Title: Horrors! 14 - The Cards Speak Author: Mr_Sympathy Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/yenhT4RY First Edit: Wednesday 9th of September 2015 03:21:07 AM CDT Last Edit: Last edit on: Wednesday 9th of September 2015 03:22:30 AM CDT The Cards Speak by Brian Craig     Printing destroyed the art of cartomancy. Once it became possible to duplicate decks of cards, all the real virtue went out of them. The virtue that a deck of cards had was in design and decoration. A deck of cards that was efficient in divination had to have the power painted into it. All art was alchemy in those days; the standardization of pigments and their suspension media killed the magic of the process just as surely as printing killed the virtue of the cards. Cards were always dual-purpose, of course. The same cards that were used for divination were used to play gambling games, and the power that the cards had to offer tantalizing glimpses of the future was the same power that determined who would win and who would lose. Yes, of course it's all a matter of statisical probabilities *now*- but even todays games haven't entirely lost the subtle alchemy of the bluff or the aesthetic wonder of flushes and full houses coming together. That's the very essence of the aesthetic experience you know, underlying all else: the fall of the court cards, the fusing of magical combinations, the tragic disruption of a hand of hearts by the spade or the club - the sword or the wand, as it used to be. But what is it all leading up to? Well, Mr. Gambler-with-a-Calculator, what it's leading up to is this - I dare you to play a hand with me using a REAL deck of cards. Not a Waddington's Number One, or some tobacco company's advertising gimmick, not something cut from cardboard and plastic coated, but a work of art. I have one in the safe which I only take out for special occasions. What stakes? Well, that's another difference between then and now. Nowadays, wealth is a disposable thing, all wrapped up in symbols: coins, banknotes, share certificates. In the old days, men had to bet with the raw substance of their existence: their livestock, their wives ... their souls. No, *of course* I'm not the Devil - but there's no law to say only the Devil can play for souls. Yes, you can deal - the magic is in the cards, not the dealer - but you must shuffle very carefully, because that stiffened silk is very delicate. There's no reason at all why we shouldn't play Poker - yes it was unknown during the age of enlightenment, when men preferred Whist and Bezique, but it didn't have to be invented; it only had to resurface. Your queen bets. That's a good card. If this were divination, it would promise you a rewarding love life - but this is competition. It's still your queen to bet. My seven nine would be significant, if this were divination, all the more so because they're both swords-and that ten you've just given me would add to their cutting edge. Yes, I understand how astonishingly unlikely it would be to fill a running flush on a five-card deal, even if I had one in the hole - or a perfectly ordinary run or flush - but this is a *real* deck of cards, not the kind that you're used to, so I'm going to call your pair of queens and raise. Yes, we have rather exhausted the symbolism of the chips, but that's the kind of game this is. You can fold if you like and leave the mere money behind. You're under no compulsion to throw your life into the pot - but that's what'll cost to stay in. Now, that IS disappointing. A mere six, and a six of cups at that. Now the very best I can have is a run - always provided I've an eight in the hole. On the other hand, the best you can possibly have is three queens, and you'd need a black queen in the hole to make that. I've never liked the black queens - they're treacherous allies at the best of times, and she wouldn't really improve your hand if you were hugging her to your bosom, becuase if I *don't* have a run, you'll win anyway. Check, you say? I'll bet whatever it takes to match your soul. You name it. Now it's up to you: fold or call. That's been my advantage all along: you don't believe in magic. If you did, you'd that have thought long and hard about the significance of that knave. No, *of course* I'm not the Devil. I just have a few IOUs to work off. How do you think I got this job in the first place?