The sign out front had a picture of a man getting a chair broken over his head and it read, The Shattered Skull. Zeddar sat quietly, sipping his ale, watching the room from a corner table. He could see how the tavern had earned its name...and its reputation. In the half hour he'd been nursing his drink, he'd seen four fights break out and get broken up. One man had to be carried away by his commrades afterward. He would probably live.... probably. It wasn't the kind of tavern you'd expect to find a Nobleman in, but one might be surprised. Often young minor nobles would get it into their heads to seek out some risk and adventure on a gambling run. More often than not, they were the ones who ended up on the receiving end of the brawls. Every now and then, though, one would wise up early on and decide to quit while ahead. And when that happened, Zeddar was waiting with a quick spell and an escort to the city of their choice. It wasn't extravagant money, but it was steady. And in a tavern like this, a couple of well place fireballs could serve as an adquate warning agaisnt would be attackers. The superstition about magic's power was always more powerful than the magic itself. But tonight had been an especially slow night. Only four brawls, and no requests for an escort out of the tavern yet. There were only a handful of people in the tavern to begin with, and the mood was more than a little subdued. To be truthful, it suited Zeddar just fine. He was in no mood for excitement just at the moment. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was sense in him that something was building. There was an unexplainable, yet tangible tension in the air, yet it didn't seem to be the result of anything happening in the tavern itself. It was almost like the feeling of watching deep, dark storm clouds approach from the sea. When you see them, you know the storm is building, and that it is going to be violent when it breaks...but for the moment, an eery, tense calm prevails. As Zeddar surveyed the room, a woman with fiery hair and striking green eyes caught his eye. She was sitting a couple of tables down and facing Zeddar. Somehow, he'd missed her come in the one door the Tavern had. She was seated, a glass of red wine by her right hand, a deck of Tarot cards in her left. She had a fan of placed cards in front of her as well. A multitude of tiny silver bells on bracelets around her wrists tinkled as she placed each card with care. She glanced up, saw Zeddar and smiled. He quickly downed the last of his ale with a strong gulp, and when he lowered the glass he almost fell over backward. The woman was sitting right across the table from him!! What was worse, all of the cards were laid out in perfect position. There was no possible way she had moved from so far so fast. Zeddar opened his mouth, but the woman quickly placed another card on top of the growing fan. It bore an armored mounted knight on a white field. Zeddar's eyes were drawn to it, and he found he'd forgotten what he was going to say. The woman looked up, her bright green eyes dancing with her laughter. "The Knight!" She exclaimed in slightly lilting voice, "A powerful card. Chivalrous, Honorable...The Knight is devoted to Duty above all else." She began to place another card, but Zeddar leaned forward and slapped his hand down on the Knight. The woman jumped a bit, startled. "No fair when you stack the deck," Zeddar growled, "What? No hag this time? No demon ghost witch? I see through your disguise, and I know you. I name you Fate, and I demand you face me with your true self." The woman made a sour face that some how still managed to be beautiful, and then the tavern suddenly became very still. All of the noise from conversations, arguments, even the notes from the lute player in the far corner suddenly stilled. It wasn't that the people had all stopped talking....rather, they had simply stopped. Then, the woman shimmered, and another woman was sitting in her place, still holding the cards. This new woman had tanned olive skin, shimmering black hair, and a face so beautiful it was almost painful to look at. "So, this is your true self?" Zeddar asked, somewhat incredulous. "One of them," Fate said, batting her eyelashes, "You've seen the other two. They are all three me, and I am all three of them. It just depends on who is doing the asking. For you, I am this." Fate stood and spun in a slow, seductive circle. She had the hint of a smile on her lips as she sank back onto the bench and regarded Zeddar with her bright green eyes. Of everything, only the eyes had stayed the same. Zeddar suddenly felt very conscious of the fact that despite the number of people in the tavern, they were completely and utterly alone in this moment. He swallowed hard and was relieved to find that his ale was full again. He decided not to concern himself with how. "I have been looking for you," Fate said, "For some time now. You can be incredibly difficult to find when you choose to be." Zeddar grimmaced, "Apparently not difficult enough. He's out there again, moving. I can feel him. The Dark Lord has returned." Fate nodded, her face betraying nothing, "I know," She said in her sultry voice, "I have felt it for some time. His power is growing by the day." Zeddar's eyes narrowed, "And still you sit idly by and do nothing. Why?" "I haven't the power--" Fate began, but Zeddar cut her off with a sharp gesture at the rest of the frozen tavern. "Oh really?" He asked, sarcasm thick in his voice, "You can suspend time within this building.... or did you do it in general.... but you expect me to believe you're powerless? I know you better than that, Fate, remember? We've danced this dance before... and not just once...I remember. That was your 'gift' to me, right? My memories?" Fate's face took on an ominous cast, and it was Zeddar's turn to jump. "Careful of your tone, wizard," She warned him, "THe Dark Lord may be outside my power to reach, but I assure you...you are not. You are a child of both worlds... the spirit world, and the waking world. And that is why he fears you. And it is why you should fear us both." Zeddar looked confused and opened his mouth, but suddenly the cards were gone from under his hand. He looked up and Fate was holding a leather cup in her hand, which she shook with a suggestive smile. "If you don't want to play cads..." Fate said, trailing off seductively. "What? Dice with you?" Zeddar asked, incredulous. "Offer accepted," Fate said with a grin. "Wait a minute," Zeddar sputtered, "I didn't make any offer. I asked a question." "Well," Fate said, her face taking on a sultry pout, "I took it as an offer, and I already accepted it in good faith. Now... are you going to take that offer back? Or are you a man of your word?" Zeddar gritted his teeth. He had the feeling he was being backed up into a trap, but he didn't see any way out of it. Finally he sighed, and said, "Fine, I'll dice with you, but nothing's wagered, understand?" Fate just grinned, winked, and tossed her dice. The five cubes rolled to a stop with six pips showing on each. Fate just kept on grinning. "A winning roll in every game," Zeddar grunted, "Big surprise." He scooped up the five dice, threw them in the leather cup, shook it three times, and emptied it. The dice all hit the table, stood up on a corner, and started spinning like tops. Zeddar blinked twice to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, but the dice just kept spinning. After a moment, he looked up at Fate. Her face had gone pale, and her eyes were wide with shock. It was a look that Zeddar found terrifying on her... a look of fear and confusion. "What does that mean?" Zeddar asked. Fate blinked at him, her face still pale, and whispered.... "I don't know."
On a Shelf ~The Summoning~ Zeddar was in shock. He'd known Fate personally for a long time... several lifetimes, in fact, and he'd never once heard her admit to not knowing something. He felt a cold, hard knot of fear in his stomach. He looked down to see the spinning dice again, but they were gone. The empty cup was there, but the dice were gone. Zeddar grabbed the cup, and turned it up over the table, but there was nothing in, or under it. Confused, Zeddar looked up, bur Fate had vanished also. Odd that when she'd left, the room hadn't returned to normal. Zeddar looked over at the bartender frozen in the act of pouring an ale. The deep amber liquid hung frozen in a zig-zagging line connecting the bottle and the mug. It was a peculiar sight. Zeddar started to feel worried. he picked up the dice cup, and stood from his table. Suddenly, it seemed as if the entire room, and everything in twisted in onitself. It was almost as if reality itself were bending. And then, in a blinding flash, everything snapped apart, and a cold wind blasted Zeddar in the face. Zeddar squinted against suddenly blinding, stinging snow, pulling his cloak tight about him. He whistled loudly, and his faithful horse Smoke came trotting up, tossing his head, still chewing on hay from the Skara Brae stables. Zeddar patted the horse's nose and tried to sooth the animal. It was remarkably tolerant of shocks like this, so Zeddar pulled out a sugar cube to reward him. The horse munched thankfully, and tossed his head once. Zeddar looked about and saw towering snow and ice-capped mountains to his right, and a roiling storm-frothed sea to his left. He was back on Dagger Isle, and without a rune to return home. He still had the empty dice cup in hs hand, though. Zeddar cursed. Fate, it seemed, had put him on a shelf for the time being. The next time he saw her, she was going to get a real ear full....
