And so it begins...

Couth takes in Madam Eva words. He takes note that she appears to know a bit about each of us. Appear she is true to the trade. Still a bit shocked, he remains quiet for the moment.

Eye of the Storm's eyes narrowed as Madam Eva brought up details of his companion's lives. As she came to him he bristled at her words and his hands rubbed the pommels of his twin swords..
"Are you saying you won't let us go back?"

Ashtar was unsure of what to make of Madam Eva. He’d known charlatans who claimed mystical powers that were mere smoke and mirrors, which this woman seemed to have in abundance, and yet everything leading up to this had been too elaborate for a mere con. They weren’t exactly rich, what would be the point?

He was skeptical as she rattled off their "fortunes", and then it was his turn, and his reading was as vague as it was enticing. Ashtar’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to be calm. It was a vague reading as all readings are.

Ashtar nodded at Madam Eva, staying silent on his reading. Instead, he asked, "We were told you and your people are having issue with a prince turnes evil. Perhaps you can tell us more about that?"

Just as she sits and relaxes, Alyria stiffens at the mention of her grandfather. Her gaze sharpens as she assesses the older woman, not having put too much faith in how she appeared to be clairvoyant. She had a friend in a carnival, so she was well aware that people often would don a look similar to Madam Eva's and scam people out of their coin with false promises and untrue futures. Alyria hadn't ever said anything truly about the order, so the realization of the fact that this woman might actually have a true sight startled her.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask about it, she heard Ashtar direct the conversation onto why they were there. For now, she reigned in her desire to spout question after question at the woman. She could wait until they had the information about why they were there. Then, before leaving, Alyria would get her answers.

Madam Eva stops shuffling the cards. The cards are impatient. I must do the reading before the magic fades." She places the cards down on the table and cuts them into two decks. " You will each be allowed to ask a question once the cards are revealed."

Closing her eyes, she places her right hand over the surface of the first deck. The crimson flames dim and swirl in eldritch patterns as her lips move silently, a distant tension spreading through the air. The sounds of the rustling trees and rippling pool beyond the tent's walls begin to dim, the external world growing mute and insubstantial as the space within grows more solid—more real.
Slowly, reverently, she draws three cards from the top of the deck, laying them face down separately on the table, with the second laid between and above its partners. She then moves to the second deck, drawing two more cards. The first she places below the first three, forming a cross. The second, she places in the center.
The lights of the candles sway like silhouettes, leaning in toward the cards like anxious watchers, yet the air in the tent is perfectly still. No light intrudes through the seams in the tent's walls, and no voice rings out in the silence. Shadows and mist swirl at the boundaries of the tent, where the darkness of the deepest night dwells, but here, at its center, light yet reigns.

She then moves her wrinkled hand to the left-most card—the first. She closes her eyes and tilts her head, as if listening to an unspoken word. The arcane lights swirl and then shift, their colors changing to a deep, piercing blue. "This card tells of history. Knowledge of the ancients will help you better understand your enemy."
She flips the card.
The cerulean light dances across its surface, revealing an illustration of:

"The Nine of Swords—Torturer." Her dark pupils shift from side to side, as though reading from an unseen text. "There is a town where all is not well. There you will find a house of corruption, and within, a boy corrupt with power."

She moves her hand to the second card, this one at the top of the cross. As she closes her eyes and listens once more, the candlelight flares, its color bursting into a fierce, cheery yellow.
"This card tells of a powerful force for good and protection, a holy symbol of great hope."
She flips the card.
This time, the light reveals a new illustration:

"The Four of Stars—Abjurer." Her eyes stare deep into the shadows that lurk in the corners of the tent. "I see a fallen house guarded by a great stone dragon. Light the beacon."

She moves her hand to the third card, at the right arm of the cross, her eyelids closing like a trance, her lips pursed in quiet contemplation. The candlelight vanishes, for a heartbeat, and then returns in a nova of fierce, burning white, so pure and strong and clean that it hurts to look at, burns to see..
Madam Eva's eyes snap open, burning with fierce determination. "This is a card of power and strength. It tells of a weapon of vengeance: a sword of sunlight."
She flips the card.
The light reveals a third illustration:
"The Nine of Stars—The Conjurer." The crone's voice is strong with purpose. "I see a dead village, drowned by a river, ruled by one who has brought great evil into the world. The Sword Tainted with Blood."

She moves to the fourth card, at the bottom of the cross, and listens once more, tracing small circles across its back as she hums a contemplative note. The magic flames leap and dance upon their wicks, now casting swirling violet embers into the air as the walls of the tent gleam with the shimmer of twilight.
"This card sheds light on one who will help you greatly in the battle against darkness."
She flips the card.
This time, the illustration revealed is:

"The Beast." Madam Eva leans forward. "A werewolf holds a secret hatred for your enemy and one of your hearts. Use both to your advantage."

Finally, she moves her hand to the fifth card and nearly recoils, her brow furrowing until the wrinkles split her forehead like a trench. Behind her, shadows encircle the candlelight until the light is very nearly swallowed by the creeping darkness.
When next she speaks, Madam Eva's rasping voice is scarce above a whisper. "Your enemy is a creature of darkness, whose powers are beyond mortality. This card will lead you to him!"
Her hand trembles above the card for a silent moment, and then deft, ancient fingers reveal its opposite side. In the darkness, the fifth and final illustration is only barely visible through the smoke and unnatural murk.

Madam Eva slowly exhales. "The Darklord . He lurks in the depths of darkness, in the one place to which he must return."

As the last syllable passes her lips, the old woman freezes—and then rocks back in her chair, her eyes rolling until their whites gleam like pearls in the darkness—and then she snaps back, the candlelight burning down to its ordinary crimson glow.
The sound of the outside world returns—the voices of the Vistani, the crackling of the bonfire, the whisper of the wind, and the lapping of the waves against the shore of the pool. Light, grey and insubstantial, filters in once more through the canvas walls of the tent, and you feel yourselves breathe for the first time since the reading began.
Madam Eva says nothing. She only regards you silently with dark, heavy eyes.

Ashtar eyed the woman, tapping his finger slowly on the table. He didn't get the sense she was a charlatan, but her words were vague enough that random events could be construed as fulfillment of a prophecy, such was the ways of charlatans. And yet, if her powers of prophecy were true...

One question. What one question could he ask? Where to find her? What must be done to find her? Ashtar continued watching her and tapping his finger. At last, he spoke with a measured calmness, though his heart thundered. "The one I seek... what must I accept to find her?"

Quest and such to do:
Find a house of corruption, and within, a boy corrupted with power.
Find the fallen house guarded by a great stone dragon. Light the beacon.
Find the dead village, drowned by a river, ruled by one who has brought great evil into the world. The Sword Tainted with Blood.
A werewolf holds a secret hatred for your enemy and one of your hearts. Use both to your advantage.
Our enemy The Darklord. He lurks in the depths of darkness, in the one place to which he must return.

Couth is caught between asking about something of his own interest and that of what has been foreseen. He decides that what happened to him he has to put aside. No revenge on the orcs and how that happened is just something he has to swallow. Asking more of it will just bring it all back. He has done will to put it in his past with his wife's death.

So, he comes up with the most important question he can think of, "Where or what would it be best to going forward on what has been foreseen to us?"

The old prophet raises an eyebrow at Ashtar's question, mostly the her part. "What they have endured to survive."
To Couth she answers, "The village you passed is stricken with grief. Maybe your light can offer some relief."

Ashtar nods at Madam Eva. He was still uncertain what to make of her, but it seems she's provided what meagre offerings she had and Ashtar was a gracious guest if he was anything.

He waits for the others to finish.

Still overwhelmed by the crashing realization that the old woman had — or seemed to have — a closely sourced knowledge of her own family history, Briar could not listen as the cards were drawn and placed. She stared down at the arrangement with a gaze that pierced through the table itself, finding absolutely nothing as her brain raced through a tangle of sudden, spasmodic somersaults. The audio of the world around swam in and out like the tide, crashing down on the small fairy with all the weight of the moon’s force.

She watched blindly as the cards laid out turned to reveal their mysteries, fingers curled and pressed intently against her sternum as if gripping an invisible pendant. Barely audible, she whispers "Mama…" before realizing where she stands. The image of the Darklord pulls her to the present when his emotionless yet terrible visage gazes up from the freshly flipped fortune-paper.

Briar looks to her companions with a mingled fear, confusion, and shame in her large emerald eyes. Only then does she begin to pour over the full array of cards before them, attempting to recall what the world beyond her mind had experienced over the past few minutes. She steels herself with a steady breath and looks to the elder woman. "You said Mama could help. I want to help." She stares again at the cards and shivers. "How do you befriend a werewolf?"

Alyria waited as patiently as she could to ask her question. She was near praying that someone asked about the quest they were on. A part of her wanted to be responsible and inquire about their next steps, but that large part of herself that ran head first into everything without thinking first wanted to use the opportunity selfishly. At Madam Eva's response to Ashtar's question, she couldn't help the eyebrow that raised at the woman's emphasis on a certain word. It had her wondering things and led to mental images that Alyria would be amused to see.

She silently praised Couth for asking the question she wanted someone else to focus on as it allowed her to then question which selfish route to take. A tiny part of the back of her mind, the part that sang of regret and guilt, wanted to ask about him, but the information Madam Eva had thrown out was too important to her own personal mission. Alyria couldn't bring herself to not focus on the work her grandfather left unfinished. As she opened her mouth, she heard Briar speak. Looking over, she saw the distress on the fairy's face and offered a gentle hand across her back in comfort.

Waiting patiently once more, Alyria let Briar's question be answered before asking, "Where can I find the order? I must find them!"

Nodding to the Fairy, "They are the same as you and me. You attract more Ravens with treats then with Tricks.
To Alyria "What you seek slumbers west at the base of the mountain. When the Moon's River cross you are close.
She sighs "I must ask you to leave. I grow tired and weak. Please call Stanimir in." She closes her eyes and begins slowly breathing.

As you open the tent to exit you notice that it is night time outside and rush of hunger and exhaustion flows over you.

A bonfire is roaring and the traveler's are sitting around it. They are passing around bottles of wine and you smell a pot of stew simmering.

Ashtar stands and nods politely at Madam Eva, exiting the tent and calling Stanimir over. He walks over to the bonfire, and waits to discuss the situation with the others. "We could always refuse the call and return home." A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Seems there is danger abound, but I am... gravitated towards this place. Something pulls me here, calls to me. Whether the woman's words were false or true, I find that I must see this to its end, though perhaps for selfish reasons."

He looks at the others to hear their thoughts.

Head bowed and hands still clutching an invisible amulet at her breastbone, Briar slinks away from the group a ways and plants herself at the base of a tree. The leaves across her shoulders are still and subdued, barely pulsing as her mind reels and processes the knowledge imparted from Madam Eva.

The fairy looks up upon hearing Ashtar share his thoughts. A lightless smile forms upon her lips though it does not quite reach her pensive eyes. In an attempt to resume some variation of her accustomed boisterous and gleeful nature, she responds in a tremulous singsong tone, "We can be heroes."

Large Couth will indulge on more stew and wine campfire side. He will chat but really says nothing about their time with the Madam Eva or their reason for even being here. If more recent female makes an appearance, then Couth time will get redirected.

To the others, 'I foresee and fathom only moving forward. Tomorrow's morning glory. We travel to the nearby village. Best a good night's rest."

Stanimir gets out of his chair when you call and heads into the tent right away, closing the flaps behind him.
An hour or so passes with the party eating steak (or goodberries) and drinking wine.
Stanimir exits the tent and finds the party. He motions to a tent that is set up for the group of you to sleep in tonight.

Couth. The lovely lady you spent last night with is currently preoccupied with one of the travelers. They are very attached. Ready

History

GeneCortess February 6, 2024 4:58 am

Kilikina February 6, 2024 10:20 am

GeneCortess February 6, 2024 5:20 pm

GeneCortess February 6, 2024 7:44 pm

GeneCortess February 6, 2024 7:44 pm

grifter730 February 6, 2024 8:08 pm

Redamancy February 6, 2024 8:36 pm

Smiley February 6, 2024 8:51 pm

Khulod February 6, 2024 10:12 pm

Voting thang is strange. Seems tapping more than once has lesser side effects.

Oh. Redamancy. I auto used the normal stated average and not max or rolled. I could be wrong.