Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

“What are her tenants, Stargazer?” Casandra cooed turning over the card.

“Ahhhummm, fertility, independence, self-esteem,” Brianna started and then paused before adding, “Confidence, self-expression, self-exploration, self. . . interest? Sexuality, aaaaaand creativity?”

“Very good,” Casandra said tucking a lock Brianna’s hair behind her ear, “Also selfishness, co-dependence, and timidity.”

“There’s so many,” Brianna pouted, “How am I ever going to learn all 78?”

“One card at a time,” Casandra assured, “And then. . . It really becomes complicated. Every card has many meanings and you can’t interpret the proper meaning without context. You have to consider the question being asked and the card drawn immediately before and after it.”

Brianna was only 7, and she had a 7-year-old’s attention span. She slumped over the stump that served as a table for this lesson and groaned. Casandra gave a good-natured chuckle and pulled Brianna into her lap, “Come now. This is the last one for today. You know the keywords, but what can the card mean?

With a sighing huff Brian leaned back into her mother’s arms and looked up at the sky, kicking her feet over the edge of Casandra’s lap. She fixated on a cloud and let her mind wonder. Then. . . The card spoke.

“Follow your dreams,” The Maiden moved on the card, smiling up as Brianna looked down, “Discover your passions and discover yourself within them. See life with the innocence of knowing that all boundaries are artificial. You will need to release your fears of abandonment in the future and realize your independence. Be true to yourself and act with empathy so that you may have true friends about you when the time comes. You will need them. . .Also, you are hungry. . . You should have some cake.”

“Mama,” Brianna wined and looked away, “It’s talking again.”

Casandra chuckle, “Again with the talking cards. What an imagination you have. Fine then, what does it say?”

“She says I need friends,” Brianna said with a knitted brow, “But to be independent and follow my dreams, and right now. . . I dream of cake! Can I have some cake, mama?”

Tomas let out a deep, rolling chuckle as he approached and stole the youngling out of her mother’s lap. He growled and made mock attempts to bite at the now squealing Brianna. He tossed her up in the air, caught her and said, “Come now, Cassy. You’ve been at it for hours. She needs to play.”

“I need cake,” Brianna corrected, “The card said so.”

“Oh?” Tomas looked at her seriously, “Well then it must be so. As if by magic he produced a small honeycake from his belt pouch wrapped in paper, "I just traded that necklace you made for it. You do good work, Stargazer.”

The 7-year-old didn’t care. She squealed with delight and snatched the cake, running back to the Vardo with her prize. Tomas and Casandra watched her with all the proud smiles of parenthood. He shook his head, “It’s uncanny at times, Cass. Like she knows everything the moment before it happens.”

“Her sight is strong,” Casandra agreed, “And getting stronger.”

“What’s this about talking cards?” He peered over.

“Just something she’s been saying lately,” Casandra shook her head in dismissal, “A child’s fancy.”

He looked after Brianna at the vardo, greedily inhaling her cake and he chewed his cheek in thought, “I wonder. . .”

“The Wheel of Fortune card shows a Giiiiiiiiant wheel,” Brianna groaned from the grass on her back and made a circle in the air with her finger, “With three figures on the outer edges. The first! The unpronounceable true name of the unmoved God of existence; Ao. Then the scales of law. Finally, the alchemical symbols for mercury, sulphur, water and salt – the building blocks of life and the four elements–”

“And they represent?” Casandra asked, standing over the prone young girl.

“Formative power,” Bri squinted up at her mother, “You know I would have said that. You going to let me finish?”

“Mind your tongue,” Casandra chided, “That snippiness will do you now favors.”

“Reminds me of her mother,” Tomas rumbled as he chopped wood for the night’s fire.

“You aren’t helping, Tomas,” Casandra hissed, “And that wood isn’t chopping itself.”

Tomas smiled and kept at it, “Thanks for making my point, Cass. As you wish, my moonlight.”

“Uuuuunngh, so gross,” Bri rolled onto her side and mock wretched. Casandra kicked her heel and barked, “That’s enough, continue.”

“On the outer circle is a snake, representing ultimate evil. It slithers down the left side. On the right side billows the curtains of the veil. And on top of the wheel sits the Ogma, representing knowledge and strength,” Bri droned on, “In the corners of the Wheel of Fortune card are four celestials, they speak of the fixed nature of certain fates. Their wings signify stability amidst movement and change, and each holds an oak leaf, representing wisdom.”

“A highly symbolic card,” Tomas mused and begun stacking the wood he’d seen to.

“Indeed,” Casandra nodded, “Some say the most meaningful major arcana. It can mean something as subtle as a small change that can bring big impacts to your life, or a cataclysm of multiple events.”

“I don’t like it,” Bri snerked, “Basically says we’re all victims of fate.”

“We are subject to it,” Casandra nodded, “Every diviner knows that even knowing fate often just rushes us toward it. This is why I never read on my loved ones. I’d rather not know.”

“Did you ever read on yourself, mama?” Bri asked, sitting up but reclined on her hands.

“I did,” She chuckled, “And I ended up with this one.”

She thumbed to Tomas who snatched her waist and pulled her firmly back against him to bite at her full black locks as he growled, “A cautionary tale if ever there was one.”

Bri snorted, “You’re so gross. . .”

“The Suit of Swords addresses a mental level of consciousness that is centered around the mind and the intellect,” Casandra said, bouncing a 2-year-old Bri on her lap, “The quality of mind present in your thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs. They are always drawn double-edged symbolizing the balance between intellect and power and how these two elements can be used for good or evil. Because of this any card of swords must be balanced by a wand or a cup. This brings in elements of spirit and feeling to have the most positive effect.”

“She’s two, Cass,” Tomas grumbled, widdling a new decoration for the Vardo, “You know she isn’t going to be able to remember that.”

“Air!” Bri squeaked in defiance and pointed to the three of swords.


Casandra stuck her tongue out at Tomas and cooed to Bri, “Very good! The Suit of Swords is associated with the element of Air. Air is intangible and unseen, but also in constant movement. It is a masculine energy that can lead by force and power, even though it remains unseen.”

Tomas sighed but smiled and went back to focusing on his work. Bri grabbed the card and rose it to her mouth. Casandra quickly plucked the card from the toddler’s hand and continued, “Action. . . Change, force, power, oppression, ambition, courage and conflict.
Anger, guilt, harsh judgement, a lack of compassion and verbal and mental abuse. The sword can be good, as knowledge is good, courage is necessary, or the sword can be a very ill omen indeed.”

“What Does It Mean When A Tarot Reading Is Mostly Swords, Cass?” Tomas asked without looking up.


“Often that the person is seeking solutions to what are primarily mental struggles, conflict and arguments, and decisions that must be made. There could be many arguments or even violence in their life. While Swords can carry with them many negative or very strong, forceful messages, Swords serve also as a warning to be more cautious of what is occurring around you. It would depend. Odd numbered swords tend to have a more negative meaning, as they are unbalanced. If there are 2, 4, or 6 swords, every sword has a dueling partner. It is an even match. If they be odd, then the conflict heavily favors one side,” She explained, “The one exception is the single sword, which is almost major arcana in its prophetic meaning. It is the sword of the one true ruler; divine justice for all.”

As Bri watch the 3 of swords as they began to dance. She could hear the clash of metal ringing out in her ears. Then all three pointed toward her and seemed to leap from the card straight at her eyes. She screamed and tossed the deck, scattering it into the grass. Both Tomas and Casandra were taken aback by her outburst as Bri cried and shielded her eyes.

“NO!” The toddler cried out between sobs.

“Brianna,” Casandra soothed, “What’s wrong?”

“NOOOOOOoooo!” She was only two and her ability to articulate such a terrifying experience was slim.

“I think you’ve pushed her too hard,” Tomas said as he took the frightened youngster from her mother’s lap, “I’ll put her down for a nap.”

“No!” Bri sniffled, burrowing into her father’s chest with her face, “Don’t let them get me!”

Both parents paused and looked at each other. Bri opened her eyes and looked beyond both of them to the shifting shadows and red, glowing eyes that mocked her terror. She cried pitifully, “The shad-ohs do-ed it! The shad-ohs, pah-pah!”

The parents looked at each other for a tense moment. Convinced she was a child of imagination having a bit of a day-terror. They both went to the Vardo and laid with her between them until she fell asleep.

“The Fool is drawn many ways,” Casandra stated as she paced, “How is the fool drawn in our deck?”

“A man with a shining halo, hung by a foot with his hands bound,” Brianna groaned and ripped up one blade of grass into confetti-sized pieces after another.

“A little more, please,” Casandra said through her nose in and exasperated sigh, “Pay attention.”

“I want to play,” The 9 year old shot back at her, “I never get to play.”

“Brianna,” Casandra cooed speaking to the air with reverence, “You have the sight! You are a diviner and. . .”

Brianna mouthed the words as Casandra spoke, making a face and crossing her eyes. When Casandra noticed and stopped, Bri took over for her, “Yooooou have a responsibility to learn your gifts well. People will look to YOU as a guide and you do not want to lead them astray!”

Casandra looked at her daughter flatly, “Two more cards. . . Then you can go.”

“GREAT!” Bri cackled and jumped to her feet, “The fool is not as he appears. He is smiling and bathed in a holy light. Even in his humiliating state he seems to know something the onlookers do not. He is merely acting the fool perhaps for a divine purpose.”


Brianna quickly drew another card, spitting out the words as fast as she could enunciate them, “The shadows! Dark spirits hinder the path. They either lie in wait or actively work in an unseen fashion to affect your chances of success. Beware a friend that might be too close and an enemy in disguise. OKAY BYE!”

She tossed the card in the air, sending Casandra into a grasping fit trying to catch it. Brianna was gone before her mother could recover. Casandra adjusted her scarf and looked at the cards with concern. Tomas looked to his wife and asked, “You are making that face you make. The one you make when you foresee something grave.”

“It’s nothing,” Casandra scoffed, “Coincidence.”

“Do diviners believe in coincidence?” He asked skeptically.

“She just. . . She’s drawn these two cars a lot,” She said tucking them away, “It’s nothing. It has to be nothing.”

“Hmm,” Casandra said placing the tower in the east position.

“Hmm?” The young gur sat forward, “What 'hmm'?”

She was a 16 year old yet unwed with her eye on a gur in another caravan. She came in moon-eyed and crying, begging to know if there was a future for them. Cassandra shook her head, “I am afraid your attraction to him may be build upon false pretense. This card is nearly always disastrous as fundamental problems in our view of things oft leads us down grim paths. It is a card of falling, from favor, from grace, from a dream that sustained us more than any dream has right to. . . But there are many cards yet to draw.”

Bri watched over the reading. A withered old woman had entered with the young one. She looked at Bri with hollow eyes and said, “He’s a cruel man. He beat me. He kept beating me because I was old and slow. It didn’t stop. It never stopped. . . Until I stopped.”

“Please do not interrupt the reading,” Bri chided.

“It’s my fault,” She continued, “I knew he was a monster when he was young. He took ill. . . I should have let him die. Now I am the one who rests.”

“Ma’am,” Bri growled, “If you will not be quiet I-“

“Brianna?” Casandra stopped and looked to her daughter, “Who are you talking to?”

“The old woman that came in with her,” Brianna was met with blank, concerned stares from her mother and the young woman.

“He tortured things,” The old woman continued, “Small creatures. . .”

Brianna looked to the old woman in disgust, “Honestly why do you even still want this reading hearing what she is saying? He tortures small animals! He beat this poor old woman!”

“Brianna,” Casandra came over and checked Brianna for a fever, “There’s no one there, child. I-“

“LIES!” The young woman cried out and toppled the make-shift table, sending the cards flying, “He’s kind and generous! He’s. . .He’s the only one who wants me. . .”

She turned on the 10 year old Bri with venom in her eyes. Spittle leapt from her mouth as she thrust a finger at the child, “YOU want him for yourself. You aren’t of age yet! You wait your damn turn!”

The old woman cackled, looking down at the table, “She’s going to end up like me. No one will ever find her.”

Her cackling grew to a wicked laugh but as she looked up at Bri what greeted the young seer was barely recognizable as a face. It was swollen, bruised. The jaw hung dislocated at an odd angle and one eye had partially left its socket next to an unnatural dip were the side of her head caved inward. She laughed and laughed, “She’ll hide him too. Hide it because she’s afraid to be alone!”

Bri shrieked, crumbling into a ball and covering her eyes, “No! Oh gods, her face! What happened to her face, mama?!”

The young woman that had been full of rage looked on with disgust, “She is. . . Moonwitted?”

“She is a child,” Casandra snapped back at her, “She has a vivid imagination. Bri. . . Bri? Remember what we said? These imaginary friends of yours aren’t funny anymore. This needs to stop.”

She tried comfort the stricken child as the old woman closed in, “He’s got a taste for it now. . . Hurting and killing women. . . I was his first. I won’t be his last.”

“NO!” Brianna cried and leapt where she thought the old woman was. She thrashed at the old specter but Bri's hands only met the air as the woman vanished. Brianna stood there, panting, disoriented and frightened as the laughter echoed in her mind. Her eyes went distant, rolling into her head as her mouth moved unbidden.

“He’s going to kill you,” She said looking away from the other young gur, “He’s going to kill you like he did her.”

The young woman stepped forward and struck Brianna hard across the face. Brianna crumbled to the ground in a heap. Casandra was to the young woman in an instant, grasping her shawl. She snarled, “You do not seek the truth. You seek fairy tales. It is evident in your every response to the cards so far; Trepidation and distrust. You defy my guidance, and you strike my child before me? GET OUT.”

She growled back at Casandra, “You’re no seer. You are false. I should have known better than to trust an Askarii. I will see Madam Irene and get this sorted properly.”

She left in a huff and Casandra ignored her precious deck to pick up her child and cradle her. She lifted Bri’s face and look on the reddening hand print there. She tsked and asked, “What would possess you to say such things, Stargazer? Your games of pretend have gotten out of hand.”

Tomas came from the treeline and stroked Bri's hair in her mother's arms as he said gently, "Told you before, Cas. . . I don't think she's pretendin'. We will see Madame Irene. Spirits are known the the Naman. Irene will tell us if she has yet another sense of sight beyond that of time."

"There is no 'Naman'," Casandra spat, "There are no 'Askarii'. We are the Namaskarii. How will our people move on if we do not?"

He nodded, "Just so, my love. . . I am sorry. Still, we take her to see the shaman at first light."

It is not the sinister card most people expect. It can mean the death of an idea. In loss there can be much to gain. An old generation dies out and the new generation takes its place on the foundation of their elder’s wisdom. It can be a card of growth and coming of age.

It is not always sinister. . .

Not always. . .

Casandra placed the final card on the staff. Her mind’s eye opened, and she saw a blighted land, sucked dry of life and hope. There was a beautiful woman that could have been Casandra’s own sister for how well the woman resembled the fair Casandra. Casandra squinted into the desolate dry wind that blew baron soil into her eyes and tried to get a better look. Her eyes went wide in terror as she saw the woman’s blood red eyes.

“Mama,” Brianna’s voice called her back. There she sat before the reading. The Maiden, crossed by The Wheel of Fortune, surrounded in a wheel of odd-numbered swords. The staff bore not one minor arcana. The major arcanas spoke of the fixed nature of the outcome. The fool, the Shadows, the Fallen Tower, and. . . Death.

“I do not need to read cards to see the bleakness of what is before us,” Madame Irene said through clenched teeth, “We knew there would be a price, Casandra? Casandra get ahold of yourself and speak. What is the price? What do you see in Brianna’s fate?”

Casandra sobbed into her hands, she could not speak for the horror she had foreseen. Tomas was with her in a instant and Irene sneered openly. It was Brianna who spoke.

“She will cross the shadows and fall,” The 10 year old said distantly, her eyes rolled back into her head, ”Nothing will be as it seems, all that she was will be erased. She will become a blight upon this wretched world!”

The haunting cackle that came from the child was not in her own voice. Irene stood and placed a hand upon Brianna’s forehead, “Begone, wretch, release this child!”

Brianna cried out in pain and collapsed in a heap. Madame Irene’s eyes narrowed in disgust as she growled out the words, “You should have come to me sooner. The Askarii wench knew no better, but you Tomas? You had to have recognized the symptoms having watched me in my early years.”

She stepped over the crumbled child callously and said over her shoulder, “I doubt this will remain a secret. You should probably keep a tighter reign on her. I will see her to begin training at dawn of each new day when we are camped and not moving.”

“Irene!” Tomas barked, “Did you not hear her? How can you be so cold right now?”

“There is a price for all things,” Irene said facing away from him, “And I am cold because someone must keep their head if this child is to have any hope at all.”

Casandra laid on the floor with Brianna, curling around her. Tomas watched helplessly as she hiccupped sobs into the child’s hair. He breathed out, “It’s not true.”

“It is,” Casandra spat bitterly, “I saw a woman standing in the heart of a great blighted landscape.”

“It doesn’t have to be her!” Tomas said.

“Mommy,” Brianna asked sleepily and opened her blood red eyes, “Daddy? Why are you so upset?”

“She had blood red eyes,” Casandra answered him, cupping her child’s face, “Oh my beautiful Stargazer. . . What have we done?”

Irene’s hand came down with a sharp smack on Brianna’s head, “No! This line is wrong, do it again!”

Brianna sniffled. She had been crying for a quarter of a candlemark but Irene would not let her stop. Her hands shook as she drew the rune again. Of course, it was wrong.

SMACK!

“Stop!” Brianna wailed and rounded on the woman, “How am I supposed to write with you smacking and yelling at me!”

Irene’s eyes narrowed. She cupped Brianna’s chin in her hand an looked down into her blood red eyes. The look that the elder shaman gave her bore into her very soul. She tilted Brianna’s face left and right, inspecting her. She shoved her face back and sighed, “Ever your mother’s coddled daughter. A shaman’s will must be like iron, girl, lest the spirits we encounter overwhelm us. I am not even hitting you that hard and we’ve been at it less than an hour.”

“Gods you look like her,” Irene said bitterly as she turned away, “More every day. It must tear Tomas apart. Come.”

Brianna sulked, but she followed. Irene adjusted the thick woolen shawl she kept on her shoulders and walked with a methodical rhythm and obvious purpose. Brianna struggled to keep up. Growling about her fate internally Brianna asked, “Where are we going in such a damned hurry anyway?”

SMACK!

This time it was across the face and sent Brianna to the ground in a heap. Irene’s mouth twisted as she gave Brianna a hard, unforgiving look, “I know your father does not speak like that. Mind your tongue. There is a spirit nearby. You are going to face it.”

“I’m what?” Brianna scrambled to her feet, chasing after Irene’s billowing, multi-yard skirt.

“You are going to face it,” Irene said venturing off the game trail and into the heart of the forest.

“I can’t even cast cantrips yet!” Brianna protested.

“A shaman subdues spirits with the force of their will before magic,” Irene answered back, climbing over a stand of rocks in a skirt like it was no trouble at all, “Bargain with it.”

“What in the hells do I offer it?” Brianna asked and flinched as Irene turned to smack her again. The elder shaman stayed her hand and snorted.

“You have to find out what it wants,” Irene said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, what it wants,” Brianna said flatly, “How do I do that?"

Irene sighed heavily, “You’ve your mother’s brain too I see. You ask. . . Obviously.”

“Oh obviously,” Brianna groaned, “What a lovely day Mr. Spirit. How are you? Would you please tell me what you want and grant me power? I’m a really great listener.”

“Don’t lie to it,” Irene shot back with a smirk, “You’re a terrible listener.”

They walked for near two candle marks before coming to a dead, decaying area of the forest. Irene’s mood shifted. She looked around, scanning the area, and rose her hand, motioning for Brianna to stop. She shook her head, “Mmnn, now that I am closer, I think you will simply watch me deal with it. It’s a good deal more powerful and malevolent than it felt before. I wonder if it masks its aura somehow.”

“Give me the child,” A whispered rasping voice demanded.

“Why do you want her,” Irene shot back, “She’s stupid and she has a fowl mouth.”

“HEY!” Brianna yelled and clenched her fist.

“She will make him happy,” The voice echoed all around them, “Soooo happy. He’ll let me be close to him then, and I may feast on all the children then.”

“He who?” Irene kept the spirit talking as she trying to home in on it, “Sounds like a fun guy. Maybe I give him the girl directly.”

Brianna shrunk back, Irene glared over her shoulder and barked, “Hold your ground, shaman. There is no where to run that it can’t follow you now.”

“Him,” The voice cackled, “Heeeee’s coooomiiiing. They think that they put him down, but no mortal chains him. You knew this would happen, shaman. . . You knew there was a price when-“

“That’s quite enough,” She said raising a hand as brilliant light radiated off her in all directions, “You talk too much.”

There was a shrill sound of pain from deep in the decay as a lumbering hulk of flesh rose from the rot. Mis-matched eyes, limbs, and internal organs worn outwardly shaped the monstrosity. It hissed at Irene and screeched, “WITCH! I’ll wear your head for a new crown!”

It went by so quickly, and at the end the collection of rotten flesh fell in a putrid, fetid heap. Irene took a breath, replaced her shawl and primped her hair as she said, “foul thing. It will take days to remove the stench.”

Brianna just watched, dumbfounded at all she had just witnessed. Irene moved toward her and sneered down her nose at the child, “You know your fate, child. Your will must be like iron and here you are. . . Quivering. You didn’t even do anything. You didn’t even try.”

Brianna looked down to her feet. Irene snorted and swished past her in those voluminous skirts, “At least you didn’t run. Come. We’ve more work to do.”