Service offered: Interactive Narrative Consultancy

This is something I’ve been doing off & on for a while, but realised it would be worth formalising the concept.

I would like to offer my services consulting on interactive & genre narratives.

“From experience, I can assure you that Sean has both a serious interest and a deep insight into game mechanics.”
Magnus Hedén of Spiritmask RPG

Whether you’ve got an RPG adventure you’re running or a ruleset you’re writing, whether you’re writing a horror novella or a sci-fi play, I could help you eke out the greatest narrative resonance from your story.

Who is this clown?

Well, I’m not actually a clown. But I am a magician.
That means I spend a lot of time thinking about what each audience might expect and how to achieve & manipulate that.
It means I’m used to thinking about objects & the interactions between them in different ways. No-one thinks about cards like a magician does.

I’m a writer: primarily speculative fiction, like cyberpunk or noir. I like building from and subverting genre expectations. I’ve written about the similarities between roleplaying and medieval oral culture.

I’m an interactive narrative & games designer, from building silly games to modules for published systems. I’ve consulted with mindreaders about card games for oracle cards, written specialist GM advice for indie behemoths and spoken on villainy & antagonism at a monthly videogames conference.

What can I do for you?

  • I can solve problems you have with interactive or static narratives.
  • I can help you understand the core conflict within your narrative.
  • I can highlight & clarify the emotions your game mechanics will promote.
  • I can simplify & refine unwieldy systems or stories.

What do I care about?

I like players & characters to have agency – the ability to visualise & enact narrative consequence.

I like brevity & clarity.

I like people to be social & to promote their ability to tell stories.

What is my fee?

I’m taking a leaf out of the book of someone I greatly admire. My standard initial consultation fee is the price of a cup of caffeine. Buy me a coffee & we’ll talk through your needs. If you envisage needing a longer conversation, you can buy me lunch. If you’re in a different country, we can do PayPal & Skype.

From there onwards, we can arrange further services according to your needs. But for many people, that little nugget of insight will be all you’ll need.

Email me today at SEAN at BOOKSEANSMITH dot CO dot UK & we can arrange a coffee.

What are people saying about this?

“Thanks for all of your advice, and your assistance. You’ve been a huge help, and it really helped me re-structure a lot of the rules, explanations, and organization of everything. Your feedback was invaluable.”
David Schirduan on Mythic Mortals

“I think these [ideas] are, no contest, the best feedback I could get from this project. Thanks :D” —Sangjun Park

Service offered: Interactive Narrative Consultancy

Le Roi en Jaune (fragment)

This has been translated from a French collection of lays. Originally written in a freeform structure, I’ve taken the liberty of corralling it into rime royal. The second half is lost.

Inside the palace crypt Cassilda sings
A mournful song of lost now in Carcosa,
Such as the recent passing of our kings
From living to the lake-side land Carcosa:
Beneath the baleful suns of far Carcosa.
Yet time upon our city now to mourn;
Bid patience ’til successor be inform’d.

Swiftly from the tomb Cassilda steals
And to the waiting arms of her Diego:
A close embrace then at her feet he kneels.
“Do tell me that Camilla does not know.”
“Neither of our love nor poison, no.
The secrets of his murder with him rest;
No need that talk of treason be suppress’d.”

Yet the late king’s illicit lover waits
And hears the dialogue admitting guilt:
Lucrezia stands hid behind crypt gates.
Initial thought of confrontation wilts
To better guard her safety ‘gainst swordhilt.
“I’ll shed the falsehood at the masquerade
And that the coronation might be stay’d.”

While edge of town a tattered stranger knocks
With vivid hand cowl’d under yellow shawl
And cover’d face as though to shield a pox.
The door opened by royal chef full tall
Who in but a breath is under stranger’s thrall.
The stranger he invites into his home.
Then feastly preparations to be done.

For now the lights are dim, the wine is set:
The guests arrive in rich excellence clad.
Despite disguise all as a king are met.
Among the throng the yellow robed nomad.
So look upon the dance as one near-mad
And hear the conversations overheard
Regardless of who took intended word.

Come midnight bell the call to then unmask
And all but one reveal smiling delight.
All but one — the stranger he — “I wear no mask.”
Camilla from him turns her face in fright
Surveys the scene all pallid in moonlight.
Cassilda from the room has turned and fled.
Camilla’s husband: lying, twitching; dead.

The nobles clutch their stomachs full of pain.
The stranger tall he stands amid the scene
Looks on while gore and bile from faces rain.
The toxin wine gone from decanter clean
Absence brighter than yellow tatters sheen.
Into the street fleeing Cassilda thrust:
“Not upon us, oh king! Not upon us!”

Le Roi en Jaune (fragment)

BURN, SIR — an investigation for INTO THE ODD

The following adventure was written by stealing mercilessly from the excellent folk song Burn, Sir by Apple of my Eye. You should definitely buy the song: it makes excellent music to play out the end of the session with.

The Scene is Set

The town of Orchard lies barely a day’s ride from Bastion and is famed for its most excellent cider. It also happens to be the home of a young woman who was waiting on the visit of one of the players: who didn’t turn up as promised…

Ask the following questions of the players — ask a different question to each player:

  • Who is this woman & what happened that you didn’t go back to her?
  • You were also involved, but why don’t you feel bad about it?
  • Why did you plan on visiting Orchard?
  • What do you owe another player?

Likewise, ascertain why the players are now interested in heading to Orchard. Once they have stocked up on supplies, they may make their way out of town.

The Journey to Orchard

Orchard nestles in the low foothills outside of Bastion, set gently on a soft river that runs lazily out to the Polar Ocean. The route there is straight and largely uninteresting, though sadly the players are set upon by a murmuration of 2d4 johnson swifts.

The swifts are fast birds, night-black save for the dull pink of a slobbering acidic tongue in the place of their heads. They are driven to dissolve glistening surfaces (such as eyes). (STR6, DEX16, HP1; d6 acid tongue {ignores Armour}.)

Orchard Town

The village is a sizeable one, its buildings surrounded entirely by fertile farrowed ground. There are no trees. The inhabitants of the town can’t directly remember the recent past. This doesn’t worry them.

1 Halen Dormal
2 Corm Noergat
3 Zhett Blund
4 Glory Scart
5 Swifft Owin
6 Jarl Hedg

The memories are affected by the presence of the hateseed. Likewise, its presence means that all of the roads out of town loop back to Orchard.

At night, a solitary treegaunt stalks. It is driven to pluck ripe fruit. (STR14, HP14; very slow moving; d10 ripening touch; decapitates on Critical Damage.)

Points of interest

  1. The boathouse on the river might be the only way to actually get out of town. Beside it sits the watermill, whose grindstone is mealing up poison-powder from appleseeds.
  2. At the edge of town, a rainbow’s end almost meets the ground. There is nothing there beyond a murmuration of 2d4 johnson swifts.
  3. There remains a single barrel of cider in the pub. The price goes up continually as the barrel drains: half a pint currently costs sixty shillings.

The villagers are able to identify the house of the ex-lover. She won’t see anyone.

The next morning

The oppressive mood of the village feels even greater and when you look outside it’s possible to see hundreds of treegaunts moving slowly about. It very much feels like a net closing in. After leaving a building, as far as the eyes can see there are houses burning.

This is your doing.

Despite the external threat, there is a clear path to either the well, or a conspicuous cellar. The player with the lowest WIL knows that the solution lies beneath.


  1. There is a room with a precariously balanced round-bottom flask atop a chest. On the bottle is the inscription “Eat me”.
  2. Along one wall, a rainbow-shimmering cascade of water descends — it is possible to walk through this with no danger (beyond the dampness) and doing so will allow you to bypass the next threat.
  3. As you push deeper into the tunnels, there are two treegaunts holding guard.
  4. Ensconced in a bed in a sparsely lit room lies the weathered form of the ex-lover. About her neck is hung the hateseed — an object that turns negative feelings into animating power (and if it is taken from her, the treegaunts will cease to “live”). Being close to her is dangerous: she breathes clouds of cyanide gas (pass a STR save each round or take 1d4 STR damage).
BURN, SIR — an investigation for INTO THE ODD

Four reasons why Judge Death is the perfect OSR antagonist

Staring down a vicious stat-block just isn’t in keeping with the mindset that best suits OSR roleplaying.  A long list of pre-determined weaknesses and resistances lends itself to an archivist’s game. A player’s success at getting past prescriptivist obstacles becomes an admin task instead of an opportunity for creative problem solving.

Vicious stat-blocks are so much easier to design.  Want to make this more dangerous?  Just add two to all of the numbers.

But designing problems that enable problem-solving is much more enjoyable an experience.  The incomparable Arnold K. wrote an excellent piece that summarises what I most enjoy about designing these challenges:

Writing a good OSR-style problem is tougher than it sounds.  It needs to be something that. . .
  • has no easy solution.
  • has many difficult solutions.
  • requires no special tools (e.g. unique spells, plot devices).
  • can be solved with common sense (as opposed to system knowledge or setting lore).
  • isn’t solvable through some ability someone has on their character sheet.  Or at least, it isn’t preferentially solvable.  I’m okay with players attacking the sphinx (a risky undertaking) if they can’t figure out the riddle, because risky-but-obvious can be a solution, too.

Now, a lot of OSR play does’t require overt antagonists.  However, Arnold’s breakdown coupled with my well-documented love of villains and resulted in the realisation that Judge Death is perhaps the perfect OSR antagonist.

Judge Death by Frazer Irving

1. He swiftly sets a tone

While there can be a lot said for subtlety, it becomes increasingly difficult to deal with a subtle challenge in a nuanced manner.  Einstein famously said, “If you cannot explain something simply, you do not know it well enough.”  Judge Death’s personality is crass (& arguably one-dimensional) but this quickly establishes a standard from which to interact with.  Through play, the shades of meaning can be found.

The global annihilation threat isn’t a new story and it isn’t a particularly subtle one.  It is retold so often because it retains a powerful emotional pull.

Likewise, Judge Death’s plan sets up an inevitability that demands interaction.

2. His motive is clear to grasp

All crimes are commited by the living, therefore all life is a crime.

While Judge Death is unlikely to calmly debate the innate issues of his logical fallacy here (Talking back to a judge? That’s ten years, perp.), his reasoning is easy to follow.  The key word here is grasp.  Not only can players simply understand it, they are able to use it as a tool.  It doesn’t require setting-specific information in order to interact with and its simplicity enables the players to make safe assumptions about Death’s likely behaviours. And from safe assumptions, risky plans can be built.

Furthermore, it is clear that his motive is evil, in case there was any misapprehension about his role in the story.

Fire, Fear, Mortis & Death

3. He comes with interesting friends

A villain capable of proving a real threat to the world doesn’t work alone.  However, Judge Death doesn’t just come with a legion of faceless goons.

The success of the other Dark Judges come from their variety; while the simplicity of their goal might become monotonous over a large campaign, the difference in their behaviour and tools help provide freshness.  The variety and distinction is another thing that helps in play: each becomes an overt opportunity to solve problems the solutions for which will differ between encounters.  Consistently showing players that they must solve these kinds of problems will give them the skill to solve problems later on.

4. His statistics aren’t the most important thing

While it would be possible to write a stat-block for Death, he becomes a much more interesting villain if a number of truths are established about his character than a number of Hit Points given.

  • Judge Death doesn’t regenerate xHP each turn; instead, he suffers no personal harm on being damaged.
  • If his (current) body is completely destroyed, he moves on as an insubstantial spirit-form.  This form can possess bodies.
  • He doesn’t deal traditional damage; instead he reaches into your body and can stop your brain or heart.

Thus, fighting him doesn’t descend into a war of attrition.  The combat becomes less a mastery of the system, more a mastery of the narrative.

* * *

I can’t recommend you drop Death directly into your game.  Intellectual property protection would deem that a crime (for which the sssentence iss death).  But you can use the facets of his success to create successful antagonists in your OSR games.  Consider how you can use a character’s tone, her motive, her companions and the innate truths of her existence to provide elements for your players to interact with.  Your villains should be much more than just a bundle of numbers.

Let us know how you apply these lessons to your villains in the comments below.

Four reasons why Judge Death is the perfect OSR antagonist

Suburban Cathedral: a dungeon for INTO THE ODD

The Hook: Across town, various metal panels have been riveted into the ground. Some of these have even been found inside buildings. The panels have been put in place by a labour of molemensoon after the ground opens up in a fissure immediately beneath the panels. These fissures can be followed down into an enormous cavern five storeys deep into the earth. Out of the centre of this cavern rises a grand cathedral-like building of ruddy stone and marble.


The Truth: The panels prevent the fissures opening up further. The earth is splitting because a fissuremana living embodiment of an earthquakeis trapped within the suburban cathedral. The molemen are holding it there, trapped in a prison of tin.

It is not necessary to free the fissureman. However, the cathedral itself houses many valuable secrets.


The Map: The internal layout of the cathedral is one you know already. It will be a large public building with a mix of room sizes and shapes, and multiple entry points; a school or museum is perfect. The most important office in the building is the prison of the fissuremanit’ll be directly guarded by two frenetic molemen.

For each room the players enter, roll d6:

  1. There is a monster here. Roll d6+2 and consult the threat table below.
  2. This room is home to a monster, though they are absent. Roll d6+2 and consult the threat table.
  3. The room is empty, save for an odd sight or sound.
  4. The room is empty, save for a strange aroma.
  5. “The room appears empty.”
  6. There is something of value in the room. Roll on the treasure table below.

If players make a lot of noise, or delay for some time, roll d6: on a 1, roll d8 on the threat tablethat result enters this room; on a 2, roll d8 on the threat tablethat result is in the adjacent room.


The Threat Table (roll d8)

  1. “The air keens with a sudden pressure.” All players must make WIL saves or lose all HP.
  2. “From the direction of the further door, you hear an audible, breathless sigh.”
  3. An acrid scent tips your attention to one of the surfaces, which is coated with some indeterminate fluid.
  4. The room is darker than usual, save for a dancing humanoid glowing with dull light; it is in fact the lure of a CAVERN ANGLER (Str 18, HP8, d12 bite; driven to eat sources of warmth, swallows characters whole with Critical Damage.)
  5. A shapeless body on the floor is the home to a swarm of LEATHERWASPS (Dex 13, HP10, Armour 2 {because of swarming behaviour}, d4 sting; driven to escape into open air, lays eggs in victim on causing Critical Damage that slowly dessicate the victim’s flesh over a fortnightthe skin becomes a leathery shell for the adult wasps).
  6. Smack of d6 JELLYFINCHES that float through still air (Str 4, HP1, d10 beak; driven to crack open small, hard things).
  7. Chamber with d4 SKYCRABS moving through space on long, filament legs. (Str 9, HP4, Armour 1, d6 claws; driven to protect their territory).
  8. d6/2 MOLEMEN (HP2, d6 claws; driven to stay hidden).


Treasure Table (roll d10)

  1. Bag of Infinite Rats (single use)
  2. Hydraulics Bottles
  3. Dressed skycrab (very tasty)
  4. Baudrillard Hauberk (attacks on you are Impaired; take d4 damage when you move)
  5. Portable Portal (the size of a shield)
  6. Skeleton Key (only capable of locking doors)
  7. Niall’s Covetous Unguent
  8. d7 Artefacts of Impractical Shape (valuable to collectors)
  9. One cicada, bound and gagged
  10. Antique chess set


Suburban Cathedral: a dungeon for INTO THE ODD

Differently Valuable Loot

Were you to break into my house*, this shelf probably has the most valuable loot.

Notice especially the playtest version of ZIGGURAT & a purloined craps point.

It took me (& my parents) a long time to finally complete the collection of Fighting Fantasy gamebooks—clearly the series that got me into tabletop gaming. Half of the reason is the relative rarity of some of the books: the final of the original series—Curse of the Mummy—was only printed 5000 times, and even one of the newer texts goes for fifty quid online. I’ve seen auctions go to several hundred pounds for some of these books.

Sure, the TV beside might look more appealing, but these would probably fetch a higher price total.


So I’ve been recently building dungeons for a secret project** and much of that has involved deciding upon various things for players to locate and sell for cold, hard cash. Worryingly, this process has gotten me thinking.

The treasure you give your players doesn’t just have to be worth more money.

While the most obvious (& easily altered) value of an object is its innate or accepted cost, it shouldn’t be the only thing you consider when setting out treasure.

  • If you have a buyer, it’s more valuable. At the baseline, this is the core of a fetch-quest. Here adventurer, go get me this thing. I’ll give you gold.

That said, it’s also possible to realise partway through possession of something that its value can go up.

  • Information (& context) affects value. If you suddenly learn that someone is a keen buyer of something you already have, suddenly its relative value to your players increases.
  • Value moves both ways. Blood diamonds are much cheaper. Epiphanies can shift value. Epiphanies are of value.

Luckily, I’ve never had a book stolen. I have had a bike stolen. (It was a really lovely bike too—sorry Mum.) You can’t ride a book away.

  • The ease of transport is something that cannot be ignored in its value. I recently placed a massive ten-foot square triptych in my SECRET DUNGEON**. Its monetary value is fantastic; its relative value is quite low because it is so difficult to get out of the dungeon.

Clearly this list is missing a lot of nuance. I don’t really care to hone that out, but I do want to hear what you’ve done about valuable loot.


* Don’t.

** SECRETS. Okay, honestly though – if you’re interested in OSR RPGs and playing cards, do get in touch.

Differently Valuable Loot

Three Weeks gives THE KING IN YELLOW two iä!s – a module for Trail of Cthulhu

Designers notes: This is unashamedly self-plagiarised from my own creatures within my EXUVIAE setting and a bait & switch I used in a playtest of one of the GOBLIN QUEST ruleshacks, peppered about a distorted Five Room Dungeon. Who said creativity needed novelty?

This is a one-shot module for a fairly pulpy investigative horror game. It’s designed for TRAIL OF CTHULHU, though wouldn’t take much to reskin to another system. There’s not a lot of balance as it is.

^ { ; , ; } ^

The Hook
An old school friend of one of the players is directing a play at the local fringe theatre. She reaches out and offers the players some comp tickets if they’ll come to the show.

Encourage the players to build up more details about what they remember of this contact. They were never great friends, but they were once pretty close. Why haven’t you heard from her in such a while?

The Horrible Truth
The play is the accursed KING IN YELLOW. The players’ contact is under the thrall of the lead actress & the performance itself ritualistically aligns part of our world with the plane of Carcosa. If the players survive, they will realise this at the climax of the adventure.

^ { ; , ; } ^

Beginning Anew
The theatre is above a pub in the borough of Camden. The pub itself – The Old Deer, has for its sign an enormous hart standing before a blazing full moon. Inside, there is a great pair of antlers above the bar, which has fewer patrons than the antlers have prongs. Soon after the second player has entered the bar, there’s a great smashing sound as a pint glass is smashed behind the bar.

The box office is not yet open. However, because of the imminent play, time is behaving irrationally within the venue. Throughout this scene, time will reset to the smashed glass – each time it does calls for a 2-point Stability test. Characters refresh Health and Athletics / Fleeing each time that time slips: their other pools do not refresh.

Each time that time slips, the antlers take on a slightly different shape. Art or Outdoorsman will notice this.

Whilst biding their time, players might succeed at a Sense Trouble (difficulty: 3) test to spot one pane of the window to the street instead shows a different city – Carcosa (spotting this calls for a 2-point Stability test). If they notice this, an Irish gentleman sat in front of the window – Colm Willem – will misinterpret their funny looks. Colm is a fighty man.

Box Office Frustrations
The box office is manned by Susan Firm, who is typically unenthused by most things. Despite the players’ contact’s assertions (& even name-dropping), Susan knows nothing about comp(limentary) tickets for them. She will make a fuss and delay the players, particularly annoyed that they’d waste her time in this manner. During their discussions, Susan will happily wave through other punters, not even checking their tickets.

She is particularly susceptible to Flattery, or a convenient spend.

Surviving the Play
The production values of the play aren’t enormous, but the costume and makeup is good. The lead actress, Ellen Cowan, is recognised by some of the players – she’s probably once been at the same party as the character with the highest Oral History or Credit Rating. She is playing the twins, Cassilda and Camilla, using a vertically-split costume and a handheld mirror.

Watching the entirety of the play counts the same as having read it, for the purposes of the rules (see Page XX).

During the play, each player rolls the dice once to determine something that happens in the audience. Each event can only occur once – if you would roll the same, instead take the next lowest number available.

  1. Hastur appears in the King in Yellow form & watches from the back of the theatre. This calls for a 5-point Stability test – with the automatic loss of 2 points of Stability and 2 of Sanity.
  2. One of the members of the audience walks towards the cyclorama at the back of the stage, idly tearing her clothes off as they go; once her clothes are torn off, she starts tearing at her forearms, before walking straight into the cyc as if it were an inky well. Observing this calls for a 4-point Stability test.
  3. One of the audience members starts fighting those nearby. She will not stop until she is restrained.
  4. One of the audience members suffers a cardiac arrest. First Aid can prevent her dying.
  5. One of the audience members begins to sway and whimper. Psychoanalysis or Reassurance can steady her.
  6. One of the audience members seemingly falls asleep and begins mouthing along to the play. Observing this calls for a 2-point Stability test, though this is subtle – only players who succeeded at the Sense Trouble test will notice it.

The play is excessively compelling. It would take a Stability test (difficulty: 7) to leave at any point. If players do this, take them straight to Leaving the Venue below.

Meet the Cast and Crew
If the players survive the play – all the world’s a stage – they can meet their contact and Cowan after the show. Up close, Cowan looks strange and bloated: the kind of puffiness seen in a waterlogged sponge. Her eyes are lively and unfocused.

It soon becomes apparent that their contact is greatly under the thrall of Cowan. If the players don’t show suitable supplication, she will attack them.

Cowan’s apparent human form is actually a waxen husk, filled with a smack of jellyfish. As her body is damaged, these jellyfish swarm into the air. At its core is a sentient faceless beetle, the size of a large cat.

Ellen Cowan – flesh husk; Athletics 7, Scuffling 13, Health 2; slam attack (-1 damage). When damaged, the husk releases a cloud of jellyfish. Avoiding them requires an Athletics test (difficulty: twice the number of strikes she’s suffered); failure means being stung (-2 damage).

Once the husk is destroyed, Cowan’s core attacks.

Cowan – faceless beetle core; Athletics 10, Scuffling 8, Health 8; razorlimbs (+0 damage); armour: -1 (chitinous hide).

If the player’s survive, their contact is desolate at the loss of Cowan. There is a very real chance that the jellyfish will settle on her weeping form.

Leaving the Venue
The pub beneath the theatre is empty. None of the patrons or staff are present, and the antlers above the bar are drooping like a parched flower. Allow players a Sense Trouble test (difficulty: 4) to notice the strangeness beyond the pub’s windows before they leave…

Outside the pub is no longer the teeming streets of London, but rather the desolate conurbation of Carcosa – a revelation that shears 3 Stability points & 1 Sanity point from all who survive.

– FIN –

Three Weeks gives THE KING IN YELLOW two iä!s – a module for Trail of Cthulhu

Collarbone: a short game of patience for half a pack of cards

I have come to the realisation over the past few months that I would count patience with cards as one of my real hobbies. It’s not just something I do when the fancy strikes me: it’s something I look forward to doing, it’s something I hunt out old books describing, it’s something my girlfriend bought me two packs of patience cards for my birthday for.

So, if you’re similarly a fan – get in touch! And if you’re yet to be, let this be a good starting point.

You’ll need pretty much a complete pack of cards, though you’ll only use half.

The layout for COLLARBONE
The layout for COLLARBONE


  1. Take from a pack of cards all of the black cards, except the kings; similarly take six of the red cards – these can be any value, though I tend to use each of the red court cards. Shuffle these together and set the rest of the cards aside.
  2. The aim of the game is to pile all of the black cards into the foundation, represented by the vertical green pile in the image above.
  3. The red cards represent blocking cards; if these would be dealt into the seven tableau piles, deal the red card face down. Red cards are never dealt into the foundation.
  4. At the beginning of the game, deal seven cards in the shape of the horizontal tableau piles shown in the image above. If you deal a red card at the beginning of the game, turn it face down and deal another card on top.
  5. After you have dealt your seven piles, deal next card to the central, vertical pile. This is the foundation.
  6. The remaining cards form the stock. You will be allowed to deal through this twice during the course of the game.
  7. The foundation is built according to doubling values (less thirteen when it is exceeded), regardless of suit: A, 2, 4, 8, (16 – 13 =) 3, 6 ,12/Q, (24 – 13 =) 11/J, (22 – 13 =) 9, (18 – 13 =) 5, 10, (20 – 13 =) 7, (14 – 13 =) 1/A, &c.
  8. You can move any card from the tableau to the top of the foundation; empty tableau cards are filled from the top of the waste pile, or from the remaining stock if the waste pile is empty.
  9. If you cannot make a move, deal one card from the stock to a single waste pile. You may move cards from the top of the waste pile onto the foundation. If a tableau space becomes empty, move the top card of the waste pile into that space (if the card is red, place it face down).
  10. If you run out of cards in the stock, turn the waste pile over without shuffling & assume this is the new stock. Much like the foundation is built by doubling, you can only deal through the stock twice!
Collarbone: a short game of patience for half a pack of cards