Beryl stood, breathing heavily, before a pile of smoldering ashes that had, until recently, been a particularly aggressive fox ninja would had been trying to kill her. She hadn't wanted to kill him back, but she had been left with no alternative. As she stared down at his remains with her saddened eye, she felt the fiery air grow suddenly cold. A breeze sprang up suddenly, and the ashes blew away as Beryl was forced to wrap her arms around herself to fight off the chill.
"I sense great strength in you," a sudden, haunting voice said from behind the planeswalker. Beryl jumped, not just at the unexpected words, but at something hidden deep beneath them. Beryl turned around and found a strange woman staring at her. She was tall, beautiful, and frightening, with an otherworld glow to her skin, boney protrusions from her jawline, and darkness in her eyes.
"Who are you?" Beryl asked, frightened and intrigued.
"I am a seeker of strength," the woman said. "I can provide a home, a family, for those who possess it."
"And what if I don't want it?"
The other woman stared at Beryl intently for a long time, but Beryl held her gaze, a fire burning in her eye. Finally, the other woman smiled. "There is a great darkness coming. Only the strong will survive, and alone, not even them. Join me, Beryl, and we shall survive together in the dark."
But Beryl shook her head, and thought, as she often did, of Aloise. "I'm strong," Beryl said with a confidence she only barely recognized. "And I have a light stronger than any darkness."
Again the woman stared, but when Beryl would not back down, she shrugged, which for her was only a slight toss of her head to one side. "My name is Yeong Eode. Should you ever change your mind..."
"I won't."
Yeong Eode hesitated, then nodded once, slowly. "Very well, Beryl. While you can, enjoy your light."
Without another word, the woman vanished, and Beryl nodded. "I will."
Yeah, Raiker's not the nicest guy in the Multiverse. Although, your chosen quotation her revealed an error. Raiker would never say "Let's". Oh, well, it's non-canon.
Yeah, but that contraction doesn't expand as well as most. Perhaps "Shall we" is a better alternative, though it turns the line into a question.
Neat! I think you got Orida pretty perfect here (although I actually hadn't considered that she might think she were dead.) I love the visual of her leaning against the Doom Clapper.
With Penelophine, though, I don't really see her panicking like that, even if she knew what Ythol meant and who, historically, hung out there. I can see her leaving somewhat quickly, sure, but not so much the panic.
Good point. In my head, she was more horrified than panicked, and more running toward something than away, but what I wrote doesn't convey that well. And you're right, the response should have been more subdued. Feel free to revise and expand, if you like.
Also good stuff. It's unfortunate that Nas is, so far, only telling Lukas what Lukas already knows, but that's the nature of these sort of readings.
Yep; that can happen when you ask the wrong question. I feel like a second reading could yield a clue about where to find this demon, now that the big picture has been established.
For whatever reason, I still like the headcanon thought that Aloise is a big fan of Raiker's work...
Heh. She'll stop enjoying it when she learns what it really means.
Quote:
Madame du Collet meets Larasa Farleth.
Spoiler
When her name was called, Larasa squeezed Morgan's hand before standing up, and looked back just enough to see his reassuring smile.
"The Grand Magistrate summons you," an armored bailiff said, gesturing toward a vaulted door.
Larasa followed him into an excessively opulent chamber, in which sat a single severe woman. The ropes on her black jacket suggested a uniform, but one very unlike that of the guards who had arrested Larasa and Morgan the previous day. The guards, at least, hadn't looked like they intended to hang everyone in sight.
The magistrate looked down at the parchment on her desk. "Larasa Farleth, historian. You are charged with inciting rebellion—"
"Wait, what? We were just collecting stories."
The judge glared. "Stories of Adele the Imposter, of Marquis Vivienne Archambault, and of Fernand Courtemanche? Violent criminals, all. And you, calling yourself a historian, do not see how that would upset the people you ask? How they would upset the Baroness?" She sat back, taking a deep breath, before continuing. "Furthermore, you are charged with performing magecraft within—"
"Magecraft? You mean the well? They were thirsty! How do you expect—"
"Nevertheless, within a public square, with neither permit nor patron, such magecraft would normally be fined. However, combined with your treason—"
"Treason?" Larasa's voice had gone a bit shrill.
The magistrate stood, pointing at the chair next to Larasa. "Sit!"
"That's it!" Larasa turned around, startling the bailiff at the doorway. "Morgan! We're leaving!"
"Stop!" commanded the judge. "Larasa Farleth, I find you guilty of—"
Vicomtesse Perrine Labelle stopped short, interrupted not by another question from the accused, but by her disappearance. She seethed at the empty space before issuing one more command through gritted teeth. "Find her."
Quote:
Kirsh of the Flats meets Kimberley Talon.
Spoiler
Kirsh looked up as the pale figure walked in. A kor, here? But the young woman in his arms required more attention at the moment. "What happened?"
"Training accident." The kor's voice was soft, deep, and clipped. "Can you fix it?"
When her name was called, Larasa squeezed Morgan's hand before standing up, and looked back just enough to see his reassuring smile.
"The Grand Magistrate summons you," an armored bailiff said, gesturing toward a vaulted door.
Larasa followed him into an excessively opulent chamber, in which sat a single severe woman. The ropes on her black jacket suggested a uniform, but one very unlike that of the guards who had arrested Larasa and Morgan the previous day. The guards, at least, hadn't looked like they intended to hang everyone in sight.
The magistrate looked down at the parchment on her desk. "Larasa Farleth, historian. You are charged with inciting rebellion—"
"Wait, what? We were just collecting stories."
The judge glared. "Stories of Adele the Imposter, of Marquis Vivienne Archambault, and of Fernand Courtemanche? Violent criminals, all. And you, calling yourself a historian, do not see how that would upset the people you ask? How they would upset the Baroness?" She sat back, taking a deep breath, before continuing. "Furthermore, you are charged with performing magecraft within—"
"Magecraft? You mean the well? They were thirsty! How do you expect—"
"Nevertheless, within a public square, with neither permit nor patron, such magecraft would normally be fined. However, combined with your treason—"
"Treason?" Larasa's voice had gone a bit shrill.
The magistrate stood, pointing at the chair next to Larasa. "Sit!"
"That's it!" Larasa turned around, startling the bailiff at the doorway. "Morgan! We're leaving!"
"Stop!" commanded the judge. "Larasa Farleth, I find you guilty of—"
Vicomtesse Perrine Labelle stopped short, interrupted not by another question from the accused, but by her disappearance. She seethed at the empty space before issuing one more command through gritted teeth. "Find her."
I like it! This vindicates my decision to include some of our planar legends in the list, rather than just planeswalkers. Of course, inevitably, we will eventually get things that make no sense, like Vocal Henri meeting Jackie or something, but still, awesome!
Beryl stood, breathing heavily, before a pile of smoldering ashes that had, until recently, been a particularly aggressive fox ninja would had been trying to kill her. She hadn't wanted to kill him back, but she had been left with no alternative. As she stared down at his remains with her saddened eye, she felt the fiery air grow suddenly cold. A breeze sprang up suddenly, and the ashes blew away as Beryl was forced to wrap her arms around herself to fight off the chill.
"I sense great strength in you," a sudden, haunting voice said from behind the planeswalker. Beryl jumped, not just at the unexpected words, but at something hidden deep beneath them. Beryl turned around and found a strange woman staring at her. She was tall, beautiful, and frightening, with an otherworld glow to her skin, boney protrusions from her jawline, and darkness in her eyes.
"Who are you?" Beryl asked, frightened and intrigued.
"I am a seeker of strength," the woman said. "I can provide a home, a family, for those who possess it."
"And what if I don't want it?"
The other woman stared at Beryl intently for a long time, but Beryl held her gaze, a fire burning in her eye. Finally, the other woman smiled. "There is a great darkness coming. Only the strong will survive, and alone, not even them. Join me, Beryl, and we shall survive together in the dark."
But Beryl shook her head, and thought, as she often did, of Aloise. "I'm strong," Beryl said with a confidence she only barely recognized. "And I have a light stronger than any darkness."
Again the woman stared, but when Beryl would not back down, she shrugged, which for her was only a slight toss of her head to one side. "My name is Yeong Eode. Should you ever change your mind..."
"I won't."
Yeong Eode hesitated, then nodded once, slowly. "Very well, Beryl. While you can, enjoy your light."
Without another word, the woman vanished, and Beryl nodded. "I will."
Shivers. Very cool!
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
First Raiker, and now Chardis? Wow, Jade. I'm so sorry.
Quote:
Syl of the Dual-Walkers and Gale run into one another.
First Raiker, then Blink, and now Syl? Wow, Gale. I'm so, so sorry...
Quote:
Penelophine meets Beryl, the Heart-Scarred.
The Light of the Fire
Penelophine stood staring with sorrowful eyes at the sight before her. Years ago, mere hours ago, in fact, it had been the courtyard of a quaint inn that had stood for centuries, run by one after another in the line of a proud family of good people. In the center of the courtyard, there had stood a marvelous fountain carved from a massive tree from the forest nearby. Now, however, the fountain, the inn, and all around it were ablaze, and the Siren's attempts to subdue the flames with her water magic were ineffective. All she could do was look on, and suppress her tears.
Suddenly, a figure strode through the flames, her very form glaring white within the fire. Penelophine turned her gaze away as the immerging woman moved toward her. The Siren could not see through the glare as the other woman spoke.
"Are you one of them, too?"
Penelophine shook her head. "I do not know who 'they' are, but I am confident I am not one."
The fiery woman hesitated for a long moment, and then the flames surrounding her seemed to die down. Finally, Penelophine was able to see her face. It was scarred on one side, and one eye was white and ineffectual. In her other eye, though, there was a fierce determination that reminded the Siren of the looks she had seen in the faces of the Amphiseum combatants centuries earlier. The scarred woman set her jaw and spoke again.
"You're not one of Daeragon's lackeys?"
"I have never heard of this person."
The woman stared for a long moment, then nodded, and moved to walk past Penelophine. As the pyromancer drew even with her, Penelophine spoke, he voice soft and musical, her eyes still staring at the burning inn.
"Was this conflagration your doing?"
The other woman stopped in her tracks. After a long pause, she hung her head. "They left me no choice."
"I have heard such reasoning before," the Siren said sadly.
The other woman turned to looked at Penelophine. Penelophine did not look back. "It's always the same," she began. "Everywhere I go, on every world I've been to, everyone does two things. They judge me, and they try to take everything I have! Well, I'm done with it! Daeragon's gone too far! He's taken the only thing that matters, and I WILL get her back! I am Beryl Trevanei, and I will not be denied!"
Penelophine turned then to look at the other woman. "You 'walk the plane as well." It was not a question. "I once believed all those who carried the Spark were monsters." She turned back to stare at the fire. "Myself included. I had hoped the monsters had died off with the Spark's weakening. But perhaps I was right. Perhaps we are all monsters."
Beryl turned back to look at the inn, the inn she had set ablaze in her battle with Daeragon's men. She hung her head. "Not all of us. There's one who isn't," she paused, a tear coming to her good eye. "One who makes me better than a monster, too."
Penelophine looked over at the other woman. "The one you week?"
Beryl merely nodded.
Penelophine mirrored the motion. "Then perhaps we should go find her."
Beryl looked over at the Siren. "You want to help?"
"If she is no monster, then she is worth saving," Penelophine said. "And if you are no monster when you are with her, then so are you." They stood in silence for a long moment, before Penelophine lowered her head again. "And perhaps, there is time yet to save myself."
Quote:
Orida Vise encounters Cyrryc Adda.
Fears and Vise's
Orida Vise burst through the tunnel's exit and checked the end of the Doom Clapper. She had expected to see the tip stained and dripping with reptilian blood, but it was perfectly clean. She was breathing heavily, but even as she struggled to catch her breath, she had to marvel at the strange artifact she bore. She had probably killed a hundred snakes in that accursed tunnel, but just like the scarecrows back on Cartrevard, the Doom Clapper seemed to utterly and completely destroy anything it struck. The snakes had merely vanished in a puff of death.
Yet they had kept coming. There seemed to be no end to them, and them seemed to come from every direction. Orida had always been afraid of snakes, but they had rarely been a problem in the city. Here, though, on this strange plane, and in this strange tunnel system, they were endless, and Orida was getting frustrated.
"Why do you interrupt my work?" A voice sounded in the half-darkened chamber.
Orida's head snapped in the direction of the voice, but the speaker was shrouded in shadows. "Who the **** are you?"
The voice scoffed. "You came to me. Who are you?"
"I'm Orida Vise, that's who the **** I am. And I've got a very big, very dangerous weapon here, so maybe you should answer my first **** question."
The voice scoffed again. "You have quite the tongue, young lady." The voice laughed slightly. "But then again, I do, too."
"Yeah, well, I'll tell you where you can stick that tongue in a minute. Get the **** out here and tell me who the **** you are!"
"Very well, impudent one," a form began to appear from the shadows. "I am Cyrryc Adda."
On the "C" sound, Adda elongated the syllable into a reptilian hiss, which seemed to emphasis his form as he slithered into the artificial light.
"Dammit! You're a snake, too!" Orida said, growing angry. She clutched the handle of the Doom Clapper tightly and crouched down into an aggressive stance. "I have had it with these mother **** snakes on this mother **** plane!"
Last edited by RavenoftheBlack on Mon Aug 05, 2019 5:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Based "Seek and you shall find," I wonder how a meeting between Verak and Tey'von might go. Tey'von seems like someone that's very earnest in his faith, someone that tempers action with plenty of forethought. Verak, on the other end of the spectrum, is more someone that looks at his faith in the Red God as a kind of insurance policy and he's far quicker on the trigger. I'll keep this idea in mind as I continue working on Verak.
Orida Vise burst through the tunnel's exit and checked the end of the Doom Clapper. She had expected to see the tip stained and dripping with reptilian blood, but it was perfectly clean. She was breathing heavily, but even as she struggled to catch her breath, she had to marvel at the strange artifact she bore. She had probably killed a hundred snakes in that accursed tunnel, but just like the scarecrows back on Cartrevard, the Doom Clapper seemed to utterly and completely destroy anything it struck. The snakes had merely vanished in a buff of death.
Yet they had kept coming. There seemed to be no end to them, and them seemed to come from every direction. Orida had always been afraid of snakes, but they had rarely been a problem in the city. Here, though, on this strange plane, and in this strange tunnel system, they were endless, and Orida was getting frustrated.
"Why do you interrupt my work?" A voice sounded in the half-darkened chamber.
Orida's head snapped in the direction of the voice, but the speaker was shrouded in shadows. "Who the **** are you?"
The voice scoffed. "You came to me. Who are you?"
"I'm Orida Vise, that's who the **** I am. And I've got a very big, very dangerous weapon here, so maybe you should answer my first **** question."
The voice scoffed again. You have quite the tongue, young lady." The voice laughed slightly. "But then again, I do, too."
"Yeah, well, I'll tell you where you can stick that tongue in a minute. Get the **** out here and tell me who the **** you are!"
"Very well, impudent one," a form began to appear from the shadows. "I am Cyrryc Adda."
On the "C" sound, Adda elongated the syllable into a reptilian hiss, which seemed to emphasis his form as he slithered into the artificial light.
"Dammit! You're a snake, too!" Orida said, growing angry. She clutched the handle of the Doom Clapper tightly and crouched down into an aggressive stance. "I have had it with these mother **** snakes on this mother **** plane!"
*"To YMTC it up" means to design cards that have value mostly from a design perspective. i.e. you would put them in a case under glass in your living room and visitors could remark upon the wonderful design principles, with nobody ever worring if the cards are annoying/pointless/confusing in actual play
Orida Vise burst through the tunnel's exit and checked the end of the Doom Clapper. She had expected to see the tip stained and dripping with reptilian blood, but it was perfectly clean. She was breathing heavily, but even as she struggled to catch her breath, she had to marvel at the strange artifact she bore. She had probably killed a hundred snakes in that accursed tunnel, but just like the scarecrows back on Cartrevard, the Doom Clapper seemed to utterly and completely destroy anything it struck. The snakes had merely vanished in a buff of death.
Yet they had kept coming. There seemed to be no end to them, and them seemed to come from every direction. Orida had always been afraid of snakes, but they had rarely been a problem in the city. Here, though, on this strange plane, and in this strange tunnel system, they were endless, and Orida was getting frustrated.
"Why do you interrupt my work?" A voice sounded in the half-darkened chamber.
Orida's head snapped in the direction of the voice, but the speaker was shrouded in shadows. "Who the **** are you?"
The voice scoffed. "You came to me. Who are you?"
"I'm Orida Vise, that's who the **** I am. And I've got a very big, very dangerous weapon here, so maybe you should answer my first **** question."
The voice scoffed again. You have quite the tongue, young lady." The voice laughed slightly. "But then again, I do, too."
"Yeah, well, I'll tell you where you can stick that tongue in a minute. Get the **** out here and tell me who the **** you are!"
"Very well, impudent one," a form began to appear from the shadows. "I am Cyrryc Adda."
On the "C" sound, Adda elongated the syllable into a reptilian hiss, which seemed to emphasis his form as he slithered into the artificial light.
"Dammit! You're a snake, too!" Orida said, growing angry. She clutched the handle of the Doom Clapper tightly and crouched down into an aggressive stance. "I have had it with these mother **** snakes on this mother **** plane!"
Penelophine stood staring with sorrowful eyes at the sight before her. Years ago, mere hours ago, in fact, it had been the courtyard of a quaint inn that had stood for centuries, run by one after another in the line of a proud family of good people. In the center of the courtyard, there had stood a marvelous fountain carved from a massive tree from the forest nearby. Now, however, the fountain, the inn, and all around it were ablaze, and the Siren's attempts to subdue the flames with her water magic were ineffective. All she could do was look on, and suppress her tears.
Suddenly, a figure strode through the flames, her very form glaring white within the fire. Penelophine turned her gaze away as the immerging woman moved toward her. The Siren could not see through the glare as the other woman spoke.
"Are you one of them, too?"
Penelophine shook her head. "I do not know who 'they' are, but I am confident I am not one."
The fiery woman hesitated for a long moment, and then the flames surrounding her seemed to die down. Finally, Penelophine was able to see her face. It was scarred on one side, and one eye was white and ineffectual. In her other eye, though, there was a fierce determination that reminded the Siren of the looks she had seen in the faces of the Amphiseum combatants centuries earlier. The scarred woman set her jaw and spoke again.
"You're not one of Daeragon's lackeys?"
"I have never heard of this person."
The woman stared for a long moment, then nodded, and moved to walk past Penelophine. As the pyromancer drew even with her, Penelophine spoke, he voice soft and musical, her eyes still staring at the burning inn.
"Was this conflagration your doing?"
The other woman stopped in her tracks. After a long pause, she hung her head. "They left me no choice."
"I have heard such reasoning before," the Siren said sadly.
The other woman turned to looked at Penelophine. Penelophine did not look back. "It's always the same," she began. "Everywhere I go, on every world I've been to, everyone does two things. They judge me, and they try to take everything I have! Well, I'm done with it! Daeragon's gone too far! He's taken the only thing that matters, and I WILL get her back! I am Beryl Trevanei, and I will not be denied!"
Penelophine turned then to look at the other woman. "You 'walk the plane as well." It was not a question. "I once believed all those who carried the Spark were monsters." She turned back to stare at the fire. "Myself included. I had hoped the monsters had died off with the Spark's weakening. But perhaps I was right. Perhaps we are all monsters."
Beryl turned back to look at the inn, the inn she had set ablaze in her battle with Daeragon's men. She hung her head. "Not all of us. There's one who isn't," she paused, a tear coming to her good eye. "One who makes me better than a monster, too."
Penelophine looked over at the other woman. "The one you week?"
Beryl merely nodded.
Penelophine mirrored the motion. "Then perhaps we should go find her."
Beryl looked over at the Siren. "You want to help?"
"If she is no monster, then she is worth saving," Penelophine said. "And if you are no monster when you are with her, then so are you." They stood in silence for a long moment, before Penelophine lowered her head again. "And perhaps, there is time yet to save myself."
I'm not crying... it's just raining on my face.
I have tried to imagine what Beryl might be like, in exactly this sort of situation. And the little glimpses I get are... scary.
Orida Vise burst through the tunnel's exit and checked the end of the Doom Clapper. She had expected to see the tip stained and dripping with reptilian blood, but it was perfectly clean. She was breathing heavily, but even as she struggled to catch her breath, she had to marvel at the strange artifact she bore. She had probably killed a hundred snakes in that accursed tunnel, but just like the scarecrows back on Cartrevard, the Doom Clapper seemed to utterly and completely destroy anything it struck. The snakes had merely vanished in a buff of death.
Yet they had kept coming. There seemed to be no end to them, and them seemed to come from every direction. Orida had always been afraid of snakes, but they had rarely been a problem in the city. Here, though, on this strange plane, and in this strange tunnel system, they were endless, and Orida was getting frustrated.
"Why do you interrupt my work?" A voice sounded in the half-darkened chamber.
Orida's head snapped in the direction of the voice, but the speaker was shrouded in shadows. "Who the **** are you?"
The voice scoffed. "You came to me. Who are you?"
"I'm Orida Vise, that's who the **** I am. And I've got a very big, very dangerous weapon here, so maybe you should answer my first **** question."
The voice scoffed again. You have quite the tongue, young lady." The voice laughed slightly. "But then again, I do, too."
"Yeah, well, I'll tell you where you can stick that tongue in a minute. Get the **** out here and tell me who the **** you are!"
"Very well, impudent one," a form began to appear from the shadows. "I am Cyrryc Adda."
On the "C" sound, Adda elongated the syllable into a reptilian hiss, which seemed to emphasis his form as he slithered into the artificial light.
"Dammit! You're a snake, too!" Orida said, growing angry. She clutched the handle of the Doom Clapper tightly and crouched down into an aggressive stance. "I have had it with these mother **** snakes on this mother **** plane!"
I'm not sorry!
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
Syl of the Dual-Walkers encounters Kahr-ret-Taris.
I remember that happening! Actually, though, it'll be pretty interesting if and when it happens again.
Quote:
Denner Fabellian and Tryst run into one another.
Tryst: "And just what the hell are you staring at?" Denner: "I, oh, well, nothing! I mean, I think the horny look is good on you." Tryst: "What did you just say?" Denner: "No, I mean, the horns, they look, uh..." Tryst: "Yes?" Denner: "Uh, well, hmm. I think I'd better go." Tryst: "Yes, I think you better had."
Quote:
Aurélie Cerveau meets Kimberley Talon and Antine.
Aurélie: "The Revolution can always use more swords, even ones as strange as yours'." Kimberley: "Revolution? Um, maybe I should talk to Jinsen about this..." Antine: "Wait, Revolution? I really don't think I can take another one of those."
Quote:
Syl of the Dual-Walkers, Chardis of the Dual-Walkers, Blink, and Kirsh of the Flats all meet.
Syl: "Now hold still, Aven. We are just going to cast a nice, quick, cycloptic illusion on you, just to see what happens."
Tryst: "And just what the hell are you staring at?" Denner: "I, oh, well, nothing! I mean, I think the horny look is good on you." Tryst: "What did you just say?" Denner: "No, I mean, the horns, they look, uh..." Tryst: "Yes?" Denner: "Uh, well, hmm. I think I'd better go." Tryst: "Yes, I think you better had."
The scary thing is, I'd say this is maybe in the best 10 percent of possible outcomes?
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
Tryst: "And just what the hell are you staring at?" Denner: "I, oh, well, nothing! I mean, I think the horny look is good on you." Tryst: "What did you just say?" Denner: "No, I mean, the horns, they look, uh..." Tryst: "Yes?" Denner: "Uh, well, hmm. I think I'd better go." Tryst: "Yes, I think you better had."
The scary thing is, I'd say this is maybe in the best 10 percent of possible outcomes?
Yeah, of all your female characters, Tryst would probably be the most unfortunate for Denner to happen upon before he learns to mind his manners a bit better. Well, there might be one more, but I wouldn't want to rope him into that...
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
Tryst doesn't seem like the type who would be interested in an Aubedore reading.
Oddly enough, I had almost exactly the opposite reaction -- I can imagine her being very, very interested in the outcome of a particular sort of reading...
(Do we have a list of Aubedore cards available anywhere?)
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
Tryst doesn't seem like the type who would be interested in an Aubedore reading.
Oddly enough, I had almost exactly the opposite reaction -- I can imagine her being very, very interested in the outcome of a particular sort of reading...
(Do we have a list of Aubedore cards available anywhere?)
Yes, it exists. Raven did extensive work on it.
And you know I've done some for myself as well.
_________________
At twilight's end, the shadow's crossed / a new world birthed, the elder lost. Yet on the morn we wake to find / that mem'ry left so far behind. To deafened ears we ask, unseen / "Which is life and which the dream?"
Tryst doesn't seem like the type who would be interested in an Aubedore reading.
Oddly enough, I had almost exactly the opposite reaction -- I can imagine her being very, very interested in the outcome of a particular sort of reading...
(Do we have a list of Aubedore cards available anywhere?)
I asked a while ago if people wanted one, and most people who said anything indicated to keep it a secret for a time. It is available by sneaky investigation of the Prompt Generator.
(Do we have a list of Aubedore cards available anywhere?)
I've been working on updating the wiki for all of my various loose ends for the last week, give or take. So, when this question came up, I decided to make a wiki page for Aubedore that talks a little about its history on Thorneau, the patterns used, and the full card list, including the "realms" they belong to.
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