Nasperge sighed. “You’re asking me to do the impossible,” he said.
The black-cowled woman on the other side of his reading table leaned forward. Her body was tense and, through the flickering light of the tea candles, Nasperge could just catch a glimpse of her pointed teeth as she spoke.
“Nevertheless, I am asking,” she said.
Nasperge leaned back in his seat and sighed again. He did not like the direction in which this conversation was headed, and the bad feeling which he had in the pit of his stomach only grew deeper the longer that the woman stared at him.
Her eyes were yellow, and they did not blink.
She had been watching him for most of the day, he knew, although he had felt her before he had seen her. There was something about her presence that he had been able to sense, almost below the level of conscious awareness – like a prickling, almost, at the base of his skull – the sort of feeling that he usually got when he knew that something was wrong, but he didn’t quite know what.
The sensation had begun just after midday, and it had bothered him all throughout the afternoon, making it hard to concentrate on his readings. After the last client of the day had departed, he had gotten up from his seat and stepped outside to take down his sign. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a second, but, when he came back through the flap into his tent, she was there, sitting in the chair he reserved for his patrons, with her arms crossed in front of her, and her eyes fixed upon him.
It was a good trick, he had to admit. He hadn’t even seen her come in.
Now she was staring at him, waiting for him to speak.
Nasperge sighed again.
“What you want can’t be done,” he said. “For me to perform a reading, the subject of that reading has to be present.”
The woman was silent for a moment.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” she said.
Nasperge shrugged his shoulders.
“Then I’m afraid that there is very little I can do for you,” he said.
Slipping one hand inside his cape, he extracted his Aubedore deck from the pocket that he didn’t have, and he gave the timeworn cards a practiced shuffle.
“If you would like a reading for yourself,” he offered, by way of a conciliatory gesture, “then I would be more than happy to oblige.”
The hooded woman shook her head.
“It’s not my nature that interests me,” she said, and, as she said it, Nasperge noticed that the tone of her voice had changed.
The Magician studied her for a long moment, then. He studied the contours of her posture, noted the minute changes in the way she had positioned herself atop the chair, and he thought about what she had revealed without meaning to.
With a heavy sigh, he set the deck of cards down on the reading table, and he rubbed his forehead.
“Do you have anything of hers?” he asked. “A keepsake, a memento – anything which connects you to her?”
The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, silently, she reached inside her robe, and, when her hand reemerged, she was holding something in her black-clawed fingertips, which she set atop the faded chintz tablecloth.
Nasperge glanced down at the item, which the woman had handled so delicately: It was a tiny lock of black hair, tied round with white silk string.
After a moment spent staring at the memento, Nasperge nodded his head, and he picked up his deck.
“You do understand,” he said, as he dealt three face-down cards in the shape of a simple identity pyramid, “that the reading can’t be precise? Any given card can have many possible interpretations, and, without the ability to see the subject react, my ability to ascribe any specific meaning to what the cards reveal is severely limited.”
“I understand,” the woman said.
“Very well, then,” Nasperge said, and he turned over the first card, revealing The Dreamer.
He glanced up at the woman, who was silent.
“That card doesn’t require much interpretation,” he said. “Does it?”
The woman shook her head.
Nasperge waited to see if the woman would speak. When she did not, he shrugged, and, with a small flip of his wrist, he turned the second card.
As he revealed The Princess, in its inverted position, he saw the woman flinch.
“You’ve told me nothing,” the woman said, her body now tense.
Nasperge raised an eyebrow.
“I told you that I cannot be precise,” he said. “And you told me that you understood.”
Slowly, the woman nodded. But she did not relax.
Nasperge moved his hand, so that it hovered over the third and final card.
“Given what you’ve seen,” he said, “are you sure you want me to continue?”
“Yes,” the woman said, with a forcefulness which betrayed her lack of certainty.
“Very well,” Nasperge said, and he turned over the final card.
For a moment, the tent was silent.
“No,” the woman said, quietly.
“There are multiple possible intepre—” Nasperge started to say.
“—No,” the woman said again, angrily this time, and she jabbed a single, sharp claw at The Shadow, where it lay upon the table. “You’ve made a mistake.”
“I assure you, Madame, there’s no—”
“—Turn The Eye,” the woman said.
That took Nasperge by surprise. He glanced up at the woman, whose face was suddenly very close to his, and whose pupils had narrowed to thin, black slashes.
“I don’t think—”
“—Turn The Eye!” the woman said.
Nasperge peeled the top card off of the deck, and held it up for the woman to see.
It was The Demon.
“No!” the woman hissed. Then, before Nasperge could stop her, she grabbed the next card off the top of the deck, and slammed it down atop the table, so that it covered up The Shadow.
It was also The Demon.
“No!” the woman screamed, and, again, she ripped the top card from the deck and threw it down on the table, only to reveal another copy of The Demon.
“No!” she shrieked, again and again, as she turned card after card, each one somehow the same as the last. “No, no, no!”
Nasperge reached out and seized the woman by her wrist. As he did, the woman’s cowl slipped, revealing the pair of black horns which crowned her head.
The woman rounded on him and snarled, baring her teeth like a cornered animal.
“You can’t cheat the cards,” the Magician said quietly, still holding the woman by the wrist. “That's not the trick.”
For a second, then, the woman looked as though she were going to attack him. Her eyes were razors, and her body coiled like a viper, ready to spring.
Then, suddenly, the woman blinked.
Beneath Nasperge’s grip, he could feel the muscles in her arm relax.
She blinked again, and her breathing began to slow.
Nasperge let go of the woman’s wrist.
The woman reached down and carefully collected the lock of hair, which vanished back inside her robe. Then she drew her hood back up, so that it concealed her horns.
Nasperge sighed one more time.
“I’m sorry that wasn’t what you were hoping to see,” he said, and he bent over to gather up the cards which, in her frenzy, the woman had scattered across the table.
“Thank you for the reading,” was all the woman said.
The Magician did not need to look back up to know that she was gone.
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"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
Last edited by OrcishLibrarian on Thu Aug 25, 2016 7:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
This question just occurred to me, and I'm not certain where exactly to ask, so here we are: If Aubedore were to be rendered on a card (say, a rare blue card from a hypothetical Thorneau set or block), what mechanics would it have?
@The Eye: That was good (though sad). Still, I remain hopeful that, as Nasperge said it might be, the reading was inaccurate. After all, the cards could have attuned themselves more to Tryst than to the hair, or even that demonic white silk string! Vile strings...
@Landis963: That's a tough question. I think Scry and Forecast are strong frontrunners in terms of already existent keywords. Hmm, let me throw out some ideas that are likely anything but balanced:
Cards
Aubedore Reading - Instant You get a Fortune counter, then scry X, where X is the number of Fortune counters you have. Then remove all Fortune counters you have. Forecast — , Reveal Aubedore Reading from your hand: You get a Fortune counter. (Activate this ability only during your upkeep and only once each turn.)
Aubedore Reading - Enchantment When Aubedore Reading enters the battlefield, choose Yourself or Others. , : If you chose Yourself, look at the top three cards of your library. Choose one and put it into your hand. Put the rest on the bottom of your library in any order. If you chose Others, look at target player's hand. Choose one of those cards. That player discards that card.
Aubedore Cards - Artifact , : Target creature you control is unblockable until end of turn. If that creature deals combat damage this turn, scry 2. The Chevaliers of the Order of the Drifting Lily were known for two things: Employing Aubedore readers as advisors, and never being where their enemies expected them to be.
Wow. We've discovered the limit of your cruelty to fictional characters.
Though yes, anything that destroys Aloise will bode ill for the rest of the multiverse.
@The Eye:
Yes, that would have been a very strong question in her mind, though it must have been well before "The Understanding" takes place. It also hints that some of Nasperge's precognition is based outside of his connection to the cards.
@Aubedore Cards: I like the first and third, though I suspect the first is underpowered outside of a combo deck. The discard ability of the second feels wrong, though, both in and for something that only reveals information.
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.
Alessa Rehn and Fisco Vane, the Shark run into one another.
Not on Jakkard, I hope.
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Beryl, the Heart-Scarred runs into Madame du Collet.
Madame du Brule.
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Aloise Hartley meets Kimberley Talon.
Well, that would be telling.
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Kirsh of the Flats runs into Sava Pith.
That would DEFINITELY be telling!
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The Eightfold Lotus runs into Huinn, Last of the Darkwings.
I'd pay to watch that.
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Daneera encounters Clade.
Ah... Here we are. I don't remember writing this one.
Spoiler
Daneera stepped into the clearing, at peace and in wonder.
This plane was vast and trackless, completely untouched by civilization. Or at least, if it ever had been, the abundance of growth that she encountered hid it well. For as far as she had traveled - for as far as she could feel - there was nothing but wild, untamed forest.
And in the center of it all, one of the largest trees she had ever seen. When she had climbed to the canopy for a better view yesterday, she had thought herself well within a days walk. However, after that day had passed, she did not find herself any closer to the truly massive oak in the distance. It might take a week or more to reach it at this rate.
Well. A week or more without help.
She needed to take stock of her surroundings before choose a beast to summon, however. The clearing was old - as the entire forest was. A larger creature would not do much to damage the mighty growth, though she should probably choose something for it's speed rather than size... The clearing also contained what appeared to be a sun-dappled pond, next to which sat a large boulder, covered in moss. Well, the pond was as good a place as any to refill her water skin.
She approached the pond and-
-realized a second too late that the boulder was not a boulder at all, before it erupted from the ground in a spray of earth with a mighty roar.
"TRESPASSER!" The creature bellowed, so loudly that she felt the physical force of it shake her bones. Daneera immediately adopted a combat stance, but it was too late. The ground was shaking, as though a wurm...!
But it was not a wurm that erupted from the earth as her adversary lifted his large, stump-like arms skyward, but a hand made of stone and moss. Daneera leapt, but the earth was endless and easily grabbed both of her legs mid-air, knocking her knees together painfully. She whipped out her knife, but needed to stab the hand once to realize it was a futile gesture. So, as the hand swung her around, toward the creature - a troll, she recognized, even upside down - she grit her teeth and decided size would, in fact, be better than speed.
With a triumphant roar, a baloth six times Daneera's height burst into being and charged the troll. The troll's head whipped around, and though she could not see his face, Daneera grinned Savagely as the Baloth reached him, maw opened wide, and...
The troll grabbed the Baloth's lower jaw with both hands, and slammed the creature into the dirt. Then, the troll roared once more.
This one was louder. Daneera was forced to drop her knife and cover her ears, grimacing in pain. When she looked back, the Baloth was stumbling into the forest. Running... away? From the troll? Baloth's didn't run from anything! They just... ate. For her baloth to fear this troll...
He turned to face her, and she realized, though her ringing ears and the blood rushing to her head, that the stone arm was holding her at eye level to her captor - almost a full fifteen feet off the ground. So. He wanted to... talk?
Though she knew a troll for a troll, this one did look... different. Not a species she had encountered before. As he trudged over to her in three, purposeful strides, a staff made of wood - really a glorified tree trunk - rose from the ground silently and fit into his hand. He stopped, his face scant inches from her, jowls quivering and nostrils flared.
And he inhaled.
Then stepped back.
"I am Clade." He said.
"...Daneera." She replied, cautiously. She wondered how many trolls like him were on this plane. With such fearsome power, it was little wonder civilization never took root.
"You are a quickling." Clade stated.
"I don't know what that is." Daneera told him, hoping it would sate his ire. He had called her a trespasser before - perhaps he knew she was a planeswalker.
"You will die, small thing." Clade growled, and then turned away from her. Daneera felt a spike of primal fear in her gut as she prepared to cast- But Clade raised his hand, and all the mana she had begun pooling fled her, and went to him. "Perhaps not today. Or tomorrow. But eventually."
The stone hand let go of her and crumbled away. Startled, she barely managed to right herself in time to land on her feet, though her bruised knees screamed in protest. Hissing, she glared at Clade.
"And you won't?" She accused, anger getting the better of her.
"No." Clade stated, as though it were fact. Daneera sneered.
"I've seen pride like that before." Daneera told him. "It never lasts forever. Nothing does."
"There is no pride, small thing." Clade stooped and scooped up a handful of earth in his large hands "The only reason you yet live is because my forest has accepted you. Like a mewling cub batting at the hornet's nest, you seek to aggravate me." Clade turned to her, condemnation thick over his features. "I am not as kind as a hornet, small thing."
"I gathered that when you ambushed me for no reason." Daneera replied flatly. "And now you won't stop talking. Am I free to go or are you going to kill me?" Robbed of her knife, mana, and beasts, Daneera was well and truly defenseless, and she knew it. But if the troll was looking to play with his food, then she was definitely not going to play along.
"You smell of the forest." Clade ignored her jibe, in favor of continuing... whatever he was doing. He cupped the earth he had taken from the ground in both hands. The soil looked fertile. "My forest has not accepted the presence of another in centuries. At first I thought you sought to mask yourself and steal the power of this place for yourself. Know that this power is mine, and I have taken it by right."
"Your... forest." Daneera looked around as Clade stood before her once more with a handful of dirt. "The... whole world? Is yours?"
Clade nodded.
"This world and others, small thing."
...Oh.
Clade held the fertile earth forward, presenting it to her. "You said nothing lasts forever." Clade murmured. "Place your hand within, and know." Daneera glared up at him skeptically. She had never heard... Well, she had never heard a troll talk at all. Mostly it was roaring and grunting with trolls. But this one... It was not like she had much of a choice anyway. she sighed, and reached her hand into the loamy soil.
Suddenly, she was far away. And at the same time, exactly where she was.
Endlessly swirling all around her - all around many different hers - was a blinding and deafening cacophony of green light. She caught glimpses of animals and creatures she had never seen. Fauna she had never dreamed of flashed before here suddenly multiplied eyes as the maelstrom of torrential existence swirled around her. She felt the heartbeats, the expansion of lungs, the beat of wings, the rustle of leaves. Like breathing through her skin and tasting the sound of lush jungles many thousands of worlds away, and then-
Then she was back. She was just Daneera. She gasped for breath and stumbled backwards, falling on her rear. Clade let the soil fall back to the ground.
"Life last's forever, small thing." Clade said. "Even when yours ends, everything else lives on. Endlessly. But remember this: Your life has hardships, and so does all life." With that, he looked into the distance and frowned at something far, far away. "A storm is coming, small thing." Then, his glowing, green eyes fell upon her, intense. In those eyes, she saw a whisper of the torrential vision she just experienced. "I would count you as an ally against it."
Daneera's head was still swimming from what she had just witnessed - what she had just felt. Everything... Everything was so much more massive and involved than she had anticipated. Connected in a way that... She had not understood before. And now...
"What does that mean?" Daneera asked. She could tell this Clade was an ally of the wild, but that did not make him a good person. And if he truly was a planeswalker...
"It means that you must become strong." Clade informed her, and then vanished.
Once more the clearing was quiet. When she finally stood and went to go find her knife, she noticed that the scars of their conflict had vanished along with the troll. No evidence of her experience remained, save for the ache in her knees, the ringing in her ears, and the knowledge that there was so much more out there than she could have ever possibly hoped for.
Daneera refilled her water skin. She would start by seeing that oak.
@The Eye: Ouch... That was uh... That was not a kind reading.
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Though yes, anything that destroys Aloise will bode ill for the rest of the multiverse.
Man. There is just. SO MUCH TELLING going on today.
The Eightfold Lotus runs into Huinn, Last of the Darkwings.
I'd pay to watch that.
That would be interesting, to say the least. I wonder how Jinsen would react to the Bird's mental assaults. Both Morgezka and Chardis had problems with them, after all. Interesting one...
Ah... Here we are. I don't remember writing this one.
I liked this. Poor Daneera winds up helpless at the hands of your characters a lot, doesn't she? Now I kind of want her to try to take on Jinsen and just get shut down...
Also, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that there's a morbid part of me that wants a scene where Clade is standing at the edge of a forest, with a couple dozen allies behind him, as a gentle summer shower rolls by. As it finishes, he turned to them, wipes his brow, and says, "The storm was worse than I had thought. But somehow, we have survived." And everyone just stares at him until he walks off, whistling a tuneless song to himself...
Ah... Here we are. I don't remember writing this one.
Does this mean you wrote it some time ago, and rediscovered it thanks to the prompt, or that the prompt enticed you to write something you suspect is entirely new? Either way, I love the story! Clade may count her as an ally, but she certainly doesn't trust him. And is it just me, or does this feel pre-WotW? She's been around the block a few times, but hasn't experienced such massive power or scale just yet.
Granted, I noticed one instance each of three different apostrophe misusages, but they don't really detract from the power of the story. And I feel like I've seen that message of gathering strength for the coming storm somewhere before...
Poor Daneera winds up helpless at the hands of your characters a lot, doesn't she? Now I kind of want her to try to take on Jinsen and just get shut down...
To be fair, his swords aren't designed for something the size of a baloth, but if her enhanced speed can't even keep up with a werewolf, she herself is in trouble. (Fifteen seconds.)
To be fair, his swords aren't designed for something the size of a baloth, but if her enhanced speed can't even keep up with a werewolf, she herself is in trouble. (Fifteen seconds.)
When Jinsen properly applies the second Kata, he breaks the sound barrier.
Admittedly that still slower than a speeding bullet so he's not Superman. But a distance of twenty paces he can close the gap between himself and a shooter (I should really post those Kata stories I have somewhere...) and end their life before they fire a shot.
Honestly, a crackshot like Sage might give him a lot of trouble but it depends on how far away he is. I think more than like, 500 feet and Jinsen would have enough time to dodge the bullet. Any closer, if Jinsen didn't know he was there, then there could be problems...
Huh. I don't know why I rambled about this.
Anyway suffice to so say that at one point Jinsen decimated the vanguard of a charging army with a sonic boom.
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That would be interesting, to say the least. I wonder how Jinsen would react to the Bird's mental assaults. Both Morgezka and Chardis had problems with them, after all. Interesting one...
Oh, hey, more about Jinsen!
He'd have less trouble with the mental assault and more trouble with the speed and shadows. Jinsen relies a great deal on his hearing - especially when he can't see - and Huinn is deathly silent. It would be close, that's for sure. Huinn loses points for always mumbling to himself, which would take away part of the challenge. It's strange how Jinsen struggles against more mundane challenges - distance, line of sight, silence - and less against the terror-inducing nightmares of a mad bird.
Jinsen's mind is like a cold, marble fortress. Actually, I think I described it in Fear as a still, cold lake. What disturbs the surfaces has no effects the dark deep below.
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Does this mean you wrote it some time ago, and rediscovered it thanks to the prompt, or that the prompt enticed you to write something you suspect is entirely new? Either way, I love the story! Clade may count her as an ally, but she certainly doesn't trust him. And is it just me, or does this feel pre-WotW? She's been around the block a few times, but hasn't experienced such massive power or scale just yet.
Both, probably. SHRUG. I just wrote this one because I'm stretching my fingers again, and this seemed like a good place to do it.
I was going for post-wotw because of the "nothing lasts forever" quip but the timeline is nebulous and I didn't put a ton of thought into it.
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I liked this. Poor Daneera winds up helpless at the hands of your characters a lot, doesn't she? Now I kind of want her to try to take on Jinsen and just get shut down...
Also, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that there's a morbid part of me that wants a scene where Clade is standing at the edge of a forest, with a couple dozen allies behind him, as a gentle summer shower rolls by. As it finishes, he turned to them, wipes his brow, and says, "The storm was worse than I had thought. But somehow, we have survived." And everyone just stares at him until he walks off, whistling a tuneless song to himself...
Maybe Daneera should meet up with Aloise or Pendulum. Then at least she could have tea or talk about uh... Whatever one talks about with Pendulum. Wow, Pendulum. I gotta do something with him.
As for that Clade scene, oh gosh. I would LOVE that because I haven't honestly decided what Clade's deal is yet. Pfft. But, probably not. I don't know if Clade's going to be right or wrong, considering this "storm" appears to be a multiplanar threat, and it would be difficult to do stuff with that without stepping on the toes of canon.
That would be interesting, to say the least. I wonder how Jinsen would react to the Bird's mental assaults. Both Morgezka and Chardis had problems with them, after all. Interesting one...
Oh, hey, more about Jinsen!
He'd have less trouble with the mental assault and more trouble with the speed and shadows. Jinsen relies a great deal on his hearing - especially when he can't see - and Huinn is deathly silent. It would be close, that's for sure. Huinn loses points for always mumbling to himself, which would take away part of the challenge. It's strange how Jinsen struggles against more mundane challenges - distance, line of sight, silence - and less against the terror-inducing nightmares of a mad bird.
Jinsen's mind is like a cold, marble fortress. Actually, I think I described it in Fear as a still, cold lake. What disturbs the surfaces has no effects the dark deep below.
I actually disagree here. I don't think Jinsen would have much trouble. Huinn is an extreme ambush predator, but he's so ill focused I don't think he'd have the patience for fighting Jinsen.
It might sound weird, but I think the only ones who might give Jinsen trouble in a physical fight would be Saigo, who just has all that aura to get through but likely couldn't match Jinsen's swordwork, and Alessa, in which Jinsen's experience probably works against him being super predictable and her time magic throwing a wrench in his physical advantages. Of course I seriously doubt she'd bother fighting someone so much better trained than her.
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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?"
That would be interesting, to say the least. I wonder how Jinsen would react to the Bird's mental assaults. Both Morgezka and Chardis had problems with them, after all. Interesting one...
Oh, hey, more about Jinsen!
He'd have less trouble with the mental assault and more trouble with the speed and shadows. Jinsen relies a great deal on his hearing - especially when he can't see - and Huinn is deathly silent. It would be close, that's for sure. Huinn loses points for always mumbling to himself, which would take away part of the challenge. It's strange how Jinsen struggles against more mundane challenges - distance, line of sight, silence - and less against the terror-inducing nightmares of a mad bird.
Jinsen's mind is like a cold, marble fortress. Actually, I think I described it in Fear as a still, cold lake. What disturbs the surfaces has no effects the dark deep below.
I actually disagree here. I don't think Jinsen would have much trouble. Huinn is an extreme ambush predator, but he's so ill focused I don't think he'd have the patience for fighting Jinsen.
It might sound weird, but I think the only ones who might give Jinsen trouble in a physical fight would be Saigo, who just has all that aura to get through but likely couldn't match Jinsen's swordwork, and Alessa, in which Jinsen's experience probably works against him being super predictable and her time magic throwing a wrench in his physical advantages. Of course I seriously doubt she'd bother fighting someone so much better trained than her.
Of my characters, I think only Antine would have a chance...
Of course, if he killed Jinsen, it would be entirely on accident while trying to help him. Poor Antine.
Joking aside, pre-mending, Morgezka probably could have taken him, but of course, Jinsen would have been pre-mending in that case, too. Now, though, she's basically just a dragon, albeit a very experienced one with combat. And while we're on the subject of Huinn, I suspect Morgezka is also in for a MUCH more difficult fight if she ever runs into the Bird again...
Raiker could probably take him in a fight, what with the altering reality and all that, but we really haven't seen the upper levels of his power, and there must surely be a limit to what he can affect, so it's possible that he wouldn't be able to affect Jinsen enough to kill him. And besides all that, Raiker is very rarely inclined to resort to physical threats anyway.
Dorn would be pretty screwed in a fight, but a conversation between the two would actually be pretty interesting.
Denner might ignore him to death...
Daneera...well, nice knowing you.
I think that's all my characters. Well, there are 15 or 16 more, but, well, I'm done for now.
@The Eye: That was good (though sad). Still, I remain hopeful that, as Nasperge said it might be, the reading was inaccurate. After all, the cards could have attuned themselves more to Tryst than to the hair, or even that demonic white silk string! Vile strings...
Thanks so much for reading, Raven -- I'm glad that you liked it, seeing as your fella's the star!
Anyway, I somehow don't think that the reading would be wrong, but I think that, as Nasperge kept trying to point out, there are many different ways to interpret the cards in questions. There is, I'll grant you, a fairly literal, obvious reading -- and that certainly seems to be the manner in which Tryst interprets things, much to her despair. But I can think of alternative meanings which put a very different gloss on those cards, too, and, while the scenario they paint might not necessarily be the one that Tryst was hoping for, it could still certainly be one that has a happy ending to it.
Yes, that would have been a very strong question in her mind, though it must have been well before "The Understanding" takes place. It also hints that some of Nasperge's precognition is based outside of his connection to the cards.
Thanks so much for reading, Brentain -- and for the thumbs up!
And, to your point, I think that, in my mind, this little episode and the one in "The Understanding" -- both of which are non-canon, but both of which I also just like -- sort of represent the two ends of the spectrum when it comes to Tryst's hopes and fears about her daughter. "The Understanding" was about hope; this piece here is the matching fear.
But, for whatever it's worth, I think that Tryst is not necessarily afraid of the right thing. Her fears revolve around what her daughter's "nature" might be -- about what might be in her blood. But, in "The Understanding," we can see that the person who Mira is doesn't come from blood -- it comes from her choices, and her spirit.
It comes, in no small part, from Tryst.
Tryst has an amazing opportunity, just by being a mother to her daughter, to set her on the right path. I hope she doesn't lose sight of that. And I hope that she trusts in her own abilities to be the sort of mother who Mira needs.
Because, if there's a little bit of Tryst in Mira? Well, that could be bad, sure. But it could also be very, very wonderful.
When Jinsen properly applies the second Kata, he breaks the sound barrier.
[...]
Anyway suffice to so say that at one point Jinsen decimated the vanguard of a charging army with a sonic boom.
Sounds like a trick a certain character of mine would give a lot to learn
Jinsen is really a monster when it comes to fighting, isn't it. I thought Sharaka may be able to scratch him, but it sounds... unlikely. Elphimas would just parley via illusion and stay way back, cloaked in invisibility/inaudibility/etc, they're not a fighter at all. Ungar... one of his main threats are psychic attacks, and his means of physical attack are too slow for Jinsen. On the other hand, Ungar has a bunch of ways to avoid gruesome dismembering, so the outcome of the fight would depend on Ungar's current set of artifacts and current mental state (he's pretty defeatist).
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Cecil Gershwin Palmer (Welcome to Night Vale) wrote:
Nasperge reached for the final card in the Identity Pyramid, flipping it over to reveal The Dragon.
Morgezka scoffed. "You say you do this for a living, huh?"
Quote:
Raleris, the Lorekeeper encounters Clade.
Spoiler
"No!" Raleris screamed. "For the love of Literature, no! Look, we don't need a forest here. See, look at all these books. This is an Infinite Library! There all, kind of, trees! Please?"
Quote:
Tryst meets Kahr-ret-Taris.
Spoiler
"I am sorry," Kahr said, "but I said no. I have no wish to make any bargains with demons, and if I did, I have a friend who already has an in."
"I can get you a better deal," Tryst said with a wicked smirk.
"I am not interested."
"Oh, yeah? They can get you enough money to fix up this kingdom of yours. It looks like you could use it."
"We shall manage."
"Are you sure I can't tempt you?"
"Positive."
Quote:
Antine and The Duchess meet.
Spoiler
"This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper." - "The Hollow Men" by T. S. Eliot
"No!" Raleris screamed. "For the love of Literature, no! Look, we don't need a forest here. See, look at all these books. This is an Infinite Library! There all, kind of, trees! Please?"
"Dead trees," came the thundering reply as the troll raised his massive staff, "killed by weaklings who tried to chain what can't be harnessed by words."
Sorry, I wanted to try Clade's "voice"
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Cecil Gershwin Palmer (Welcome to Night Vale) wrote:
Henri slipped into the woods behind the farmhouse. Yes, there was technically space for the whole group, but he'd been cramped in little rooms for entirely too long, and needed to stretch his legs.
A glimpse of white caught his attention from behind a few trees. A horse, perhaps. Except, was that a horn? Couldn't be; unicorns only existed in cards and stories. Right?
Nevertheless, Henri crept toward forward.
“Oh!” He wasn't quite sure whether he had heard or thought it. “Hello.”
Henri turned toward the sound and saw a young woman, nearly as pale as Elise, back away a few steps. “I'm sorry,” he replied. “I thought I saw...” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
She tilted her head. “You ... seem troubled.”
Henri let out a short laugh. “You could say that. So much has happened, and we've barely started.” He shook his head, sighing. “I just wanted to be a vocalist.”
The woman smiled. “That sounds nice. Why didn't you?”
Henri grimaced. “Because I talked to the wrong person.” He lifted his head, looking her right in the eyes. “If you ever have the misfortune to meet Raiker Venn, don't accept his offer, whatever it may be. Just walk away.”
The woman nodded. “I'll keep that in mind.”
Quote:
Chardis of the Dual-Walkers and Sorinne Datharius meet.
Something really wants this to happen, it seems. I suspect that they might even have gotten along before she met Dantalion.
Henri slipped into the woods behind the farmhouse. Yes, there was technically space for the whole group, but he'd been cramped in little rooms for entirely too long, and needed to stretch his legs.
A glimpse of white caught his attention from behind a few trees. A horse, perhaps. Except, was that a horn? Couldn't be; unicorns only existed in cards and stories. Right?
Nevertheless, Henri crept toward forward.
“Oh!” He wasn't quite sure whether he had heard or thought it. “Hello.”
Henri turned toward the sound and saw a young woman, nearly as pale as Elise, back away a few steps. “I'm sorry,” he replied. “I thought I saw...” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
She tilted her head. “You ... seem troubled.”
Henri let out a short laugh. “You could say that. So much has happened, and we've barely started.” He shook his head, sighing. “I just wanted to be a vocalist.”
The woman smiled. “That sounds nice. Why didn't you?”
Henri grimaced. “Because I talked to the wrong person.” He lifted his head, looking her right in the eyes. “If you ever have the misfortune to meet Raiker Venn, don't accept his offer, whatever it may be. Just walk away.”
Now that this poll is officially over, it's time to congratulate Aaarrrgh for designing Hill, which has been decided by popular vote to be the Card of the Month for October 2013!
Beryl, the Heart-Scarred and Chardis of the Dual-Walkers meet.
Spoiler
Beryl walked in and looked around, nervously. "Um," she began softly. "Is this...is this PA?"
A handsome man glanced over at her and scoffed. "Yes, it is. Were you forced to come here, too?"
"Forced?" Beryl said. "No. I thought, that maybe it could help..."
"Chardis," a voice warned from the front of the room. Beryl glanced over at the half-elf and noticed his nametag read: Sundar. "Since you seem to have so much to say, why don't you begin today?"
The handsome man, apparently Chardis, scoffed, but stood up as Beryl sat down in the circle of chairs.
"Fine," the man said. "My name is Chardis, and I'm a Pyromancer."
"Pyromaniac, Chardis," Sundar corrected. "We can't help you until you admit that you have a problem."
"I don't have a problem," Chardis retorted. "I'm only here because my sister made me come after a slight accident cost us one of our castles."
"An 'accident' involving fire, isn't that right?" Sundar prompted.
"Whatever," Chardis said with a wave of his hand. Then he leaned over to Beryl. "Can you believe this guy?"
"What was that, Chardis?"
"Nothing."
Sundar shook his head. "Listen, I know..."
"I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE! AND I BRING YOU... FIRE!"
"Kahr!" Sundar yelled over the sudden music. "Kahr, will you please stop playing Arthur Brown in the middle of Pyromaniacs Anonymous!"
"I think I should be going..." Beryl said hurriedly as she rushed to the door and vanished, appropriately enough, in a small burst of flame.
Quote:
Ellia the Endbringer and Kala, The Iron Doctor run into one another.
Spoiler
"Well, well, well," Ellia said with an amused expression on her most recent face. "I must admit, I never expected my apprentice to have survived so long."
Kala's eyes widened as her metallic frame tensed. "Scientist! But, but how..."
Ellia grinned. "No time for that now. You swore an oath to serve me, as I recall."
Kala's artificial frame was incapable of changing color, but she still felt like she had paled. "But that...was forever ago. You can't expect me to..."
"Of course, I can," Ellia said with a sadistic smirk. She held up one hand, which began to glow in a mystical, azure energy. "In fact, as I recall, I took steps to ensure your loyalty."
"Please, Scientist, please don't!"
"Nonsense. I have plans, and you can help." She tilted her head to the side. "This makes me wonder if Gazrawl Kaaz still lives. Hmm. Let's find out. It would be nice to get the old team back together..."
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: If you chose Yourself, look at the top three cards of your library. Choose one and put it into your hand. Put the rest on the bottom of your library in any order. If you chose Others, look at target player's hand. Choose one of those cards. That player discards that card.
Wow. We've discovered the limit of your cruelty to fictional characters.
She probably would have noticed his darkness anyway.