Cheating is an Illusion – an article from Northpoint Weekly

[This is an article originally presented in an edition of Northpoint Weekly, dated from somewhere in the month of Frostfall, 3E 396. Authorization of reproduction and reprinting : courtesy of the City Archives of Northpoint.]

Winter comes in the city of Northpoint, and gods know how cold the season is in our North Jewel of Bretony. As winter comes, the harsher times have a pleasant side effect : the good people of Northpoint retreat inside the walls, come near the fireplace, and it is in those times that we people bond the most. As in many parts of High Rock, probably even more than elsewhere, a large part of this bonding is made, apart from shared dances and feasts, by gathering family and friends around a solid old oak table ; and playing games.

Games are one of our most important social traditions in Northpoint, and as you certainly know, it is universally respected and practised, from the slums near the harbors to the vast rooms of the castle. A Goose's End, Julianos' Seven Trials, The Maid and the Fox, chess, board games, card games, you name it. But such games are not only reserved to relatives and acquaintances, as gaming is to be taken seriously, and the taste for the art of playing and winning has drawn many citizens over the centuries to take part in more competitive meetings.

The game tables of Northpoint have precise rules : cheating is very much frowned upon, much more than in your standard Tamrielic tavern. It is a matter of honour, word and, dare I say ? chivalrous spirit. But this week, we investigated the threat rising against this state of mind.

Indeed, with the new flow of people seeking refuge in the city these days, mainly due to the economic attractiveness of the brand new East Empire Company trading post, a lot of new players want to take part in the cycles of tournaments and gaming jousts marking the entry in winter. Curiously, they are not menacing to transform, by their sheer presence, the game tables of our city in your classical "cheat while you can" taverns : in the contrary, they are skilled players, bringing their minds from everywhere in Tamriel, and seemingly ready to adhere to the rules and traditions of gaming in Northpoint.

This is where, alerted by some of our faithful readers, we observed a new phenomenon. To counteract this flow of skilled game-jousters, some of our fellow citizens seem to resort, to say the least, to desperate attempts to stay at their best level. « I'm a pretty skilled magic user », confides an anonymous Mages guild member, « and I am sure of what I witnessed no less than eight times this month in various gaming places : some fellow Breton folks discreetly casting Illusion spells to influence the run of a game ! »

With such revelations in mind, our team of writers, counting several expert players and/or mages in its ranks, roamed in taverns and clubs for a few days... And we must, alas, confirm the sayings of the people who alerted us. Various tactics were being pulled out to win at every price : demoralization spells, charm spells, chameleon ones to help hiding some cards, and even a not-so-subtle Command Humanoid spell !

We cannot do more than alert on these disgraceful practises, and encourage you, fellow Northpoint inhabitants, to report and denounce such shameful acts. Yes, we pride ourselves as some of the best gamers in Tamriel, with the most distinct and refined games and jousting ceremonials accompanying them. Yes, we as Bretons pride ourselves as being great magic users, and some games even do invole magic in their very gameplay, such as Julianos' Seven Trials !

But is it a reason to resort to dishonest ways to protect our pride from the gaming skills of strangers ? No, absolutely not. We shall not fall into this tempting trap. The best course of action is to play and win fair, if we want to continue to be recognized as the most magnificent game-jousters of the continent. Cheating is an illusion, and Illusion is cheating.

— Andra Anielle, proud Northpoint player and Northpoint Weekly columnist