Korvosa, Neth 23, 4708
Hadric wakes up early to care for his catatonic wife. He moves her body to the side to remove the threadbare sheet, replacing it with a slightly cleaner threadbare sheet. He smooths out the blanket keeping his wife warm and leans over to kiss her forehead. As he draws his head back, he notices a card half under her pillow. He pick it up, looks at the front (The Uprising), then turns it over to read the back…
---
When did you get the new tattoo? Alika sleepily asks as Eran gets out of bed.
What? I haven’t got a new tattoo.
Yes you do. On your back. The top of your right shoulder.
Eran twists his head, craning his eyes to see the top of his back. There is a new patch of brightly inked skin! He reaches back and feels not skin, but a card. It’s a Harrow card, The Unicorn...
---
Tolen gets up from the alley floor. We hasn’t slept at home for the past three days. He runs his hand through his greasy hair and starts to unfold the cloak he was using as a rough pillow. As he unfolds it, a card flutters to the ground (The Big Sky). He picks it, turning it over to read the scrawled message on the back...
---
Fane wakes up late in his small room in the Shingles high above Bridgefront. Even though its almost noon, there is a chill in the air, as a breeze blows through the makeshift walls of his room. He is still tired and stiff from his long night searching the back alleys of Old Korvosa for any sign of Lamm. Just then a bright coloured piece of paper blows by in a gust of wind. His hand snakes out and he catches it expertly between two fingers. It’s a card (The Juggler)...
---
Allyph shivers in the cold as she enters the abandoned outbuilding. The room is small and dark. Anything of value was removed long ago. Stacks of old crates shield her bedroll and meager possessions from view. It’s been her home for the last five days. She needs to find a new place to live—she has to stay one step ahead of Lamm’s men. As she starts to pack up her stuff, she notices a colourful card that wasn’t there before. It’s a harrow card, the courtesan. She turns it over and sees the note...
---
Cardon looks around his dormitory room at the Acadamae for the last time. He’s finally done it! He’s passed the graduation exam, summoning a foul imp from the very depth’s of Hell. It’s time to move on—Sivanah calls him to her service. As he turns his back to exit, he spots a card stuck in the edge of the doorframe. He pulls it out to look at it. The Carnival
---
The back of each of the harrow cards has the same text:
I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.
Leaning against a barrel in an alleyway, Quin (aka Cardon the Wizard, aka Cardon Quid) gazes across the cobblestones at 3 Lancet Street. Quin shields his eyes against the noonday sun with his left hand as he raises his right to take another bite from the apple he nicked earlier on. Just a street bum taking his ease, he hopes his presence goes undetected on his impromptu stakeout.
Taking the harrow card out of his pocket, he reads the message on the back for the twentieth time, failing again to glean any new information. He returns to staring down the house, willing it to reveal its secrets, but it doesn't oblige him.
As he takes another bite from his apple, he spots Guardsman Healey on another one of his patrols. Now would be a bad time to be spotted and subjected to another one of the man's infamous pat-downs.
Quin ducks back further into the alleyway and makes his way north to Sivanah House, pulling off his urchin disguise as he goes. It looks like the only way to get his answers is to show up at the meeting. He double-checks his ebony wand, tucked firmly in its sheathe up his sleeve, and with his mind made up, Cardon Quid strides purposely up to Veil House. Perhaps Mistress Jarla has a hearty stew on the fire. It is Seven Veils, after all, and the Sivanah priests would be preparing for the evenings...festivities. Hopefully, this meeting won't take him away from the fun for too long, though, the mysteriousness of the summons seems almost providential, given the date.
Cardon pauses just outside Veil House, idly stirring the water in the fountain and gazing at his reflection. Seeing himself, he realizes Mistress Jarla will not be happy to see him looking so grimy...
Eran stands in front of Number 3 Lancet Street, more clothed than normal in the colorful robes of a Varisian, his kapenia flowing slightly in the wind. He takes a deep breath, and in his typical go get 'em manner he walks up and knocks on the door. In his other hand, he holds the Unicorn, pondering at its meaning.
What does this card mean? And, more importantly how did it end up almost tattooed on my body? I must have answers...
There’s no answer to Eran's knocking. Cautiously peering in, he doesn’t see anyone. Eran pushes the door open all the way and enters the house.
The cozy chamber within this small home is filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The haze comes from several sticks of incense smouldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke itself seems to soften edges and gives the room a dream-like feel.
The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling men’s hearts, another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall hooded figure shrouded in mist, a flaming sword held in a skeletal hand. Several brightly-colored rugs cover the floor, but the room’s only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throwcloth and seven elegant tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table. There is a note on top of the table.
Thank you for coming. I had to step out for a bit, but shall return shortly. Please, have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains bread and drink for you.
Knowing the best place to hide is in plain sight, Fane loses himself in the crowd wandering the streets outside Number 3 Lancet Street. He watches as someone else seems to show an interest in the building. He is dressed as an urchin and it's a convincing disguise. Fane files the face away as a possible person of interest. Before long they are gone.
As, it gets later and the sun starts to sink, much to Fane's surprise he sees someone he does know. It's the sorcerer Eran walking straight to the door and going in. Could it be he who sent the card? Could this all have been a set up?
Fane slips into the shadows and searches around the outside of the house looking for a backdoor to let himself in through quietly.
"3 Lancet Street", Allyph mutters as she rolls up her bedroll. Finished, she puts it in her backpack together with her other belongings.
This will be place... I forgot... I've been hiding in too many places.
Her backpack still in her hand, and the courtesan card in the other, Allyph makes sure she's not forgotten anything. She then tucks the card in one of the smaller pockets of her backpack. While putting her backpack on her back she lets out a long sigh.
"Off I go", she says as she steps out of the outbuilding, and closes the door behind her. Looking up, Allyph estimates the sun will set in about an hour.
I'd better hurry.
The small bungalow is attached to taller buildings on either side. Fane stealthily moves to the alley behind the buildings. There is a door in the back of house--unlocked. Fane slips through into a small pantry.
Through an open door, he can see Eran in the main room. There is no one else, only a table and chairs.
Eran, still confused, takes a seat where he can see the front door. He muches on a piece of bread while he fiddles with the Unicorn in the other hand, staring at the door, willing whoever is responsible for this macabre meeting to show themselves.
Eran wracks his brain for the meaning of the tapestries on the wall. He can't quite work out their symbolism, but its very similar in theme to harrow cards. The tapestries most likely symbolize various aspects of fate. This looks like a fortune teller's salon.
So this is the building.
Having just arrived in Lancet Street, Allyph looks at the building where she's supposed to meet up with the person who left her the courtesan card. She walks up to the door and opens it, seeing a familiar face as she steps inside the building.
"Eran?", she asks somewhat confused, "You wanted to meet me here?"
Noticing the card in his hand she shakes her head. "Seems you were invited, like me."
Allyph walks over to one of the chairs and puts her backpack on it, then seats herself in the chair next to it. She takes the courtesan card out of her backpack and lays it on the table, shoving it toward Eran.
"This one is the card I have received."
After reading the note on top of the table, Allyph decides to not touch what's in the basket.
Let's first see who's invited us here.
She then looks around and observes the room, looking for anything unusual or pretty that might catch her eye.
Allyph sees a figure with a badly scarred face lurking in the pantry.
Noticing her other ally, Allyph calls out to him. "Fane! You were invited too?"
She cocks her head, wondering why Fane was in the pantry.
Probably checking out the place...
Curse her elven eyes! Oh well, nothing for it but to come out now, Old Bean. At least you know now Eran didn't send the note.
Fane steps out from the pantry with a confident stride, acting as if he had never just been hiding, and walks over to the table. "I see you two both received an invite as well. How serendipitous!,” and draws the Juggler card from seemingly out of the air.”I can but assume you were summoned here with the promise of news on one Gaedren Lamm same as I?” Fane looks over the card on the table and takes some bread and wine, but eat and drinks neither.
The front door opens and Cardon the Wizard (looking nothing like he appeared earlier that afternoon) slowly walks in, scanning everything with dark eyes that seem to glow faintly (detect magic), holding his ebony wand at the ready.
Taking in Eran and Allyph, his brow furrows. "If this is another meeting to petition the Academae, you needn't have been so cryptic." Noticing Fane around the corner, he gives a start and turns to train his wand on the scarred man.
"Hello, friend?"
Tolen stumbles to the house, half drunk. He watches it for a few minutes, seeing activity inside. He drains the last of his grog, throws aside the bottle, and heads in. Tolen is stunned at the turn of events... The people inside are what could now be called acquaintances. Not friends, not yet. Allyph, Eran, and Fane are there talking to each other while each of them hold a harrow card. Tolen suddenly sobers. It's a trap! Lamm found out about us; one of us wasn't as quiet as they should have been! Tolen draws his sword and turns toward the door, waiting for the ambush...
"It appears so", Allyph says to answer Fane. She then turns her head as Cardon walks in, listening to what he says.
"We were summoned here", Allyph explains to Cardon. "The person who did so hasn't shown yet."
A moment later Tolen stumbles in. As he draws his sword and turns toward the door, Allyph jumps up while taking a dagger from under her cloak.
"What's wrong, you see something?", she asks Tolen, slightly on edge by his sudden movement.
In a flash Fane is holding a dagger in his hand poised to throw,”Now, now my good man, please lower that wand of yours before one of us gets....”
But before he can finish his sentence, in through the door steps Tolen. As he draws his sword, Fane steps back and looks for a window to make a quick escape if needed.
With the most recent arrival, Cardon loosens one of his scarves, holding it in his hands. Glints of metal peek out from underneath the silk.
"I take it none of you sent this summons," he says, matter-of-factly.
He lowers the wand so it doesn't point at Fane, though he doesn't put it away...yet.
Fane doesn't lower his dagger, but no longer aims it at Cardon. He takes another step back towards the pantry eyes scanning the room for danger and any other entrances to this room.
"Tolen, glad you could make the party. Have you brought some unwelcome guests? Oh, and is this cad with the pointy stick a friend of yours?
"Seems almost everyone I know with a connection to Geadren Lamm has been summoned here", Allyph says, smiling at both Fane and Cardon.
Hint, hint. Don't kill each other.
Allyph lowers her dagger somewhat, but continues to hold it firmly. Picking up the courtesan card from the table with her other hand, she holds it up for all to see. "I expect all of us received one such card?"
Will more arrive? I hope they won't all try to attack each other again if so.
She tucks away the card in one of the pockets of her coat, then starts pacing back and forth in the room.
The front door opens and Cardon the Wizard (looking nothing like he appeared earlier that afternoon) slowly walks in, scanning everything with dark eyes that seem to glow faintly (detect magic), holding his ebony wand at the ready.
Fane doesn't lower his dagger, but no longer aims it at Cardon. He takes another step back towards the pantry eyes scanning the room for danger and any other entrances to this room.
"Tolen, glad you could make the party. Have you brought some unwelcome guests? Oh, and is this cad with the pointy stick a friend of yours?
[dice=Perception]1d20 + 5
The pantry has two other exits--one leads to a small kitchen, the other to a tidy bedroom.
Carson's eyes widen, and he quickly sheathes his wand up his sleeve with a click and pulls a harrow card from his coat pocket, staring at it intently.
Knowledge Arcana:
"How stupid can you get?" he growls, mostly to himself. "Show me your cards," he barks firmly.
KA on Eran's:
KA's on Allyph's:
KA's on Fane's:
"These damned things..."
KA's on Tolen's:
Carson's eyes widen, and he quickly sheathes his wand up his sleeve with a click and pulls a harrow card from his coat pocket, staring at it intently.
Knowledge Arcana: 1d20+7
"How stupid can you get?" he growls, mostly to himself. "Show me your cards," he barks firmly.
KA on Eran's: 1d20+7
KA's on Allyph's: 1d20+7
KA's on Fane's: 1d20+7"These damned things..."
KA's on Tolen's: 1d20+7
Eran seems to snap out of a daze. "Allyph, you were summoned too?" Once everyone else enters, Eran stands abruptly, ready to fight. He relaxes as events unfold, and once he realizes what Cardon is going, he casts Detect Magic and attempts to discern what he can about the cards as well.
As he studies them he addresses the group. "Cardon. Good to see you. Again. Tolen drunk again, eh? Haha! Fane, Allyph, always a pleasure. It would appear that we have all been invited here by the same person. Do any of you know this person's identity? No? Well, my guess is it is some sort of forutne teller. I am guessing these cards are some sort of scrying tool. Hopefully this person truthfully does have good intentions and wishes to help us to hunt down the fiend Gaedran Lamm." With that, he returns to his seat, and his snack.
"Scrying!? Somebody's been spying on...that could explain," Cardon looks like he's about to be sick. He sits down heavily in a chair.
As he gathered the blanket to wash, Hadric flipped the card over. As he read what it had to say, a hint of his preternatural bloodrage overcame him. Eleiana's slow, measured breathing snapped him out of it. He put the card into his belt pouch as he donned his armour and prepared to leave for work.
"I will be late tonight, for work," he mentioned to his father-in-law in passing. The old man grunted in recognition, from his storefront.
His job as a bruiser at the door of a brothel at Eel's End did not pass by as uneventfully as he had hoped; a group of rowdy Varisian customers had to be 'convinced' to be escorted off the premises. Looking impatiently at the setting sun, Hadric asked them politely to move along. "Please do not cause trouble."
The hooligans jeered at him. "A boor like you should go back to where he belongs, in the woods with the goblins!"
Annoyed, Hadric slowly moved his hand to the shaft of his battle-axe, drawing himself up to his full height as he towered over the lollygaggers.
They part way, slightly shaken by the Ulfen warrior. Hadric pushed his way through the crowd, received his three silvers for the day, and ran through the streets - he knew he was late, and whoever had wrote the card had practically promised him Lamm's head on a platter. Panting, he wheeled the corner of the crowded city streets and found the door he was looking for. Taking sharp breaths to regain his composure, he forcefully opened the door, one hand on the hilt of his weapon for a trap.
Eran watches as the Ulfen man enters. "Ah, I presume it is you that sent us these?" he holds up his card.
He relaxes as events unfold, and once he realizes what Cardon is going, he casts Detect Magic and attempts to discern what he can about the cards as well.
Fane keeps his path to the pantry open and looks over to Eran,"I don't think so, my friend. This northerner doesn't have the look of a fortune teller. Besides, from the number of chairs I would say there is one for each of us plus one for our host. I have a feeling our host won't be making an appearance until we have all arrived and had a chance to meet. Our Ulfen friend here makes six."
In skald directed to Hadric, "Can I assume you received a harrow card with a note to meet here at sunset?"
Cardon leaps out of his chair as the huge man bursts into the building. With a click, his wand is in his hand, and with a quick motion, he hurls a bolt of arcane death at the man...at least, he tries to. In reality, the wand just fizzles and sparks and does nothing.
Cardon looks even greener than before. Once it's clear they aren't being attacked, he forces the wand back into its hiding place with a bit of extra force and slumps back in his chair.
Hadric's eyes widen as he surveys the room, darting from face to face. Seeing the look of panic and the sparks from a man's wand, he lowers his guard and laughs, but quickly catches himself in the middle of his chuckle when someone spoke in his mother-tongue. Intrigued, he replied in Skald in a caustic tone,
"What use have I for fortune-tellers' cards? I came here because I have received one that looks similar... although I say, the pictures are different."
He surveys the room once more, quietly closing the door behind him.
Seeing a familiar person in a swathe of unfamiliar faces, he turned to look at the half-elf with a look of puzzled bemusement and disbelief. Switching to an accented but passable Common, he asks, "Allyph, is that you? Is this some sort of sick Varisian joke? I came here for the man who would lead us to Lamm. Is he here?"
He moves forward to the number of chairs, eyeing the food and drink cautiously. As he does so, he gives Tolen a begrudging nod - faces in the Korvosan Guard (even former ones) are hard to forget, especially when the whole outfit had caused him so much grief. He then turns his gaze towards the less sturdy-built lot in front of him. They look like the hocus-pocus, magicking type, but I don't recall their faces...but they look somewhat familiar. Perhaps they came poking around the store sometime?
Fane returns his dagger back up his sleeve and looks at each person in turn, "So, each of us are connected to one another through each other. And the name I keep hearing is that of the nefarious Lamm. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that each of you have had a run in with this vile wretch.
"For those of you that don't know me let me introduce myself. My name is Fane, known by many as Fane the Scarred. Three guesses as to why. A parting gift from our dear friend Lamm from when he left me for dead.
"I know Eran, Tolen, and Allyph already as we have been hunting for Lamm to answer for his crimes against us. But you two," gesturing towards Cardon & Hadric,"I have yet to have the honor of being introduced to.
"Oh, and Tolen do put away your sword, I believe you are making the chap with the wand more nervous than needs be."
With a flourish, Fane advances to the table and pours a glass of wine and hands it to Cardon,"Here, drink up, old chap. I think you need this. There, there no hard feelings now?"
After the confusion, Tolen sheaths his sword, hands his card to the spellcasters to look at, and sits down. He sees the wine and pours a healthy glass of the stuff. The lumbering hulk of a man enters. Tolen knows him... Herric... Thadric... Hadric, yes! A fellow guard! "Hadric, how is the guard treating you?" Tolen takes a large bite of some bread, as if he hasn't eaten in several days. He hasn't, or rather, has drank his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
"Fane," he gestures towards Cardon. "This is Cardon. And Acadamae rat, though friendlier than most. Now you've met." Eran's words make no attempt to hide the disdain for the Acadamae, but is obvious he holds at least a small amount of respect for Cardon himself.
"Tolen, I know you have been through a lot, but don't you think you have had enough to drink? I mean, wouldn't you like to be at least a little sober when we meet our host?" Eran says as he sips his own glass hypocritically.
Eran eyes the giant of a man that has most recently entered. "So, my large friend, Hadric is it? Yes, so why is it that one such as you would be seeking a Korvosan crimelord?"
"Hi Hadric", Allyph says, turning around after inspecting the tapestries on the walls from up close. She decides it's best to also put her dagger away and does so. "Sun's set by now. The person who's invited us should show up soon."
Going back to inspecting the tapestry with the dancing angels, Allyph curiously pulls it away from the wall just enough to see behind it.
Ah...it's also printed on the back...
Cardon takes the wine and, without thinking, downs a large gulp before he realizes what he's doing. He sets the glass down.
"Thanks."
Just as everyone has started to relax a bit, there is a sound at the entrance. The front door opens slowly and an an attractive middle-aged Varisian woman with long dark hair enters. She bows her head slightly at you.
I am Zellara Chemska. Welcome to my home. Please, make yourselves comfortable.
She closes the door, then moves to the table and takes a seat. She produces her Harrow deck from a pocket and idly shuffles the cards. She starts to speak again in a soft but clear voice.
Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for he has done something terrible to each of you as well.
I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, a year ago, his thieves stole this, my harrow deck, from me.
Zellara shuffles the cards with expert fingers, not looking at them as they fly back and forth between her fingers in a blur.
It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When pickpockets stole it, my son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and in reward for finding them, Gaedren murdered my son.
Her voice catches and she stops for a moment, looking down.
I sought help from the guard, but they turned me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded—I found out where Gaedren dwells. He can be found in an old fishery north of here at Westpier 17, where he trains his abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures.
And now, I need your help. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard moves so slowly that if I were to go to them, Gaedren would certainly know of their coming well in advance. Even if they did arrest him—what guarantee would I have he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So there we are. It is time for him to pay. Will you help rid the world of this horrible man?
When Zellara has introduced herself and moves to close the door, Allyph returns to her seat. She removes her backpack from the chair next to her, may anyone wish to sit there.
Allyph patiently waits for Zellara to finish speaking, but starts frowning somewhere halfway the story.
How's she use her deck with six cards missing? Also, she wrote on them...
Her frown changes to an expression of anger as Zellara mentions Geadren Lamm, but soon confusion seems to be mixed in.
Eran her son? Wait, no, must be another one... Ah, yes, seems he is... was... someone else.
"I will", Allyph answers Zellara, after listening to the latter's request. "I cannot forgive that monster for all he's done. I'll kill him even if it means the end of me."
Fane takes a seat next to Cardon as Zellara sits down and begins her tale. Once she reveals Lamm's location, he is quickly back on his feet.
As she finishes her tale, Fane addresses her and gives a slight bow, "My dear Zellara, my condolences for your tragic loss.
Turning to the others he states, "The time for niceties is over. The bastard will pay this night for what he has done. Each of us has a score to settle with him. I think it only fitting what we go and take him down together. A debt of blood must be paid. Who is with me?
Intent on giving a lasting impression, Hadric drew himself up to his full height. "I am Hadric, son of Thorvald Gladden-Heart, from Trollheim. Until recently my wife and I ran a general store together in this city... but Lamm put an end to that with his conniving."
Turning to Tolen, Hadric laughs bitterly. "What does the Guard care about foreigners like me? No, friend, I only joined them when Kroft told the lot of us that she would hire anyone... and left the outfit after I learned that the milk-drinkers dared not even raise a sword-arm in order to protect an innocent woman. Justice is found at the end of your own sword, and I fain would have you suffer under the Guard's yoke as I had."
When Zellara finishes her tale, Hadric laughs heartily; his ice-cold eyes, however, cloud over somewhat with bloodlust.
"I swear upon my axe that I will see to it that Gaedren Lamm suffers for his crimes. And, well, I would not mind the company."
"An old fishery is his new hidey hole? Appropriate. He always was fishy."
As soon as Zellara gives the location of Gaedren Lamm, Eran rises and heads for the door. "We are wasting time. Gaedren Lamm dies this night."
WAIT! Zellara gets up from her seat raising an open hand to signal Eran to stop.
Gaedren is a dangerous man. He has survived for a long time despite having many enemies. He will not be defeated by impromptu actions.
She smiles at Eran. You remind me of my son. You share his name and temperament. Now he is dead.
Zellara motions for Eran to sit back down as she retakes her seat. If Gaedran is to be killed tonight, we must all help each other. I can not confront Gaedren with you, but I may be able to help in other ways.
She starts to shuffle her harrow deck again. This deck can foretell the future and warn of hazards for those who are willing to listen. Let me see your fate. It will be my contribution to our endeavors.
Seeing reluctance on Eran's face, she pleads, It will only take a few minutes. It is better to wait until dusk has completely fallen anyway. There will be less people in the streets.
She pushes the deck towards Eran. Think of your goal. Pick a card.
Eran stops, but does not return to his seat. When Zellara offers him the deck, the reluctance painted on his face changes to a look of determination. "My goal is to kill Gaedran Lemm." With that, he draws a card from the proffered deck.
Eran picks his card from the deck and turns it over. It shows a crowned rabbit holding a broken sword. The Rabbit Prince
This card is the key to the reading. It is the lens through which the rest of the cards are viewed. The Rabbit Prince is the card of battle—particularly apt for this evening, I see. A wry smile crosses Zellara’s lips.
She lays out nine cards in in a three-by-three pattern on the table. Eran's Harrow Reading
These cards tell your past, present, and future, she moves her hands up and down the three columns of cards, revealing the good, the bad, and the uncertain. She then moves her hands along the three rows.
Let’s start with your past. This card, she points at The Joke, misaligned as it is, reveals capricious treachery. You were betrayed by forces more powerful than you. To persevere required great fortitude, she points at The Brass Dwarf, but this card, indicating The Unicorn, is your true self, sacrificing much to help others. Your efforts did not completely defeat the treachery, but they kept it from getting worse.
Which brings us to the present. Zellara looks at The Avalanche and blanches. You are right to hurry! A disaster is eminent. She takes a closer look at the other two cards. But hold on, this card, The Dance, is about maintaining order so that good will prosper. When combined with The Liar misaligned, it shows that order can be served by an unlikely partnership. She looks around, smiling playfully, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an unlikely group as this!
Now for the future—what everyone’s most interested in. Zellara frowns. Hmm… This is for the future but not for tonight...
The Uprising will threaten all you hold dear. The Inquisitor is uncertain—truth and what is right will be hard to determine. The Mute Hag is normally a card of poisonous secrets, but in this placing it shows that loyalty and dedication to the truth will defeat evil.
Zellara looks slightly disappointed. I had hoped to provide you with foreknowledge of this evening, but I am afraid that the cards are strangely influenced tonight. Never mind, I have time to read each of your fates.
Who is next?
Hadric silently thumbs his card (The Uprising) in his belt pouch. Surely just a coincidence.
He stepped forward. "Can nine cards truly pierce the veil of the future like the owl-spirit? I ask you read my future, Zellara. For the death of Lamm."
Hadric maintained his composure as he reached for the first card. Hoping, wishing that the cards might clear the uncertainty of the present, his thoughts first turned to his wife, lying on threadbare sheets. What will become of Eleiana? How can I save her?
"If disaster is imminent, why do we sit here playing with cards?!"
"A Kellid friend of mine told me once to step first with your spear, lest you fall," scoffs Hadric. "Eran Förhastade, a wise woman has offered us sage advice about the future. What if there is information that can save a life? Would you throw away the lives of others with your rashness this easily?"
Tolen stands fascinated with the harrow reading. He's heard of it, but had never witnessed one. Eager he starts to ask for his, but is interrupted by Hadric. Tolen sits by watching Hadric's reading, and decides to look at his card once again. Going through his pockets, he finds it missing. Where has it gone? Did this woman take it without my knowing? Is this woman more witch than fortune teller?