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The Tic-Tac-Toe Mysteries of Xerloc O'Xolmes
It was a sharp grey London morning that begins my story. I was meeting my friend at the Xenocrates Club -- not my habitual retreat, but Xerloc said he had a matter for my memoirs. The doorward squinted and eventually allowed me to the Club's ...
The doorward squinted and eventually allowed me to the Club's sanctum, an indefinite smoke-stained sprawl of nooks, books, and gaslamps. But the circumstances of our interruption -- and the shocking tale of the League of Red-Headed Stepchildren -- will have to wait for another volume of my excellent memoirs. The script just analyzes a given position and lists every move sequence that could get there, given the restrictions of Pretty Good Players.
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