Presented By Beware the Radish -------------http://btradish.tripod.com/-------------- HIGH STAKES Chapter 1: Take a Gamble starring Jinsaku Nagaoka Written (and created) by NeoVid Jinsaku knew he'd be having a bad day when he woke up. It had been years since a day that had started like that had been good for him. Prying his eyes open, he blearily looked around the hotel room. The sound of muffled techno music told him that Katsuya was already awake, and was getting a head start on his lifelong work of distancing himself from the real world. He decided to waste a moment's effort and look over. Sure enough, he had his headphones on, and was listening to the music with his eyes closed, already far off in his own little universe. As usual, Jinsaku wondered how his life could have possibly sunk so low for him to have to share a hotel room with a moron he didn't even like because he couldn't afford two rooms. A knock at the door was the next sign that this day would be exactly like every other day in his rut. He decided not to fight Fate and unlocked it. Tyrell opened the door, showing everyone his usual irritatingly positive expression. "Hi! How's everyone doin' today?" Jinsaku's expression didn't change from his usual steel-melting glare. "Shitty. How else would we be doing?" "Yup, you're your usual cheery self! You had a battle last night, didn't you?" "How did you know?" "Let's see... wet footprints on the carpet, soaked jacket wadded up in the corner, and of course nobody sane would have gone out in that rain last night." "If it was nobody sane, why didn't you think it was Katsuya?" "I'm psychic, that sort of thing." He went back to the subject. "Well, did you win?" "Yeah. That kid took me on with a Minion barely rated above 300. I don't know how he's managed to last so long if he goes out looking for challenges with his rank that low. He must have had more Cards left, though, since he was able to walk away afterwards." The big kokujin- 'Think English, dammit.' Jinsaku reminded himself- gave a demonstration of that partly-faked overenthusiasm that grated on Jinsaku. "Ooo, can I see!?" Jinsaku grunted and got out his newest Card: a Lightning type rated at 150/200. "I suppose I'll fuse this one with my weakest Card." He got out another Card and touched the two together. In a faint glow of yellow energy, the newest Card was soaked into Jinsaku's Card. He read the new stats. Carapace was now a Lightning/Air/Fire type rated at 450/430. "Did you notice it's noon already? Are you goin' to keep sleepin' twelve hours a day?" Tyrell asked. "I'm happier when I sleep, okay!? Lay off." He started to put the Card away before he saw that the glow hadn't faded the way it normally did. "Oh no. I think I'm-" His vision started to fade, then came back a few moments later. "I am really sick of that..." Jinsaku stumbled once, then looked up into Tyrell's smiling face, and Katsuya's permanently blank one. "You were given a challenge, right?" "Well, of course!" he snapped. "What else would it mean when I fade out?" "It could have been Katsuya's schizophrenia turnin' out to be contagious." The schizo in question had slouched back to his bed, and had his back to the two Players. "Right. Well, it told me I'm taking on some guy called Chase Campbell at five today." "CAMPBELL? You are in serious trouble..." As much as Jinsaku disliked Tyrell (about as much as he disliked everyone else), his judgement was disturbingly accurate when it came to the Game. "How much trouble exactly?" his narrowed eyes looking as if they would blow a hole in Tyrell before he could answer. "Hell, it takes a while to explain that guy. Let's get somethin' to eat first." They were both shocked when Katsuya got up and went to the door. "Wow... the zombie walks!" Katsuya, for once, looked straight at him. "That's not funny," he mumbled. "Uh..." he worked to say something coherent. "...sorry?" Still trying to overcome his surprise at Katsuya actually talking to someone, Tyrell went back to the subject. "I'm off work today anyway. The horror story about Campbell is sorta complicated... so I'd better save it 'til after we've eaten. I'll be waitin' outside when you're ready to leave." As Tyrell walked off with Katsuya in tow, Jinsaku thought about how much he hated the way the guy would take over everything anyone around him did. He had learned a long time ago that the only way to deal with him was to just go along with it all. His pessimistic imagination was starting to give him all sorts of disturbing ideas about this goon Campbell. Whatever the truth was, it couldn't be as bad as his imagination. At that thought, he sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course it could. ~=~=~=~=~ A short while later, he stepped out of the hotel lobby, into yet another grey Seattle day. Before Tyrell could say anything, Jinsaku asked, "Who's paying? I don't have any money with me." "I don't either. But never fear... The Cards will provide!" 'Shoot me.' thought Jinsaku. "Just trust their luck. They've always given you what you need to live, right?" "Wrong. And I notice you still have to work." That didn't make a dent in Tyrell. "Well, you're payin' for two people with yours. And I'm not as high-ranked as you. Let's just head to that Japanese place you like. We'll probably come in to some money on the way." "...Wish I could just play the lottery and make myself rich that way. But I still haven't got a good enough rank to beat twenty-five-million-to-one odds." Tyrell smiled at the thought. "Just because we're Players doesn't mean we can push our luck THAT far. _Campbell_ doesn't have a good enough rank to beat twenty-five-million-to-one odds. Forget it. Everyone gets what they deserve in the end." "I was afraid of that." ~=~=~=~=~ As usual, Tyrell had been right about the Player's luck. Jinsaku had found thirty dollars on the sidewalk before they had headed off to the restaraunt. Even so, they had still had to restrict themselves to some of the cheapest things on the menu. Jinsaku was suddenly struck by the thought of what their little group would look like to anyone else. He personally was the worst of the bunch. A skeleton thin, depressed-looking foreigner, obviously not caring about his appearance- that reminded him, he'd have to shave sometime this week- Then there was Katsuya. Dressed like a slacker, always wearing headphones, and going through everything he did like a robot. And, finally, the one who could pass for normal: Tyrell, a big, eternally smiling black guy with a mechanic's permanently ground-in dirt on his hands, even though he smelled like soap even at medium range. Tyrell, watching the door to the kitchen like a hawk, spotted their waiter. "It's here!" Jinsaku tried some of his order almost before the waiter could set the plates down. "Huh. At least they know how to do a good imitation of the food back home." Tyrell was watching the waiter leave. "Did you notice that guy's older than me? That's what I love about this country. Ain't it great that someone with an anthropology degree," he tapped on his own chest, "can work in a garage for exactly the same amount of money as a guy who didn't get through high school?" Miraculously, this observation got a reaction from Katsuya. "Don't remind me about high school." As Jinsaku wondered how Katsuya could hear through the headphones, he told Tyrell, "There were some rumors going around about how he managed to get into such a good school in the first place." He then remembered the reason he had come here. "Now, will you hurry up and tell me about Campbell?" Tyrell finished off his rice before he started into the story. "Right. I've been lucky enough to only have one run-in with Chase." "There's no chance of you getting right to the point, is there?" "Nope! Let's see, it was last year, just before you got here..." Tyrell parked his junkpile of a car down the street from the bank. He hated driving the damn thing. Even after several repairs, the thing was still as clunky and temperamental as one of the loaners from work. The moment he shut off the ignition, he blanked. The Cards informed him that he was going to challenge someone named Chase Campbell at eight tonight. He wasn't too happy about that. Win or lose (usually lose), it was just one step closer to eventually losing for good. Though he didn't particularly mind having chanced into the Game in the first place, he had no illusions about the odds of his winning in the end. Putting those thoughts aside, he went into the bank to cash what his boss tried to pass off as a paycheck. The run of luck he'd been having since becoming a Player had taken some of the pressure off at his underpaying job, but he was still nowhere near being able to get everything he wanted. Then again, he thought philosophically, no one could do that. When he went inside, he saw that everyone was being careful to stay out of the way of a short, thickly-built dark-haired guy with a pair of bodyguards looming next to him. Tyrell instantly sensed the guy was a Player, and from the way he had looked over, he had definitely noticed Tyrell. A nagging sense of familiarity came over Tyrell until he realized where he had seen the guy before. When the memory came, he could hardly believe he hadn't made the connection. THIS was Chase Campbell, founder of Campbell Security Systems and familiar face on the eleven o' clock news, as various prosecutors tried to connect him to "unexplained incidents". Intending to get to know his opponent before the battle, Tyrell walked over and introduced himself. "Hey, I'm Tyrell Morgan-" One of the goons immediately stepped between him and Campbell. Campbell pushed the guy aside. "Stand aside, Dean. Mr. Morgan and I need to talk for a second." The goons immediately moved out of the way. "I see you're not the type to be easily intimidated." "Never have been. Never been the type that backs down, either." "Good. I'm harder to match than you might think. I'll be ready and waiting." Campbell cracked his knuckles, offered Tyrell his hand and smiled disturbingly. Tyrell took the proffered hand. "You better be ready," Tyrell stated, his voice not giving any indication that he noticed Campbell was trying to squash his hand into pulp. After a moment, Campbell's smile became strained and sweat started beading on his forehead. Tyrell waited another second, then let him have his hand back. With a snarl, Campbell gathered up his security guys and left the bank. Tyrell noticed him surruptitiously wipe his right hand off on his pants leg. After seeing that, Tyrell idly wished he had brought a tire iron or something to use as a head cracker on the head cracker. The rest of the day was a blur of anticipation. Campbell had a bad reputation, and though Tyrell had an almost Zen-like total acceptance of everything, the thought of having to take on Campbell was getting him tense. After parking on Campbell's block, he checked his watch. 7:46. Just enough time. He stepped out of his car, remembering to set his alarm (though it wasn't like anybody who lived in a big-money neighborhood like Campbell's would bother to steal his piece of junk), and went round the block to the one way in through Campbell's fence. He was slightly surprised to find that the gate was still locked, and that the security booth was manned. Campbell did have a reputation for being paranoid, though. He told the first of the guards on duty, "Open up. Chase's expecting me." "Sorry. Mr. Campbell said we're not supposed to unlock the gate for anyone tonight." "I'm expected. I have to be there at eight." The CSS guy looked at him over the top edge of his sunglasses. "No one is being let in. Didn'tcha hear me the first time, pinhead?" Tyrell couldn't believe this. Maybe Campbell just hadn't remembered to inform the guards at the gate. When Tyrell noticed that there were only three minutes left till eight, he quickly said, "Look, just call Campbell and tell him I'm here." The guard sighed. "Alright..." After a moment on the phone, the guard set down the phone and smirked. "Mr. Campbell says, 'Haven't you figured it out yet, sucker?' And there's one more thing he said I should give you." It turned out to be The Finger. After carefully thinking out his course of action, Tyrell gut-punched the guy. This ended up with him being pummelled a few times and quickly kicked off the premises. Campbell watched the scene from his office window. Another easy win by forfeit. He would get Morgan's weakest Card automatically when time ran out... which would be right about... now. With a weak flicker, a Card appeared in the air in front of him. He grabbed for it as if someone was going to materialize out of the walls and take it (his street instincts coming back) and checked the stats. It was even lower than he had expected. Even if Morgan had somehow reached him, he would have been no trouble at all to beat. Of course, if a Player who was tough enough to be dangerous got the upper hand, all he had to do was switch to one of the crappy Cards he didn't care about, and lose that. He had known this was survival of the fittest as soon as he stole his first Cards, and was sure as hell going to prove he was the fittest there was. "So, he never actually fights and gets wins by forced forfeits. Why couldn't you just say that in the beginning?" "It was about time I told someone that story. And it's not like it could make YOU any more depressed. I found out a couple more things about him later: he was a small time crook before he was a Player, and- this is the big one- nobody heard of him til a couple of years after the Game started." "Hmmm. That is weird. Wait, how are we going to get to him now?" "Oh... I've got a way." An infuriating smile followed that statement. "And there's not a chance you're goint to tell me what it is." "Right again! You're really on a roll today." The definitely non-Japanese waiter returned. "Your check." Tyrell started to count the money out, then looked at the numbers a second time. "Uh oh. Check this out, Jin." "WHAT?! This is ten dollars more than it was supposed to be! We don't have that!" "Sorry," the waiter began, "but there's a misprint on the menu. It's clearl-" Jinsaku flew out of his seat and into a rage, two languages worth of swear words tripping over each other. "You damn... chikusho... mother-" As Tyrell slowly backed away from the scene, he tapped Katsuya on the shoulder. "I say we go out the back while Jinsaku reasons with the staff." Katsuya shrugged and followed him out. ~=~=~=~=~ Several minutes later, Jinsaku stormed out of the restaurant, homicidal fury showing in his eyes. "That was really funny, leaving me in there to deal with them on my own... especially when YOU had all the cash!" The infuriating smile returned. "You were being so diplomatic in there that I knew you could handle it." Jinsaku flexed his hands in the strangle position, and as he did whenever he talked to Tyrell, contemplated a murder/suicide. "You're not getting out of this by doing your reasonable bit this time." "Naw, I'm getting out of it by reminding you that you have something way more important to worry about. We've gotta get a good look at Campbell's new place before we try my idea. I can't get us in if we get caught doing it." As Jinsaku's fury slowly went away, he thought about how much he wanted out of the Game, and wondered whether the easier way would be dumping his Cards in a garbage disposal or stepping in front of a bus. Of course, he had tried both before and they hadn't worked. After dealing with insane amounts of traffic on the way, they got a chance to cruise around the mansion slowly enough to get a good look at the security. "Bigger than his last place. More goons, too, but since they're staying in the grounds, they'll be no problem," Tyrell stated smoothly. "Good. Now HOW ARE WE GETTING PAST THEM?!?!" Tyrell got that look he did when he knew he shouldn't say something, but was going to anyway. "Heh... sore wa himitsUUMPH!" he ended as Jinsaku's elbow buried itself in his gut. "I don't need comic relief, jerk." "You know how much more bitter you'd be if I never tried jokin' around? If you're in on a cosmic joke, the only thing you can _be_ is a jester. The best jesters can get people like you to think... like where would you be if you hadn't turned out to be a player?" "Out of college, working for a Very Big Company and making 15 million yen a year, that's where," Jinsaku retorted. "You just had to bring that up again, didn't you?" Jinsaku hated it when something got him thinking about home again. He could feel his carefully suppressed memories come flooding back... His last year of college had been pure hell. The work was no problem, Jinsaku being brilliant and all. What was the problem was the number of challenges he had run into since coming here. Back home, there had hardly been any Players, and he had once managed to go six months without a battle. Here, he was meeting challengers constantly, and worse, some of them were close to being knocked out of the Game entirely. He was never going to do that to anyone if there was any way to avoid it. The few other solutions he had come up with had failed miserably, so he had settled on his last resort: leaving Japan. Now he just had to deal with the complication of his pathetically bad English. Abe Katsuya, who was two years and a lot of good marks behind him, stared at him in disbelief. "You're planning _what_?" "I'm leaving for the States. I can't take it here anymore." "And why do you think I would want to go along?!?" "It's obvious! You hate it here more than I ever did. The only reason you've been here this long is because you're scared of what would happen if you tried to leave. If you went to the States they'd never be able to do anything about it. And... I can't go without a translator, anyway." Katsuya poked the much thinner and lighter upperclassman in the chest. "So that's your real reason? You almost had me convinced until then." Jinsaku remembered a saying about desperate times. "You want my real reason? Then watch real close!" He got out his Cards, there was the *FLASH*, and Katsuya was left staring at the Minion that had appeared right in front of his eyes. He was never the same again. "Then when we got here, somebody said something to me, and I _understood_ it... the first thing I did was yell at my Cards 'Why the hell didn't you say you could make me understand English?!?' and what I got was 'You never asked.'" With a small shock Jinsaku realized he had been telling the story out loud. "Hey, you knew that there would be consequences if you let an outsider know about the Game. It's YOUR fault he's this way, so you blame yourself and hate him _because_ you blame yourself. I understand." And that was the hell of it. He really did understand. Even though he knew Jinsaku was right to think it was his own fault. ~=~=~=~=~ After going off and wasting the next few hours trying to focus on the upcoming battle (though it ended up being the usual long adrenaline scream for Jinsaku), they left the car several blocks from Campbell's, just in case someone was watching. Tyrell led them through a maze of little side streets, avoiding any residents who might notice. They stopped in an overgrown park that had branches blocking every way to see out... or in. "Alright, you've been keeping me in the dark all this time, Morgan. Now, how are we going to get through what Campbell's got?" Tyrell held up one of his Cards between two fingers. "We don't go through it; we go UNDER it!" ~=~=~=~=~ Secure in his mansion's office, Chase Campbell set down the last wad of paperwork for that day. Despite the fact that he wasn't a particularly large guy, and wore a respectable business suit, he still radiated a sense of being dangerous. The sort of person who would pick someone up and break them into pieces just for the fun of it. And the sense was probably right. Campbell called his secretary on the intercom. "Has there been any sign of those visitors that I told security to watch out for?" "Not a sign, sir." 'That's strange. Normally they never risk waiting until the deadline is so close.' he thought. The secretary went on, "Security has reported one strange thing, sir. Slight tremors in the ground." "Tremors? I haven't noticed... wait, I think I feel one now. And..." letting go of the intercom button so the secretary wouldn't hear, "I could swear I smell... scorched metal?" He dropped the intercom with an expression of shock when the floor next to one of the walls buckled and a blunt metal blade, glowing red hot, punched through. What he knew was an Earth-type Minion crawled out, followed by three people, one of whom he recognized. "Morgan. So, you're a friend of the punk who's going to lose to me." Ignoring him, Tyrell held out his Minion's Card. "Okay, Burrower, get back in here." After the Minion faded, Tyrell backed away, leaning against the wall with a smug smile. "I'm staying out of this one, Campbell." Jinsaku turned his concrete-cracking glare on Campbell. "I'm not about to lose to you. I've had twelve matches with only two losses in all this time." "Oh, twelve. Well, I'm SO impressed. You're talking to man with nine cards," Campbell snorted. "If that's all you have, I'll go easy on you- for a little while. I'll start with my second-most powerful Minion." "Like I care. Use whatever you've got. I can take you down with my second-best also." Of course, Jinsaku's second-best was also his favorite, and the one he was best at using. He rarely resorted to bringing out his most powerful Minion. Tyrell walked to the other side of the room to keep himself well out of the line of fire, then dragged over Katsuya, who was off in his own little world as usual. Jinsaku got out his suddenly-pathetic-seeming deck of four Cards. He held out his favorite, the Ice/Water mix. "Okay, Aquazor, waste him." In a flash of magic, the monstrous thing appeared a few feet in front of Jinsaku. It looked to be made of chunks of ice pressed together, stood about six feet high, had four legs jointed like a bug's, a vaguely egg-shaped torso with an almost unnoticable little turret of a head, and completely mismatched arms, the right being massive and short, and the other being thin as a sword blade. Campbell was looking at the back of one of his own Cards, with a superior expression. "750/950. Better than I thought you'd have. But you're still doomed," he stated off-handedly. "Dread Machine." Another flash, and Campbell's Minion loomed in the center of the room. It was less monstrous than Aquazor, looking like an angular robot coated in a layer of red clay. Naked metal gleamed on its forearms, which were tipped with paired claws that could most easily be compared to railroad spikes. Jinsaku looked at its stats on the back of Aquazor's Card. Though he didn't show it, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw that thing's ratings. Defense/attack rated at 1360/1040. A physical powerhouse, able to take even more damage than it could dish out. Even scarier, though, was the type: Earth/Blood. Blood was even rarer than Darkness or Light, and he had never had to take on a Blood type before. After a tense moment, his resolve came back. He had never given up before- at least not in battle- and he wasn't about to start now. "Aquazor, Washout." Even though it was totally pointless for him to announce the attack, due to his mental connection to his card, he was one of the Players still in the habit of doing it. Cracks opened in Aquazor's chest, and a huge flood of water with sharp lumps of ice mixed in poured out, slamming into Campbell's Minion, which hadn't even bothered to move, then the wall behind it. Jinsaku looked at how much damage his best special attack had done. He went wide-eyed. 50. Goddamn. Points. Of. Damage. This was going to be a long, painful, ugly, fight. And that was if Campbell didn't start switching Minions. Campbell sat down behind his desk, seemingly even more condescending than before. "You know how much that oak paneling cost me, punk?" He was sick of having to deal with the property damage from his battles. There were times he considered having his opponents arrested after the fights, but his Cards wouldn't let him... He then realized he'd better not get distracted. "Berserk Claw." Dread Machine rushed forward, faster than anything made of that much metal had a right to be, and tore into Aquazor with a series of slashes. Chunks of ice went flying, leaving huge gashes across what passed for Aquazor's head. Its left arm was torn loose entirely before Jinsaku had the time to think of a counterattack. 'Ice Hammer!' he thought desperately. Aquazor's right arm changed shape, turning into a thick sledgehammer that, with a sort of crunch/clang, smashed into the center of the Machine's chest and sent it sliding on its back halfway across the room. He checked Machine's stats. "Just great. Down by another 60." Warily checking his own Minion's stats, he saw that Campbell's one attack had already done over 100 damage. 'Okay, it's going to be a SHORT, painful, and ugly fight.' Despite the unbelievable tension he was feeling, Jinsaku couldn't help making the same observation about himself that he always did when he was in battle: as much as he hated being a Player, when he was actually in a fight, he... it wasn't "wanted to live," exactly, but more... forgot that he didn't. He considered his options, and came up with a blank. He could always switch to Shade. It was a Darkness/Light type, and its stats would outmatch Dread Machine... no, he hated using Shade. It always made things too easy... but here and now, it still wouldn't be enough. To be continued (if this Impro catches on)... ______________________________ Author's note: Amazing what I got out of reading one untranslated installment of YU-GI-OH! isn't it? You might be (but probably aren't) thinking "Serious Impros don't do so well. Why'd he write one?" Well, it's not a serious Impro, it's a serious story arc. See, this story is meant to go in short arcs, focusing on one Player for a few chapters, then going on to another one. There are _thousands_ of these guys, so why limit yourself? The arc style also has the advantage that if anyone introduces Cthulhu cultists or some crap like that, all the good writers will have to do is end that arc, and focus on somebody on the other side of the planet. Oh yeah, C&C (heh, yeah right) should go to neovid@hotmail.com. -=-=- High Stakes: Rules of the Game and Character Guide (This has spoilers. Loads of them. Read the story first if you don't want to wreck your fun. In fact, you probably shouldn't read this unless you plan to write for the series.) Table of Contents: 1 - Terms 2 - The Cards 3 - The Elements 4 - Fusing Cards 5 - Ranking 6 - Challenges 7 - Player's Luck 8 - Battles 1 - Terms: All terms connected with the Game (such as the word Game right there) are capitalized. Most of the terms are self-explanatory. Anyone in possession of at least one Card is a Player, and is part of the worldwide Game. Each Card holds a Minion, which is a unique monster that can only be summoned by its Player. 2 - The Cards: The origin of the Cards, as well as how some people were chosen to become Players, is still a mystery (in other words, it's being left up to future writers). The Cards obviously contain powerful magic and seem to be linked to each other. They also can give information to their Players, but whether the Cards have minds of their own is a matter of some debate. Cards also have a permanent mental connection to their Player... read the Battles section for the consequences of this. 3 - The Elements: Minions can be any combination of these Elements: Fire, Air, Water, Ice, Earth, Lightning, Darkness, Light, and the two Elements that are outside of the relationships with the other Elements: Poison and Blood. ELEMENT WEAK AGAINST Fire Water, Earth, Light Air Fire, Lightning, Darkness Water Ice, Lightning, Darkness Ice Fire, Earth, Light Earth Air, Water, Darkness Lightning Earth, Fire, Darkness Darkness Fire, Lightning, Light Light Ice, Air, Darkness (As you can see, Darkness and Light are sometimes weak against Elements that are also weak against them. This results in both doing extremely high damage to each other.) Poison and Blood are both strong against every other Element, but when fused with other Elements, Poison is weakened, while Blood is strengthened. 4 - Fusing Cards: The only way to gain in Rank is by fusing Cards, won from losing Players, with your own. The fused Card's stats are added to the stronger Card. The stat balance of the Card is changed depending on the relationship of the Elements fused. Neutral Elements will leave the balance unchanged. Fusing opposing Elements will result in a Card with low life, high attack. Fusing complementary Elements will result in a Card with high life and low attack. 5 - Ranking: Rank is determined very simply. Add up the complete stats of all of a Player's Cards, compare that to the other Players, and you've got your Rank. At the start of chapter 1, the average Rank was a total of about 5,000. 6 - Challenges: Players are assigned challenges by their Cards. Both Players in the challenge are informed, with the lower-ranked Player having to seek out the higher-ranked. Failing to meet a challenge in time means a loss by forfeit for the lower-ranked Player, automatically giving his lowest-rated Card to the other Player. Players can challenge each other if they want. (Fair? Of course it's not fair. You think this is supposed to be fair because...?) 7 - Player's Luck: The Cards have the effect of twisting probability for their holders. This causes Players to be much luckier than normal people. The Luck is generally good, but not always. The strength of the luck is determined by the Player's Rank. This results in a lot of speculation about what will happen to the champion of the Game. And don't forget, the luck does NOT apply to the Game itself, only to the rest of a Player's life. 8 - Battles: Minions are controlled telepathically by their Players, linked by physical contact with the Minion's Card. Only two Minions can battle at a time. No outside interference is allowed. The Cards will not let the rules be broken, and things will get very ugly for anyone who tries to do it anyway. A challenge is lost when one Player's Minion is completely drained of energy. That Minion's Card goes to the winning Player. The consequence of a Player losing all of his Cards is... death, which is why this series lives up to its name. Beware the Radish 11/29/99