Entry tags:
02 | video | day 42 | morning
[Fiddler glances briefly at the camera, confirming that it's on, but his attention is mostly riveted to the spread of hand-sized wooden cards arrayed in front of him. The designs aren't terribly clear from the camera angle, but for those who are familiar, they might be quite reminiscent of a tarot deck (and rightfully so), though the spread looks more like a weird form of solitaire than any proper reading. Fiddler looks perturbed, but also ... a little resigned.]
Magi, Spinner, Virgin, Mason, Herald ... King and Queen -- the whole Hood-forsaken house is present ... and ain't that just the truth? Must've given the Captain quite the surprise, oh yes. [He picks up one card in particular, his expression twisting for a brief moment before he sets it back down and pushes it aside with a grimace.] Aye, for all that, not a familiar face to be seen. It's the local flavor, I imagine; hard to feel a damned thing, and now I've got a bad feeling that won't go away.
[Fiddler looks up at the camera.] Any artists with a steady hand on this island? I've not got much -- a few silver jakatas, a handful of crescents, but not much else; most of my kit's still tucked up proper in Letheras, alas. I suppose I could offer my services as a solider, but that ain't much either, not here. Not sure what else to offer, but ... I think it's time to get my hands on a deck of local make; might give a little insight into what's coming.
Since I'm asking, might as well see if we've got any alchemists tucked away, as well. I don't imagine it's wise to keep expecting miracles, and my supply won't last forever. Anyone out there with experience making munitions -- anyone who knows much about them at all?
Magi, Spinner, Virgin, Mason, Herald ... King and Queen -- the whole Hood-forsaken house is present ... and ain't that just the truth? Must've given the Captain quite the surprise, oh yes. [He picks up one card in particular, his expression twisting for a brief moment before he sets it back down and pushes it aside with a grimace.] Aye, for all that, not a familiar face to be seen. It's the local flavor, I imagine; hard to feel a damned thing, and now I've got a bad feeling that won't go away.
[Fiddler looks up at the camera.] Any artists with a steady hand on this island? I've not got much -- a few silver jakatas, a handful of crescents, but not much else; most of my kit's still tucked up proper in Letheras, alas. I suppose I could offer my services as a solider, but that ain't much either, not here. Not sure what else to offer, but ... I think it's time to get my hands on a deck of local make; might give a little insight into what's coming.
Since I'm asking, might as well see if we've got any alchemists tucked away, as well. I don't imagine it's wise to keep expecting miracles, and my supply won't last forever. Anyone out there with experience making munitions -- anyone who knows much about them at all?

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[She understood some of what he said, none of the rest. It's very different for her, to hear the familiar mixed with the strange.]
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Trying to get a feel for this damned island, lass. Can't shake this nasty feeling I've got, but ... I've never felt this sort of resistance before.
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...do you have powers?
[She bites her lip]
Because it sounds like you do.
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[He frowns, thinks about it a bit.]
I'm no mage, if that's what you're asking. Just a ... sensitivity for trouble, I suppose.
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No, lass. I'm just a soldier. Nothing special at all.
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Is that what they call the Deck of Dragons in your world?
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I don't know if it's exactly the same. But it looks similar.
How does it work in your world?
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[He gathers up the cards, handling each one carefully, never touching a single card for too long.]
Each card corresponds to something else; a circumstance, a title -- usually a role, though sometimes it's very specific. Until recently, Anomander Rake was the Knight of Dark, as befits his status as the Mortal Sort of Mother Dark -- and had been, likely since the first Deck was produced. Hood, God of Death -- who else could be King of High House Death? Other roles ... Virgin of Death, say, change from event to event.
A proper reader of the Deck will hold a question in their mind, and attempt to seek answers through the cards. There are plenty of pretenders, but those with Talent can divine the shape of things to come, depending on their skill, as well as interference or help from the warrens themselves. Each card can be a gateway -- a true gateway -- to the power it represents.
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I see. Are you a proper read?
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Oh no, lad, not me. But then again, I try to avoid the Hood-damned things as much as possible -- at least for the serious stuff.
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There's no exit in sight, and I can't even float off this forsaken island. I should have just left you all to fend for yourselves, but no... ah, blast my bleeding heart and the one who gave it to me. But, you should be grateful that you have such a great and powerful being here to look after you so that you don't all fall off the map...
Anyway, what does it say?
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[At this point, he's decided it's best to let most of the nonsense slide -- it's a lot like dealing with Ben, sometimes, he thinks. The egos of mages, hah.]
I'm not looking to escape. I'm looking to see what's going to happen and--
[He looks up, scowling, frayed nervous warring with real worry. High House Death, aye, but that's the least of it, and he'd welcome despair if it wasn't so pointless; there's no point, even, in saying anything.] Best keep working on your floating, old man. A lot of people are going to die.
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[ He floats over to the cards, hovering over to look at them. Hrm. That does worry him, even if he would like to brush it aside. ] It is as I told a young one here... death follows all here... it is as inescapable as time. Still, does it give a number?
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[Fiddler thinks to warn him about how when you look at the cards too long, sometimes things look back. But if the old mage has any affinity for the Deck, he might find some sort of surprise, something Fid can't see.] You don't need to be a wise man to see that. No numbers; it doesn't work like that. Even when it works properly. Just a sense of ... well, it won't be pretty.
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Bah! Well, if it comes to that, I suppose smiting with unholy magic shall be our only course of action. I do hope that you're able to find shelter while our enemies are razed to the ground with my power and glory. I'd hate to have some friendly fire, after all. And really, you seem like you'd get in my way!
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You take care of the magic, then, old man -- not my skill at all. But you'd best be careful, yourself; I don't want to hear any squawking when I start shooting -- Moranth munitions don't like magic much, and cussers don't care how high and mighty you are.
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No desires to be painted yourself?
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Painted? Me? Sounds like a mess, lad.
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Do you not think there is no one who would like you upon their wall?
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[He laughs.] As a trophy, perhaps. I've made some people more than a little unhappy over the years.
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Voice; HE'S A GOOD SPORT
voice; he tries ok xD
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