Gamers Pt. 10

We drove in silence for a few moments. Then Les asked: "What about Jazz?"

- "Vee knows all about Jazz. She knows that I'm in touch with Jazz by email. And Jazz is Vee's biggest advocate." I said.

- "No - I mean how doyoufeel about Jazz?"

I shook my head. "Not a fair question. She's not here. You know how I feel - felt - about her. But that's over. And it's not fair to Vee to compare them."

- "But you do." he said.

- "Of course I do. Both are artists, both beautiful, in completely different ways. Vee's money problems ... well, I'd love to help her, but she won't let me. Not to change the subject, but ... how are you and Lucy?"

- "Excellent." said Les.

- "That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

- "Yep. Don't want to jinx myself."

***************************

We were in a much better location this time. MaxCon was a little bigger than Gamescon, in terms of attendance, but we didn't see all of it, because Ed had booked us in for both morningandafternoon sessions.

He also seemed to have had a hand in selecting our players. He was there, in person, to watch us set up, and all of our players said hello to him. The first group were all male: 2 high schoolers, 3 college students, and two older guys, in their forties or thereabouts.

There was no repeat of Ian the whiner from Gamescon. Nobody complained about having to play a female character. And they were loudly appreciative of the artwork on the cards, and the board.

These were all experienced gamers, who understood the rules in the first few minutes, and picked up possible strategies within the first couple of turns. Some of them knew each other, and had evidently played games together before. There were old rivalries, older jokes, and some good-natured banter.

Les was grinning throughout the whole first game. I knew exactly what he found amusing. These guys were just like us, in many ways. One of the older men, Bill, was apparently legendary for his incredibly bad dice-rolling. Some people insist that, in the long run, statistics suggest that dice rolls will eventually conform to the law of averages.

I beg to differ. There are people like Bill, who are cursed. The dice gods have taken a personal dislike to them. They change dice, buy new dice, have exorcisms preformed on their dice - nothing works. Other players are afraid to let these accursed ones touch their dice, in case their affliction is contagious.

Oh, they can roll well - occasionally. They are particularly prone to good rolls when it doesn't matter. But over the course of a game, or an evening, the consistency of their bad rolls is just staggering - as well as statistically improbable. Gerry is one of these individuals. So was Bill.

Nonetheless, everybody seemed to have a good time. These experienced gamers - especially the older guys - were able to critique the game mechanics and my rules as effectively as Les did. They didn't all agree, of course, which started a lively debate.

Ed West returned to catch the end of the game, and listen to the critique.

- "It's only ten to eleven." he said, to Les and me. "You want to fit in a second game? Even if it runs into lunch time a bit?"

The players were willing, and so were we. The second time around, we attracted more spectators. Many people asked for a closer look at the cards, or asked the players about the game. Two guys also asked where they could buy it. Les gave me his patented 'I told you so' look.

When we finally did break for lunch, all of the players thanked us, and wished us good luck. Les was very pleased. "That wentreallywell." he said.

When we met the players for the afternoon session, both of us did a double-take. They wereallfemale. Two were probably still in high school, while four were in their twenties or early thirties. The seventh was a gray-haired lady named Ellen. We looked at Ed West, who had re-appeared to watch us start, but he just grinned at us.

This group did not know each other. Surprisingly, the two youngest, Tanya and Ava, were the most experienced gamers. Ellen admitted to having played a few games in her time, but the other four were virtual neophytes.

Les and I adjusted quickly, and went into full teaching mode. It took a little longer to get started, but it wasn't that hard. The women were smart enough, and they caught on fairly quickly. It turned out to be fun for Les and me, too, because they all seemed to be enjoying it.

This game took considerably longer than the morning editions. For one thing, the new players took considerably longer to make up their minds. They wanted advice, or consultation with each other, before committing to an action. It was time consuming, and a little bit irritating for the two youngest, who came to their decisions much more quickly. But it was also a pleasure to see how thoroughly they immersed themselves.

- "They're great, aren't they?" whispered Les.

- "You know," I answered, "it feels like in the morning, we had gamers playing Amazons. But this seems like Amazons playing a game."

Les gave me a second look. "Been saving that one?"

- "Nope. Just occurred to me."

- "Sure it did."

There was no way we were going to have enough time for a second game. Ed West came back around 4:00, to find us just wrapping up. The older lady, Ellen, pulled off the win. She had supported the two young girls, and then switched her allegiance three times, always finding a way to stay with the group in power. The others were fixated on becoming Queen, or completing their legendary quests, while Ellen concentrated on maximizing her Glory points.

Les and I congratulated her. "I wouldn't want to play against you." Les told her.

The other girls wanted to know how she'd done it, and Ellen was willing to share her strategy. Then we discussed the game in general, and fielded questions about the cards and the board. They were all pleased to discover that the artists were female. Two of the college girls wanted to buy the game.

The conversation went on well past 5:00. Ed West sat with us the whole time, asking a question here and there, but otherwise just listening. When the ladies finally thanked us, and went on their way, Ed stayed with us.

- "You guys have plans for dinner?" he asked. We didn't. "Texas BBQ sound alright?"

Ed had obviously been here before. He led us outside the hotel, to a Tex-Mex restaurant two blocks away. He informed us that he was picking up the tab, and wouldn't hear any arguments. "You came four hours from home to show people your game - at my request. Order what you like."

We talked about games in general, and Circle the Wagons in particular. I told Ed the story of teaching my parents and both of our girlfriends to play Stalag XV. He was pleased that the women had enjoyed his game.

- "That's one thing I especially like about your game, Dean. It appeals to the ladies. That's without turning off the males. But there's no question, more women are buyin' and playin' games than ever before."

"Your rules are simple, and well balanced. That's good design. There's also a good balance between luck and skill. Or strategy. Easy to pick up for rookies, but experienced gamers will like the options they can pursue, and the fact that there are several ways to win."

"That's all good. Then there's your art - the cards, and the board. They're both quite good. The board could be tweaked a bit, here and there. But the cards are a hit."

"Now, you can tell from the drift, here, that I'm interested in your game. I'll tell you straight, though, that I would have to convince my partners, and then we would have to convince our boss."

"And then we would have to deal with your artists. Two of them could mean twice the headaches."

I shook my head. "I don't think so." I said. I couldn't imagine Jazz causing a fuss, and I was pretty sure that Vee would be delighted if we could get her some money for her creations.

- "You may be right." said Ed. "Anyway, here's what you need to do: start researching games, and contract law. If we decide to make you an offer, you should know that you have options - and you shouldn't rely on us to explain them to you."

"I still have to talk to some of the people who played, and get their impressions. We'll also want to do some market research, and try to figure out the potential for your game."

"I'm not promising an offer. But it's a definite possibility."

- "Thank you." I said.

- "Alright, then. Now that the business is out of the way, let's eat some and talk about games."

I wanted to know how he had come up with the idea for Stalag XV. Ed was curious about why I had created a game with female characters. We had a couple of beers with our meal, and then Les let slip that I had designed another game.

- "Is that so?" asked Ed. "Tell me about it."

We talked for over an hour. I switched from beer to strong coffee. As a game designer himself, Ed was interested in everything about Maharajah, including what we had learned from playing it ourselves with our friends.

He apologized, and pulled out his cell phone. "Sorry, Sweetie - lost track of time. I'll be on my way back in a minute." He mouthed the word 'daughter' to us. "No. Well, I can ask them. You fellas free to come to the hotel room for a bit? Some people there who want to meet you."

Les and I exchanged a look. "Sure." we said, together.

- "Great. They'll come. See you in a few minutes."

We walked back to the hotel. "Room 413. In about an hour?" asked Ed. "Gives us time to change, and clean up, if you like. Bring Amazons with you, too."

Les and I were on the 6th floor. When the elevator door closed after Ed got off, Les punched me in the arm.

- "Ow! What was that for?" I yelled.

- "Dean! He wants to buy the game! He's interested!"

- "I was there!" I shouted. "What does that have to do with punching me?"

- "Sorry - I was just so excited - I had to hit something." he explained.

I punched him back. "Sorry." I said. "I'm excited, too."

We showered and changed, and called our girlfriends. We managed to sound like were merely having a good - not a great - time. I also called my parents. Then we headed down to room 413.

Ellen - the gray-haired lady from our second game - opened the door. We had met everyone there. Tanya and Ava, the youngest girls, turned out to be Ed's daughter and niece, respectively. Bill, the man with the dice curse from our morning session, turned out to be a graphic artist who often worked with Ed. Ellen was Bill's wife, and the director of marketing for Circle the Wagons.

- "How about a game?" said Ed. "What should we play?"

Tanya and Ava voted for Amazons.

- "Works for me." said Ed. "Everybody here already knows the rules."

As we set up, Les gave me a significant look. He glanced at Ellen, then looked back at me. I nodded. Public relations be damned - we were going to go for the win. Besides, it's no fun if you're trying to lose.

Les and I offered Tanya and her cousin an alliance. They helped us achieve our quests, while we supported Ava so that she could become Queen. Ellen offered to join us, but the two girls politely declined. With no other choice, Ellen had to team up with the older men.

Ed was putting everything he had into his personal combat skills. We had seen Cyn and Jazz do this several times, so we knew what to expect. Ed enjoyed the siege of Troy immensely, especially when he defeated Menelaus in single combat, and fought Achilles to a draw. Then he came roaring back to the Amazon homeland to challenge for the throne.

- "Time to strap on a shield, Ava." he chuckled. "Your big, bad Uncle is coming for you. Or am I your Aunt now?"

They fought an epic duel. Ed had the higher combat skill, but he rolled poorly. Ava could have won early, but her dice let her down, and she could only manage a tie. The Ed rolled very well, so that Queen Ava needed an 11 or 12 on two dice to survive.

- "Eleven!" she squealed.

Ava even drew first blood, but Ed's character was just too strong for her. It took several more rounds, but he wore her down.

- "Queen Ed." he mused. "I like the sound of that."

Tanya spent the next few turns preparing to challenge her father. Meanwhile, Les and I used our influence to engineer Ellen's exile. Ed was a juggernaut in combat, but he didn't have the political clout to protect her. He would have to wait for several turns before he could attempt to recall her. Ellen could pursue her legendary quest, but she wouldn't be there to support the Queen. Bill had pursued a strategy similar to Ed's, but his cursed dice held him back.

Tanya's challenge against her father was also epic. It was apparent to us that they had been rivals in quite a few games. She rolled well, and wounded the Queen twice. Then she rolled boxcars - 12, on two dice.

- "Booyah!" she shouted.

Ed needed ten or better to survive. This time, the dice went his way - he rolled eleven. Then he went on to wound Tanya in the next two rounds. They tied twice, and then Tanya rolled poorly. Her challenge had failed, but she had seriously hurt the Queen.

Two turns later, Les challenged, and finally defeated Ed.

- "Knew that was coming." said the former Queen. "It's up to you, Bill."

Bill had no option but to challenge. His combat skill was better than Les', but whatever malevolent force lived in his dice chose to make an appearance. Bill inflicted one wound on Les, but rolls of 4, 6, and 3 sealed his fate.

Les honoured our alliance by sharing the win with me.

- "Why?" asked Ava. "You're ahead in points."

Les explained. "I'm wounded. Dean could kill me, if he challenged."

- "Okay, so why doesn't Dean do that? He could get the solo win."

Ellen stepped in. "I'm guessing that these two play a lot of games together. Les knows that Dean will honor an agreement in the next game, and the game after that. And Dean knows that if he supports him, Les will share the spoils."

- "Sorry about that exile." said Les.

Ellen laughed. "It's my own fault. I tried the same strategy - but I forgot that you two watched the whole game this afternoon. You saw me coming a mile off."

- "Does the strategy I tried ever work?" asked Ed.

I thought of Cyn, and Jazz. "Quite often." I said.

We talked for a while, and then called it a night. Tanya and Ava wanted to play again.

- "Rematch!" they said. I laughed, thinking of how often Jazz had said that. But Ed told them what time it was, and drew the line.

He walked us to the elevator.

- "You'll hear from me." he said. "Soon as I know, one way or the other, I'll be in touch. Don't forget to research your options."

- "Thanks for dinner, and everything." I said.

- "Thankyoufor coming."

Les and I had a tough time getting to sleep.

***************************

We agreed on the way home that it was too early to tell Lucy and Veeeverything. Les would be devastated if Ididn'tget an offer. If Ed did come through, we could tell them all about it, and celebrate. The best thing, for now, was not to worry about it. Why sweat the things you can't change anyway?

We did talk to my Dad, and consider options. And I composed a careful worded email to Jazz, telling her about the convention, and what a hit her board had been - but without mentioning the possibility of an offer. I did repeat the line that Les had liked so much, about the gamers playing Amazons, while the Amazons played our game.

Jazz was enthusiastic, supportive, and slightly jealous.'Wish I could've been there.'was her last line.

Vee pulled some overtime on Monday and Tuesday. When we got together on Wednesday, she was so beat up that I just made sure she got something to eat, and then put her to bed - alone.

- "I'll make it up to you." she promised, just before she fell asleep.

Friday was guys' gaming night, but Vee had told me to make no plans for Saturday night. She asked me to come to Angie and Trisha's apartment at 8:00 - and to arrive hungry.

She answered the door wearing cutoff jeans and a denim shirt which she had not buttoned. Instead, she had simply tied it beneath her breasts. I started to get hard immediately. Vee saw me appraising her outfit.

- "It's hot in here." she explained. "I don't know if their air conditioner is working right. Or maybe it's the heat from the stove."

- "You look amazing." I told her. Vee had nice legs, and I couldn't remember if I had ever seen her in shorts - especially such abbreviated ones. They were also quite low-slung: I could almost place my whole hand between her navel and the top of her shorts.

The shirt, though, was extraordinary. Vee rarely showed much cleavage - but now she was wearing an unbuttoned shirt that gaped open. The vistas which opened were simply spectacular.

Vee went to the fridge to get me a beer. She was not a practiced temptress, but when she bent over, those shorts presented me with an exciting view of her tight ass. I doubted that she had done it on purpose, but still ...

- "Smells great." I told her. "What are we having?"

- "Linguine a la vongole. Clams, white wine sauce. Hope that's OK."

- "More than OK." I said. I stood behind her, to watch her cook. And to look down her shirt. Oh, man. I was fully erect, and likely to stay that way for a while. She caught me staring, and just smiled.

- "It's almost ready." she said. "Go sit down."

I did as ordered. We chatted about food, her job, and MaxCon. I feasted my eyes on all the exposed flesh she was presenting me with. Soon enough, she served me a wonderful meal. She was in excellent spirits, and seemed to have more energy than she had had in several weeks.

The food was very good, and I complimented her more than once. I repeatedly told her how good she looked. By the end of our meal, Vee was glowing.

I collected the dishes, and carried them to the sink.

- "You can just leave them." she said. "I'll wash up tomorrow."

- "It will only take a minute - and I'm happy to do it." I answered. As I began to wash the dishes, Vee came up behind me, and hugged me, wrapping her arms around my chest. Her massive breasts were pressing into my back as she held me tight.

By the time I had stacked the last pot, I was more than ready for dessert. I turned around and took her in my arms. Our lips met, and we shared a passionate kiss. I squeezed her ass in those tight little shorts, and stroked her back.

Vee surprised me by taking charge. She led me to the couch, and practically pushed me down on it. Then she untied her shirt.

- "I promised that I would make it up to you." she said, softly, as she opened the shirt, and then removed it entirely. Vee knelt before me, and helped me remove my pants and underwear. She ran her hands up my legs, and then back down. On the way back up, she ran her fingernails across my bare skin.

Vee lowered her head into my lap, and began licking my hard cock, as if it was an ice cream cone. She wrapped her hand around the shaft, and slid it up and down as she engulfed the head of my cock in her mouth. I tried to reach for her breasts, but she batted my hands away and pushed me back. She wasn't about to let me interfere with her ministrations.

Much sooner than I would have expected, she brought me to the boiling point. I warned her that I was close, and she began bobbing her head up and down, while gently cupping my balls and rolling them between her fingers. That did it for me. I came hard, firing jets of come into her mouth. She swallowed it all.

That done, Vee stood up, and turned her back to me. She unbuttoned her shorts, and peeled them off, revealing that she was wearing a tiny black thong underneath. I had never seen her with anything but practical, utilitarian panties - I hadn't even known that she owned anything like this.

She lifted the straps of her thong, and turned partway to smile at me, thus also presenting me with a side view of her magnificent breast. She joined me on the couch. I kissed her lips, her neck, and her shoulders. I kneaded her ass cheeks. My lips travelled across her throat, and down the slopes of her mountainous tits. I teased her nipples with tongue and teeth, before moving further down.