Flavia shakes her head, grinning at Enard and Savendir. "Doubters. You must have faith. The gods speak to us somehow, right? Why not through a crone using cards? It's as good a way as any." She winks at Rokuro.
“I’m willing to have a look,” says Enard.
"Excellent," Flavia chuckles. "Afterwards, we can discover how well you fine gentlemen can dance. The sound of Varisian fiddles and lutes always gets my feet itchy."
"Since you've done this before, you can go first, Rokuro." Flavia happily tosses a companion under the haywagon.
Matsumoto, Enard, Savendir, Flavia and Mason approach Madame Parasca's wagon. A thin, middle aged gentleman sits on a stool near the entrance of the wagon as evidenced by the crude steps fashioned in front of the door. He watches you approach. As you get near, he raises his hand. "Madame Parasca has been waiting for you. It is good that that now you have come. Please wait for a moment as she is in counsel with another." He looks straight at Rokuro, "I believe you have been chosen to go first, yes?"
Before Rokuro can answer, the door opens and a tall man, thin, but well-muscled emerges. His greasy blond hair hangs just past his ears, and his watery blue eyes, perpetually red nose, and dirty skin give his face the the bleary look of a homeless drunkard. He gazes at you all for a moment, as if he knows you from somewhere. He then continues past, and stands about 15 feet away.
In Madame Parasca's wagon, she reads your fortune.
"First, the cards reveals your past." She lays out three cards, end to end in one column, The Winged Serpent, followed by The Twin, followed by The Hidden Truth. She stares intently at the The Winged Serpent, "Instinct has been your strength, you always knew when to strike the final blow." Looking at The Twin she says, "You speak of one thing, but your heart knows what is right." Finally, she points to the The Hidden Truth, "The source of your strength is hidden beneath your skin."
"Now, let us look at your present." She to the right of the first column, she lays out 3 more cards. The Survivor, The Midwife, and the The Rakshasa. She studies the three cards for a moment and looks up at you, "A group in this camp is embarking on a dangerous journey, but they will be lose one of their own who must follow another path for now. Join them, you will be reborn and it will bring you a new life. But beware of forces that will try to dominate you."
She turns back to her deck, and begins dealing the final three cards. "This is your future." She deals another column of cards. The Queen Mother, The Eclipse, and The Peacock. "Hmmmm, these cards do not speak loudly to me. Your future is cloudy, but I see one thing. Beware of losing your purpose."
The man watches the previous customer pass, and then turns his attention back to you. "The normal fee for Madame Parasca is 50 silver pieces. But she has seen great purpose in you. She will see you for the small price of 10 silver pieces each. You may enter one at a time as you are ready."
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimness of the the wagon. It is illuminated by a single candle on a small table. A woman in the prime of her year's sits before you. She motions to you sit down and without word begins to read your fortune.
"First, the cards reveals your past." She lays out three cards, end to end in one column, The Sickness, followed by the The Mountain Man, followed by The Mute Hag. She stares intently at the The Mountain Man, "An external power from your past still seeks you" Looking at The Mute Hag she says, "Those you thought friends have dark secrets."
"Now, let us look at your present." She to the right of the first column, she lays out 3 more cards. The Snakebite, The Winged Serpent, and The Teamster. She studies the three cards for a moment and looks up at you, "You are being driven to seek some goal."
She turns back to her deck, and begins dealing the final three cards. "This is your future." She deals another column of cards. The Peacock, The Eclipse, and The Owl. "Hmmmm, these cards do not speak loudly to me. Your future is cloudy, but beware of losing your purpose. Take comfort in the one attuned to the natural order of things."
Flavia looks at the others once Rokuro goes inside. "How did he know?" she asks quietly, (hopefully) outside of earshot of the maitre'd'wagon.
When Rokuro comes out, she looks to see if he is shaken up at all. If not, she pipes up, "I'll go next, if you guys don't mind."
Corvin stares warily at the small group gathered around the harrower's wagon, arms crossed over his long, travel-stained cloak.
Creepy old bag. Part o' me reckons she knows more than I do about myself, and part o' me thinks she don't know nothin' from nothin'. What the hells does she mean, "lose my purpose." F~!%ed if I know...
He edges slightly closer to the group, casting sidelong glances at the small woman and the tall, dark-haired man standing close to the wagon. Appearing to come to some sort of decision, he spits noisily onto the ground and walks up to the young woman.
"So. Y'all headed somewhere, I take it?"
"Fifty silver pieces?" Enard stifles a choke.
"No, we're spending the night at this roadside gypsy caravan in the middle of nowhere for our health," the tall dark haired Chelaxian answers the drunkard mildly. "You?"
Savendir raises his eyebrows at Enard's provocation of the stranger, but waits to guage the man's reaction. His sharp elven eyes appraise the stranger carefully.
Flavia smiles winningly at the stranger as she steps on Enard's foot. "Aren't we all headed somewhere, friend? This seems as good a place as any to rest on that journey, particularly since we've had some unpleasantness at other places. Why, we had to kill a half-dozen bandits who had the nerve to attack us at a shrine of Desna! Have you ever heard of such gall? Then there's the wolves and crocodiles and... oh, why does every road have to be decorated with a trail of bodies?" She sighs and shakes her head sadly. "We're hoping to avoid that by staying here tonight. And what about you, sir? Did you find Madama Parasca's advice useful on your own journey?"
"Ow!"
Flavia smiles winningly at the stranger as she steps on Enard's foot. "Aren't we all headed somewhere, friend? This seems as good a place as any to rest on that journey, particularly since we've had some unpleasantness at other places. Why, we had to kill a half-dozen bandits who had the nerve to attack us at a shrine of Desna! Have you ever heard of such gall? Then there's the wolves and crocodiles and... oh, why does every road have to be decorated with a trail of bodies?" She sighs and shakes her head sadly. "We're hoping to avoid that by staying here tonight. And what about you, sir? Did you find Madama Parasca's advice useful on your own journey?"
Corvin looks blearily at the small woman, unused to her smile and use of the word 'friend.' He uncrosses his arms and withdraws them into the folds of his voluminous cloak.
"Bandits with galls, eh?"
He trails off, clears his throat, then comes back to a different part of the conversation altogether.
"Found the old lady's advice more confusing than anythin' else. Somethin' about a cloudy future and rebirth and some other s*#!. You been in to see her yet?"
"Ow!"
At Enard's cry of pain, Corvin ducks slightly, looking about for the source of some imagined projectile.
"No, one of our company is in with her now. Guess I'll go next." Flavia sighs. "Sounds like a lot of mumbo-jumbo. It meant nothing to you? At least we get a discount, Enard. 10 silver down from 50. What a bargain!"
"She gave you the discount too? Ain't that strange. And here I was thinkin' I was special..."
"Yeah, 'discount.' I'm certain every single one of her clients is special," Flavia grins at the tall guy.
Matsumoto emerges from the wagon deep in thought as you converse with the stranger. Flavia hands the man her 10 silver pieces. "Madame Parasca does shine her favor on you this night." whispers the man as he takes Flavia's money. "She does not extend this courtesy to everyone. Take special heed of her words."
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimness of the the wagon. It is illuminated by a single candle on a small table. A young woman similar to your age sits before you. She motions to you to sit down and without word begins to read your fortune.
"First, the cards reveals your past." She lays out three cards, end to end in one column, The Rakshasa, followed by The Joke, followed by The Unicorn. She stares intently at The Unicorn, "You're past friends were untrustworthy." She points to The Rakshasa, "Good, you were able to shake off their enslavement of your true nature."
"Now, let us look at your present." To the right of the first column, she lays out 3 more cards. The Lost, The Rabbit Prince, and The Avalanche. She studies the three cards for a moment and looks up at you, "When you fight, you are subject to impulsiveness or whim. Beware, it may not serve you well in the face of unrelenting, unthinking disaster."
She turns back to her deck, and begins dealing the final three cards. "This is your future." She deals another column of cards. The Cyclone, The Owl, and The Fiend. "Fear not, you will be renewed by blustery trial. Take wisdom from the natural order of things in the face of many losses due to terrible affliction."
"Oh yes, we're special," says Enard, balancing on one leg to rub the toes of his other foot through the leather of his boot. He rolls his eyes at Flavia as she heads into the tent. "But I have to admit, my curiosity is piqued. I'll go." He carefully chooses ten silver coins from his pouch and gets ready to give them to the attendant when it's his turn.
Flavia regards the woman curiously. "Excuse me for staring. I expected somebody much older. I thank you for the advice, Madame Parasca. But are you... are you certain it was my past friends who were untrustworthy, and not...myself? I mean, they seemed fine. I guess."
Savendir waits patiently, trying to gauge the reactions of those who have seen Madame Parasca.
"No need to apologize dear. I am just the path by which truth may pour from one's heart. I appear in a manner that most allows that truth to emerge. As to your other question, the cards see the inner truth. Past actions may have tarnished your nature, but this quest may strip the stains away and allow your real nature to shine forth."
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimness of the the wagon. It is illuminated by a single candle on a small table. An obese, middle aged woman sits before you. She motions to you to sit down and without word begins to read your fortune.
"First, the cards reveals your past." She lays out three cards, end to end in one column, The Teamster, followed by The Mountain Man, followed by The Wanderer. She stares intently at The Mountain Man, "A powerful force corrupted your father."
"Now, let us look at your present." To the right of the first column, she lays out 3 more cards. The Unicorn, The Dance, and The Paladin. She studies the three cards for a moment and looks up at you, "What you sought is yours now. You have stayed in harmony with its wishes, but beware, standing fast may be foolhardy."
She turns back to her deck, and begins dealing the final three cards. "This is your future." She deals another column of cards. The Big Sky, The Twin, and The Vision. "An object you have has great arcane knowledge, but its purpose may be twofold. Embrace your journey, it will free you from the bondage of the past."
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimness of the the wagon. It is illuminated by a single candle on a small table. A thin, middle aged elven woman sits before you. Her youthful look belies her years. She motions to you to sit down and without word begins to read your fortune.
"First, the cards reveals your past." She lays out three cards, end to end in one column, The Winged Serpent, followed by The Avalanche, followed by The Mute Hag. She studies the cards intently, "In the face of unrelenting misery, you cleansed the forest and made it bloom again. Extraordinary given the vile seed from which you sprang."
"Now, let us look at your present." To the right of the first column, she lays out 3 more cards. The Inquistor, The Brass Dwarf, and The Peacock. She studies the three cards for a moment and looks up at you, "Your skills and your heart will serve you well against the evil you will face, though it may produce a profound change in you."
She turns back to her deck, and begins dealing the final three cards. "This is your future." She deals another column of cards. The Publican, The Big Sky, and The Desert. "The others that accompany you will find strength in your connection to nature. Though the journey may seem hopeless, stay true for you will free a great many from bondage."
"That was.. interesting," Flavia says thoughtfully when she emerges from the wagon. "She is so much younger than I expected. As to what she said, I don't know." She waits for the rest of the party to visit the wagon, looking unusually pensive the entire time.
Savendir comes out of the wagon with a pensive look. "I thought you said she looked young," he says to Flavia. "We elves hide our years well."
"I don't know what you two have been drinking, but she ain't no elf. And she ain't young-lookin' neither."
"She's as human as me, Savendir. She's about my age, sir, and I'm not a crone yet, thank you!"
"Your human senses are dull. She is an elf of 300 years at least," Savendir says with certainty.
“What?” Enard looks at the others like they’re mad. “She was human, and old enough to be my mother at least ... and fat enough to be all our mo – ah, never mind. Obviously we’ve been subjected to what they call ‘the old switcheroo’ – or a clever disguise. Don’t know why they gave me the fat one though ... A technique to keep us off guard, or have us wonder at the meaning and mysticism of it all.”
He glances around at the others. “What of the readings themselves? Did anyone learn anything of import? Maybe I’m just cynical,” he throws a glance at Flavia and moves his foot out of stomping range, “but I thought it was all non-specific enough that I could make what links I wished of it. Well ... of the ‘past’ and ‘future’ there were some things that could perhaps relate more specifically to my situation,” Enard frowns in momentary contemplation, “but nothing that could not have been deduced by a keen observer, or a little research.”
"From what she told me," Savendir says with hesitation, "she either has legitimate powers of divination or incredibly thorough spies."
Flavia grins at Endard. "Maybe she was afraid you'd try to seduce her were she a young and comely maid? But no matter, it is as you say. I know not what illusions were at work, but we did not see the same thing. As for what we heard, well... it seemed.. personal. I don't know what to think. Throwing out hints may be enough to let customers draw their own conclusions. The only thing I could see specific to our case was... you!" She points at Savendir.
Enard half smiles at Flavia’s comment in regards to a younger Harrower, then raises an eyebrow when she points to Savendir. “What do you mean?” he asks, then looks to the elf. “Well, you obviously put some store in the powers of divination at work here?”
"She said to rely on the natural order, or something like that. That's you, Savendir."
"That sounds vague, Flavia. But it could be."
"There are plenty of wizards in the world who can tell a man about his past or present; perhaps she even scried us as we approached. Telling the future, on the other hand, is a difficult prospect. That part of the story has yet to be told, and I put little stock in those who suggest otherwise."
"If there is any truth in the cards - if shades of the future can be discerned from the entwined threads of the present - I take comfort in the suggestion that the work ahead may promote the welfare of many people."
"But at what cost," Flavia mutters, "'Many losses, terrible afflictions.' The whirlwind is coming, if what she says is true."
“Well ... even if there is some accuracy to the divinations, nothing is set in stone,” Enard shrugs. “The sages call this time The Age of Lost Omens ... prophecies are broken and divinations can’t be relied on. Best we can do is get a good night’s sleep to face whatever lies ahead.”
"Ha! I knew you couldn't dance. Go get some rest, then, while us young folks have fun." Flavia heads for the sound of the nearest dance music.
"Y'all's mouths seem to be movin', but I can't figure a word. All I know is that I wasted ten crowns for a bunch o' gibberish."
Enard looks at the drunkard. “Who are you again?” he asks. “I tend to agree with you though stranger ... money could have been better spent.”
Enard looks at the drunkard. “Who are you again?” he asks. “I tend to agree with you though stranger ... money could have been better spent.”
Corvin clears his throat and spits.
"Name's Corvin Killgannon. I kill things for money."
He extends a hand to shake. The hand, the only part of the man other than his head not covered by his long, stained cloak, is encased in a rusty steel gauntlet studded with inch-long, blood-encrusted spikes.
"How's about we get some alcohol and talk thrillin' heroics?"
Corvin grins, showing several gold teeth.
“I’ll bet that line works wonders with the ladies,” comments Enard, looking with horrified fascination at the man’s gory and ill-kept hardware. “Are you currently being paid to kill things Mister Killgannon?”
“I’ll bet that line works wonders with the ladies,” comments Enard, looking with horrified fascination at the man’s gory and ill-kept hardware.
Corvin winces slightly at this comment, but his lopsided grin returns.
“Are you currently being paid to kill things Mister Killgannon?”
"Not as of yet. Lookin' for work. Actually, I was thinkin' of goin' solo for a while, keepin' my eye out for gold along the way. Lady in the wagon told me I should follow the lot o' you, and I've half a mind to do so."
"Is that right? Well ... We're headed out to Sirathu. They say there's been lots of disappearances out there of late, some nefarious goings on no doubt. There's a good chance you'd find work out there up your alley. You can travel with us if you want."
Enard's longer term companions may be surprised at this unexpected generosity ... And its too dark to see the calculated look in his eye.
"I'm Enard. And sure, let's get that drink."
"Savendir Inaris," the fair-haired elf introduces himself to Corvin. "While I feel our mission is of great import for the safety of the region, our investigation is supported by a wealthy patron, so perhaps there will be some coin in it for you."
"I'm Enard. And sure, let's get that drink."
"Fair 'nough. You're buying."
"Savendir Inaris," the fair-haired elf introduces himself to Corvin. "While I feel our mission is of great import for the safety of the region, our investigation is supported by a wealthy patron, so perhaps there will be some coin in it for you."
Corvin extends his mailed hand.
"I traveled with an elf once. He was good folks. Weird, though. And coin is always good."