Muse Academy Game Room, v. 2013
Repaired, repainted, reinforced, and ready for Paker!
Continued, after a considerable lapse, from the 2011 Game Room thread.
Date: June 8, 2013
Categories: Muse Academy, Nonrandom Craziness, The Musiverse
Thursday, 18 April 2024
Life, the universe, pies, hot-pink bunnies, world domination, and everything
Repaired, repainted, reinforced, and ready for Paker!
Continued, after a considerable lapse, from the 2011 Game Room thread.
Date: June 8, 2013
Categories: Muse Academy, Nonrandom Craziness, The Musiverse
The Rules, as copied by Optimatum from POSOC’s post.
Long Version: There are at least eight major suits: Herons, Hares, Hedgepigs, Roses, Eclairs, Peanut Butter, Chorley Cakes, and Muffins. These consist of the usual rankings: Ace, King, Queen, Jack (or Knave), 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 (or Deuce). There are a multitude of combinations one can make from these, which create various effects on the game, and more are being invented all the time. In addition to the standard cards, there are several dozen rare cards, which either cannot be categorized into any suit (such as Anarchy, HPB, and Cheshire Cat) or are specialized variants of a suit (such as Wung of Jasmine or Mess of Eclairs), and have various specialized uses. These are also being invented throughout the game. A notable one is the Golden Wung, which can only be played by the High Bailiff and signifies the end of a round. When a round ends, all temporary rules in the previous round are made null unless otherwise specified.
There are a great variety of points, the major ones being Creativity Ceylon and Wung. Wung points can only be placed on the table by the High Bailiff. They can be brought into play when the Bailiff awards them to a player or when a player lays a claim to them. In the latter case, a claim can be challenged by another player or players. The claimants then battle it out for the wung points. Wung points, once in the hands of a player, can be exchanged willingly between players or captured from a previous owner in a duel.
Creativity Ceylon points can be arbitrarily created and awarded to other players once created, for acts of great honor or imagination.
All kinds of points can be placed at the four cardinal directions to create various offensive and defensive positions.
Short Version: Make it up as you go along.
Who’s Bailiff this game?
I was Bailiff for too many years–I want to play normally. Er, relatively speaking. Perhaps Paul could find a few licks of free time in the nooks and crannies of his schedule to return to his old post? Or is there someone else who’s itching to give it a shot?
I wonder which board we’ll use for this game. I do like the big teak one with the flourishes around the edge. It does tend to be a bit five-dimensional, though.
Yay! I’m up for Paker anyday! Don’t want to be Bailiff, though.
If no-one else wishes to take on the mantle (or the rather grand hat), I think i can be persuaded. I would, however, request the use of the correct appellation “High Bailiff” when referring to the general overseer. If some inconvenient participant wishes to play Meldrew’s Gambit or create a Malta Conflex, we’ll need a Low Bailiff, an Under Bailiff, and at least two Side Bailiffs. I doubt whether we will ever attract that number of competent players, but one never knows.
I could serve as High Bailiff, but if Paul’s willing to do that I would be equally happy as a simple participant.
I would certainly be interested in playing!
Well, shall we begin? Here it is a lovely rainy day, good for Paker. High Bailiff?
It is delightfully sunny here, but I have drawn the blinds and lit a few smoky candles. I have taken my place on the High Bailiff’s perch. I will cede the perch to Posoc upon request.
So. Apologies, Piggy, but having lived through the 1970s, I have issues with teak. I have erected a Novosibirsk Frame, mainly in simulated Jacobean oak, with stainless steel struts where required for resilience.
I pick up my hand and place the two of hedgepigs onto the table. This starts the round, as is tradition.
Right. let’s start gently. Four of hedgepigs, directly opposite, face down.
Six of hedgepigs, equidistant from both — but with an Exchequer back, since too much symmetry is bad for a person.
Hmmm….. To avoid establishing a concrection this early, I’ll play six, seven, eight and nine of roses, disitributed as a regular tetrahedron around the centroid. Six is anchor, on the prime vertical.
To pick things up, I invoke section 2.6b of the recent edition of the Strudel Codex, opening up a bidding session and place a one minute glass upside down. Obviously, as none have yet received wungs, the bidding is technically void and my hand is arrayed on a three by three pattern above the vertical, all face up and now open to general use at will, and I redraw my hand. The cards on the table are aligned (top to bottom, left to right):
2 of herons, 3 of herons, knave of eclairs,
9 of hedgepigs, 6 of hares, queen of eclairs,
and 3, 7, 4 of muffin, chorley cake, heron, respectively.
Naturally, any keen players will take note of the potential structures on the near runs of both herons and eclairs.
I request a formal adjournment of the session from the High Bailiff.
I build a card house using the Aces of Chorley Cakes and Eclairs, the two of muffins, and the three, five and eight of Eclairs, with a queen of Peanut Butter to stick them all together. The combination of a Fibonacci sequence and Peanut Butter makes the card house extremely stable. Now it cannot be budged from the playing field.
I play the Joker of Magpies. It takes flight, and perches atop FantasyFan’s card house.
Gimanator’s adjournment request is ingenious, and seemingly innocuous. I am not so easily fooled, however. I have read the Strudel Codex, and I’m fully aware of the potential for creating a vertiginous complex if enough time is allowed. So I’m going to open up the field. I am replacing Gimanator’s 7 of muffins with 7 of hares to create a minor dichotomy (Rule 19 / 4.3) and applying an inverse sheer rotation to my tetrahedral array. It’s now anchored on the 9 of roses, on the 3rd cardinal. This makes Oxlin’s Joker of magpies very vulnerable, but I suspect she can handle it. I am also distributing 5 Wung Points to each player. New players will also receive 5, unless they enter at an implied node, in which case they will have other advantages.
I play a King of Eclairs and declare the pre-played Queen and Knave a Pasteboard Court. This leaves a couple of empty slots in the 3×3 complex that Gimanator played, but of course it wasn’t part of a substantive structure and so doesn’t create a Vacuum. Under the rule of Eminent Domain (AdLI pp. 20-23) the Pasteboard Court also draws the Four of Herons into my sphere of influence, removing the right row of the complex.
Oh, well played! That missing row creates a perfect threat of imbalance, without compromising the underlying structural integrity of the matrix. I shall wait for Oxlin’s move before responding. I want to see how her Joker fares. If my calculations are correct, you could lock her onto a diagonal in four moves.
((Though not a Pakerist myself, I must say it’s delightful to see the old game room back in business.))
((Is it too late for me to be dealt in? Sorry, at the time this thread went up, I was without internet.))
((I don’t think it’s ever to late to jump in! Just make a play and go ahead and get started!))
Randomosity – please accept this hand and 5 wung points.
Thank you, High Bailiff.
I play an Eight of Chorley Cakes and a Seven of Peanut Butter. The Chorley Cakes stack into a Layered Tower, glued firmly in place with the peanut butter. I then play a Mess of Eclairs over my tower which covers it in a thick layer of super-slippery custard. I regard the developments concerning the complex with suspicion, and cautiously sit back to watch what will happen next.
In order to stabilize my Joker of Magpies, I play the four of Hares, the four of Roses, the four of Chorley Cakes, and the four of Muffins in an unoccupied corner. This combination of four fours creates a tesseract. As it occupies the fourth dimension, part of its realm is surrounding the Joker of Magpies, now in a stabilized field.
In light of all the four-fold symmetry happening on this board, I play the claimed Four of Herons at the north cardinal and bind 4 wung points to it. Since my hand’s a bit low on useful cards, I supplement it with an Eccles cake each at the east and west, leaving the King of Eclairs to devolve south and the Knave and Queen to the verticals. This forms a variant Chatterjee Palace of the first level. (Obviously a standard Chatterjee would have Madeira cake, but I like the versatility the Eccles lends it.)
I’d also like to propose an alliance to FantasyFan. Her card house involves a heavy Eclair configuration that could be combined with the Pasteboard Court to our mutual benefit.
I wondered if you’d go the Chatterjee route. Right, I will place twenty unclaimed Wung Points on the table, and play five, four and three of Hedgepigs, weakly re-establishing the right row of the complex, and potentially creating an implied inversion of the main construct.
After dithering over my next move for a couple days, I decide to shake things up around here. I send the King and Queen of Hares to command all other Hare cards on the table to rise up and devour any pastries on the table. This destroys my own card house, and much of the fourfold configuration keeping the playing field stable. This is a self-sabotaging move, but i consider it worth it if it attracts the attention of the other players.
I would tentatively accept POSOC’s offer of alliance, but I doubt you’d want it after I destroyed the very thing that made me useful, and the entire board.
Consider the offer retracted like cat claws. (I have to applaud the bold move, but it undermines me as much as anyone else.)
Fortunately I can sacrifice this King of Hedgepigs (Blackwater back) and my single uncommitted wung point in a Fiery Heart maneuver. This has two chief effects.
First, Hedgepigs are now trumps.
Second, the King of Eclairs temporarily assumes all intangible qualities of the sacrificed King of Hedgepigs, up to fourth tier (not fifth or higher, because polysuited retrocausal inversions aren’t fun for anybody).
Since my Eccles cakes are nominal eclairs with respect to the Palace, this grants my Court sufficient influence to temporarily protect them from the Hares.
I draw a card and end my turn.
I realize my caution was warranted as the hares advance on my Layered Tower. The slippery custard gives them quite a bit of trouble, but before long they are sure to lick all of it up. At that point they will begin eating the Chorley Cakes, destroying the structural integrity of my already-doomed tower.
With a nod in the direction of FantasyFan to acknowledge her intriguing and bold move, I proceed to try a different tactic.
I play four Fours of Roses at strategically-distanced points in a currently unoccupied space near the feeding frenzy that my tower has become. Here I take a page from oxlin’s book, as the combination creates a rather large tesseract. This is a precautionary measure, for if the board and/or the fabric of reality are fully compromised it should create a pocket of stability. Because I constructed this tesseract with roses, it contains four-dimensional thorns which are liable to harm anyone who passes through the field of stability without getting my permission first. A thousand apologies for this un-neighborly behavior, but unfortunately such things are a hazard when roses are involved.
I would like to extend an offer of alliance with oxlin, since the loss of Chorely Cakes and Muffins will destabilize your own tesseract.
I play the Five of Muffins, Seven of Roses, and Ten of Muffins in a stack configuration, re-orient them laterally, and declare Banks’s Exigence. The unprotected King and Queen of Hares are discarded, ending the suit-wide feeding frenzy. The Seven is also discarded, leaving the Five and Ten to collapse into a stable and mostly inert duo.
Well, my move certainly had the desired effect. I appreciate POSOC’s end to the feeding frenzy just as much as anyone else, however.
I make a much more productive move, this time. I play the fives and sixes of all suits to create a tessellating buckyball. Under the Archcodex of Obstreperousness, the board is now open to multi-dimensional moves without incurring a penalty. Have at it, guys.
I place the Knave, Seven, and Eleven of Roses on the table in a trifold structure. For the second layer, I play the Queen, Twelve, and Three of Roses. This dual trifold structure (reaching into the fourth and fifth dimension (which is why there are Elevens and Twelves)) will form the basis for my Rookery. In it I place my Joker of Magpies, as well as Jokers of Crows, Ravens, and Rooks.
I award two wung points to each player. This is getting interesting. I would remind you all of Meldrew’s Conjecture if you are thinking of establishing strong diagonals in more than three dimensions. However, for the moment, you seem to be maintaining relatively safe levels of structural integrity. I will merely play the eight of hares to support the prime cardinal. I know it is inconvenient, but you will have to play around it. The High Bailiff must maintain some sense of responsibility.
I secret the 2 wung points within the Palace.
Next I place a wung button at both 4th-dimensional cardinals, extending the Chatterjee Palace into that realm. With higher-dimensional play so early in the game, a conventional 2 or 3D bastion would offer about as much protection as a hula hoop. I further play the Knave of Chorley Cakes external to the Palace but adjacent to the Knave of Eclairs. They form a Temperamental Duo: not as potent as the classic Disreputable Duo (Hares & Peanut Butter), but it still facilitates the sort of delicate inversions that are useful in the fourth dimension and up.
I end with a Kepler Card, which causes the stable duo of Muffins to absorb unclaimed wung points at a rate of 2/turn; draw four; and defer.
Right, I’ve had enough of responsibility. I see that my hand is rich in hares, so I’m playing a line of them – 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 – right along the prime cardinal. This constitutes a Hare Line Crack, which may be exploited to disastrous effect by any player reckless enough to cite Justification By Pun (appendix 4, rule 6b).
((Of course, anyone holding the 9 of Hares could now play a Hare’s Breadth Escape.))
Good thing I played the Exigence to shut down the frenzy, otherwise we might have a Hasenvernichtungswaffe on our hands.
Is anyone still about? The last non-Bailiff move was mine, so it would be fairly gauche for me to play again before someone else.
I’m having way too much fun playing recklessly. I would love to exploit that Hare Line Crack, but sadly I cannot think up a good enough pun for my next move.
((That’s all right; everybody has bad hare days.))
I raise a contemplative eyebrow at the Hare Line Crack, then decide to err on the side of caution. Inside my Tesseract of Roses I play a Four of Stones, creating a Rock of Stability and anchoring my Tesseract firmly in four dimensions so that it cannot be entered through or carried into any dimension higher than the fourth. The fact that it is a rock and the rose thorns around it should protect it from any rogue hares – which is good because as per the Equal Rites Clause of the Dimensions, the Rock of Stability appears as a stone carrot until any player institutes a better fourth-dimensional adjective.
Then, because I do not wish to short myself out of all of the upper-dimensional fun, I play an Eleven of Sand and a Twelve of Lightning, which fuse into a Glass Periscope into the dimensions higher than four. It can be used for observation and – in combination with certain other cards – egress, but not entry. If I decide to exit my Tesseract through my Periscope, I cannot re-enter it without reducing my dimensional existence back to four or fewer dimensions.
I look through my Periscope to observe what will happen next.
I play the Ten and Eight of Chorley Cakes in descending order, then use them as points of contact to move my Knave of Chorley Cakes onto the far end of the Hare Line Crack. Draw two, end turn.
Two more wung points to all players. I play the Four of Roses against Randomosity’s Four of Stones, establishing Stone Roses, which is a Minor Band Concretion. It temporarily locks the centre of the Hare Line Crack, but opens up several possibilities for multiple inversions along the diagonals in the 4th dimension. That periscope may come in useful.
It’s a little disappointing that after my Fiery Heart Maneuver, setting Hedgepigs as trumps, I’ve been drawing no Hedgepigs whatsoever. Well, my fortunes might change soon. That Hare Line Crack has a lot of potential, even with Stone Roses established.