Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Help this ill-mannered urchin? Ridiculous. Preposterous. I couldn’t believe he had the gall to ask after how callously he had treated me during our previous interaction.

“I don’t make the same mistake twice,” I told him coldly. I lacked experience when it came to being mean or forceful in conversation, but that was certainly my aim now. “Be on your way, Hull. You’ll find no assistance here.” Then, in the same manner my brothers often did when they deemed a conversation at an end, I put my attention wholly on something else, busying myself with collecting the cards on the table and tucking them back behind my right ear.

I didn’t see his reaction to my dismissal, but I did see Esmi’s: she frowned deeply, and when she spoke, her tone was admonishing.

“Basil, is that anyway to treat a guest, let alone one in need? When we’re married and holding events, I expect you to be a better host than that.”

“You two?” the urchin said.

Despite my plan, I glanced at Hull and caught him shaking his shaggy head at the idea of Esmi and me as a pair. The last thing I would stand for was this dirty oaf insulting me further, but I was also a bit lost in how Esmi had just spoken of us being married and couldn’t manage to come up with a cutting retort. I turned to her instead. She was the one I needed to convince, after all, not this lout.

“Esmi, he threatened me. Spat at me.”

“At you?” she asked, her brow wrinkling.

“Yes, well, I was quick enough to move out of the way. If I hadn’t been…” I left the rest unsaid, not wanting her to have to imagine the sordid details.

However, instead of appearing concerned about the integrity of my attire, she looked like I had just given her a spot of cheery news. “No real harm done then,” she declared, turning back to Hull. “How can Basil help?”

He looked uncertainly between us, and I spotted our waiter hovering a bit behind him. I met her eyes, lifting my arm to flag her to have the dirty boy removed – an establishment this fine must have some sort of guards. Esmi’s next words, however, pulled me up short.

“Where are my manners?” she said to Hull. “I’m Esmi, Basil’s fiancee. Please, join us first and then tell us why you’ve come.”

And to my great shock and annoyance, the street boy entered the tent and scooted in beside her. I had heard Charbonders were more lax about such things, and Esmi must have developed some of those habits during her time there, but it was more than my Ordered sensibilities could take.

“Esmi,” I said, pitching my voice low, “should we be inviting strangers to dine with us? Particularly those that…” – despite everything, I didn’t want to come across as crass – “do not appear prepared for such an outing, either in their dress or cleanliness?”

“Is he a stranger?” she asked, guilelessly, not bothering to whisper. “He seems to know you.”

“We dueled in the first round,” Hull said by way of explanation. He didn’t sound altogether happy about it, and at this point, I certainly wasn’t either. Why Fate had allowed our paths to cross again I couldn’t fathom, especially not when it had robbed me of the chance to hear my fiancee’s true motivations.

“You’re a competitor,” Esmi said, clapping her hands, completely unaware of my brooding. “How are you enjoying the tournament so far?”

Hull eyed her like she was a card he’d never seen before. “It’s better than a stick in the eye, I guess. Lost to him,” he said, jerking his head in my direction, “but then won my next.”

A very small part of me was actually happy to hear that news; I had told him he could win, after all.

“Congratulations!” Esmi told him and then smiled mischievously between us. “Are you here to declare revenge against Basil? To tell him that you’ll fight your way through the Losers’ Bracket until you can face him again?”

Esmi seemed oddly taken with the idea, and now that it had been mentioned, I too found myself wondering if that’s why he had sought me out. He’d have some nerve if so, after I gave his card back.

“No,” Hull said. Then, without any invitation, he filled his fist full of shaved meats from the charcuterie board and shoved them into his mouth all at once. “I won a card,” he said, actually speaking while chewing. I sat back, flabbergasted by the behavior, wishing I could unhear the ghastly noises he was making. “And I need to trade it.” He took a big swallow and made a face; I thought he might be choking on the amount of food he had just shoved down his gullet.

“Couldn’t find them?” Esmi asked, obviously taking his pained reaction to have a different cause. “A number of them are on this floor, just outside the free eateries and below the dorms.”

“I found ‘em just fine,” Hull said darky, “but they’re talking garbage. Tokens this, aggro that.” He reached across the table again, greedily taking another grip full of food. Like before, he made no effort to separate out the various items or flavors, cramming it all into his mouth like it was a race.

Esmi seemed not to notice his appalling conduct, giving me a knowing side-look. “I hear that Basil is quite skilled at negotiating card trades. That’s how he made a large part of the deck he’s using at this tournament.”

Hull swallowed with a lack of chewing I found disturbing. “Really?” he said, spearing me with his hooded eyes. “A kid as rich as you, they don’t just hand you a deck ready-made when you burst out of your mom?”

I bristled. “They most certainly did not.”

Esmi beamed. “Wonderful. Basil, you can put your expertise to good use while looking for some good trades yourself, hmm?”

“I…what?” I turned to Esmi, having seen the noose tighten all too late.

She looked at me kindly. “‘Care for each Soul in the world around you just as carefully as you would those in your Mind Home. If you have gifts, share them. If you have talents, teach them.’”

Her words tickled a memory as dusty as the books I had been reading from at the time, and I realized she was quoting scripture. “I didn’t know you were a Rapturist,” I said. They were a sect of worshippers who believed that the world we lived in was also a Mind Home: one belonging to the Twins. It wasn’t a particularly popular faith here in Treledyne, but perhaps Charbond differed in that regard, too.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Esmi said, her expression turning warmer. Then she scooted my way, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Heat seeming to roll off of her in a wave. “I’ll leave you two boys to your shopping, but I’ll see you tonight for the Soiree, won’t I?”

“I…um, yes, you shall,” I said, any counterarguments I might have made dying on my lips. I happened to look past her wavy brown hair and saw Hull staring at us. He seemed bored, but the fact that someone was watching my fiancee and me be so close I found decidedly uncomfortable.

“Can you move?” Esmi said, her breath tickling my ear.

“Oh, of course,” I said, scrambling around the seat and out of the tent, feeling like an utter fool yet again – I was beginning to lose count how many times that had happened to me today. Boxed in as Esmi had been, the only way she could leave was for one of us to move. At least she’d asked me and not the urchin.

When she reached the end of the curved seat, I offered her my hand to help her the rest of the way out, and she honored me by taking it. Her fingers were just as warm as the last time we had touched, I couldn’t help but say to her, “Holding you is like touching the sun.”

Esmi beamed at me, and I swear my heart didn’t beat again until she spoke.

“Happy hunting to you both.”

“Esmi?” I called before she had gotten far. She turned back, looking radiant, and my resolve wavered. I didn’t want to mention something that would ruin the moment we had just shared, but I also itched to know. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what is that Charbonder fellow’s name?”

“Plutar,” Esmi said and then, quieter, “He’s been winning.” Her delivery of the news shook me, and not even her subsequent smile could put me all the way back to right. “Think on what we discussed while you’re bartering, won’t you? We can talk more about him tonight if you like.”

She left then, and I didn’t call her back a second time. I could have departed, too, but standing in front of a bracket list to measure the truth of her words wasn’t going to help me, whereas talking to her this evening would. When we did, she was sure to ask how things had gone with Hull, and after not using the fabricator she gifted me and then hearing her less-than-favorable thoughts about my deck, I didn’t want to disappoint her again.

So I sat back down and faced the unpleasant task that had somehow found its way to me. I had the time available at least – having already won twice, I didn’t compete again until tomorrow – and making some trades was probably preferable to obsessing in my Coliseum room alone until the Soiree.

“Sure you’re not married already?” Hull said. “She runs you like a Common.”

The front end of a disbelieving laugh puffed out of my mouth, more cough than humor. The nerve of this urchin. “Should you really be pointing that out when you’re the one who benefits from it?”

He paused in drinking from a wine glass, Esmi’s glass I realized. “Suppose not.”

“Twins be praised, he can be reasoned with.” Before he could fire back some other nastiness, I said, “Let’s get to business, shall we? Any good trade comes from knowing your deck and its needs. With two cards, that task should be straightforward. It’s just your Void Spell, and your Hammer, correct?”

He got a sly look, the closest I’d seen him to being happy. I didn’t trust it in the slightest, and I gripped the edge of the table with both hands, leaning back.

“What?”

“I upgraded it.”

I hesitated. My match had taken some time, and Esmi, Warrick, and I had been in this restaurant a bit. It was possible that he’d had the opportunity to do as he claimed. “Show me.”

Unlike when Esmi had made the same request of me, he called some cards into his hand from his Mind Home, which would get the job done because he had so few. He took one of the two that had appeared from thin air and held it out to me, which I had to lean it to see clearly. The dirt under his fingernails was distracting, but the change in the card demanded my attention.

The additional damage was good, but Strong? If he had possessed this version of the Relic when we dueled, I would have found it considerably harder to defeat him since so few of my Souls would have been able to block him in combat. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could have won, which was surreal to think considering I had ten times as many cards in my Summon deck as he did. Many duelists, Tipfin included, often touted card quality over quantity, but this was ridiculous.

I did look at Hull’s dirty fingernails then, his mussed hair that I doubted had ever seen a comb, the grime on his skin, and the sack of a shirt he was wearing. An Epic and now a Rare? There were people who would do terrible things in order to enrich themselves, and I was beginning to think I was sitting across from one of them.

“I didn’t steal it,” he said, shaking the card at me before letting it vanish along with the other one he was holding.

“I didn’t say you did,” I replied carefully.

“No, but you were thinking it. I’ve seen that face a hundred times. More probably. That Hammer? I traded a Rare at a shop near the Hills District for it.”

“I distinctly remember that Hammer being an Uncommon when we fought. If you traded a Rare, you didn’t get a very good deal for it.”

“No,” he growled, looking like he wanted to throttle someone, as he often did. “I didn’t. But here I got the deal I needed to make an upgrade. Don’t believe me? Ask a Tender named Penkmun or a Relicsmith named Brask, who works over that way,” – he gestured to the left. “They’ll tell you true.”

I sat there for a moment thinking on his claims. They sounded plausible, believable even. “And your Epic?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

If he’d been a dog I could have seen his hackles rise. “You know anyone else in this city with Nether? Makes sense for me to have it, right?”

That argument was much less specific or persuasive than his first. I wasn’t familiar with the people he had named, but if I encountered either, I’d certainly ask them for more information. For now though…my twenty cards were back in my Mind Home protecting me, and I needed to make a trade anyway. He could tag along and if he made trouble, I would call for the Coliseum's guards.

“What do you have for trade?” I asked.

This time he took a card from his pocket and held it out, gripping the edges with both hands as if he was worried that I would steal it from him.

It wasn’t anything special, but it was Uncommon at least. “And your affinities? Nether and Order?” Even with his lack of cards, an Order Protection spell could serve him well, or perhaps just a high Source-cost card he could keep in hand for blocking when his Sucking Void wasn’t granting him immunity.

He quickly took the Troglodyte Tracker away while shaking his head. “Just Nether.” There was a challenge in his voice, as if he wanted me to comment on the oddity so he could lash out.

“That…is a surprise.”

He just shrugged, losing none of his tension. Then he pulled the marble charcuterie board over to his side and began picking at the remnants.

“I don’t think you’re going to find any Nether cards at the standard stalls,” I said, resisting the urge to fix the tablecloth he had just bunched by pulling on the heavy slab. “Even if you did, they’re so hard to come by that you’d likely pay twice or even thrice the cost of an equivalent card. The best thing for you will be a Relic.”

He just shrugged again, noncommittally, as if after asking for my help, the burden of choice was now solely upon me.

The clear note of a bell rang through the hall we were dining in, and I could see patrons at other tables turn at the sound, as well as people walking in the middle lane pause briefly. Two more rings followed it, signaling the end of lunch and a quarter of an hour until the last Loser’s matches of the day began.

“Let’s go,” I said, glad to be leaving before he started licking the board.

Hull made a face, but scooted around and out of the tent. Then he reached back over the table, taking the half finished wine bottle with him. I opened my mouth to argue, but just as quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. I did however follow after him with haste, as I didn’t want him to try and pilfer anything else on the way out of the establishment.

Seeing us go, the waitress hurried up to me, and before I could ask her how much we owed, she told me that Esmi had already paid our bill. That put a warm smile on my face as I set off, Hull following in my wake.

Throice had said his family’s shop was in the Grand Hall, so that’s where I took us – Hull could find something there, I was reasonably sure. The Grand Hall was only a bit further into this level, a place for competitors to eat for free and for card dealers to entice them with their wares. The arched entryway doors we walked through were large and the steeply angled ceiling went up as high as the nosebleed seats did. Turning to the right to reach the west corner that Throice had specified, I happened to walk past an updated bracket list, and couldn’t help but look at my portion of the Winner’s side.

When Esmi had told me my rival’s name and that he had been winning, I knew what I would find, but still, my gut twisted at the sight of it. Losum was a skilled opponent, with a Mythic in his deck, and Plutar had bested him. What did that mean about the Charbonder’s deck? He must have something equally strong, perhaps a Mythic Fire Spell.

“Fferun?”

I nearly jumped, having forgotten momentarily that Hull was with me. It didn’t take long to discover what he was referring to. The urchin was looking at the Loser’s portion of the bracket, and there, Match 33, was Hull vs Fferun, the 16th seed in the competition.

“That’s an Elf name,” I said, setting off again.

This time Hull walked quickly enough to be beside me instead of behind. “How you know that?” he asked, doubtfully.

“The double consonants,” I explained. Talking about his future opponent was much easier than thinking about my own. “And I recognize it. He’s the new ambassador in the King’s court. Young. He’ll be using a Life Deck, for certain.”

“What are those like?” I could tell from the extra lines his brow was making that Hull was worried, though he’d likely hit me if I pointed it out.

“He’ll have Elves, of course,” I answered. “Those Souls are more expensive, not a single 1 cost as far as I know. They usually have pay effects which make them versatile, and many will have Dodge.”

“Dodge?” he said, and I saw him fumble with a piece of crumpled parchment he took from his pocket. I was surprised someone like him would be carrying paper, and when I realized it was the basic list of card abilities given to audience members who weren’t familiar with dueling, I almost felt badly for him.

“It lets the Soul avoid damage,” I said, saving him the trouble, “which is normally very useful, but it won’t be very useful against your Overkill. All the damage that was Dodged will go straight onto the summoner.”

He seemed to brighten some at the news, pushing the paper back into the depth of the rags without the same sullen force he tended to use.

Throice’s stall turned out to be very easy to find, because the artisan duelist was pacing in front of it.

“There you are!” he nearly shouted when he spotted me. He walked straight up to the nearby counter of the impressive card shop, motioning for me to join him. Card trading stalls were usually smaller than other businesses since their stock took up so little space. However, this one was near twenty feet wide and at least that deep. The extra space in the back was for not one, but two forges, both burning bright and in use by sweating smiths, going about their craft of turning physical objects into cards. The shop had no name, their sign the simple, yet elegant anvil of the artisans, the same that Fate & Fortune penned in the upper left of every Relic. However, the size of the shop, the smell of burning coals, and the sizzle of soul magic as the smiths used their personal card abilities in their crafting proclaimed this place a cut above the rest.

A woman with brown hair streaked with gray pulled into a bun and glasses on a string around her neck confronted me from her position behind the counter.

“So you’re the one who beat our hope and then left him worrying?” she said, eyeing me critically.

A twinge of guilt thrummed in my heart. I had waited to the very last moment, which was perhaps unkind of me.

“You didn’t watch the duel?” I asked her. I realized that we were in a hurry, but I thought a touch of politeness might not go amiss. Hull was crouched down looking through the glass front of the counter at all the cards propped up on display behind it, so I didn’t need to worry about him for the moment.

“What do you want for the Repair Field Generator?” she said, not bothering to entertain my question. “If you wish to look through our offerings, do it quickly.”

I shook my head; I already knew what I wanted after seeing Throice’s Deck firsthand. I took the Generator from my wrist holder and placed it on the counter between us, keeping a finger upon it.

I had briefly considered pairing it with the Water fabricator to give my mother’s Ice Walls Regeneration, but after speaking with Esmi, I was convinced I should go with my original plan.

“I’m interested in procuring three of your Metal Golems,” I said.

Throice sputtered from where he stood beside me. “Three Uncommons for one? Where did you learn to trade?”

“I would be willing to pay for some of the difference,” I offered, not raising my voice as he had. It had taken me years to learn that staying calm always netted me the best trades, as did keeping some promises general so that I had room to negotiate.

The woman behind the counter crossed her arms. “You’re out of Fortune’s favor then. I only have two left.”

That was one of the downsides of me not coming here right after my match, but I hadn’t expected to succeed in trading for three anyway, not with the small amount of personal spending money I actually possessed.

“I’d be happy with two, then.”

“I’m sure you would be!” Throice huffed.

“That is my offer,” I said to them both. “Do you accept?”

It was clear that Throice was torn between frustration at me and a desire to get to his next match as soon as possible, maybe to make the same speech he had before despite the announcer’s warnings.

“One condition,” the shopkeep said. “You speak with your parents favorably about the vote we’re proposing to become a Ninth House. I have a pamphlet of talking points you can take.”

“Done,” I agreed on the spot. “By Fate and Fortune, I swear it.” The promise took little effort from me, and it helped that I was truly impressed by what these artisans were creating. The Colossal Golem for instance was a marvel.

“Jemil,” the woman said, and a young boy in the shop darted over to her. “Get me the last two Metal Golems.” She looked at me the whole time as she said it, like she was waiting to see if I would try to back out of the agreement, which I wisely did not.

Instead, I picked up the Generator card and handed it to Throice. “Here you are,” I said, hoping the show of good faith would resolve any lingering antagonism they might have over my high asking price. If this family did manage to rise in power, I wanted them as an ally, not an enemy.

He snatched the card out of my hand and quickly tucked it behind his ear, seeming no more pleased than he had been a moment before.

“You should include more Flashbombs in your deck,” I added, trying a different tack. “So you don’t need to take as much damage to your Summon Deck.”

Throice looked at me skeptically.

“Maybe instead of some of your draw effects?” I offered.

“Jemil,” the woman behind the counter said, “bring two Flashbombs, as well.” The young boy had just returned with my cards and whipped around to get the newly requested Relics.

“Mother!” Throice said, turning to her.

“He’s a noble and he won,” she interrupted. “Take them in case and decide before the match.”

Jemil was back by then, and she transferred two cards to Throice first, asking for Fate and Fortune’s blessing as she did. He took the cards, eyed me, and then dashed off. Throice’s mother next laid the pair of Golems on the counter, pushing them forward atop a trifold printed pamphlet with The People’s New Day emblazoned on the front.

Excitement bubbled in me as I picked them up, tucking the paper away. These cards would be perfect.

“Thank you,” I said to her, sliding both into my wrist holder.

Then, I moved over to where Hull still crouched. Just like Throice had to get to his Loser’s side match, so did Hull. The street boy had shifted to a section of cards on the far right, which he couldn’t possibly afford.

At first I thought he was staring at a Rare Relic that could certainly assist with his gameplan.

My mind boggled at the thought of him dealing damage both on his turn and his opponent’s, but then I realized it was an Epic he was salivating over.

The summoning cost of the Blade was quite high, but anything with Lifesap always was. Being able to return three destroyed cards every time he struck, or even more with his Nether source ability, and at Fast Attack speed? Hull would be nearly unkillable with a card like that.

“You don’t have time for daydreams,” I told him. When he didn’t move, I forced myself to grasp and tug his dirty sleeve. “Come on.” I moved back over to the Common and Uncommon Relics, and with a forlorn look at the Blade, he joined me.

They had a good spread of cards, and I immediately saw a few that could help his Deck.

“I should get the Armor one, right?” Hull asked. He didn’t sound particularly excited by the prospect after having looked at the better cards – always a hazard of card shopping.

“Too expensive for your Deck,” I answered, and when he didn’t look like he believed me, I said, “Your advantage is that you can have the same opening hand every time. Anything that slows you getting out your Hammer and Void won’t work for you until you have a much larger and well-rounded deck.”

“What then?”

What indeed? The Shield was the right Source cost to not slow down his gameplan much while protecting him from smaller things it would be a waste to spend his immunity on. Also, like I had told him, Life Souls often had abilities, which the Shield could block. On the other hand, the Helmet would give him a turn of relative safety, just as I had used it, while the Strength Potion could let him finish the match sooner.

“You best hurry your choice if your friend is competing,” Throice’s mother said. She had moved over to join us and had apparently decided that I would be her customer for the remainder of the visit instead of letting one of the other two senior staff assist me.

“Right you are,” I said. “We’ll take a Lesser Healing Potion.”

This time she reached down to get it herself, and as she did, Hull got much closer to me than I would have wished, in no small part because of the reek of his breath.

“Healing Potion?” he said. “What are you on about?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to your match,” I said to him. “Now get off.”

Throice’s mom eyed us as she stood with the card in hand, placing it on the counter.

“We have an Uncommon for trade,” I said, and when Hull didn’t immediately produce the Troglodyte, I motioned with exasperation, “If you miss your match without officially withdrawing, you’ll still have to pay a card to your opponent as ante.”

Glaring daggers at me, Hull put the Uncommon on the counter, opposite the Potion. Throice’s mother put on her glasses to consider it.

“I’ll agree to an even exchange,” she said.

“That’s very kind of you,” I replied. Sellers didn’t always do that when it came to cards they may not specialize in, but perhaps she wanted to give me another reason to speak well of her family.

Hull, however, didn’t appear pleased. He stepped close so he was standing in front of me and even ducked his head down some, revealing flakes of dandruff atop his head.

“I thought you were good at haggling,” he hissed.

“It’s a cut and dry trade for a relatively weak Uncommon on your side,” I whispered back. “There’s nothing to barter.”

He looked like I had just told him to chew dirt and stepped back up the counter. To my utter surprise, he pulled another card from the folds of his clothes.

“What if I throw this in?”

Curious, I moved up so I could see the new card.

“I’m sorry,” Throice’s mother said, pushing it back to him. “But we don’t deal in that sort of thing.”

I could see why. Now that was a bara card if I ever saw one.

“Fine,” Hull growled. He took the new Uncommon back with one hand, and with his other, he dropped the wine bottle atop the counter so hard I cringed. “What about this? Everyone likes to drink, and this is some fancy shit.”

The shopkeep paused, expressionless, before repeating, “The Lesser Healing Potion in even trade for the Troglodyte Tracker.”

“We’ll take it,” I said, before Hull could embarrass me further by trying to sell her the rags off his back. For his part, the urchin sulked and took a pull from the bottle he’d just tried to sell.

Throice’s mother seemed as eager to finish the exchange as I was, and it was only a few moments before Hull and I were on our way, walking with a stream of people out of the Grand Hall. We had spent longer trading than I had planned, and after all of that, I wasn’t about to have Hull lose because he was tardy. As much as I hated to make a display, I started jogging toward the exit.

It wasn’t long before Hull was beside me, arms and feet pumping to match my pace; he wasn’t carrying the bottle anymore, and I silently prayed to Fortune that he hadn’t just left it on the shop counter. Though I supposed that meant he’d just left it sitting on the floor somewhere. Disgusting.

“Trying to get away after tricking me into a bad trade?” he asked dangerously, sounding like he was about to take a swing at me.

“Trying to make sure you don’t forfeit your next match.”

“Which I’ll lose because some idiot bought me a Healing Potion when what I need is protection.”

“A Healing Potion is protection,” I countered.

“My ass it is. Fate curse me and Fortune fleece me, I don’t know why I trusted a weak willed, hobnobbing, noble whelp of a whor –”

“Will you be quiet?” I snapped, stopping in the hall. It surprised me, him, and all of those around us with how loudly I had just spoken. I immediately broke back into a run, and to my partial relief, it wasn’t long before anyone in front of whom I had embarrassed myself was soon well behind us. “Just listen,” I told Hull after collecting myself, our feet never slowing. “I have a plan, and it’s going to work.”