Fables of the Table

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      I want to hear of your exploits around the table. Master strategies, cold betrayals, Irish luck, regular luck, close calls, landslide victories! Pass on the tales of your exploits for the next generation.

      I hosted a game of Legendary Encounters: Predator; a deck-building card game that lets up to 5 soldiers try to survive the events of the first 2 Predator movies.

      From our very first Predator 1 objective of trying to clear out the militia camp, we had absolutely rotten luck. A stray militant landed a dying blow onto our Hunter that wounded him quite badly. How badly? Badly enough that if he were to succumb to his wounds and die, he would take us all with him in a fiery explosion. We never quite worked out how a fodder-level enemy thrust this upon us protagonists.

      If that wasn’t bad enough, we were suffering major setbacks in trying to clear out the camp. For too long we fought the camp, while trying to protect our Hunter from turning us all into pairs of smoking boots. So long in fact that the Predator had emerged from the jungle just to start taking potshots at us to stop us from claiming the long-emptied camp. But, after all narrowly avoiding death, we finally completed our first objective.

      Thankfully, we were able to set up a defensive position in the Hills without any sacrifices, but our Hunter was still dangerously close to wiping us all from the history books. And then it happened. We were suddenly under heavy attack from the Predator, who was lined up to take somebody out, despite our ad-hoc coordination and teamwork. So we made a sacrifice–I made a sacrifice. I managed to find myself in the position we’d all been waiting for: the chance to patch the Hunter up enough so that he doesn’t explode when his heart stops. It cost me my life, but the rest of the party fought on without the burden of an instant wipe hanging over them.

      And then it happened. The Predator had become bored of toying with us. It raced towards us as we desperately tried to gather the firepower to protect ourselves from the raging beast. We just couldn’t make contact. But what’s that we see in the distance? Salvation! The chopper was standing by for evac! One by one the remnants of our team tried to break away and race for the chopper. Or die trying. In fact, out of the remaining 4 soldiers that were still standing (albeit hunched over and wheezing) when the Predator descended to finish things, only the CIA agent made it back alive. The Predator had managed to intercept the remaining 3, with the Hunter ironically being the last person to be slain by the Predator. The Predator that now calls the Val Verde home.

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