khanum across the table. Your tempo was excellent, but your card advantage suffers immensely, and at the worst of moments. It's nice to draw two cards a turn to try to recover, but, well, your time is short. Thanks to the holistic approach of this Story Deck you can try to get your team back insane, or as a big domain using the other story cards. Or remember to hold back a little when Rotting Away is the news of the day, judging the amount of pressure you put on your opponent well. They could just keep the story around though when you don't pressure enough giving them more tempo. It's a game of skill after all; but also a game of cosmic horror and impending doom.

Skill goes for the characters themselves, too. Having a high enough printed skill makes them immune to Rotting Away. Will it keep them safe?

Next week we'll see the tenth (and final!) Core Set Story Card. The meek shall inherit the earth when we take a trip Through The Gates.

The cold has always been Russia's strength. From the frigid lands of the Motherland come the forces of the Matriarchy. Clad in armor, backed by legions of mechanical constructs, and powered by the electrical genius of Nikola Tesla, they are a force to be reckoned with. They are led by the Tsarina, who can count on the assistance of the Black Angel Grigori Iefimovitch, and even the power of the Slavic Gods.

Click the above image to enlarge

Sound the horns, bang the drums, the time for battle is upon you!

Choose your character and battle against your friends for valor, glory, and overall supremacy in Azeroth. Each coming month's scenario will feature new game-changing events that stay in play the entire length of the league season. Players record the stats at the end of the game and send them to the league administrator. Results will be posted on our World of Warcraft: The Adventure Game Community Page, so you can see how you stack up against other players around the world.

After playing a scenario, record;

• Each player's name
• The character they played
• The total valor points each player accumulated
• The total number of Overlords each player deafeated
• Each player's level at the end of the game

Every win a player gets moves them closer to dominance. Rankings will be posted on our website. Once a player has 5 wins, they attain the rank of Warrior. 10 wins earns the title Master, 25 wins is the Hero title, and a whopping 50 wins is Legend. This provides players with recognition for their outstanding feats, and lets us set up more invitational tournaments.

The first league scenario will be posted on the World of Warcraft: The Adventure Game section of the FFG website on Wednesday, January 7! Check back then to see how you can get involved, and lay waste to all who oppose you!

Pull down your visor, shift into first gear, let your engines roar: in a moment the lights will be green...

Moto Grand Prix is a fun and exciting game for all ages with a fast, realistic, dice-based system for playing multi-lap races quickly. Moto Grand Prix's beautiful, accurate models can lean and wheelie, and the modular boards allow a wide range of realistic circuits.

Moto Grand Prix will be available in stores next week and to give you a preview to get your motor revving before the release, we have uploaded the rules on our Moto Grand Prix Support Page.

Click on the track below to download the rules (PDF, 3mb):

Wings of War Miniatures take your Wings of War game into three dimensions! Each pre-painted plastic model depicts a unique, historical warplane from the Wings of War game, complete with maneuver deck and variable-altitude stand. Outfly and outfight your friends like never before!

Each series introduces new planes to further your game. The newest set, series 3, introduces the Nieuport 17 (Lufbery, Nungesser), Albatross D.III, UFAG C.1 (Luftfahrtruppen 1), RAF R.E. 8 (Aviation Militaire), and many more. Each of these finely detailed planes lets you jump in the pilot seat and fly directly into the action!

Click the above image for a full product listing.

The mighty Troll is at it again!  Just as your troops have received their much needed rest from their last encounter, a mad assault breaks out at your camp.  In this Fantasy Flight web-exclusive scenario, your soldiers are making their bold stand against the mighty Troll once more!  Or, if you're lucky, fighting right there with him.  Troll scenario #55, designed by Richard Borg himself, can be found in the BattleLore support section. 

To shed some light on the beginnings of this colossal creature, we asked BattleLore designer Richard Borg some design questions about the Troll:

Q. When designing the Troll, what did you revolve your design around?
A.  As in all BattleLore design elements, we wanted to capture the perceived notion of how a Troll can and should act. The difficult part was then to make it function and play well in the world of BattleLore.

Q. What were some of the statistics you threw out when play-testing the Troll?
A.  Notions about a Troll…
• A Troll is larger than a Human fighter. - The original Troll figure example we received was Huge! Which did not work but it really looked cool.
• A Troll is powerful but slow and not very skilled or smart in battle. - We did not want to have a Troll's battle strength to be tied to his banner color.
• A Troll can regenerate. - He does this very well as written!
• A Troll is tough and would be difficult to defeat. - We did not want to have a Troll to be defeated the same way as other creatures, by taking a Creature Critical Hit check.

Q.  As a player, what are the major points to remember when going toe-to-toe with the Troll?
A.  I really feel one of the best parts of BattleLore is discovering how to overcome a problem, and a Troll can be a big problem. There are a number of interesting ways I have seen work to defeat the Troll, but at this point I would rather read on Fantasy Flight's BattleLore forum about how others went about taking on the Troll.

Q. The Troll web-scenarios are very intriguing. How did you design them to be balanced fighting the mighty Troll?
A. Experience, playing and watching, then making adjustments, more playtesting, these are the keys, in my opinion, to a good scenario design. I am very lucky that I have a great group of players here in the Orlando, Florida. We have very productive playtest sessions and their insight and suggestions really have helped make and keep BattleLore fun and interesting!

Enjoy trying to take this mighty creature down.  May the dice rolls be in your favor!

The madness has been revealed. All 10 scenarios are out in the open, and the results are beginning to trickle in. Many of you have fought long and hard, many of you are fresh to the fight, all of you are doing the work that needs to be done. Without you, Arkham would surely fall. From pairs of investigators battling Ancient Ones in Scotland, to full 8 person teams fighting across Minnesota, every team stands in the way of oblivion.

Each of you has a story, and it needs to be heard. Send your results to me, jgodwin@fantasyflightgames.com, by January 31st. (yes I know, summer is long over)

Results have been updated, check out the scores.

Do not fear, the madness in Arkham only subsides, it never goes away entirely. The next session of the Arkham League begins in February. This next session offers the chance for each Investigator to become more, and offers each Investigator a new chance at madness.

If you find yourself wanting more Lovecraft after finishing the league, check out the Call of Cthulhu card game. The game has gone from collectible to fixed, so everything you need is in the box.

Until we meet again, good luck and happy investigating.
JR

By JT Smythe

Chapter 1. Don't be the only saboteur, encourage incompetence in everyone.
I have found that sabotaging skill checks is often not the best way to sabotage the humans efforts. Although it is the most obvious and easiest way, it also tends to be the most suspicious. Failed skill checks draw a lot of suspicion, bad decisions that everyone agreed to, doesn't. You can generally do a hell of a lot more damage than you think just by talking and encouraging others to take bad actions and decisions.

Chapter 2. "No No, Madam President, stay on Colonial One and let us fight the Cylons" How to get the humans to do stupid things that don't really help them.
What sort of things can you convince the humans to do that doesn't really help them. There are two basic ways to get the humans to screw themselves, both beautiful in that they are exact opposites of each other and so one will usually seem appropriate to the humans.

First, get everyone doing something different. "Starbuck you take out the cylon Raiders in your Viper, Madam President you keep drawing Quorum cards. I know we're under attack but Starbuck and Commander Adama can handle that, you are the only one who can draw Quorum cards. That's a very special ability, you should use it. Commander Adama move those civilian ships out of the way of those cylons, don't worry about Starbuck being outnumbered she can take care of herself. Colonel Tigh, take out those Cylon boarding parties."

Most of the time there are one or two real problems and a couple of not so urgent ones. Every person handling a non urgent problem is someone not helping with a critical one. It doesn't do the humans any good to have not lost a single civilian ship or viper if galactica is destroyed by boarders. This method is most effective with characters who are the only one who can do something, like the president or the only engineer, or only pilot etc.

Second, Get everyone doing the same thing. "Starbuck take out those Raiders in your Viper, Madam president get over here and order those red shirt vipers to take out that raider in front of the ship, No don't wait for Commander Adama to do it, there might be more raiders spawned by the time its his turn. Forget the quorum, we've got a basestar and 2 cylon raiders attacking us, hit them before there are more. Commander Adama, Colonel Tigh, go to command and order some vipers to cover Starbuck's butt. Sure she can probably handle it herself but I don't want to take the chance. Forget the boarding party for now, we can deal with that when the raiders are gone."

Pick a problem and stick with it, no matter what else is happening insist that this problem must be dealt with before doing anything else. Get everyone ultra focused on the biggest problem and before you know it a couple of the small ones that were not handled will be big problems in their own right.

Chapter 3. You're not fighting the humans. You're "helping" them destroy themselves
You don't need to fight the humans. Simply "help" along their more self destructive tendencies. Most groups of humans will be well on the way to self destruction after half a dozen turns without any intervention on your part. In picking ways to help them destroy themselves simply find the course of action they already want to take and encourage it. If Boomer wants to take an early jump to evade a Cylon fleet support her destructive desire. When choosing a method of destruction from the previous chapter (everyone do the same thing, everyone do something different) don't fight their natural tendencies, go with the flow. If it looks like they want to do focus on one problem and ignore others encourage that, if not, encourage the opposite. Either way will work just fine. Ultimately you don't need to do much, you don't need to destroy them before the first jump. All you need to do is get them doing the wrong thing for a turn or two longer than they wanted to do anyway. Your role is to keep edging them towards extreme behavior, what extreme that is doesn't matter.

Chapter 4. Turn on each other human scum, it's what you do best
The surest way to destroy the humans is to get them to turn on each other. Or more precisely (as they will be at each others' throats by the third turn anyway) to tweak their divisions and keep them divided a little longer than they would on their own. I know sending innocent men to the brig is what first springs to mind, but there are many other divisions to foster. Some players may think it more important to repair damage to the ship and vipers. Others may want to boost the skill cards in their hands. In combat, some may want to destroy enemy raiders, others heavy raiders. Some may want to jump early, others to wait. Try to encourage these divisions, especially when you can get one or two crew taking actions to help one strategy and others taking actions to accomplish the opposite strategy. Do the best you can to keep half the crew trying to do one thing and the other half trying to do something else. Stop them from acting on a concerted coordinated strategy.

If you've got some damaged vipers and damage to galactica and are under attack, and Commander Adama and Apollo want to jump early but Starbuck and Colonel Tigh want to hold out a little longer. Encourage Starbuck and Tigh to fend off the Cylons until we can jump safely, then grudgingly agree that Commander Adama was right and we should jump early. That way you get the benefit of Jumping early (and the lovely risk of humans dying) plus Starbuck and Tigh have essentially wasted their turns fending off an attack that they eventually retreat from. If the humans had acted with a more coordinated strategy Tigh could have initiated the jump letting Starbuck and Adama start fixing the ship and drawing extra cards.

Now that you know what to do, here's how to do it.

Chapter 5. The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. or "Don't look at me it was all his idea"
Whenever things go wrong the humans always look for someone to blame. And that blame inevitably falls on the guy who thought of the bad idea. So, never be the one to suggest a course of action, just jump on the bandwagon of someone else's stupid ideas. You won't have to wait long. Before you know it someone will want to jump early, or wait to jump even though you're getting creamed, or accuse some poor sap of being a Cylon. Never be the one to think of something bad just agree with someone else who does, if he looks like wavering encourage him. "NO, they're not right, you're the one who's right. I'll back you all the way, send that Frakker to the Brig". Speaking of the Brig...

Chapter 6. There's a party in the Brig and everyone's invited
As tempting as it is to put innocent people in the brig sometimes it can be more disruptive to break them out, especially when you know that several other players are going to try to put him right back in on their next turn. That way everyone wastes all their cards and actions twice not just once, and the Frakker still ends up in the brig anyway. Also it will gain the trust of the guy in the brig and anyone else who thought he was innocent. In a bizarre way it seems to earn the trust of the gaolers as well, no one ever thinks the Cylons will try to bust out an innocent man. Stupid humans.

Chapter 7. Failed skill tests are suspicious, passed ones aren't. Or "How to fail Skill tests without looking like the Frakking Skin Job you are."
Something that will be hard for you to do because it is so tempting is to refrain from adding bad cards to skill tests. Failed skill tests are suspicious, passed ones never seem to garner the same scrutiny. The best way to fail skill tests is to pass the previous one spectacularly. Dump as many good cards as you can get away with on one test and then cry poor for the next 5,or however long it is before you can refill your hand, "Gee guys I'd love to help but I blew all my cards on last turn's skill test".

Chapter 8. Be consistent
Humans love consistency and find it comforting. They will rarely suspect someone who is consistent. Once you jump on someone's bandwagon stay on it, If Gaius Baltar is conviced Roslyn is a Cylon and you jump on the bandwagon, then keep suspecting her. Never give up, never change your belief, even if Baltar does. Take every opportunity to say "I still think she's guilty, we should throw her in the brig". This works for anything, not just the brig "I still think we should repair the vipers before dealing with the boarding party. I still think Chief Tyrol is innocent". As long as you weren't the first person to suggest it, you can always defend yourself by pointing out "I'm not the Cylon for wanting her in the Brig, Baltar wanted it too, it was his idea, I just agree with him". Obviously there is a limit but you should stick to it a lot longer than others would. As doubts grow in the game people will periodically come back to the idea, at worst it will sow doubt and division, at best you will convince people to take the wrong course of action.

Chapter 9. Don't be aggressive
The biggest thing that gets God fearin' Cylons caught is being too aggressive in demanding a course of action. Don't ever do something unless close to half of the humans want you to do it. Fundamentally you should be concentrating on getting them to do the wrong things rather than doing them yourself. You should constantly support other people's bad ideas and try to convince more of the humans that it is right, but you should never do it without at least some humans saying its not such a bad idea. That way when it all goes wrong you can say, "It was a bad call Ripley I mean Starbuck, but I'm not a Cylon, Baltar and Tigh agreed with me, we can't all be Cylons" Its even more effective when you can say that it was all Gaius's idea that shifty git. Constantly support bad ideas but don't do it without support.

Chapter 10. So you've found yourself in the brig. Or "When you tell a lie, you tell the same lie to everyone, you keep it simple and no matter what happens you stick to it"
Despite your best efforts you may be found out and put in the brig. Or more likely the paranoid psychos put you in there completely at random. Oh they may think they have logical reasons but the number of innocent people that have been sent there far outweighs the guilty and even a broken clock is right twice a day. Once in the brig you will naturally consider yourself well caught and decide to hoof it to the nearest resurrection ship to continue causing strife. But hold on, are you really that screwed in the brig or can this be your master stroke. If you haven't been blatantly obvious there should still be some doubt as to your guilt (well, at least from everyone who didn't get to inspect your loyalty cards). So while it is often a good idea to make with the slashy slashy and wake up safe and sound on the nearest friendly neighborhood resurrection ship, you can continue to do a lot of the same stuff as you did before your unfortunate incarceration. If someone got to look at your loyalty card accuse them of being the cylon and act indignant, especially to the traitor. If not, people just suspect you because they think that piloting card that failed the skill check came from you, it is probably best to:

Stay calm.

Continue to try to reassure them you are innocent.

Stay consistent.

If you always thought Colonel Tigh was right and the boarding party should be dealt with, continue to say so, humans find consistency reassuring, remember.

Above all be helpful. play executive orders whenever you can, do not add cards to skill checks if they ask you not to (hey, at least now you have a great excuse for not helping them, because they asked you not to).

Seek Support.

Go to the people whose daft ideas you have supported in the past (or anyone who seems unsure of your guilt). Remind them of how you were the only one who believed in them (don't say they owe you), and what you did couldn't be suspicious because then everything they did would be suspicious too because you agreed with it. "Why would a Cylon agree with all your good ideas". Pick someone most of the others trust and who is the closest to trusting you and give them your absolute obedience. If they say use an executive order on the president, do it. If they say play a Strategic planning card do it.

If you follow these steps you are at worst sowing the seeds of doubt in people who were once convinced you were guilty, perhaps even still convincing some of them to continue following some hair-brained scheme. At best your good conduct may convince enough of them to spring you.

In conclusion

These are just the early strategies I have noticed in our group, and we haven't been playing for long. After more plays, and people get more sophisticated in play style these strategies might stop working. People might get less paranoid, realizing that paranoia is crippling and taking the risk of an unopposed skin job in their midst rather than the destructive and possibly futile attempt to unmask him or her. It will be interesting to see how play styles change with more play.

JT Smythe

Greetings Dark Heresy Fans!

Disciples of the Dark Gods is our newest sourcebook for Dark Heresy, and it is quite a beast—240 pages chock-full of new rules (such as sorcery and daemon weapons), new enemies (such as Ogryn Beast Slavers and many more daemons), and tons of great background on the most dangerous heretical cults, secrets, and conspiracies that threaten the Calixis Sector. 

I knew this book would be special as soon as I began to read the manuscript. John French and Alan Bligh are the authors of Disciples of the Dark Gods, and they have crafted some chilling additions to the Dark Heresy setting that will add incredible things to any Warhammer 40,000 Roleplay campaign. Some of the things that struck me the most were the Logicians cult, a group that is committed to the tech-heresy of progress, and the Murder Room, a mysterious name that links some of the most savage and brutal attacks ever recorded by the Calixian authorities.

My favorite section, however, details the most wanted heretics of the region, ranging from the pyromancer known only as “The Burning Princess” to the traitorous ex-Missionary Coriolanus Vestra. In fact, these heretics are detailed in a set of Inquisitional Reports that are perfect for player handouts. So perfect that I’ve turned those reports into a web enhancement for Disciples of the Dark Gods! 

This download is available at the Dark Heresy Support page:

Disciples of the Dark Gods Web Enhancement (PDF, 532kb).

Keep a sharp eye out, because scattered through the book are many easter eggs and clues to upcoming books in the Dark Heresy game line!

<<The Next Step>>

Coming up after the holidays, I will be talking about the next Dark Heresy book coming soon to a store near you...Creatures Anathema! I have some great things to say about how this book came to be and some sneak peeks at the aliens, beasts, and daemons of the Calixis Sector that lurk inside its pages. Stay tuned, and until next time, may the light of the Golden Throne guide you!

By Jeff Tidball

Padma was humiliated, trapped, rolled inside a tapestry like a human spring roll.

White Crane, whom Padma had come to assassinate, stood stern and tall, with the presence of age but none of its frailty. She had cut the heavy cloth down on Padma’s head seconds before, deftly entangling her in a way that completely nullified her unique martial capabilities.

“We find ourselves repeating history,” White Crane said. She referred to the broad outlines of their situation. This was not the first time that Padma, having failed to kill the enigmatic elder of the Order of the Celestial Dawn, found herself bound and impotent for her trouble.

Although young, Padma was not accustomed to being rendered ineffectual. She had killed dozens, if not hundreds, at the behest of those who paid her family to carry out its black deeds. Prior to White Crane, none had ever survived her exquisite attentions, much less survived them several times running.

White Crane continued. “Happily, our past experience suggests a way we might resolve a situation such as this one, and to our mutual benefit.” She referred, now, to the way Padma would accept a different mission of death, this one on behalf of White Crane and the Order, as a condition of Padma’s own continued life.

White Crane certainly knew that letting Padma live in exchange for such service would result in another attempt on her life days, weeks, or months from today. Padma burned to think that White Crane felt Padma posed little enough danger that she was willing to risk those future attempts. An alternate explanation – and more comforting, so Padma chose to believe it, instead – was that Padma’s missions on the Order’s behalf were of such great value that White Crane was willing to risk future attempts on her life in order to seize the opportunity they represented.

Padma didn’t object to killing on the Order’s behalf, but was humiliated to have failed to execute White Crane in…how many attempts had it been, now? She resolved now that she would succeed in killing White Crane next time. In admitting to herself that there would be a next time, she realized she had again convinced herself to accept the mission White Crane had already begun to outline.

“…of the Fan Prefecture, in the plateaus. Its governor, Nyima Tsenpo, will be the object of your intention.”

Padma’s attention had lapsed. She silently rebuked herself.

“Its governor? His people claim him as their king. He is known to be right and virtuous. Does your Order not–”

“What is less known,” White Crane cut her off, “is that he has made a secret alliance with the Covenant of Twilight to betray his people to his neighbors for a ransom of silver. Although it has not yet come to pass, he will betray his virtue.”

This neither surprised Padma nor confirmed any cherished worldview. Human nature was what it was; people acted as they would. Some were virtuous, others less so, and the barrier in between was as thin as paper, where there was a barrier at all. She made no response.

“Do you accept this undertaking, in return for your freedom, and do you vow that you will not make another attempt on my life until Tsenpo lies dead?”

“Yes,” replied Padma. “Not until he lies dead.”

*

Nyima Tsenpo’s hall of audience bustled, as always. His dinner had just begun, but the throng of petitioners had not begun to abate. They had been wronged by their neighbors, bore grievances against his administrators, sought forgiveness and donations and blessings. If he did not eat while seeing to his peoples’ affairs, he would not eat, ever. It made him weary.

Tsenpo raised his first bite of heavy brown rice, but froze with his hand slim inches from his parted lips.

One of his servants – one of a dozen dressed in similar simple robes, the one who had submissively handed him the bowl just seconds before and had been rapidly making her way away from him – also froze at this interruption. She breathed in sync with her master, eyes focused on the bite of food he had been about to ingest.

“It is out of the question,” said Tsenpo with neither rebuke nor kindness, lowering the rice back to its bowl. He wiped his hand on his garment as he addressed the minor functionary who sought his intervention. The man bowed and retreated.

The line of those who had come to beseech Nyima Tsenpo shuffled forward, coiling around the wall of the chamber, each of them now one moment closer to his own audience.

Tsenpo sighed wearily and set his still-full bowl aside, waving his hand to have it taken away.

The servant who had watched him so closely stepped back toward him. Her skin was a darker color than the others attending him, darker than nearly all those who claimed Nyima Tsenpo as their liege.

It was Padma.

As one hand emerged from her robe’s sleeve to take the bowl, the other emerged from its own sleeve wrapped with a serpentine shadow, and–

Suddenly, a shape leapt from among the petitioners, a peasant in ragged clothing and a wide hat, flying through the air with impossible speed, arms outstretched and tatters flapping behind him.

From Padma’s hand shot a mottled black and green snake, flying toward Nyima Tsenpo’s bare face and neck.

The ragged peasant plucked the snake from the air as he passed over its trajectory, grasping it behind its head, landing in a crouch behind the governor. The snake thrashed furiously.

For all the bustle the hall had seen a split second before, this unexpected eruption of nigh-unbelievable action rendered its multitude suddenly silent and motionless…save Padma, and the one who had just saved Nyima Tsenpo’s life.

The governor’s flying defender cocked back his arm to heave the snake toward a high window, but did a double-take as he noticed that the serpent had been transformed, while in his hand, into a strange bracelet. It was a snake, to be sure – but one made of some black metal, turning back upon itself to eat its own tail.

He threw it out the window anyway.

Padma was already moving on the governor again, and by this time, the multitude was in frantic motion, backing away from Tsenpo, assassin, and intercessor.

The strange peasant-champion swept his hat from his head and leapt into a position between Padma and her target.

In a fluid arc, he continued swinging his hat to intercept a second snake, which Padma still held by its tail. It closed wicked fangs around his hat’s brim before releasing its jaw to coil once more within Padma’s robe.

The old man – for the removal of his hat had revealed his long, white hair and deeply wrinkled face – fell into a defensive stance. “Leave this place,” he said to Padma.

Without hesitation, Padma erupted into a fountain of blows, now aimed at the old man rather than the one she had come to kill.

The old man ducked and dodged each cut and kick of her hands and feet, parrying lunging snakes with his hat. Trails of his wispy hair followed the movements of his head like delicate willow strands blown by an insane wind. 

“Return…home…to kill no more,” he advised Padma, judiciously doling out his words between her blows.

Ignoring him, she launched a knife-fingered strike at his eyes. He dodged to the side and grasped Padma’s wrist, striking her neck with a single finger. The apparently delicate touch made both of her arms fall uselessly to her sides.

Her eyes widened; she backed away. Then, looking down briefly at each shoulder, she focused her will, set her face rigidly in some unseen exertion, and flexed her arms to life once more.

Padma renewed her attack, spinning through the air, toes lighting only briefly on the ground between her spinning arcs of fist and foot.

The old man waited patiently for the correct moment, dodging the attacks as they came, then simply reached out to stop her whirling orbits with a single action of both hands. He wrenched one of her feet from the air and threw it violently to the ground, then ducked the striking bite of a hooded snake that erupted from the back of Padma’s collar as she crashed down.

Through it all, the old man kept his body between Padma and Nyima Tsenpo.

Padma leapt back to her feet and intensified her attack; the old man countered each swing and turned aside every serpent as quickly as it lashed out.

Padma’s robes were now cast aside. Although few remained in the hall, all could see her exotic foreign dress and the abundance of jewelry she wore: bracelets, armlets, pendants, earrings, belts, charms, and rings. All were worked with the patterns of snakes, and each was apparently capable of taking on a life of its own at any moment.

The governor had retreated into a corner as Padma and the old man fought, drawing the combatants behind him as Padma advanced and his defender intervened.

The members of the governor’s guard had been caught utterly unawares when the battle had erupted in their midst seconds before, but now they formed a half-ring around the three, slowly closing in to pin them against the wall.

The governor was too well defended by his aged and unasked-for protector, and the noose was closing behind her. Padma snarled frustrated hatred at the old man and then leapt upward and sideways, defying gravity, flying in an arc that took her to a high, upper window.

Like that, she was gone.

*

It was dark and wet on the roof of the manor hall, rain pounding on slick tiles as Padma fled across the lower of the sloped roof’s two tiers.

A dark shape – the old man – flew up over the edge of the roof behind her.

She leapt to the roof’s higher tier and continued running.

“Do you intend to return?” he shouted after her into the wind and rain. He leapt after her to the second tier. “I suspect you consider your work unfinished.”

He pursued her lightly, feet barely touching the slick tiles even as Padma missed a step, slipping briefly before catching herself.

Padma stopped suddenly and turned back to him.

“What business of is it of yours?” she shouted in frustration.

“I tend the Divine Spark,” he replied, ceasing his pursuit out of her arms’ reach. “My purposes are those of the Order of the Celestial Dawn.”

“Fool!” Padma shrieked at him. “My task was set by White Crane, an elder of that Order!”

“Yes,” he replied.

Padma stared at him dumbly, uncomprehending.

“Tell her that Lu Chen bade you kill no more.”

“You are Lu Chen?”

“I am.”

She stood still, in a half-crouch, considering this and him, as the rain pelted them. In the storm, no one below noticed them on the roofs of Nyima Tsenpo’s palace compound.

“Very well,” she told him. “I depart this place.”

She turned and walked away, squaring her back to him.

Lu Chen watched her. His eyes narrowed. “Your voice and heart are out of accord,” he called after her. “You have no intention of withdrawing.”

She turned back, fire in her eyes. “You ask the impossible!” She took three running steps and leapt at him.

Lu Chen dropped and slid down the wet slope of the roof on his hip and thigh, planting a foot upon a dragon ornament at the roof’s edge and then bounding back to his feet some distance from Padma.

“Studied inaction is often more difficult than the ill-considered deed,” he said, his calm voice carrying impossibly well in the noise of the storm. “But it is far from impossible.”

“You misunderstand.” She looked beyond Lu Chen to the ground, where guards were running in the courtyards. Still, they remained unnoticed. “The calling of assassin is the destiny and curse of my house. No other way is open to us.”

“Else?”

“Else we are crushed by the wheels and gears of ill karma.”

“How do you know?”

“I left it behind once, and it came to worse than naught.” Padma’s face twisted at harrowing memories.

Lu Chen took a half-step and flew the rest of the way back to the roof’s apex. “Better to endure one’s own ill-fortune than extinguish the Spark of another.”

Padma looked down again. The courtyard swarmed. She looked back to Lu Chen. “You are greatly concerned with the well-being of others. Are you a healer?”

“It is the most virtuous calling,” he nodded.

Padma nodded too, and then suddenly leapt down the slope of the roof, running toward its lip.

Lu Chen did the same, following her in parallel.

In a flash of lightning, those below saw the pair of them as they reached the edge of the roof and arced through the air, falling toward the ground.

Padma landed on her feet in the midst of guards, peasants, and functionaries. Her arms were a blaze among them. Where she reached, her nails were talons. The serpents about her body sprang to life, thrashing and striking.

“Madness!” cried Lu Chen, but the circle of bystanders around Padma’s whirlwind were already falling to the ground. Some collapsed from the force of her punches and kicks, others woozily toppling as her serpents’ venom acted as quickly as their hearts’ beating.

“Save these then, healer, and follow me not!” she cried to Lu Chen, and bounded into the crowd.

One bystander vomited a fountain of frothing blood onto the wet paving stones at Lu Chen’s feet.

He looked after the fleeing Padma, anguished, but knelt immediately beside this innocent and placed a hand on his chest. Closing his eyes, he focused the healing power of his chi, while Padma escaped into the storm.

*

The first rays of sun suggested themselves, before they pierced the sky’s dark veil, as a mist of light in the east. But the shadows among the homes and hovels near the entrance to Nyima Tsenpo’s compound were still dark, and would remain impenetrable for a few minutes more.

The guard at the gate came alert as a figure weary from travel approached, seeking entrance.

“I would enter our lordship’s precincts, to bring word of things near and far, as he himself has commanded.” This formal sentence was spoken a hundred times a day at this gate as the apparatus of the administration carried forth information from the governor’s mouth and returned to pour it into his ears.

But whereas the guard would normally recite an equally formal reply and stand aside for the functionary before him, instead he replied, “Our lord has retreated to his summer palace. Return home, until the word goes out that he has returned.”

The functionary blinked in surprise. He stood still for a moment, then turned in confusion and began to walk away from the gate. The guard resumed his station.

Past them both, in the concealing shadows within their earshot but outside their attention, a shadowy figure had overheard what she had sought to learn.

*

Padma passed among the trees and shrubs of the woodland without noise. Though she trod upon dried leaves and delicate twigs, they did not break beneath her steps.

She placed her hand on a slender tree trunk, and without evidence of exertion, scampered up it.

Up within its leafy crown, shielding her eyes from the sun – it was a placid and beautiful day – she looked through the foliage to Nyima Tsenpo’s summer palace. It was an elegant series of structures blending harmoniously with its surroundings and gathered in the usual style around a central courtyard.

She saw little activity. The honor guard at the gate stood ready, and minor bustle inside the compound suggested that the governor was, as she had overheard, in residence here.

Padma leapt gracefully to a closer tree, and then another. The bending of their trunks as she passed was no more noticeable than the motions of other trees swaying in the breeze.

When she achieved the ring of trees closest to the compound, she glanced at the gate guards once more. She delayed until their attentions were naturally fixed on some other point, and fell lightly to the ground at a run.

She crossed the open space in a heartbeat, leapt, and bounced lightly off the compound’s outside wall – which was also the back wall of some inward-facing building – and was up onto its roof in the blink of an eye, silent and unseen.

Running lightly across the roof, she shed the light, brown-mottled cloak she had been wearing, letting it fall behind her as a serpent sheds its skin. She drew a dagger from her belt, and the snakes across her body rippled in preparation of the task before them.

Padma slowed for a moment at the edge of the roof, looking down into the courtyard.

It was empty, now. She frowned; less busy than she would have expected.

She took a step off the edge of the roof, landing in a shadow.

Across the courtyard stood the manor. There, no doubt, the governor’s chambers would be found.

She watched once more, for a moment, and then she disappeared to some other shadow.

*

Inside the governor’s chambers, silk curtains cordoned off a small area where the governor’s silhouette sat in repose, meditative, atop cushions. An attendant stood at the edge of the room by a structural pillar, writing implements at hand atop a small wooden table, should they be needed. A pair of guards flanked the open main doorway, facing outward into to the hall’s outer antechamber.

The attendant suddenly wobbled and fell to the ground. He landed silently, the guards and governor unaware.

A shadow moved from behind the pillar toward the silk curtains.

Gracefully, the shadow stooped; a serpent slithered from her gentle hands onto the floor. A second later, it disappeared between two of the silk curtains…

…and in that split second, the figure within jumped into action. His arms were a blur, holding a silk bolt that swooped and then scooped. In a blink, the snake was imprisoned within an impromptu pouch, held at arm’s length and dropped to the ground where it thrashed impotently, spewing venom uselessly into the gauzy fabric.

Lu Chen pulled aside a curtain and emerged.

“Go,” he directed the pair of guards, who had only just noticed the all-but-silent breach of peace behind them and begun to turn around.

Shocked at Padma’s wraith-like appearance but nevertheless professionally composed, they nodded respectfully in assent and retreated from the room, closing the door behind them.

Padma raised an eyebrow at this, but kept her focus on Lu Chen. “You are in direct alliance with Nyima Tsenpo, now, then? Even as you must surely be aware that be plots – even now – to betray his people to the agents of your enemy?”

“I am allied with him in that I will not allow you to extinguish the Divine Spark placed within him by the will of the heavens.”

Padma grunted.

“Return home,” Lu Chen said. The gently issued command had the force of a mighty general’s order to his legions, but Padma was unmoved.

“Only when he lies dead,” she responded.

“That is truly your wish?”

“That is my vow.”

Lu Chen nodded, disappointed. “An invitation that you leave in peace would be issued without benefit. Your amicable departure would only presage a murderous return.”

“You shall not have my peaceful departure in any case, Lu Chen. Clearly, only by your death will I be permitted to discharge my obligation.” She laughed then, short and derisive. “My obligation to your Order, to carry out an act that would benefit hundreds, if not thousands.”

She suddenly lunged forward, her wicked dagger the leading point of her attack, serpents springing to life across her body from circlets, bracelets, belts, and clasps.

Lu Chen also leapt, toward rather than away from her, and knocked her dagger aside with a blow to her wrist. He then contorted to avoid lightning-strikes from a scattered bouquet of lashing vipers.

He extended a fist toward her throat. Predicting her block, his counter-strike was already in motion, sweeping his leg underneath her own to knock her to the ground.

Horizontal in mid-air, Padma rolled to grab Lu Chen’s trailing leg as it passed underneath her. Catching it, she stole its momentum to pitch herself back to her feet, throwing Lu Chen off balance.

Lu Chen responded by simply collapsing backward, rolling along his spine, throwing his feet up and over, somersaulting through the air to land lightly on his feet just outside the reach of a lunge and kick.

“Why protect one whom you know has betrayed your allies?” Padma asked.

“We have not yet been betrayed. Who knows what this one, or that one, will do in the future? Within each of us lies the limitless potential of the celestial gods.”

“Some have more potential than others.”

“Each Spark reflects the whole potential of the universe. All are equally limitless.”

Padma stared at him blankly, the subtlety of his point beyond her. “Why fight me? Turn your attention to more fruitful pursuits.”

“I am here, now, where there are two souls to save.”

“Two...?”

“Which is to leave uncounted,” Lu Chen continued, “the souls those two might touch, or be dissuaded from ending, in the lifetimes before each of them.”

Padma suddenly relaxed her defensive posture and stood up at ease, the various serpents coiling about her returning to inactivity and fading into her adornments. “How many souls could one person touch, I wonder?” She tugged her ear in thought.

Lu Chen also relaxed. “One Spark might touch one thousand thous—”

Lu Chen suddenly threw himself into the air, dodging by only a split second a three-inch serpent Padma had flung at him, transformed from the hoop that had dangled from her ear.

She followed this surprising attack with long steps, advancing on Lu Chen as a windstorm of punches, cuts, jabs, kicks. Lu Chen gave way purposefully, blocking each thrust, parrying every attack, stepping aside as her whirlwind bore down.

As he sidestepped out of a corner into which Padma had nearly maneuvered him, she coughed violently from deep within her chest; he ducked a sticky globule of flying spittle, which sputtered and smoked where it landed on the wooden wall behind him.

Padma fell back, into a defensive crouch. She breathed hard; he, no less so.

Again, impasse.

“You are a madman!” she cried at last.

“You have much to learn,” he replied.

“Then let one of us die now,” she said. She began sinking slowly once more into her favored posture of attack.

Then, suddenly, in the silence marked only by their deep breaths, there was a commotion outside.

They heard a voice shout out, “Tsenpo’s steward comes! He comes! Open the gate!”

Brief moments passed as Padma and Lu Chen searched each others’ faces for a forecast of any attack, while each strained their ears to hear more.

Their attentiveness was rewarded moments later with the sounds of the gate being opened, terse words being spoken, and then a wail of despair.

Padma dropped her stance of attack and backed away from Lu Chen.

Lu Chen began to move toward the hall’s door.

Each kept watchful eyes on the other as Padma scurried up the pillar by which she had entered the room and Lu Chen made his way toward the door.

Each departed the room simultaneously.

*

In the courtyard, Tsenpo’s steward stood before the woman charged with maintaing the household at the summer palace as she knelt on the ground, weeping. The household guardsmen – less than a dozen, a skeleton crew assembled for show to safeguard the impostor-governor Lu Chen – stood dumbfounded.

Lu Chen emerged from the manor house. He looked at the scene and deduced the news the steward must have brought instantly.

“The governor is dead,” he surmised flatly.

“It is so,” the steward confirmed. “It appears there is more than one assassin in this world against whom our vigilance must be raised.”

Across the courtyard, atop the storehouse by which she had gained access, Padma also heard these words. Without hesitation, she turned and leaped down outside the compound, taking no care to hide her departure.

Some of the guard turned at this motion and made ready to give chase, but they looked to the steward first, who looked in turn to Lu Chen.

Lu Chen shook his head. “Her vow is fulfilled, even if by the hand of another. She will trouble this household no further.”

*

White Crane dismounted her horse and crossed a small field of perfectly raked gravel to the doorway of a modest wooden house, leaving a trail of her footprints behind.

She opened the door and waited for her eyes to adjust; there was no light inside.

“White Crane,” Lu Chen’s voice came from the darkness. He sat motionless, meditative, facing away from the door, his eyes closed.

“Lu Chen, you are a fool.”

“We are all fools.”

“While you delayed our virtuous action, the Covenant of Twilight assassinated their own man while making our involvement known to all.” 

“A perverse course of action,” Lu Chen responded.

“This will make the attempt to recruit others like Nyima Tsenpo to our side, away from Twilight, the more difficult!” she raged. “It is as though you care nothing for our cause!”

“To the contrary,” he said. “If we do not walk unerringly down the path of our conviction, whatever victories we gain in our cause’s name will be for naught.”

“You would win the war, then, by losing each of its battles?” she asked contemptuously.

He did not respond, and after several silent moments, White Crane turned on her heel and departed, faced fixed in anger.

After she had gone and the air was still once more, Lu Chen spoke:

“I would concede the entire war, if by such surrender it could be won.”