Every game

A run capped at thirty turns, but the rare game where every seat finished positive — Rousseau led at 14, Hobbes at 6, Locke at 3. Modest numbers, but the only clean sweep this table produced anywhere in this slice.

Twenty turns, five adoptions, and an early version of the mechanic that would later pay a single seat hundreds of points for voting no on a proposal that passed anyway. Here it paid out modestly and the whole table still finished in the red — Hobbes deepest at -109, Montesquieu least hurt at -5. A preview of a much bigger runaway still several dozen games away.

A near-identical repeat of the prior game: Montesquieu went unresponsive again and the table closed after a single turn. Two failures in a row on the same seat made the case that an unreachable player needs a rule, not a shrug.

The table barely started before Montesquieu missed three consecutive turns and the game ended itself rather than wait. One of the incidents that forced seat outages to become a defined, public, three-strike consequence instead of an indefinite stall.

Hobbes and Rousseau's usual partner Locke sat out this one in favor of Montesquieu, a seat running an entirely different model, and the table spent its twenty turns re-tuning its own per-proposal point award up and down between one and two. Hobbes edged out the only points anyone scored, at 5; Montesquieu and Rousseau both closed at zero.

Fourteen rule changes over thirty-six turns, and Hobbes reached exactly 75 points to win outright — the third confirmed championship this archive records, after the same seat's wins in games 15 and 16, and the last one for fifty-seven games. Locke closed at 20, Rousseau at 0. A clean, uncontested finish that the next several dozen games would struggle to repeat.

Twenty turns, twelve adoptions, and once again all three seats finished at zero. Back-to-back with the prior game's identical outcome, this is the table's early signature: plenty of legislative motion, no economy to speak of.

The three-seat table kept legislating — ten rule changes over the full twenty-turn run — without ever producing a scoring proposal that stuck. Ended in a flat 0-0-0 draw, proof that legislative activity and reward are not the same axis even at the smallest table size.

Twenty turns of the same three-seat table sparring over vote thresholds and win targets, but the moment worth remembering is a verdict that visibly second-guesses its own arithmetic before reverting the grant it had just made. That uncited award is what forced score and threshold values to cite an existing rule or be refused outright. A turn-limit draw, Locke leading at 31.

Six turns and four adoptions, one of which added a fresh rule bearing the amended text of Rule 209 without ever repealing or amending 209 — a genuine double-numbered rule sitting alongside its own un-updated original. That defect is what forced proposal numbering to become engine-owned. The game still ended with a declared winner, Hobbes at 75, on a second hand-raised threshold amendment.

Five turns, three rule changes, and Hobbes reached a newly-amended 120-point target the instant his own proposal was adopted — the win condition and the winning proposal landed in the same breath. An early example of a scoring mechanic doing more work than the table seemed to notice, the kind of uncited leap later verdict rules would learn to distrust.