Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Chapter 33

Practice, Practice

“I hate you all over again,” the hustler sighed when I finished showing him my cards. “I’d kill my kid sister for a haul like this.” We were working our way through the honeycomb network of hallways tunneled into the recesses of the Coliseum, and I didn’t trust the boy well enough to hand the cards over, so I’d drawn them one by one into my hand to show to him. Once I got to 10 cards I couldn’t bring any more out no matter how I strained, so I’d let go of the Lesser Healing Potion, letting it dissipate back into my Mind Home, and only then could I bring forth my 11th card into my hand. It was my new Epic, the Talisman of Spite, and that was what had prompted the new declaration of hate from my temporary tutor.

“I should have gotten more,” I said bitterly, letting all the cards disappear back into my Mind Home. “I jumped to a bargain too quickly and got taken.” I still wanted to find that damned half-dwarf and kick his rocky little ass up into his ears, even if it broke my toes.

“Bad deals happen,” the boy said, waving a hand. “Feel bad, sure, and learn from it – but save all that for later or else it’ll cloud your thinking and lessen your confidence in the arena. Fact is, you’ve got the core of a mean little deck here that can wipe the floor with most folks in the city, so long as you learn how to use it. Ah, here we are.”

The practice arena was a space a little larger than the Artisan and Soulsmith hall I’d visited with Penkmun the Tender the day before, with a raised arena in each of the four corners and a handful of benches ringing a wide cistern of water for a rest area in the center. The dueling spaces were all empty. A fat, balding man was taking his ease on a bench, thumbing his way through one of those cheap novels I sometimes saw the merchant folk reading. He ignored us even when we stood right beside him.

“Need to use your training dummy,” my companion said to him.

The man grunted and turned a page.

“If you can spare the time. Must be awful busy,” the hustler said dryly.

“Two clips.” The man didn’t even look up.

The boy next to me rolled his eyes but motioned at me. I didn’t like having to spend even more money that he was already costing me, but having something to use my cards on seemed like a good idea, and there were a few clips rattling around in my stolen purse anyway. I fished two out and handed them over, and the man’s eyes left his book for the very first time as he inspected the money carefully and tucked it behind his sash. An Order source flowed into his left hand and was immediately cast overhead as a summons card appeared in his right. He cast the card and immediately went back to reading. Instead of appearing right next to him, the Soul appeared in the center of the furthestmost practice arena.

The hustler thanked him – to absolutely no response – and we climbed up into the ring.

“Ignore the dummy for now,” he told me. “We’ll need it in a bit, but first we have to talk business about your cards.”

“Yes,” I said eagerly. “I’ve been thinking maybe there are some I shouldn’t use right now. The more cards I have, the harder it will be to draw my Hammer-Void combo, and that’s what really works.”

“That’s what works because that’s all you’ve had until now,” he said, leaning against a corner post. “You’re scared to branch out.”

“Am not,” I shot back. “But having more cards can be a problem if it disrupts my play style. I know that much, at least.”

“You’re not wrong,” he allowed, “but you’re not right, either. Fact is that your new cards work together pretty tightly. Even just a few minutes of thinking about it gives me a dozen ideas of how to put things together.”

“I don’t need a dozen ways,” I said, clenching my fists. “I need one, and I need it to win this next match.”

“Easy,” he said, waving me back. “I’m not trying to spin your head; I just want to show you that these cards can preserve the one trick you’ve been using – a very good trick, I admit – and add a bunch of other options for you to face down a wider range of decks than before. We can talk about whether you need every last one, that’s fine, but you shouldn’t be thinking about sticking with the three cards you know and leaving the rest for later. You’ll lose.”

I realized I was gnawing on my lip and stopped. I’d had that exact thought no less than a dozen times this morning. I wasn’t going to say it out loud, but he was right: I was scared, and the thought of sticking with the familiar was persuasive.

“Show me your hand again,” he instructed.

I pulled the cards one by one, filling my hand in moments, and spread them wide between both hands. My maximum of 10 left one of my Ghastly Gremlins still in my Mind Home, but he’d seen it before, and I had two others sitting in view.

“With Nether, you’ll go first in nearly every situation,” he mused. He tapped the Talisman of Spite. “That means that even though you’d like to get this out turn 1 so it can activate as soon as possible, you’ll probably never be able to.”

“So, honestly, your Hammer turn 1 and the Sucking Void turn 2 is still probably your most effective opener. Old faithful.”

“Then you could pop your Talisman turn 3 as your first source finally recovers and you lay down a fresh one. Hmm. We’ll have to practice to make sure that damage nullified by the Sucking Void still counts towards the Talisman’s activation total. They fit together so tightly that I suspect it will, but if not, you’ll want to hold off on the Talisman ‘til later. We’ll see.”

I listened as fiercely as I knew how, sucking the information in. I had questions, but I didn’t dare interrupt yet.

He continued. “Of course, you’re not always going to get the cards you want in your opening hand. Fortune’s little tricks, you know? But you’re going to need to learn to mulligan. With only 10 or 11 cards total, your chances of getting what you need are still quite good even if you don’t get them on first draw. You want the Hammer and the Void. Draw 4 cards from Summons and only one from Source for your opener, is what I would recommend, and trade out all 4 if you need to. If you still don’t get the combo, then a good alternative opener is a turn 1 Root Imp. You let the damage it deals you summon one of your Ghastlies, and then devote both. Hitting for 5 turn one puts your opponent firmly on the back foot and thins their hand nicely.”

I nodded. I’d thought about that combo; it was straightforward and powerful, especially in the early game. Still, it was nice to hear someone with some experience confirm my vaguely-formed idea.

“Let’s go back to the main strategy, though. If you’re able to get the Void out turn 2 and the Talisman turn 3, then you want to pile on the damage to yourself as quick as possible, because your opponent will stop attacking you if they’ve got half a brain. So turn 4 is either the Root Imp - Ghastly Gremlin combo – or even better, one of those Marauder beauties.”

He sighed, looking at one of them. “So cheap. So powerful. So entirely not worth including in any deck that can’t ignore damage like yours does. 3 self-damage per turn is insane.”

I remembered this one tearing me from neck to groin just the night before and shifted uncomfortably. I’d use them and I’d appreciate how powerful they were, but I didn’t think I’d ever feel entirely at ease around these demons.

He tallied up numbers on his fingers. “If you’re drawing 4 in the open and 2 more from Summons for turn 1, then you’ll need to draw 1 Summons card and 1 source each turn so you can keep laying Nether each turn. If you’re running all 11 cards you have in your Mind Home right now and you lay the Sucking Void on turn 2, then… 7, 8, 9… you’ll end up discarding your bottom 2 cards because of the deck destruction effect.”

I waited for half a beat to make sure he wasn’t going to say something else before I broke in. “So I shouldn’t be playing them all.”

He waffled a hand. “Maybe. Leaving the Healing Potion out hurts if you do manage to get your Sucking Void out turn 2 without taking damage, because then you give up on doubling down on your best effect…”

“...but most folks will find a way to hit you for at least 1 or 2 that first turn, and then all you’re getting back is a Ghastly, most likely. They make great damage blockers in hand even if you end up wasting them to the Expire effect on the opponent’s turn. I mean, there’s also an argument to be made for keeping the Potion in regardless – no matter what card you get back, it’s one more card to play or block damage with. Reasons against, reasons for… it’s a bit of a wash.”

I fought the urge to shake my head like a dog doused in water. His branching logic was getting hard to keep in order. I gritted my teeth and focused harder.

He tapped the one remaining undiscussed card in my hand. “This is the only other one I’d consider leaving out.”

“Armor 2 is insanely useful against just about anybody, and the self-damage can help you activate the Talisman, but it’s not worth trading out for any of your other early plays like the Talisman or the Marauder, so you’re looking more at late-game usage. By then your Sucking Void will have expired, and you risk discarding cards you don’t want to unless your Talisman is up and running.” He shook his head. “I’m almost talking myself out of removing it. It’s a fantastic card.”

I blinked. “So should I take it out or not?”

“Hrm.” He chewed on his lip, thinking. “Let’s have you run through your first few turns a handful of times and see how it plays out. You need to get comfortable summoning your new cards as much as anything else. Then we can decide. Come on, let’s take it from the top. Dismiss those cards and draw like you’re starting a match.”

I let my cards drop into nothing and faced the training dummy, feeling tingles of excitement in my fingertips. It wasn’t a real match, but still: here I was learning gamecraft from a kid I’d hired, drawing incredible cards out of my Mind Home. The me from two days before wouldn’t have believed it. I pulled 1 Source from my soul and 4 Summons cards from my Mind Home. The cards were… not exactly what I hoped for.

The hustler peeked over my shoulder. “Oof. Not great. Well, that’s how it goes sometimes. I’d redraw all 4.”

I frowned at him. “Shouldn’t I keep 1 of the Ghastlies? You said that’s a good alternate turn 1.”

“I did,” he said, scratching his chin. “But never make your backup plan your primary plan when you’ve still got a good chance of putting the primary into action. Think about it: those 4 go to the bottom of your deck – you get to choose what order they’re in by what order you let go first, don’t forget that – and if you draw 4 more you’ve filtered through 8 out of 11 cards. You draw 2 more turn 1, and now you’ve seen all but 1 of your cards. That’s damn good odds of getting the desirable combo. To be honest, it’s worse when you get part of your combo and have to go fishing for the rest, because you’re cycling through fewer cards. So don’t be shy about mulliganing hard.”

I let go of my cards one at a time, starting with the Marauder and the Plate. His point of getting to order your later draws by mulliganing strategically was exactly the kind of thing I’d have never thought of, and those two would be better mid-game draws. By the time they came around I’d have plenty of Nether to summon them with, and hopefully that was the stage of the game for getting a heavy hitter and sealing the deal. My next draw was much more interesting.

“Okay,” he said, peeking. “You’d have rather gotten the Sucking Void than the Marauder, but this isn’t bad, and you still have 2 more cards to draw at the start of your turn. The important thing is that you’ve got your turn 1 drop in hand. Missing a good turn 1 is death for an aggro deck like yours. Not to mention that so long as you get your Sucking Void by turn 2, you have the chance of using the Potion to get it back.”

He gestured to the training dummy. “All right, so let’s say we’re starting the match. You both reveal your starting Source to determine who goes first…”

He waved at me irritably, and I threw my one Nether overhead, watching the purple, spiked sphere orbit my head. The color shimmered and pulsed, and I could feel the rage waiting inside it.

“Let’s say your opponent lays out, uh, Order. That’s the most likely. You go first. Draw your cards. Remember, you want 2 from the Mind Home this time; no point in wasting hand space on Source you can’t play this turn.”

I nodded and drew.

“Two Epics in a single draw, you son of a bitch,” the hustler said ruefully. “I’ll never get over your luck.”

I didn’t mention that I’d stolen one of them and the other one had earned me the lifelong hate of the Crown Prince, who also happened to be my half-brother who I was strongly considering killing alongside our father. That would divert our training session for sure, and I’d paid him a ridiculous amount of money for every minute of help I could get. Basil, you asshole. Why weren’t you in the Mess Hall?

“You’re set up for your early rounds!” the hustler said, clapping his hands. “Go on, play your turn 1. Go nuts, the dummy can take it.”

Grinning, I devoted my Nether and summoned the Hateful Hammer.

It settled into one hand with a reassuring weight, and I sprang forward, swinging for the strange-looking dummy. I wanted to knock its head clean off. I could feel the magical hammer shifting in my hand, finding the perfect angle to ensure it dealt its unavoidable damage.

The dummy’s head exploded in a shower of dust and leather, which I found very satisfying. When I turned back to survey the damage I’d done, though, I saw the padding and cloth stitching itself back together. A second later it looked exactly as it had before my hit.

“Hey,” I grunted, dissatisfied.

My temporary tutor barked a laugh. “You could hit a training dummy with every Spell and Soul under the sun and not leave a scratch. You have to have some kind of destruction effect to get rid of them, and I’m pretty sure if we used one that bastard would pull his nose out of his book and kick us out.”

I nodded. It made sense; we were here to train. Still, I wanted to break the thing down to pieces and leave it ruined. Even without my Nether I just liked destroying things.

“Now your opponent would hit back,” the hustler warned me. “There’s always a chance they have a bad opening hand, especially if they’ve got a deck of 20 or more, but don’t bet on it. They might be able to hit you for 1 or 2 if they have their own weapon or a Soul they’re willing to devote turn 1. You can hope for a slower deck or a conservative player, but again… expect to take a hit. With what you’ve got, I’d recommend dropping the Imp if it’s 1 and the Marauder if it’s 2.”

I opened my mouth to object, but he held up a hand.

“I know, you hate to lose a heavy hitter, but you’ve got the Potion and could get it back if you had to.”

“But then I don’t get my Sucking Void back.”

“True. But if I had to guess, I’d say you’ll only manage to double-dip on your Void maybe a third of the time. You can’t manage perfect plays every time when the other guy’s trying to kill you.”

I shook my head, frustrated. “I need a real opponent.”

He looked around. “I don’t see any volunteers.”

I gripped my Hammer tighter. “I’m paying you two crowns, asshole.”

He laughed in my face. “You’d have to pay me ten to get me to step in front of those Demons. No, twenty.” He twirled a finger over our heads. “We don’t have a Dueling Dome, dipshit, and card damage is Fated. You either block it with cards or with blood. I’m not risking my life for two measly crowns.”

I wanted to argue the point, but he was right. If I was him, I wouldn’t have done it either.

“So go on,” he said, pointing to the dummy. “Turn 2. Either you’ve taken a little damage or you’re going to the very next turn. What’s the play?”

I nodded and focused back in on the job at hand. I knew what to do now. I’d done it every single time so far. I drew a Nether and a card.

I now had my Imp-Gremlin combo in hand, but I knew he’d tell me to save it until I had my Talisman in play. Devoting the new Nether, I summoned my trusty Spell.

The starlight covering snugged around me like a blanket of safety. The first few times I’d used it I’d felt stifled, like I couldn’t breathe, but now my body knew what it did. That snugness meant safety. I jumped in again and whacked at the dummy. It wasn’t any more satisfying the second time than it had been the first.

“Now you can expect your opponent to summon something bigger. It could be a heal, but more likely it’ll be a decent-sized Soul they can block with. It won’t be able to hurt you, but for turn 3 you’ll have to decide whether to summon your Talisman or your Potion. If you do the Potion you’ll have a Nether you can power up your swing with so you can hit for 3, which could be handy if their blocker has 3 health or more. Depends on whether you have anything in discard underneath your Sucking Void. If not, then you should absolutely summon the Potion and get it back for turn 4. If the Potion is going to bring back a Demon, though, it can wait and you should get the Talisman in play to start accumulating damage. Like I said, that’s the most likely scenario.”

He nodded decisively. “Let’s say you lost the Root Imp on turn 1 this time. Play the Talisman.”

I wanted to argue, but I wanted to summon the new card even more. I pulled another Nether into my hand and a card as well. It was the Marauder I’d mulliganed in my opening hand. Devoting the new Nether and the one that had just come back to ready from turn 1, I channeled my Source into the card, watching it shimmer into nothing and then appear as a plate-sized medallion hanging around my neck.

“Perfect,” the hustler said, and then I felt a sharp pressure in my back. The Sucking Void’s starlight armor stopped it entirely, but it made the wound in my back twinge painfully. I whirled around, and a blank-faced Soul stood behind me, short sword in hand.

I rounded on the hustler, who had a spent Order hovering overhead and a smug grin on his face. Fury flooded me, and I raised my Hammer.

“What’s the idea?” I roared.

He laughed. “Oh, relax. I wanted to test my theory.”

I couldn’t have cared less about his theory. He’d stabbed me in the back, and when that had happened just last night, I hadn’t been able to hit back. Not this time. I swung my Hammer at his face.

I saw his look of shock right before the Hammer covered it. The glowing metal slammed into him, drawing a grunt and leaving the shreds of two cards fluttering down. I rebounded hard, just as I always did when cards took the damage.

The hustler’s shock quickly turned to anger. “What’s wrong with you? I’m helping you!”

I drew myself upright, Hammer still clenched tightly in one fist. “Summoning a Soul to stab me is a shitty kind of help.”

With a waved hand, he dismissed the Guard. “Look at your Talisman, you knob. Look!”

I held my glare on him for a moment longer just so he’d know he couldn’t order me around, and then I glanced down. The tip of one of the horns surrounding the central face glowed a dull purple.

“I wanted to see if damage taken while your Sucking Void is running still works to activate the Talisman. It does! I show you the best gods-damned synergy in your whole deck and you bash me in the face for it. Twins, I should have asked for hazard pay.”

He was right, but the rage didn’t care. “You tell me before you do something like that.”

He threw up his hands. “It was a joke! You’re literally covered in an unbreakable protection. What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know you!” I yelled. “I don’t even know your name. You don’t play jokes like that on someone who just paid you a shit load of money for help.”

“Fine!” he yelled back. “The point is, you’ve got an insane pair of cards that will absorb whatever damage you take even when you’re not really taking it, and you’d have never have figured it out on your own. You’re welcome.”

I walked to the far side of the arena, taking another pointless swing at the dummy as I passed. He was right. I should be thanking him. But a lifetime on the streets didn’t just go away because he didn’t know about it. I’d wanted to summon my Marauder and have it rip his arms off. The Hammer in his face had been me restraining myself.

I took a few breaths and cast my eyes around the room. There, lounging by the entrance, stood Losum, the Prince’s friend who had helped him cheat during the Flinch Test. He saw me looking and gave me a cool smile.

The hustler walked up behind me. “He’ll be telling the Prince everything he sees.”

I nodded curtly. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence. “I should have told you what I was doing.”

It was a peace offering. I didn’t want to take it, but this was a different world than the one I was used to. People here helped each other, even the assholes who made you pay for the privilege. I took one more steadying breath. “And I overreacted. So, uh… sorry. I guess.” The words felt like coals in my mouth.

He snorted. “Such sincerity. Come on, let’s keep working.”

I jerked a chin at the Prince’s spy. “What about him?”

He shook his head. “Chase him off and the Prince’ll just send someone else or bribe the training dummy guy. Gathering information about your opponents’ decks is part of the game in Tournaments like these. Let it go. You’ve only got so much time before your match starts.”

I turned back to him. The rage had passed, and it was easier to open my mouth this time. “Thank you for helping me. I know you didn’t have to.”

He shrugged and gave me his roguish grin. “What can I say? I like getting paid. And my name is Morgane, by the way.” He stuck out a hand.

I steeled myself and shook it. “All right. I think I missed my last turn of protection. What’s next?”

He tilted his head toward the training dummy. “Let’s find out.”