RP:We Cannot Change The Cards We've Been Dealt
Summary: Krice has been gone for a few days and Taly can’t hide her moping any longer. After another night alone, her intuition calls to her to do a tarot card reading. What started out as a quiet night at home, quickly morphs into chaos as the cards reveal that Krice is in trouble and most likely injured. Without a second thought, Talyara leaves Frostmaw in search of her lover.
Lharast Cottage
It was rather pathetic how much Talyara missed Krice when he was away doing whatever things a warrior does when not engaged in battle. The cottage felt particularly empty without his presence, and as usual when he was away, the witch spent her time at home moping about. She hadn’t felt like making anything for dinner so she settles on frying up a few pieces of bacon and scrambling some eggs. When she was younger and having a particularly rough day, her mother would make her “brinner” (breakfast for dinner) as little Taly affectionately called it to try and cheer her up. She hoped it would have a similar effect this evening.
Ella, her gifted tikifhlee from Khitti, and Taylor, her inherited familiar from Lanara, circle her feet as she eats, hoping for any scraps that may accidentally fall from the witch’s plate. Unfortunately for them, Taly is a careful eater; however, she is also generous and shares the bacon with her girls. “It sure is quiet,” she laments to the pair of felines with a sigh as she trudges to the kitchen to clean her dishes from dinner.
Just as she was deciding on whether to grab a nightcap at the Frostmaw Tavern or to pour a glass of wine and crack open a new book at home, Talyara pulls up short, her hand coming to rest against her sternum as a sudden, jittery feeling overcomes her. She tries to shake it off and continues down the hall to her bedroom, deciding a trip to the tavern would be the perfect distraction. But right as she crosses the threshold of the bedroom, her emerald eyes fall on her small altar in the corner of the room and the neat stack of tarot cards in the center of the table.
Breathing out a heavy sigh, Taly rakes her left hand over her face and pads over to the table, resting her fingers on the top of the deck. Immediately, a jolt of energy zaps up the length of her arm and settles as a warmth in her chest. Tucking a loose curl behind her tapered ear, Taly knew that her plans for the evening had changed. If years of studying and practicing witchcraft had taught her anything, it was that when intuition is telling you something, you listen and follow through. And tonight, her gut wanted her to practice divination.
Divining didn’t require the same pomp and circumstance that a full blown ritual entailed, but Taly still liked to cleanse the place where she would work and set a calming ambiance, all the better to meditate. She shuffles around the bedroom and lights several illuminating candles, dousing the room in a soft, ficking glow and the scent of freshly laundered towels. The witch takes her bundle of sage and ignites the end, allowing it to catch for a moment before extinguishing the flames. The pungent, thick ribbons of smoke envelope Taly who passes the bundle thrice around her well loved cards moving in a deosil motion. She likewise passes the sage up and down her body, allowing the smoke to cleanse her energy to allow for proper divining. Dropping the still smoldering bundle in an abalone shell, Taly carefully places several crystals on each side of the table--citrine, clear quartz, tourmaline, and amethyst. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies Krice’s money pouch on the bedside table, and once more relying on her intuition, she grabs it before sitting in front of the altar.
She takes the deck of tarot cards in her left hand while holding the pouch in the other. Closing her eyes, Taly takes deep, measured breaths. She spends several minutes in meditation, clearing her mind from external thoughts and focusing her energy on channeling divine intervention on the cards. Only once it feels right does Taly open her eyes and rest the pouch in her lap and begins to shuffle the cards. Some people believed in putting the cards in a specific way and laying them in a meticulous spread, but the little witch preferred to just pull and interpret. Releasing a final breath, Taly draws the first card and places it face up on the altar.
Two of Cups. A small smile curves onto Talyara’s face as her fingertip traces the two figures, male and female, holding cups and extending them towards each other in a toast. The caduceus behind the couple represented open communication and understanding. The winged lionhead pictured above the pair meant passion, strength, and protection. While some might assume the Lovers card was for couples, Taly was always drawn to the Two of Cups for, to her, it symbolized a more mature, longer lasting relationship. This could only mean her reading had to do with Krice, most likely influenced by the presence of his coin purse (and her lingering thoughts on the warrior). Taly draws the second card.
The Tower. The smile immediately falls from her face as she studies the card with it’s image of a large tower in the midst of chaos. Lightning struck the top while two figures plummeted to the ground and fire sprung from the windows. Taly’s brows knit in consternation as her emerald eyes take in one of the most negative cards in the deck. Could this be a sign that Krice was headed into trouble? Needing clarification, she pulls a third card.
The Chariot, reversed. Taly nips on her bottom lip. The celestial clad figure sits in the vehicle, flanked by black and white sphinxes. In the upright position, the card is a positive sign, invoking ambition, control, power, and determination. However, in its reversed position, the interpretation shifts. It invokes the feeling of powerlessness and aggression; the sphinxes representing two opposing forces going against one another. Krice’s last note had said that he was going to check on the tree in Kelay. Had he met trouble and opposition while there? Quickly, Taly pulls a fourth card.
The Four of Swords, reversed. A quiet groan leaves the little witch’s lips as she lays the card atop the other three. A presumed knight lays atop a tomb with three swords pointing down towards him and the fourth sits parallel to where he rests. In the background, a stained glass depicts a woman and a child. In the upright position, this card represents rest and restoration, the fourth sword implying that the fight was over. However, in the reversed position, the image changes especially considering the previous cards. Wherever Krice was, he was burnt out, stressed, and exhausted. Taly’s heart hammers in her chest as anxiety began to grip her. She is tempted to call an end to the reading but something in her gut tells her to pull one last card.
Ten of Swords. Talyara is on her feet in an instant, upending the pouch in her lap so the clatter of coins echoes on the floorboards as they roll away in different directions and the remainder of the deck of cards join the debris on the floor. Her mind begins to spin out of control in a panic as the image of the final card burns in her mind. A figure laying face first in the ground with ten swords stabbing into his back, the Ten of Swords was one of the most ominous cards in the deck, and if this reading was any indication, Krice was not only in trouble, he was injured. She needed to find him. And fast.
Talyara tears around the room at record speed, alternating between extinguishing her sage bundle and candles, and haphazardly throwing clothes into a bag. She wasn’t even sure what she packed before moving quickly into the kitchen and adding a flask of water and a few pieces of dried beef to her pack. “Girls I have to leave,” she tells her feline companions in a shaky voice. Throwing the window open, Talyara calls out into the expanse of snow for a certain wyvern. “Gyl! We have to go to Kelay! Krice is in trouble!” Without waiting for the familiar trill of agreement, Taly slams the window shut and moves towards the door to tug on her boots, barely pausing to lace them properly, followed by the securing of her knife to her hip. Lastly, she swings her fur-lined cloak off the peg on the wall and fastens it at her throat. Without even a backwards glance, she throws the door open, locks it, and only has to walk a few paces before coming upon Gylworliath who is already crouched down waiting for Taly to climb up.
The little witch immediately clamors onto the saddle before settling herself securely atop the mount. Talyara grasps the pommel with her left hand for stability and reaches out to give the side of Gyl’s neck a pat. “Let’s go find Krice.”