[Swords of the Skull-Takers] The ones who don't make it

[Bret Gillan]

I played a brief game of Swords of the Skull-Takers after Ron's post. I enjoy it a lot, and I quickly began to develop strategies for it that would be improved through repeated play which is great. I didn't track my draws, though when below Patricia was the Empress and what killed James wasn't the Skull-Takers but, with one life left, a draw of Death as a Major Boon after a successful search. RIP. I'm imagining it wasn't a Skull-Taker that took him, but something else, in between man and Skull-Taker.

This was a solid solo play game. The only other one I've played recently was How to Host a Dungeon, which I enjoyed, but this had more straightforward procedures (I think). I enjoy that there are meaningful decisions to make, and some amount of judgment and gauging probabilities in the resolution mechanic. Going for cards that will be easy calls (low or high) and angling towards Coins were what I should have done with James, but didn't realize until he was totally hosed.

I would and will play this again.

November 8, 2013

My name is James Smith. I've holed up in the basement of an apartment building in what I think is Astoria. I've never known the neighborhoods really well so I'm not sure. I'm still alive, but my family is not. I miss them.

I don't know who might read this. Maybe no one. If you do find this, whoever you are, I hope the Skull-Takers are a long-gone nightmare. I'm a legal researcher. I'm not equipped for this. Can you read? Does the phrase legal researcher even make sense anymore? Are you just staring at this and then using it for a fire?

I hope once I'm gone there are still people left behind.

November 9th, 2013, Day 1

I'm going through the apartments upstairs one by one looking for food or anything else that looks useful. Who knows, maybe I'll find someone? The first floor yielded nothing. No food, all looted or taken when the tenants fled. One had a fridge full of rotten food. I'm hungry.

November 9th, 2013, Night 1

They haven't find me yet. The hiding place still holds, though I heard them prowling the street. I heard cars being crushed, metal twisting and glass breaking. No screams, though. I don't hear that anymore. That's nice.

November 10th, 2013, Day 2

The second floor yielded a surprise. A woman named Mary lives there. Her family left and tried to get her to come, but she stayed. It is good to have someone to talk to, even if before we would have little to say one another. We had a spartan meal together: some of my supplies and some food she has squirreled away. She talked about her family. I talked about mine. We are probably all that's left of our families now. I told her I would be in the basement if she needed me.

November 10th, 2013, Night 2

My hiding spot was found. The windows smashed and one of their tentacles grabbed my leg, dislocating it. I managed to kick my way loose and flee into a closet. I hear the thing thrashing around in the basement, and I think I heard Mary screaming upstairs. Then the screaming stopped. I cried in the dark, from the pain and for Mary.

November 11th, 2013, Day 3

Mary was gone. Only blood on her floor. If I am going to protect myself and anyone else I find I need a weapon. I went to the police station, limping on my bad leg. Maybe a gun or a shotgun or something. I didn't find any, but I found Patricia. She used to be a cop. She told me to stay there with her. Other people would come. So here I am.

November 11th, 2013, Night 3

This place wasn't safe. Can barely write. Patricia fought them off. Think ribs broken.

November 12, 2013, Day 4

Patricia trying to find supplies to barricade. Tells me she can't find anything. It's hard to breathe.

November 12, 2013, Night 4

Patricia's gone. Dragged away last night. Saved me. I don't know why. Can't move.

[The journal ends]