Ladies and gentlemen, adventurers and wanderers of the Realm, open up the latest edition of the MagicDuel Newspaper and read into a story of intrigue.

For the next several days, we shall be bringing you a most extraordinary tale of intrigue, conspiracy, dwindling resources, unlikely alliances, and perhaps even the occasional entirely reasonable overreaction.

A mystery whose roots reach deep into the very resources of MagicDuel.

A mystery known only as...

Our story follows Chewett, Grand Duke of the East, investigating the curious disappearance of the Realm's resources as they begin to uncover something far larger.

Who is taking them?

Why are they disappearing?

Can anything be done before the lands of the Realm are tarnished forever?

And, most importantly...

Can the green CARD stop the forces of evil terrorising the land?

With allies gathered, suspects questioned, evidence examined, and increasingly suspicious quantities of paperwork produced, Chewett sets about forming a coalition dedicated to confronting the spectre of resource depletion.

But in MagicDuel, matters are rarely quite as simple as they first appear.

Presented in the grand tradition of the old wireless detective mysteries, Chewett and the Green CARD will unfold as a serial drama, with a new instalment released each day (depending on Chewett's work schedule).

Each episode will reveal another piece of the mystery.

Another clue.

Another suspect.

Another step towards the truth.

So adjust your wireless set, extinguish the lights, settle into your favourite chair, and listen carefully.

For somewhere in the darkness of the Realm...

the game is already afoot.

ooooo a standoff :D *opens a huge bag of popcorn*

Chewett slumbered.

For how long, none could truly say. In dreams he wandered through the cast shadows of worlds past: places long changed, voices long quiet, and memories of a MagicDuel that existed now only in fragments. The old Realm moved around him like smoke, familiar yet unreachable, until at last the dream began to thin.

When Chewett awoke, it was to a new MagicDuel.

The air itself felt different. There was magic in it again - not the tired echo of what had once been, but something renewed and restless. The world had evolved while he slept. Strange possibilities seemed to gather at the edges of perception, and everywhere there was the sense that the Realm was once more capable of becoming something greater than it had been before.

And yet, as he looked out across the land, that feeling of abundance was betrayed by what lay before him.

The world seemed emptier.

Places once rich with the natural bounty of the Realm stood strangely bare. Resources that had once been found in plenty were sparse, exhausted, or absent altogether. Chewett walked farther, expecting the familiar signs of plenty to return, but the pattern only became clearer.

This was no natural drought.

While he had slumbered, the people of the Realm had been gathering. Harvesting. Taking. Some carefully, some greedily, and some seemingly without thought for what might remain for those who followed.

The magic of MagicDuel had renewed itself.

But its resources had not.

Chewett stood among the barren ground and surveyed what remained.

Something, he decided, would have to be done.

Chewett had seen enough.

If the depletion of the Realm's resources had been caused by the actions of its people, then perhaps its people could also be persuaded to prevent it. One voice complaining about empty lands could easily be ignored. A collection of voices, however, might become something considerably more troublesome.

So Chewett began to write.

Messages were dispatched across the Realm to old friends, familiar names, trusted figures, and those whose opinions carried weight. Some were asked what they had seen. Others were warned of what he feared was happening. A select few received a more direct question: would they help?

Between letters, Chewett drafted the beginnings of something more permanent. Not merely a complaint, nor another temporary agreement destined to disappear when attention wandered elsewhere, but a coalition whose purpose could be stated plainly.

CARD — the Coalition Against Resource Depletion.

Its cause was simple. The natural resources of MagicDuel belonged to a living Realm, not merely to whoever happened to reach them first. Gathering would always have its place, but endless depletion could not be allowed to leave the land barren for everyone who followed.

Those who joined CARD would be expected to do more than merely lend their names to the cause. Members would cease working with known depleters where they could, watch for the marks they left upon the Realm, record their actions, and make their disapproval known. Where they saw depletion taking place, they would challenge it, chastising those responsible as they saw fit and ensuring such behaviour did not pass unnoticed.

The intention was not simply punishment. It was pressure. If depleting the Realm carried consequences — fewer willing allies, greater scrutiny, and the uncomfortable knowledge that someone was keeping note — then perhaps some would think twice before stripping a location bare.

Whether anyone would actually join CARD remained another matter entirely.

Chewett sealed the final letter, placed it alongside the others, and looked towards the small gathering beginning to form around him.

At least, he thought, he would not have to find out alone.