41. The Deck of Many Conflicts
General Summary
May 5 Session:
Saeldor closes the eyes, lays him down carefully. Cri and Mika are with you in the doorway
Trying to gauge time, Saeldor notices the body's stiff, starting to smell.
“Is this…is this the source of the hex?” Mirage croaks
"Seems that way." Saeldor's grim as they straighten, as much as they can under the sloped attic ceiling, bending over the flat stone and its crackling spell circle.
"Don't touch it" - Mika
"Wasn't gonna. Mirage, can we get a breeze?" Saeldor's looking at the cards that are flashing, charged in some way within the circle. They seem only half-here; translucent and flickering.
“…yeah.”
Mika has definitely clocked your distress and bumps your hand in an offer to hold it if it won't interfere with your spell.
I snatch it. The light breeze she sends interacts with the spell circle here in a way that makes the cards not just bound in place by the regular forces of gravity. There were three cards in the circle. You push them free with a gust of wind; it feels like they're sticking for a second, like static cling, but then they come free, and as they do, three things happen:
One, Amir's face and presence, his overwhelming animosity, flash through your mind.
Two, in a swift sequence, you feel what I can only describe as a competence boost. It's like when you flew through the storm with your mother; feeling the storm within that Amir's cage made you forget, realizing your own power, but for everything. You're for a moment, hyperconscious of your dextrous lock picking fingers, your lean, dodging knife-fighting muscles, your ability to float without a sound, to command the elements, to charm a crowd - it feels elevated, enhanced.
Lastly, reality feels, for a disorienting moment, flexible. You stand in a doorway conscious that you could have left it shut, experiencing simultaneous realities where you stepped through and were greeted by a living, disgruntled wizard defensive over his experiments, versions where Ta'lok is with you, arguing sternly about the effects those experiments are having, and innumerable other possibilities
Then the present reality reasserts itself, and you're back where you were. Everyone is staring at each other, shook
“Whoa.”
Saeldor would pick up the body. It seems that their priority might be proper burial, a ceremony.
Mika does a counter-rotation with Mirage sweeping the room, picking the cards up as he goes. There's a bookcase that's mostly empty, the lower shelves have some lab equipment; a small crucible, some jars of components, etc. There's also a writing desk with a few loose leaf notes in a thin, scratchy hand (no drawers). The room's pretty austere, that's pretty much it for features besides the circular stone
On the body, Saeldor finds a crystal ball in a forward pocket of his robes that's probably his casting focus. Not a lot else on him; small component pouch.
Saeldor looks up as you and Mika complete the sweep.
"Clear?"
Cri is kneeling with her hands pressed against the sides of the table. The spell circle is slowly fading,the shape becoming irregular as she works her magic to call the stone back to its natural state, separating it from the runic magic on its surface
“Clear.” Mika's been looking at the face of each card as he picks it up. He IS sweeping the room, but it's like, search, card, glance, pocket. There's a hesitation as he's looking at the last one. A stack of thirteen regular playing-cards would be pocket-sized, but these are sturdier, and larger, like tarot. So he just holds it in his hand, and adds the thirteenth card. And as soon as he does there's a weird energy in the room - you feel your adrenaline spike, it feels like anything could happen. Anything. And you're not sure if that's a good thing.
I have never been more terrified in my life, Mirage thinks to herself
There's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but the rest of him looks focused, watching Saeldor who as ta'lok's right hand he views as the de-facto leader for this mission.
"Right on." They're watching the warlock with concern that's creating canyon-deep wrinkles on their forehead. I'm wondering if Saeldor would ask to hold the deck until they get back to 'base' as it were Maybe they're thinking about it when Mika comments that they should do a full-room sweep on the way out, make sure shit's properly dispelled.
"Hey brother," the opening stops Mika in the doorway. He glances backward, suspicion weighting his frown.
"Why don't you let me hold onto that until we can get back to base and talk it over?"
Deflection King is just going to look them in the eye and say "That's okay, I've got it." and then go to continue moving back into the rest of the house.
“That's a powerful magic item you've got there, brother.”
"Sure is."
Mika says this, and then is like, a pace or two past the doorway and nobody's following, and he's got this like, exasperated you know that kind of small arm-flap-shrug kind of motion?
"Fucks sake, I'm not planning to draw on the fly. I'm a fuckup, not an idiot."
"Hey I'm a fuckup, not an asshole/bigot/idiot/quitter".
“You are neither.” -Cri
"I know, I know, can we finish up here?"
We nod
"Okay." a 'shall-we-then' kind of motion The group's quiet as you sweep the house. Whatever magic seems to have been affecting it is clear. It feels eerie, in the way empty, lived-in spaces always feel eerie, but there's no more voice, the mirror in the dressing room is normal, the closets have only brooms and spare linens, even the pantry that so unnerved Cri before is just a stone-floored room with a wine rack and preserves.
We stick around to help bury the body. Cri maybe does some earth moving to expedite the process Saeldor conducts a short but respectful ceremony. Cri manages the overgrown weeds and earth, and Saeldor lays the old man down a solid six feet.
Yeah, you knew his name and vocation but little else about him. But he was a person, he wasn't trying to make his house dangerous for anyone, and that's what matters to Saeldor.
The mood is sombre as you head back to the road.
Ta’lok is anxious to see us, but is hiding it. He looks at the group as we enter, sees we’re uninjured and just says, “Report.” Standing tall with his hands behind his back
At this, we’re all glancing at Mika.
"Got the place clear. Not haunted, not by spirits, anyway. Seems the master of the house was running some experiments and got in over his head."
He wouldn't have had the Deck in his hand the whole way home, he probably got some twine or something out of his bag and tied it together so he could put it in his pack or pocket without pulling a card by accident
“Experiments? What kind?”
"Buddy was interested in chaos magic; artifacts that do things spells can't." At that point he slides the bound Deck out of his pack and turns it over in his hand. The same adrenaline-feeling returns with it. "Might've bit off more than he could chew."
“And the wizard?”
"He was trying to disassemble this," Mika continues, "disentangle the magic from the medium to get a closer look. It blew up in his face, went flying all over the house. Best I can figure, anyway. Dead, unfortunately. Picked a bad place to start, or just got unlucky. Either way."
Rochelle hears the others are back and comes downstairs around this point. Mika locks eyes with her as soon as she appears. The corner of his mouth turns up in a smile, and her eyes widen. Mika's a fidgeter, he's flipping the deck over and over in one hand not like, quickly/agitatedly, but constantly.
Saeldor might fill Ta’lok in on the significance of the deck. “We saw some of the cards. FLAMES, FOOL.”
"Also KNIGHT, STAR, FATES," Mika points out, with a touch of defensiveness.
He was reading titles as he picked them up. Saeldor is probably familiar with stories of the Deck as a fey game, equal parts prank and entertainment. Getting a mortal to draw from the deck can have varying results from the mortal's POV, but it's always interesting to observe from the fey POV there's stories of people finding Decks in dungeons etc too, but that it's a fey invention is a pretty common theory, and tracks.
"Boss, listen. I don't need you or anyone else-" side glance at the Paladin, who probably made a few somewhat halfass attempts to breach the topic on the way back "-to tell me it's risky. But if even half the stories about this thing are true..."
Ta’lok waits for him to finish the sentence - they all do.
He looks around at them in frustration, like he shouldn't have to spell it out. "-then it's a way out!"
“How many cards are in the deck.” Talok asks
"Thirteen."
He hisses through his teeth. “Not great odds.”
"Looking at the dormant cards doesn't tell me what they do. But the names of the ones we did interact with seemed relevant," Mika points out. "On that basis, STAR, FATES, and more dubiously VIZIER all sound relevant."
“Guesswork at best.”
"Never said it wasn't." Mika's got a stubborn set to his face, he's frustrated
“And it’s worth it to you?” He glances at Mirage
Who was just about to slip away, standing several steps behind the group.
Mika glances back and finds her trailing, and his expression is a plea for understanding that doesn't fully clear when he looks back to face the boss.
"Ta'lok, I have been looking. For a way out of this shit. For three. Years. And all of the options I've found have led out, but not forward. Until. This. It's bad odds, but it's not zero odds. Yes, they say there's a card that calls Death. True, it's almost certainly the one that killed the wizard. What "calling Death" actually means is also guesswork. Instant lights-out doesn't sound terribly entertaining, but what do I know - they Say there's all kinds of other bad shit in there. And frankly, most of it sounds survivable at worst, certainly preferable to continuing like this" and the last statement with a violent tap on his temple. • • Ta’lok takes stock of everyone in the room, sees a bedraggled Saeldor and Cri, a crying Marwa, an angry and scared Mika, and a pensive Rochelle - who looks at Mika, and he glances at her, and then turns to where Mirage is, like she mentally tapped his shoulder. Seeing her tears, he opens his mouth, says nothing, closes it. He'll walk over to her if she'll let him • • Cri's still within social distance but he don't give a fuck rn. His back's to the others, looking to meet your eyes, earnest, pleading • • "Marwa,” • • She looks like she’s trying to keep her shit together so hard • • "I don't wanna die. I meant what I told you. But I want to live, not just survive." • • “You don’t even like cards.” She burbles. “Games with luck and chance.” • • He goes to hug her, she hugs him back. He sees how upset she is, wants to do whatever he can to give her an anchor • • "Maybe I'm feeling lucky," he murmurs, half-joking. • • She buries her face in his shoulder • • Ta’lok watches this and looks to Mika. “Not tonight. Let’s talk again tomorrow.” • • He nods, and doesn't let go of her. "Sure boss." • • "I'll sleep on it." He can't resist the belligerence lol • • That gets a huff of watery laughter in his shoulder. • • He manages a smile, lets go of her. • • When Ta'lok says this, everyone recognizes that it's a dismissal. He’ll confer with Saeldor and probably Cri with the ‘idiots’ out of the room. • • Cri will squeeze Marwa's shoulder, but if Marwa doesn't indicate that she wants her to stay will move downstairs with Saeldor, who gives Mika a long, considering look before they fall in step with Ta'lok • • Rochelle can clock that this isn't the time to solicit detail from Mika. She trails after Ta'lok's crew. She'll eavesdrop or if confronted probably play the "I have a stake in this too I deserve to know what's going on" card. • • They move into the hallway by default, probably on autopilot. Mirage is sniffling, trying to compose herself, rubs her face. • • “Sorry. Long day.” • • "You can say that again." • • He hesitates a sec, then asks, "You mad at me?" • • She shakes her head and whispers “No.” • • Relief. Minor. He was pretty sure she wasn't, but she had a right to be, all the same. He glances at the rooms-in-general, like, the doors. We can say they're equidistant between his room and the one she shares with Cri. "You wanna sit down? We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to, but..." • • She grabs his hand and walks over to his room and nods. • • her decisiveness startles him a bit, he fumbles the key a little, but gets the door open. • • “Oh. Sorry - is that okay, if I hang out? I just don’t want to go down there yet, and I can’t sleep.”
It’s nearly sundown. Long shadows, daylight's turning orangey. • • "Yeah no, it's fine, me either." She maybe wonders if he said he doesn't want to sleep again because he's unwilling to give up the insomnia jokes. He opens the door and does an 'after-you' gesture. • • She goes in, he steps after you, shuts the door soft behind him. • She walks around the space slowly, gathering her thoughts. It’s a small room, maybe 10x10. Twin Size bed against one wall. Small desk with a chair, little table with a washbasin, one window. • • He stays where he is, watching you. • • “I think if I was in your shoes, I’d have drawn from the deck already.” She breaks the silence. • • Surprise. His eyebrows raise • • “Away from home, my thoughts their own hell, I’d have jumped out of any window to escape it.” She continues. Here, he can clock the acknowledgement she’s making of ending one’s own life as a possible window. • • Definitely not what he expected to hear. He kind of winces, looks at his boots. • • “I don’t know what this is like for you, Mika. I’ll never know. You’ve done so well protecting me and everyone else.” She gives a helpless shrug. • • She remembers the early days - Mika wasn't always as cautious and smart on the battlefield as he is now. At least one time where she shoved him out of the way of a volley or something "You got a death wish or something??" • • This is her looking at him and speaking directly to it. • • “And I promise you that I meant what I said in there. If you want to draw from this thing, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll fight whatever comes out, if you die I’ll drag your body to a cleric. If you forget us, I’ll make you love us again.”
She’s looking right at him as she says this, notices he was looking down from when she acknowledged death as an exit, but saying she will let him draw if he wants to gets her an eye contact. When she says this, he crosses to wherever she's standing,
"Marwa, I-"
Words fail. He takes her hands.
"If I had a better option, I'd take it. I meant what I said; I want to live." it has the strain, the emphasis of a conscious decision. "I want to live by your side, but not - steadying breath, keeps it together.
“I know.”
Swallows, sees the comprehension in her face, sighs.
"I meant what I said. There's nothing you can't ask of me."
“I know. You remember in the mansion, when I opened those two trapped doors?”
He nods. Hard to forget. He thought he might lose you.
“Those were scary. For both of us. But they were both efficient uses of my skills. I’ve practiced for years on all sorts of different locks, under all kinds of circumstances. As dangerous as that was, my odds of success were good.” I look at him. “It feels manipulative and wrong of me to ask you not to pull from the deck, so I won’t. I don’t know what it feels like to live with that thing in my head. But this…drawing from this deck isn’t an efficient use of anyone’s skills. There’s no practice, no one to reason with. You have as much chance to die as you do to be granted a wish.”
He looks like he's got things to say, but he holds them back. Sits down. Has a face like "we doing this?" (re: talking through the odds)
"That's not technically accurate."
She gestures for him to explain.
"Pretty much every reliable account - such as they are - puts the odds of a 'good' draw versus a 'bad' one at around fifty-fifty. Makes sense for something you're not supposed to be able to play odds on. But if this is a deck of thirteen, then one is more likely than the other. Let's be pessimists and say a bad draw's more likely. 45/55, then." Just looking at you.
"Of the 'bad' options, we do know there's a card that can kill you. It appears in a lot of stories, and it's the simplest explanation for what we found up there. It seems extremely unlikely to me that there is more than one card with the same effect. Which means the odds of drawing that card are still one in thirteen. A little better than 7%. We all take worse odds than that on a regular basis. And I meant what I said when I said the other 'bad' draws I've heard of sound survivable at worst, some of them honestly sound like minor nuisances. Wizard draws and loses his magic - yes, please. Cocky noble draws and all his wealth crumbles to dust. Disintegrate all six coins in my pocket, see if I give a fuck, you know? And I feel like we're under-focusing on the 45% chance of a good draw. Even if I didn't pull a solution - and I do think there's more than one in there - good is good, it could get me closer."
“I don’t know enough about math to dispute this.” She gives a rueful smile
He shrugs, gives a similar smile back. "Not really my department either, if I'm honest. Get the boss to check my numbers tomorrow. You're still right that it comes down to chance, but it's the first chance I've found."
I nod
“I know. And like I said - I wouldn’t have hesitated. But I don’t know that the first door is always the best door.”
I look considering. “Do you know what your wish is?”
He looks tired. "Mostly. Phrasing's important, I hear."
“Would make sense. Altering reality, and all. Have you run it by anybody?”
He drops your eye contact. "Not yet. I'm... still missing some information that makes it difficult to wish it away completely, to be honest."
I give him a curious look as he's examining the floorboards, leaning elbows on knees.
"This thing goes back a long way. It's hard to pin down how it started. I um. I haven't been able to rule out heredity."
I raise my eyebrow at that.
“Has your dad ever said anything to make you think…he knows?”
He shakes his head. "Dad's as mundane as they come. Magically speaking."
“Not to take us completely off topic - since this is obviously something you’ve considered a lot. Which, of course you have. You're Mika, you think everything through - ”
He gives a rueful smile.
“ -but do you know anything about Lathander?”
He looks up, confused in a 'where-you-going-with-this' way. Not guarded but not fully open, either.
"Heard the name. Why?"
“He’s not a wish, obviously. Or a deck of cards. But I heard Saeldor mention him a while ago. God of the dawn, of the sun, of new beginnings. History of extending his grace to help mortals looking to do good not just for themselves, but for all people.”
He now sees where you're going with this and looks tired again. "If you're going to ask if I've considered petitioning a deity the answer is no, and not because none of them live on Prime, either."
“Okay. How come?”
He starts to reply and then backs it up, considering. He's remembering her indignation at Amir's chapel. 'because none of them give a fuck' is probably not an answer she'd take well.
"I don't know what your experience with gods has been," he says, careful, "but as long as this is still a conversation about odds, I don't think it particularly likely to be a successful venture."
Mirage nods, acknowledging.
“You could be totally right. I don’t know much about gods other than what we’ve picked up on our travels. Maybe I just prefer odds I know nothing about to odds I have a pretty decent idea about.”
The irony makes him chuckle
She says this with the expression of, yeah, I know it makes no sense
"Forget odds anyway, right?" He's looking back up at you, if you're still standing. Smiling a little.
“Look, you could have hooked up with a librarian or logician or something but you picked me instead, so you gotta deal with my brain as it is, okay?”
He smiles at you. "I love your illogical brain."
Mirage clocks an expression passing across his face, says, “Oh - oooo did you hook up with a librarian?” She looks intrigued, he looks startled.
“Never mind, I don’t need to know.”
She saw relief on his face for a sec. "Oh good, my air of enigmatic mystery remains secure."
“Okay. So I have a proposition for you. Not that kind.”
"Listening."
“Press pause on the cards. Until you get your wish worded perfectly, and until we hit up a temple of Lathander. Just to say we tried. And if you want to- if things get real bad, and you want to try for the deck anyway, I’ll be here. Or if we visit this temple and it’s a waste…”
He puts a hand over yours to sort of gently interrupt, "Okay."
“Wait really? Are you sure?”
"No. But you're right in that if I draw a Wish and don't have one ready it's wasted. So I need to work on that and the related unknowns first anyway. I don't love the idea of petitioning a temple, but it's not going to kill me, and, I don't know, it's not like clergy are a monoculture. Ned was cool."
“Oh. I was. Prepared to argue some more. Or counteroffer.” She smiles
"Oh well in that case I can draft some reservations" cheeky smile
“Or we could spend the evening in other ways. What are your thoughts on cuddling?”
It takes him a second - how is she so perfectly and exactly what I need at all times reeling before he says "Favourable."
So she flings herself back on the bed in a very silly way, starfishes, and says “Cuddle meeeeeeeeee I’m cold.”
He laughs, the tension gone, slides his arms around her, presses a long kiss to the side of her head. "I love you so much. I swear someday I'll hold you without making you cry first."
In response, she whispers “Eu amo-te.”
Saeldor closes the eyes, lays him down carefully. Cri and Mika are with you in the doorway
Trying to gauge time, Saeldor notices the body's stiff, starting to smell.
“Is this…is this the source of the hex?” Mirage croaks
"Seems that way." Saeldor's grim as they straighten, as much as they can under the sloped attic ceiling, bending over the flat stone and its crackling spell circle.
"Don't touch it" - Mika
"Wasn't gonna. Mirage, can we get a breeze?" Saeldor's looking at the cards that are flashing, charged in some way within the circle. They seem only half-here; translucent and flickering.
“…yeah.”
Mika has definitely clocked your distress and bumps your hand in an offer to hold it if it won't interfere with your spell.
I snatch it. The light breeze she sends interacts with the spell circle here in a way that makes the cards not just bound in place by the regular forces of gravity. There were three cards in the circle. You push them free with a gust of wind; it feels like they're sticking for a second, like static cling, but then they come free, and as they do, three things happen:
One, Amir's face and presence, his overwhelming animosity, flash through your mind.
Two, in a swift sequence, you feel what I can only describe as a competence boost. It's like when you flew through the storm with your mother; feeling the storm within that Amir's cage made you forget, realizing your own power, but for everything. You're for a moment, hyperconscious of your dextrous lock picking fingers, your lean, dodging knife-fighting muscles, your ability to float without a sound, to command the elements, to charm a crowd - it feels elevated, enhanced.
Lastly, reality feels, for a disorienting moment, flexible. You stand in a doorway conscious that you could have left it shut, experiencing simultaneous realities where you stepped through and were greeted by a living, disgruntled wizard defensive over his experiments, versions where Ta'lok is with you, arguing sternly about the effects those experiments are having, and innumerable other possibilities
Then the present reality reasserts itself, and you're back where you were. Everyone is staring at each other, shook
“Whoa.”
Saeldor would pick up the body. It seems that their priority might be proper burial, a ceremony.
Mika does a counter-rotation with Mirage sweeping the room, picking the cards up as he goes. There's a bookcase that's mostly empty, the lower shelves have some lab equipment; a small crucible, some jars of components, etc. There's also a writing desk with a few loose leaf notes in a thin, scratchy hand (no drawers). The room's pretty austere, that's pretty much it for features besides the circular stone
On the body, Saeldor finds a crystal ball in a forward pocket of his robes that's probably his casting focus. Not a lot else on him; small component pouch.
Saeldor looks up as you and Mika complete the sweep.
"Clear?"
Cri is kneeling with her hands pressed against the sides of the table. The spell circle is slowly fading,the shape becoming irregular as she works her magic to call the stone back to its natural state, separating it from the runic magic on its surface
“Clear.” Mika's been looking at the face of each card as he picks it up. He IS sweeping the room, but it's like, search, card, glance, pocket. There's a hesitation as he's looking at the last one. A stack of thirteen regular playing-cards would be pocket-sized, but these are sturdier, and larger, like tarot. So he just holds it in his hand, and adds the thirteenth card. And as soon as he does there's a weird energy in the room - you feel your adrenaline spike, it feels like anything could happen. Anything. And you're not sure if that's a good thing.
I have never been more terrified in my life, Mirage thinks to herself
There's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but the rest of him looks focused, watching Saeldor who as ta'lok's right hand he views as the de-facto leader for this mission.
"Right on." They're watching the warlock with concern that's creating canyon-deep wrinkles on their forehead. I'm wondering if Saeldor would ask to hold the deck until they get back to 'base' as it were Maybe they're thinking about it when Mika comments that they should do a full-room sweep on the way out, make sure shit's properly dispelled.
"Hey brother," the opening stops Mika in the doorway. He glances backward, suspicion weighting his frown.
"Why don't you let me hold onto that until we can get back to base and talk it over?"
Deflection King is just going to look them in the eye and say "That's okay, I've got it." and then go to continue moving back into the rest of the house.
“That's a powerful magic item you've got there, brother.”
"Sure is."
Mika says this, and then is like, a pace or two past the doorway and nobody's following, and he's got this like, exasperated you know that kind of small arm-flap-shrug kind of motion?
"Fucks sake, I'm not planning to draw on the fly. I'm a fuckup, not an idiot."
"Hey I'm a fuckup, not an asshole/bigot/idiot/quitter".
“You are neither.” -Cri
"I know, I know, can we finish up here?"
We nod
"Okay." a 'shall-we-then' kind of motion The group's quiet as you sweep the house. Whatever magic seems to have been affecting it is clear. It feels eerie, in the way empty, lived-in spaces always feel eerie, but there's no more voice, the mirror in the dressing room is normal, the closets have only brooms and spare linens, even the pantry that so unnerved Cri before is just a stone-floored room with a wine rack and preserves.
We stick around to help bury the body. Cri maybe does some earth moving to expedite the process Saeldor conducts a short but respectful ceremony. Cri manages the overgrown weeds and earth, and Saeldor lays the old man down a solid six feet.
Yeah, you knew his name and vocation but little else about him. But he was a person, he wasn't trying to make his house dangerous for anyone, and that's what matters to Saeldor.
The mood is sombre as you head back to the road.
Ta’lok is anxious to see us, but is hiding it. He looks at the group as we enter, sees we’re uninjured and just says, “Report.” Standing tall with his hands behind his back
At this, we’re all glancing at Mika.
"Got the place clear. Not haunted, not by spirits, anyway. Seems the master of the house was running some experiments and got in over his head."
He wouldn't have had the Deck in his hand the whole way home, he probably got some twine or something out of his bag and tied it together so he could put it in his pack or pocket without pulling a card by accident
“Experiments? What kind?”
"Buddy was interested in chaos magic; artifacts that do things spells can't." At that point he slides the bound Deck out of his pack and turns it over in his hand. The same adrenaline-feeling returns with it. "Might've bit off more than he could chew."
“And the wizard?”
"He was trying to disassemble this," Mika continues, "disentangle the magic from the medium to get a closer look. It blew up in his face, went flying all over the house. Best I can figure, anyway. Dead, unfortunately. Picked a bad place to start, or just got unlucky. Either way."
Rochelle hears the others are back and comes downstairs around this point. Mika locks eyes with her as soon as she appears. The corner of his mouth turns up in a smile, and her eyes widen. Mika's a fidgeter, he's flipping the deck over and over in one hand not like, quickly/agitatedly, but constantly.
Saeldor might fill Ta’lok in on the significance of the deck. “We saw some of the cards. FLAMES, FOOL.”
"Also KNIGHT, STAR, FATES," Mika points out, with a touch of defensiveness.
He was reading titles as he picked them up. Saeldor is probably familiar with stories of the Deck as a fey game, equal parts prank and entertainment. Getting a mortal to draw from the deck can have varying results from the mortal's POV, but it's always interesting to observe from the fey POV there's stories of people finding Decks in dungeons etc too, but that it's a fey invention is a pretty common theory, and tracks.
"Boss, listen. I don't need you or anyone else-" side glance at the Paladin, who probably made a few somewhat halfass attempts to breach the topic on the way back "-to tell me it's risky. But if even half the stories about this thing are true..."
Ta’lok waits for him to finish the sentence - they all do.
He looks around at them in frustration, like he shouldn't have to spell it out. "-then it's a way out!"
“How many cards are in the deck.” Talok asks
"Thirteen."
He hisses through his teeth. “Not great odds.”
"Looking at the dormant cards doesn't tell me what they do. But the names of the ones we did interact with seemed relevant," Mika points out. "On that basis, STAR, FATES, and more dubiously VIZIER all sound relevant."
“Guesswork at best.”
"Never said it wasn't." Mika's got a stubborn set to his face, he's frustrated
“And it’s worth it to you?” He glances at Mirage
Who was just about to slip away, standing several steps behind the group.
Mika glances back and finds her trailing, and his expression is a plea for understanding that doesn't fully clear when he looks back to face the boss.
"Ta'lok, I have been looking. For a way out of this shit. For three. Years. And all of the options I've found have led out, but not forward. Until. This. It's bad odds, but it's not zero odds. Yes, they say there's a card that calls Death. True, it's almost certainly the one that killed the wizard. What "calling Death" actually means is also guesswork. Instant lights-out doesn't sound terribly entertaining, but what do I know - they Say there's all kinds of other bad shit in there. And frankly, most of it sounds survivable at worst, certainly preferable to continuing like this" and the last statement with a violent tap on his temple. • • Ta’lok takes stock of everyone in the room, sees a bedraggled Saeldor and Cri, a crying Marwa, an angry and scared Mika, and a pensive Rochelle - who looks at Mika, and he glances at her, and then turns to where Mirage is, like she mentally tapped his shoulder. Seeing her tears, he opens his mouth, says nothing, closes it. He'll walk over to her if she'll let him • • Cri's still within social distance but he don't give a fuck rn. His back's to the others, looking to meet your eyes, earnest, pleading • • "Marwa,” • • She looks like she’s trying to keep her shit together so hard • • "I don't wanna die. I meant what I told you. But I want to live, not just survive." • • “You don’t even like cards.” She burbles. “Games with luck and chance.” • • He goes to hug her, she hugs him back. He sees how upset she is, wants to do whatever he can to give her an anchor • • "Maybe I'm feeling lucky," he murmurs, half-joking. • • She buries her face in his shoulder • • Ta’lok watches this and looks to Mika. “Not tonight. Let’s talk again tomorrow.” • • He nods, and doesn't let go of her. "Sure boss." • • "I'll sleep on it." He can't resist the belligerence lol • • That gets a huff of watery laughter in his shoulder. • • He manages a smile, lets go of her. • • When Ta'lok says this, everyone recognizes that it's a dismissal. He’ll confer with Saeldor and probably Cri with the ‘idiots’ out of the room. • • Cri will squeeze Marwa's shoulder, but if Marwa doesn't indicate that she wants her to stay will move downstairs with Saeldor, who gives Mika a long, considering look before they fall in step with Ta'lok • • Rochelle can clock that this isn't the time to solicit detail from Mika. She trails after Ta'lok's crew. She'll eavesdrop or if confronted probably play the "I have a stake in this too I deserve to know what's going on" card. • • They move into the hallway by default, probably on autopilot. Mirage is sniffling, trying to compose herself, rubs her face. • • “Sorry. Long day.” • • "You can say that again." • • He hesitates a sec, then asks, "You mad at me?" • • She shakes her head and whispers “No.” • • Relief. Minor. He was pretty sure she wasn't, but she had a right to be, all the same. He glances at the rooms-in-general, like, the doors. We can say they're equidistant between his room and the one she shares with Cri. "You wanna sit down? We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to, but..." • • She grabs his hand and walks over to his room and nods. • • her decisiveness startles him a bit, he fumbles the key a little, but gets the door open. • • “Oh. Sorry - is that okay, if I hang out? I just don’t want to go down there yet, and I can’t sleep.”
It’s nearly sundown. Long shadows, daylight's turning orangey. • • "Yeah no, it's fine, me either." She maybe wonders if he said he doesn't want to sleep again because he's unwilling to give up the insomnia jokes. He opens the door and does an 'after-you' gesture. • • She goes in, he steps after you, shuts the door soft behind him. • She walks around the space slowly, gathering her thoughts. It’s a small room, maybe 10x10. Twin Size bed against one wall. Small desk with a chair, little table with a washbasin, one window. • • He stays where he is, watching you. • • “I think if I was in your shoes, I’d have drawn from the deck already.” She breaks the silence. • • Surprise. His eyebrows raise • • “Away from home, my thoughts their own hell, I’d have jumped out of any window to escape it.” She continues. Here, he can clock the acknowledgement she’s making of ending one’s own life as a possible window. • • Definitely not what he expected to hear. He kind of winces, looks at his boots. • • “I don’t know what this is like for you, Mika. I’ll never know. You’ve done so well protecting me and everyone else.” She gives a helpless shrug. • • She remembers the early days - Mika wasn't always as cautious and smart on the battlefield as he is now. At least one time where she shoved him out of the way of a volley or something "You got a death wish or something??" • • This is her looking at him and speaking directly to it. • • “And I promise you that I meant what I said in there. If you want to draw from this thing, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll fight whatever comes out, if you die I’ll drag your body to a cleric. If you forget us, I’ll make you love us again.”
She’s looking right at him as she says this, notices he was looking down from when she acknowledged death as an exit, but saying she will let him draw if he wants to gets her an eye contact. When she says this, he crosses to wherever she's standing,
"Marwa, I-"
Words fail. He takes her hands.
"If I had a better option, I'd take it. I meant what I said; I want to live." it has the strain, the emphasis of a conscious decision. "I want to live by your side, but not - steadying breath, keeps it together.
“I know.”
Swallows, sees the comprehension in her face, sighs.
"I meant what I said. There's nothing you can't ask of me."
“I know. You remember in the mansion, when I opened those two trapped doors?”
He nods. Hard to forget. He thought he might lose you.
“Those were scary. For both of us. But they were both efficient uses of my skills. I’ve practiced for years on all sorts of different locks, under all kinds of circumstances. As dangerous as that was, my odds of success were good.” I look at him. “It feels manipulative and wrong of me to ask you not to pull from the deck, so I won’t. I don’t know what it feels like to live with that thing in my head. But this…drawing from this deck isn’t an efficient use of anyone’s skills. There’s no practice, no one to reason with. You have as much chance to die as you do to be granted a wish.”
He looks like he's got things to say, but he holds them back. Sits down. Has a face like "we doing this?" (re: talking through the odds)
"That's not technically accurate."
She gestures for him to explain.
"Pretty much every reliable account - such as they are - puts the odds of a 'good' draw versus a 'bad' one at around fifty-fifty. Makes sense for something you're not supposed to be able to play odds on. But if this is a deck of thirteen, then one is more likely than the other. Let's be pessimists and say a bad draw's more likely. 45/55, then." Just looking at you.
"Of the 'bad' options, we do know there's a card that can kill you. It appears in a lot of stories, and it's the simplest explanation for what we found up there. It seems extremely unlikely to me that there is more than one card with the same effect. Which means the odds of drawing that card are still one in thirteen. A little better than 7%. We all take worse odds than that on a regular basis. And I meant what I said when I said the other 'bad' draws I've heard of sound survivable at worst, some of them honestly sound like minor nuisances. Wizard draws and loses his magic - yes, please. Cocky noble draws and all his wealth crumbles to dust. Disintegrate all six coins in my pocket, see if I give a fuck, you know? And I feel like we're under-focusing on the 45% chance of a good draw. Even if I didn't pull a solution - and I do think there's more than one in there - good is good, it could get me closer."
“I don’t know enough about math to dispute this.” She gives a rueful smile
He shrugs, gives a similar smile back. "Not really my department either, if I'm honest. Get the boss to check my numbers tomorrow. You're still right that it comes down to chance, but it's the first chance I've found."
I nod
“I know. And like I said - I wouldn’t have hesitated. But I don’t know that the first door is always the best door.”
I look considering. “Do you know what your wish is?”
He looks tired. "Mostly. Phrasing's important, I hear."
“Would make sense. Altering reality, and all. Have you run it by anybody?”
He drops your eye contact. "Not yet. I'm... still missing some information that makes it difficult to wish it away completely, to be honest."
I give him a curious look as he's examining the floorboards, leaning elbows on knees.
"This thing goes back a long way. It's hard to pin down how it started. I um. I haven't been able to rule out heredity."
I raise my eyebrow at that.
“Has your dad ever said anything to make you think…he knows?”
He shakes his head. "Dad's as mundane as they come. Magically speaking."
“Not to take us completely off topic - since this is obviously something you’ve considered a lot. Which, of course you have. You're Mika, you think everything through - ”
He gives a rueful smile.
“ -but do you know anything about Lathander?”
He looks up, confused in a 'where-you-going-with-this' way. Not guarded but not fully open, either.
"Heard the name. Why?"
“He’s not a wish, obviously. Or a deck of cards. But I heard Saeldor mention him a while ago. God of the dawn, of the sun, of new beginnings. History of extending his grace to help mortals looking to do good not just for themselves, but for all people.”
He now sees where you're going with this and looks tired again. "If you're going to ask if I've considered petitioning a deity the answer is no, and not because none of them live on Prime, either."
“Okay. How come?”
He starts to reply and then backs it up, considering. He's remembering her indignation at Amir's chapel. 'because none of them give a fuck' is probably not an answer she'd take well.
"I don't know what your experience with gods has been," he says, careful, "but as long as this is still a conversation about odds, I don't think it particularly likely to be a successful venture."
Mirage nods, acknowledging.
“You could be totally right. I don’t know much about gods other than what we’ve picked up on our travels. Maybe I just prefer odds I know nothing about to odds I have a pretty decent idea about.”
The irony makes him chuckle
She says this with the expression of, yeah, I know it makes no sense
"Forget odds anyway, right?" He's looking back up at you, if you're still standing. Smiling a little.
“Look, you could have hooked up with a librarian or logician or something but you picked me instead, so you gotta deal with my brain as it is, okay?”
He smiles at you. "I love your illogical brain."
Mirage clocks an expression passing across his face, says, “Oh - oooo did you hook up with a librarian?” She looks intrigued, he looks startled.
“Never mind, I don’t need to know.”
She saw relief on his face for a sec. "Oh good, my air of enigmatic mystery remains secure."
“Okay. So I have a proposition for you. Not that kind.”
"Listening."
“Press pause on the cards. Until you get your wish worded perfectly, and until we hit up a temple of Lathander. Just to say we tried. And if you want to- if things get real bad, and you want to try for the deck anyway, I’ll be here. Or if we visit this temple and it’s a waste…”
He puts a hand over yours to sort of gently interrupt, "Okay."
“Wait really? Are you sure?”
"No. But you're right in that if I draw a Wish and don't have one ready it's wasted. So I need to work on that and the related unknowns first anyway. I don't love the idea of petitioning a temple, but it's not going to kill me, and, I don't know, it's not like clergy are a monoculture. Ned was cool."
“Oh. I was. Prepared to argue some more. Or counteroffer.” She smiles
"Oh well in that case I can draft some reservations" cheeky smile
“Or we could spend the evening in other ways. What are your thoughts on cuddling?”
It takes him a second - how is she so perfectly and exactly what I need at all times reeling before he says "Favourable."
So she flings herself back on the bed in a very silly way, starfishes, and says “Cuddle meeeeeeeeee I’m cold.”
He laughs, the tension gone, slides his arms around her, presses a long kiss to the side of her head. "I love you so much. I swear someday I'll hold you without making you cry first."
In response, she whispers “Eu amo-te.”
Report Date
07 Aug 2025