Drabardi Adria's page

Drabardi's concern for the fleeing woman is somewhat abated by the sound of his friend's voice. "Something? No, someone. Nothing too important though, just a strange customer."

He listens to her intently, but can't help but let his mind wander as she regales the tale. "This is poor news," he remarks, "but good news to know of. Are there any other goings-on I should be aware of? Perhaps I can purchase you a drink while we discuss it." His mission is threefold. While he is interested in the news she has to offer, he is also interested in spending quality time with her; and if he happens to see that woman again, he just might confront her.

Drabardi keeps his eyes fixed on her as he locks the door behind him, and then hurries after her. 'Why is she running? Why am I bothering to chase her?' he wondered as he tried to keep track of her in the swarming crowd.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Drabardi is taken aback by her reaction. It was an unpleasant fortune for sure, but nothing to throw a fit over. Sinking back into his chair, his eyes fix on the misaligned Theater card. 'What are you trying to tell me?' he begs. Something in him urges him to follow the woman, but he is unsure why. 'Just a disgruntled customer,' he thinks, 'And yet...'

Leaping up from his chair, he scoops up his cards in one quick motion and straightens them out as he heads toward the door. Peering just out the doorway, he looks in each direction to see if the woman is still in sight.

"This is no ordinary deck of cards, you see. They have been supernaturally infused with the power to reveal your fate by generations of those like myself," he adds as she shuffles. Taking the deck, Drabardi begins placing nine cards in a facedown 3x3 grid in such a way that the bottoms of the cards are facing the woman and the tops of the cards are facing him. He then begins to flip them over and discern their relevance.

After some careful consideration, he begins to flip some cards back over.

"Now, this column pertains to your past," he says, pointing at the column on her left (his right). "This is not what you wished to know, but the past can give insight to the future. I see that you were once beholden to someone; perhaps not out of love, but necessity. The laws of this land tend to be rather binding. It seems you are not rid of this person, but that you are no longer bound by their rule."

"This column is your present; the next step to discerning your future," he continues, moving his index finger to the center column. Suddenly, he frowns, realizing that the cards are playing him a fool. 'The Theater is misaligned; the sign of a false prophecy. Do even my own cards doubt me?' Regaining his composure, he focuses his attention on interpreting the other card in the column. "You have reached a sort of equilibrium in your life. It is not without its sacrifices, but you benefit in turn. Although things that affect you may be beyond your control, you are dealing with them amicably."

"And for the future..." he trails off, finger following his gaze to the last column on her right (his left). "Impudence shall be your downfall. Grand dreams are naught but illusions, and chasing what you cannot reach will result in your suffering. A grim, foolhardy fate. But with this foresight, you have the opportunity to avoid such mistakes. Stay within your bounds and retain your stasis in order to live happily."

Finished with his reading but a bit frazzled by its results, Drabardi eyes the woman warily. Hopefully, this is what she wanted to hear.

Drabardi chuckles softly at her directness, but finds it a little unsettling. The crystal ball at the edge of his desk is usually reserved for people who are more easily read and impressed. He can tell that she is playing her cards close and challenging him, and so he decides he shall put his cards out on the table. "You seem like one who has more interest in detail than the cryptic visions of that bauble. Please, take these cards and shuffle them until you are satisfied, and your future shall be revealed to me." At this, he hands her his deck of harrow cards and waits patiently.

Drabardi is startled from his mealtime musings by the sudden appearance of this new customer. 'No trouble,' he thinks, 'I can do with an extra coin for today.' Her inquiry is the same as many others before her, and he responds in kind with his signature slogan, "As sure as the sun shall rise in the morn', my dear. Please, have a seat if you wish to know of it." After gesturing to the gaudy-but-exquisite armchair in front of his desk, he pushes forward a small, wooden box with the words 'The Cost of Foresight: 1 Silver' etched into it and tidies his ornate, silken harrowing mat.

This is Rorrix's submission. Let me know if you have any questions.