They play games of chance when the boredom sets in.
The boredom comes often, settling like heavy fog over seemingly endless time.
So they play.
There are complex systems and penalties but rarely rules, and if they do add rules for the sake of variety those rules are often broken.
Not that any rules matter much to them, since they do not wager anything they hold particularly dear.
They risk only the possessions of others. Dreams and wishes, accomplishments and hopes and treasured memories.
If they become what they consider extra bored, the stakes are raised. Wagering fears and loves, trumped only by souls or lives.
There is but a single firm guideline: they never choose their victims, the choosing is always left to the dice.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.