Zagreus leans on the chimaera's rock, both of them watching this strange little robed creature. "It's very simple," he explains obligingly, "One player picks a word and draws the gallows. The other player guesses a letter at a time. Correct guesses get filled in, but incorrect guesses add a piece to the hanged man. If the hanging is complete before you have enough letters filled in to guess," he cheerfully concludes this by miming the wrong sort of execution in context, dragging a finger across his throat. "But if you guess the word in time, the execution is staid, the stick figure pardoned. And then it's your turn to be the executioner." This is absolutely the best and most graphic way to explain Hangman. "The strategy comes in being able to guess in as few letters as possible, and knowing how words are made...and along what lines your opponent is likely to choose their word." The chimaera takes this opportunity to chime in, "Standard rules are no abbreviations or proper names, and you get six wrong guesses. Usually only one word is played, but that is up to the players. Jargon is a technical possibility, but not sporting." Perhaps the chimaera is more capable of learning than its owner.