Ignotus' Fortune

[Anselm]

Ignotus' Fortune The 8th of Summer 512 AV Marketplace in Zeltiva OOC : Continued from Anselm the Fortune Teller. Anselm had observed the cloaked figure standing outside his tent. There was something odd about the man but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Then it hit him. He was wearing a cloak and cowl surprisingly similar to what Anselm was wearing. Further more, the cowl served the same purpose as Anselm's, namely to obscure the face in shadow. The man stepped into the tent and stared silently at Anselm for several moments. Anselm stared back. In that time, Anselm made two important observations. First, he could now see enough of the man's neck to observe that the jugular veins were still, where there should have been evidence of blood pulsing through them. Second, he shifted his visual focus a bit to bring the man's aura into view and observed that whatever else he was, he was not alive. He gestured for the man to sit in the chair opposite him. When Anselm spoke, it was in a deep, slow voice that sounded more or less like he was trying to gargle gravel and talk at the same time. “You are Nuit, are you not?”

[Ignotus Everto]

Ignotus smiled genially and nodded as he eased himself into the chair. "What gave it away?" he asked with his teeth together out of habit, pulling his hood back and letting it fall around his neck. His voice was quite different from Anselm's. Smooth and pleasing to the ear it was, and Ignotus seemed to grow more familiar as he spoke, sort of like an old friend you had all but forgotten. "Was it the bags, or our choice of tailor?" He chuckled softly for a moment at that and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between them. For a moment his mottled black tongue was visible.

The gaze between them was a test. Dipping your toe into the water before jumping in. Nothing major, simply a vague sense of rapport. There was no real need for it, of course, but it was always good to stay in practice... Though to be honest with himself, he also didn't know how to treat with a fortune teller. He tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at the older Nuit with curiosity as he said. "So, what brings such a venerable, and if I may say so, fashionable fellow to Zeltiva?"

[Anselm]

“I live here,” Anselm replied slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. “Zeltiva is a very cosmopolitan place, one of the few cities in Mizahar where a Nuit can live a relatively quiet and peaceful life. I am sure you will find it to be so for yourself as well. And of course it is home to a great university and the greatest library in Mizahar.” It felt good to talk with one of his own. To not have to cautiously navigate the minefields of ignorant people's fears and prejudices. To be in the presence of someone who truly understood what it was to be Nuit. To be able to let his guard down for a moment and just be himself. He imagined they could spend days swapping stories about places they had been and things they had seen. He stared past his visitor toward the marketplace as he thought about other Nuits he had met in his travels. Once one left Sahova, they were few and far between. “I do not meet many of my own kind,” he said. And not all of his encounters had been friendly. He thought about the dark Nuit he had recently met in the middle of the night. That had definitely not been a friendly visit. And he was definitely not a friendly Nuit. He brought his mind back to the conversation at hand with the feeling he was missing something important. “As you no doubt discovered from the sign outside my modest establishment, my name is Anselm.” He continued. “A humble fortune teller by trade.” He paused. “If I may ask, what is your name? And what brings you to Zeltiva?”

[Ignotus Everto]

He nodded thoughtfully to himself as Anselm spoke. Now that he mentioned it, people didn't cross to the other side of the street at the sight of him in Zeltiva, nor did he get much more than curious stares. It was nice to know that the city he chose to study in also wouldn't demonize him. It was nicer to know that he hadn't slipped. He was almost disappointed, really. He "I am Ignotus, student, seeker of knowledge, over-curious bum, whatever you prefer, really." he said wryly, waving his hand dismissively.

"I've come here for the university, and I think I'll stay here for the people." He smiled wistfully. "At least until I've learned enough to be worth my salt in Sahova." It was a difficult choice between the two, but in the end, the thought of being surrounded by other Nuit that were, more likely than not, capable of outstripping him in just about every field filled him with a mixture of distaste and dread. As such, Zeltiva was quite a pleasant stop-gap. "I must say though, now that I'm here, I think I may be loathe to leave, especially now that I know I'm not alone in the city."

[Anselm]

“Ah, a fellow seeker of knowledge,” responded Anselm almost enthusiastically. “You have indeed come to the right place. Zeltiva is a city of great learning.” He paused. Something was definitely not right. This Nuit was altogether too friendly. In truth, Anselm had never met a friendly Nuit. Then he realized what it was. And he was not pleased. A week or so earlier Anselm had spent some time meditating on one of the oracles his master had taught him. Water above, a pitfall. Lake below, joyous. Being capable of joy in danger, Warding off danger by joyfulness, It is therefore called discipline. He was especially focused on the phrase 'warding off danger'. To ward off, he thought to himself. Means 'to parry or turn aside'. It is best to avoid danger whenever possible. But if it is not possible, then a way must be found to parry the threat or turn it aside. The oracle does not say one should defeat danger, or that one should overcome danger, or even that one should meet danger head on. Instead, it says that one should turn it aside or parry it. The best way to defeat one's opponent is to refuse him the opportunity to harm you. Eventually he will conclude that he cannot win and will walk away, leaving you once again in peace. The question was, How to turn this man aside. “But, my dear fellow,” he said. “You came to have your fortune told. And you shall have it! But first, perhaps you have a question to ask? It is not strictly necessary, but it can be helpful since an answer without a question can be a dangerous thing.” OOC : The 'oracle' comes from the I Ching or Book of Changes, an ancient Taoist text. See bibliography.

[Ignotus Everto]

Ignotus shrugged, his brow furrowing slightly for a moment. He had indeed meant to get to that eventually, but he still felt a little disappointed that his sport had to end so quickly. Of course, he could indeed use a bit of foresight, and it would do little good to tarry. To tarry might be to risk discovery, and he could not afford to have his name trumpeted throughout the city, especially not now. "Aye... People tend to make up the question that makes the answer sound the most pleasant." he thought for a moment, idly drumming his spider-like fingers on the table for a couple seconds.

"There's a certain business venture I'm undertaking, that will likely end with me leaving Zeltiva for a time... The business may turn nasty." For a moment, he was visibly troubled. But the moment passed, and he looked back at Anselm with the same easy smile. Precision is what he'd want. If this wasn't some clever con-man, a vague answer would be the last thing he wanted. "So what I want to know is, will I return to Zeltiva, and if I do, will it be with damage to my current body?"

[Anselm]

“I do not know,” Anselm said slowly in a raspy voice. “I am a fortune teller, not a future teller. If you want to know what the future holds, you should consult the gods, if indeed they be such. Not that it will likely do you any good.” His visitor's physical appearance told him little of course. But his colloquial use of Common and his carefree attitude suggested he was relatively young. Certainly he had not yet become bitter and jaded. Anselm wondered briefly what sort of business he was embarking on, but quickly decided he didn't care. “But the oracles often surprise even me,” he continued. “So let us see what we shall see, shall we?” He reached under his cloak with his left hand and produced a small tan-colored bag tied with a leather cord. He slowly untied it and poured the contents into his right hand, which he held out so Ignotus could see what he had. What he had were eighteen tiny carved bones etched with intricate designs. He turned his hand over and the bones fell on to the table with a clatter. Ignotus probably did not notice, but as he released the bones, Anselm gave his hand a little twist that caused the bones to fall into a roughly rectangular pattern. This pattern he studied for several moments, his mind drifting across the decades to another place and another time. “All the oracles are full of ancient wisdom,” said Master Ahn. They were sitting on a small knoll overlooking a deep forested valley carved out centuries ago by the river that tumbled down from the surrounding mountains. “But thunder is an especially interesting one.” “How so?” asked Anselm. Master Ahn pointed to the roughly three by six pattern of bones scattered in the dirt between them. “In all six lines there is a kind of fear – it may be inner fear or outer fear, it may cause misfortune or it may cause blamelessness; but none of them are the path of introspection by which good fortune is gained. Looking for fear for the inward without fear of the outward, being able to be careful about the beginning and complete the end, we find it only in the first line. So in practicing introspection it is important to fear for the inward and not fear for the outward. Fear for the inward means being careful about one's inner state; not fearing the outward means manifesting it in action.If one is first wary, and then cultivates practice, one cannot be disturbed by eternal things. Thereby one can realize essence and make life complete, unaffected by ups and down.” Anselm looked across the table at Ignotus and intoned the oracle: Thunder above, movement. Thunder below, action. Here two thunders combine. From this action you arrive at that action, from that action you produce this action - A thousand actions, myriad acts, are all this one action. Therefore it is called thunder. Anselm carefully gathered up the bones as he formulated the question that would bring either epiphany or confusion. “One way to think about this oracle is in terms of inner activity and outer activity. You are about to embark on an outer activity which will set in motion myriad acts, most of which you can neither foresee nor control. The eventual outcome depends entirely on the inner activity that shapes the outer activity. “What is it you hope to gain from this business venture?” OOC : The 'oracle' and associated teachings are taken from the the 51st hexagram of the I Ching or Book of Changes, an ancient Taoist text. See bibliography. I use a random number generator to select which hexagram to use for each 'fortune'.

[Ignotus Everto]

Ignotus's brow furrowed as he listened to Anselm. So he wasn't an actual seer. Advice was helpful, but true foresight was so much better. At any rate, advice was what he got, and he might as well use it. He shrugged. "A good bit of entertainment, at the very least. Perhaps some money to pay for my classes. Perhaps some things I haven't foreseen yet... Hopefully nothing unpleasant, eh?" he added with a grin."At best... A couple new friends, and a good deal of world experience... It's good to dabble, especially for those of our kind. Helps stave off boredom."

He leaned back in his chair, trying to make sense of his fortune. Inner activity? Did that mean motives, or magic, or something else entirely? It would shape the outcome, so it was likely one of the first two. Magic didn't seem particularly internal, now that he thought about it, so he must mean motives. Since he threw his lot in with Levi to amuse himself, and his tastes were of a... Different sort, this meant that things would get much more dangerous in the future. Ignotus wasn't sure whether or not he liked that thought. He glanced over at the entrance to the tent. At any rate, it was time to go soon. There was only the matter of the fee... It wasn't a particularly onerous fee, but it was still a fee, and he had the sense that he'd need just about every little resource he could hold on to for the journey ahead. Not to mention, he wanted to see if he was actually capable of talking himself out of paying. Either way, there wasn't much he could do but wait and think.

[Anselm]

The old Nuit parsed out of the young Nuit's response a catalog of things he hoped to get out of his business venture. It was a disappointingly mundane list. Entertainment Money Nothing unpleasant A couple new friends World experience Dabbling in this and that Staving off boredom But Anselm suspected this was merely a cover behind which Ignotius was keeping his true intentions hidden. Certainly it did not correlate very well with a business venture that “may turn nasty” and carried with it the possibility of “damage to my current body.” Not that Anselm cared about what nefarious activities Ignotius might be up to or what unfortunate things might happen to him as a result. But he did care about the attitude of the citizens of Zeltiva toward Nuits in general, since that would impact his ability to live a quiet and peaceful life here. He hoped Ignotius was not going to do anything to upset that status quo. “Do not be too quick to dismiss the words of the oracle,” he said. “These are ancient words, some possibly pre-dating the Valterrian. They have been been carefully crafted by the sages over the centuries to act as mirrors of the soul of the seeker. If you gaze deeply into them, you may discover things about yourself that you did not know before.” He returned the bag of bones to a pocket sewn to the inside of his cloak. “That will be five silvers, please.”

[Ignotus Everto]

"Older than the Valterrian..." Those were words that got him thinking. If anyone other than a Nuit had said that, it would have triggered a small storm of questions, but when one could reasonably be older than some Gods, questions of where this or that bit of ancient knowledge was found tended to be self-explanatory. He'd originally planned to try to talk his way out of paying, but now he just wanted to be gone, if only to think more on what he'd paid for.

The Nuit dug through his pockets and set the requested amount on the table, then rose from his chair and nodded politely to the seer. "Five silvers gone to a good cause. It's been a pleasure, Anselm." Following any parting words from Anselm, he would slowly step out of the tent.