Chase stared up at the man... the god?

He could be mad. But madmen didn't have the power to freeze the world.

She stretched her arm up, took his hand, and let him help her to his feet.

He let go of her once she was up, and cast a sad look towards her pack. “Ah, I've gone and caused damage to your possessions. Here, let me fix that.” He fiddled around with his rings, then touched the scraps of the pack on her shoulder. “Activate Mend.”

“I suppose,” Chase said, still not quite willing to believe that a god was right there in front of her, “the next question would be what do you want from me?”

“Again, you ask the wrong question,” Hoon said, returning to his chair, and motioning her to the one she'd just vacated. He stared over to the crackling fire, squinted at the fox toy caught in midair, and took a pull from his mug. “Not sure what my brother's up to, here.”

“What?”

Hoon smiled at her. “Still the wrong question.”

“And what's the correct one?”

“The correct question is what can I do for you? And the answer is, lots. If... you go through with what you were planning.”

“I... I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You do, you just don't know that you do, because you don't know what I'm talking about. Not yet, anyway.” Hoon smiled. “Bear in mind, the only thing I want from you is for you to be yourself. That will serve my purposes just fine.”

Chase flushed, and looked down.

Oddly enough, though the situation was weird, the tension was high, and her emotions were running the gamut between fear and confusion, the words felt good.

For the longest time she'd heard only things like “Why can't you be like your sister,” and “you had best start thinking about the future and change your ways,” or even “you'll grow up in time.”

To hear someone say, someone suggest that she was fine being herself... well, that was something, faint encouragement though it may be.

One of the cards caught her eye on the floor. A young man in mismatched clothing, upside down. An ember popped from the fire and landed near the pasteboard, and she gasped, jumped down, and started gathering the cards up.

“Oh! Fortuna cards!” Hoon exclaimed, and happily knelt down next to her, helping her get them away from the risky flames. “I love these things! They've gotten me laid so many times!”

Chase stared at him, and he grinned back. “I am still not flirting with you,” he clarified. “You ARE too young, after all. But here, since I have made you uncomfortable, allow me to offer a gift to make it up to you. Do you know how to use Fortuna cards?”

“Gram always said they were story cards,” Chase said, regaining her seat, and putting the wooden case on the table. “You lay them out and you tell a story. She used to tell all sorts of stories with them. It was... good.”

“That is one use, certainly. But they have another. The cards can tell you about the future, or the past, or anything you care to ask about.” Hoon's fingers danced, and somehow the cards that Chase had replaced in the case were now added to the ones he'd collected. They riffled and snapped, waltzing back and forth and around his fingers, before he put the deck down on the table. “Shuffle them, if you would. Just let your mind wander, while you do so. Give them to me when you feel that you are done.”

Bemused, she followed his instructions, then watched as he dealt one out.

“This card is you, Chase Berrymore.”

It was the youth with mismatched clothes, looking confused with life and standing in an uncertain pose. The title on the card declared it to be “The Noob.”

Hoon continued, his rich voice filling the still room. “You have a journey ahead. A new path. It might not be a physical journey, but one of understanding... a new path in life does not always require travels, although the best ones often do.” He smiled. “I may be a bit biased there, though. I am the god of travel and trade, you see.”

“Of course,” Chase said. Whether he was actually a god or not, it seemed like a good policy to humor anyone who could stop time. She flicked her eyes over to the table full of unmoving halvens, then back again, hopefully before he could notice.

But he was already turning over the next card, putting it above the Noob. This card was a raging fire with a face, consuming a forest and laughing about it. Various small animals fled for their lives around the edges of the card. This card was upside down, and Hoon nodded as if he'd expected to see it.

“The Elemental, but it is reversed,” Hoon said. “A big disaster that has nothing to do with you and no personal feelings... best avoided, or met with unwavering devotion to your fight. At least, it would be if it weren't reversed.” He sucked on his teeth for a bit. “This card is what will happen if nothing changes. You will be consumed, caught up in the troubles. And because it is reversed, you are especially in danger. You may not get a chance to redo it if you choose wrongly.”

Chase blinked. “It's that bad? Will the Camerlengo help?”

“The what now? Is he an ally of sorts?”

“She.”

“Well, you are in luck, because the next position to be filled is the position for friends, allies, and other influential figures.” He flipped the card, and set it down to the left of the Noob. “This one is reversed also?” He said, eyebrows lifting.

The card showed a regal man sitting at a desk, holding a glowing contract with one hand and offering a hand to a crowd of people dressed in similar fashion to the noobs. To the other side of the desk a line of people dressed in matching tabards walked out a door, swords out and ready for trouble. “The Guildmaster is a symbol of authority, someone who's in charge and responsible,” Hoon mused. “Sometimes it can refer to a hierarchy, or a greater order to matters. But reversed... you've got someone who's shirked their authority, or lost their rightful spot at the top of the pile. Your best ally to survive the coming disaster is a king without a castle, it would seem."

“The Camerlengo isn't a noble, she's a servant of a noble,” Chase pointed out. “She checks us to make sure we're following the law of decades, and swears in new subjects for Lady Floria when they turn sixteen.”

“The law of decades?” Hoon asked. “Something tells me I'm going to hate this, but can you sum it up for me?”

Chase thought for a moment. “We are permitted only one job for every ten years of our life. If we exceed that, we must pay heavy taxes or go to jail.”

Hoon snorted. “Yes, I was right. Two of my least favorite things, all up in one! Stupid laws and taxes. Ah. Well, no sense complaining about that. The next card position will detail the crucial choice, at the heart of your situation...”

The next card went below the Noob, and was also upside down. It portrayed a soldier wearing an officer's badge, nervous and facing an onrushing enemy charge. But he stood fast, and his men were behind him, readied to meet the attack.

“The page of warriors!” Hoon said. “I was wondering if you had any minor arcana in here. Now this is normally a good card, but... like the others...”

“He's reversed,” said Chase, folding her arms.

“Now you're getting it! Reversal isn't always a bad thing, but in this case, in this position, it's indicating a bad choice. You will be called upon to fight, to help others fight, or something like that. And if you choose poorly, it won't go well for you. Or anyone else for you.”

“I don't know the first thing about fighting!”

“Oh, that's easy! The first thing is not to die.”

Chase just glared at him. Hoon laughed, and tapped the last open spot, to the right of the Noob. “This position shows an enemy, or opposing force in the situation. It doesn't always indicate a person, it could be an obstacle or setback. And in this case it is...” He flipped over the card.

A man in glowing, gothic armor wielding a sword half as big as himself stabbed the Noob in the back, laughing as he died. The title below proclaimed it “The Griefer.”

“Ooh. No, that's a person,” Hoon said, leaning back. “That's a bad one, too, reversed or no. The Griefer represents a person who doesn't scruple to murder, to bully, or otherwise abuse their power. In fact, they take joy in it! Especially if it's unfair, or meaningless.”

“That's pretty horrible.” Chase gnawed her lip. “How accurate is this? Is this all going to happen?”

Hoon spread his hands. “It's a possible future, one of many. But in my experience, the cards are usually right more often than not. Especially considering your job.”

“What, they're accurate because I'm a cook?”

“No, no. Are you? Hm, that's good. But no, they're more accurate because of the job you'll be accepting very soon.”

“And what job is that?”

“Do you know what an Oracle is?”

“I've never heard of that job.”

He sighed. “Your education is somewhat lacking. Ah well, you'll figure it out.” He handed the cards back to her. “And that's one gift down. Two left.”

“Wait, what?”

“I am allowed to give you gifts, Chase Berrymore. The echoes of the future are strong enough to pull me here, and allow some discussion before the fact. It has been so for each of my Oracles, and will be so for all that follow. And along with discussion, I can give up to three gifts. Mending your backpack would be one, but well, I broke it in the first place. So that one was on the house. Casting your fortune, that was a gift, no way around it. So you get two more gifts from me.” He grinned, white teeth bright against his face.

Chase thought furiously. “You say I'm going to be an Oracle.”

“Oh yes. Well, maybe. It's up to you whether or not you pick the job. If you don't, then the memory of meeting me will fade like a dream. It will be as if it never happened. And any gifts that I pass on to you will find their way to someone else. Just like these did.” He tapped the cards, and Chase's eyes went wide.

“You're saying that my grandmother could have been an Oracle?”

“Hahhaha! You think you're the only halven to long for something more? To want to venture outside their comfort zone, and just simply walk away from stagnation? But in the end she couldn't leave your grandfather. And here you are, as a result.” He scratched his chin. “The question remains whether or not you're going to make the same mistake.”

“If she'd left, I wouldn't be here,” Chase shook her head. “If what you're saying is true, then I exist because of what you call a mistake.”

Hoon shrugged. “Good things and bad things come from any decision. But I think you'd get more use out of the job, anyway.”

“What is it exactly that Oracles do?”

“Clerics borrow divine power. They ask for miracles from us, and we grant them. Oracles ARE divine power. They are of us. They are of our principles so much, that they can... bend the rules. Healing, yes, some of that. Helping others, sure, that's not too hard to do. But the real trick to Oracles comes with time, Chase Berrymore. Time is not how most people think it is. If you take that final step, you will see it through my eyes. And nothing will ever be the same. Future, past, all will blur together, and you will bring visions and possibilities to those who need them.” Hoon's smile grew. “If you do it right, anyway.”

Chase looked to her cards. Do I want to be an Oracle? Can I believe what he's saying? She closed her eyes, tried to force her mind to calm, and thought it through. “The cards told the future. Told my fortune,” she said, finally.

“I used them to do that, yes.”

“Can you show me how to do that?”

“Hm. Hm!” Hoon seemed pleased by the request. “Time is slow now, but not limitless. I do not have time to train you. And the next two times we meet, time will be shorter still and you'll have more pressing questions to ask.”

“What?” Chase asked.

“I didn't tell you that? You'll meet me twice more, if you have the courage to go through with it. This is the meeting before, we'll have a meeting during, and one at the end of things.” Hoon folded his hands. “But worry about the now, that's my advice. You want to learn how to cast the cards... I can do that.” He rummaged in the pockets of his robe, and pulled out a book. It was a thick, small manual, with a black velvet cover, and silver cards traced out around raised letters. The title read “Mysterees of ye Fortuna fore thee addlepated. A handbooke of instruction written by Madame Silver-ravven Wind-wolfe.”

Chase took it, almost reverently. A book! Just for her! This was a treasure beyond compare, especially in Bothernot.

“Between you and me, the author's name was actually Prudence Hogwart, and her enthusiasm far outstripped her spelling and grammar. But still, her heart was in the right place, and she could make those cards sing.” Hoon chuckled. “Mind you, she didn't learn everything about the Fortuna. Once you get good enough with them you can figure out new tricks on your own, but this'll get you started.”

Hoon shrugged. “All right, that's the second gift. What would you like for the third?”

Chase swallowed, feeling her nerves on edge. She'd thought up this request earlier, remembering the book she'd read, where Jinkies the Jongleur had tricked the evil djinn into giving her what she needed to escape the Caves of Cooti. Hoon certainly seemed friendlier than the evil djinn had, but she was still dealing with something very powerful and very dangerous.

Besides, she hoped, if her request was the wrong thing to ask he wouldn't smite her down, right? He wanted her to take the job, otherwise he wouldn't be here in the first place.

So Chase steeled her nerves, and put on her most winning smile. “I think I'd like to have the gift that will be the most helpful to me to survive the upcoming danger you told me about.”

Hoon stared at her for a few seconds, and Chase strove to keep her grin wide, and her face free of guile.

Then the god laughed, slapping the table. “Hahahaha! Next you'll be asking for more gifts! Ah, child. You're trying to game the system a bit, but I don't mind. In fact, that's the sort of thing I applaud.” He leaned in, conspiratorially, and his breath was scented with unknown spices, sweet and exotic as he whispered. “Rules were meant to be tested, hm? And if a little gain falls your way as a result, where's the harm?”

LUCK+1

Chase let out a breath, as he withdrew, pulling out a large pack from nowhere, and rummaging around in it. She was certain now that he was a god. She'd raised her luck not an hour ago, and here it was going up again! That was such a huge lot of experience, she didn't see how anything but a god could be the cause of it.

Oblivious to her inner struggle, Hoon continued. “Of course, I can't just come out and give you the best absolute thing. I don't know which future you'll end up in, for one,” Hoon squinted one eye as he pulled objects out of the pack and dropped them back in. “And for another thing, there ARE rules and the difference between bending and breaking them is something even I have to respect now and again. If I just flat out gave you an artifact, then Ag— ” he stopped and cleared his throat. “Then my rival will never let me hear the end of it. Or she will take the opportunity to do the both of us mischief down the road. So here's what I'm going to do...”

He pulled out three things, and set them on the table, one by one.

The first was a small box, embroidered with stitches over its cloth cover.

The second thing was a dagger, with a blade easily ten inches long. It glowed with a golden light, and its hilt was carved with images of shattered skulls.

The third thing was a bag of gold, fat yellow coins spilling out of the cloth, winking in the firelight. More gold than Chase had ever seen in one place. Gold enough to solve every problem she had, then go take care of ones she didn't.

“This is a deluxe sewing kit, with a mirror and a tiny violin's sounding board inside,” Hoon tapped the cloth-covered box. “The sounding board is loose and ready to be sewn into... well, you'll see. Maybe.” He moved on to the dagger. “This does horrible, horrible things to undead. And this... well, these are fairly self-explanatory.” He picked up a few coins, and let them fall between his fingers. “Any of these would solve a potential problem in your near future.”

“Or beyond,” Chase said, eyes fixated on the gold. There were problems that huge amounts of money couldn't solve, but it was hard to think of them at the minute.

Hoon took one last pull of his mug, then he went over to the table of frozen halvens, and downed two of their drinks, one after the other, chugging with abandon. He tossed a handful of coins on their table, and brought two more mugs back.

Chase calculated the odds of snatching one of the golden coins while he was gone, but decided against it. She'd never actually flat-out stolen something, and she wasn't about to start now. Not with a god's displeasure on the line, anyway. Besides, she thought she could see how this was going to go, and she had a one in three chance of getting what she wanted, anyway.

Sure enough, when Hoon returned, he put a mug over each item, then started moving them around, wood grinding on wood as the mugs whirled across the table. Chase kept her eyes on the one with the coins under it. It was easy, at first. The coins clinked together whenever the mugs moved.

Then the mugs sped up impossibly, the coins slamming together so loudly that she couldn't track them by their noise. Even with her ears full forward, sticking straight out to catch the noise, it was impossible.

Then the mugs came to rest, and the coins fell silent all at once. Chase took a breath. “I pick one now, don't I?”

“Your fate is in your hands,” Hoon said, his voice soft now. “It always has been.”

She studied him for a long moment, but his face was impassive. Chase looked from him to the mugs, then back again.

Here goes, Chase thought, and before she could lose her nerve her hand darted out, snake-swift, and she tapped the center mug. “That one.”

Hoon nodded, and lifted the mug.

And Chase's breath came out in a hiss of dismay, as the god revealed the sewing kit. “But I can't even sew!” She whined.

“Nonetheless,” Hoon said, satisfied. He pulled the other mugs back, scooping the contents from under them so quickly that she didn't get a clear look. For a second she had the irrational notion that Hoon had cheated her, but it passed.

He flipped open the kit's lid, and showed her the tiny mirror, the neatly-stacked spools of thread, and the glittering needles. A small, compact mirror shown in the light.

“I suppose I would have had a lot of trouble explaining how I got ahold of a glowing knife or a fortune in gold, anyway,” Chase sighed, trying to convince herself that this was the better option.

“Three gifts I have given you, Chase Berrymore,” Hoon said, his face growing grave and stern. “Once I have visited you. Twice more I shall do so. A great responsibility will be yours if you follow my path, but I can guarantee you one thing.” He paused then, and the silence stretched on.

And Chase knew a cue when she heard one. “And what is that one thing?”

“It won't be boring.” Then he guffawed, slapped the table, and was gone, just like that.

Time returned.

The halvens moved again.

Mrs. Dijetto straightened up.

Then the fox toy fell to the floor, and all heads turned around at the motion. Chase blushed and scooped it up, plopping it on the table in front of the sewing kit. She twisted, pulled her pack off, and scooped everything in there, fox, box, cards. and book all in one smooth motion. Muttering “Sorry, sorry,” she leaped up from the table and ran out the door.

Midway down the street, two things occurred to her.

The first thing was that her panicked flight was attracting attention and stares, and she slowed down. Small towns had big mouths, and if she kept acting strangely she'd be the focus of gossip for weeks to come.

The second thing was that one of the gifts Hoon had offered her was a knife that was good at killing undead things.

Which meant, that if she believed him, and the gifts were calculated to help her survive the crisis to come, that she'd need something that could kill undead things.

Suddenly the day seemed a lot colder to Chase.

She couldn't risk waiting for the Camerlengo. What could she say to the Baroness' servant, anyway? Hello, a god showed up and gave me a sewing kit and a book about mystical stuff that might get me burned at the stake, and told me that a great crisis is going to hit us, and that I'm pretty sure he meant undead are coming— It was about that point that Chase's train of thought went to torches and pitchforks, and if there was one thing Bothernot had a'plenty, it was pitchforks.

Chase turned things around and around in her head, looking for the angle. Looking for the way to play this that would keep her and everyone she loved safe.

And she found that she couldn't. Not alone.

Well then, Chase decided. It was time to get some help.

Five minutes of searching later turned up Greta, holding a ladder while a very cross-looking young halven man stretched himself up, adorning the edge of a roof with knotted ribbons. The work the pair had done so far flapped in the wind, all up and down the street.

“Greta, I need your help,” Chase said. “Gerben, you'll be fine on your own, right?”

“What?” The youth asked.

“Great, thanks! See you!” Chase grabbed Greta and tugged, almost bringing the ladder over as Gerben shouted and fought to keep his balance, dropping ribbons to flutter everywhere as he clung to the roof for dear life.

Greta resisted, but Chase was relentless, and for once the younger sister won the match. Or perhaps Greta just didn't want to tear her frock, it was hard to say.

Once they were down the street, Chase let go, and Greta slapped her sister's head.

Chase winced, and rubbed her head. “Ow! Hey, come on. We don't have time for games.”

“That's what I was going to say to you, Chase! What's gotten into you?”

“Gods only know. Well, one of them, anyway. He was kind of weird.”

“What?”

Chase shook her head. “We don't have much time. Danger's coming, and it's big. We need to find out what it is and how to stop it. Or else... or else I don't know what's going to happen!”

Greta took Chase's shoulders in her hands, and bent down a bit, to look her in the eyes. “Calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“Oh Greta.” Chase hugged her big sister, and after a surprised second, Greta hugged her back. “I... I can't tell you. It's all too wild. Too strange. But I need your help, or else really bad things are going to happen. I know it, I just know it!”

“Okay,” Greta said, and disengaged herself from her sibling's arms. “So what do we do about it?”

Chase took a long breath and let it out. “It's the woods. Everything centers around the woods. We need to go out there, follow where Dad and the others went, and see what's really happening. Not the direction they sent us out in, but the other way. They're hiding something. Once we find out what it is, we'll know how to fix things.”

“All right.” Greta sighed, and checked her pockets, pulling out rolls. “I'm down a few, but this should be enough for a couple of hours.”

“I haven't done as much, you can share some of mine if it comes to it.” She shifted her pack on her back...

...and for a few seconds, it seemed to wiggle.

Chase almost checked it then, and if she had, she would have been very, very surprised at what was going on in there.

But she didn't. She had far too much on her mind, as she pointed. “Let's go.”

The two sisters headed out into the woods, leaving Bothernot behind them and passing beneath the brown-leafed branches, leaves crunching underfoot as they ventured into the unknown.

CHASE'S CHARACTER SHEET

Spoiler: Spoiler

Name: Chase Berrymore

Age: 15 Years

Jobs:

Halven level 8, Cook level 4

Attributes / Pools / Defenses

Strength: 40 Constitution: 28 / Hit Points: 68 / Armor: 0

Intelligence: 45 Wisdom: 54 / Sanity: 99 / Mental Fortitude: 25

Dexterity: 59 Agility: 51 / Stamina: 110 / Endurance: 0

Charisma: 69 Willpower: 36 / Moxie: 105 / Cool: 25

Perception: 43 Luck: 71 / Fortune: 114 / Fate: 16

Generic Skills

Brawling – Level 7

Climb – Level 15

Dagger – Level 2

Dodge – Level 9

Fishing – Level 14

Ride – Level 10

Stealth – Level 11

Swim – Level 6

Throwing – Level 18

Halven Skills

Fate's Friend – Level N/A

Small in a Good Way – Level N/A

Cook Skills

Cooking - Level 14

Freshen - Level 10

Unlocked Jobs

Archer, Farmer, Grifter, Herbalist, Teacher