28 January, 2012


It is night-time for Migellito’s caravan. They are camped outside of Antwerp, and many of the travellers have gone into the city. The caravan boss steps toward the fire outside a brightly painted coach. “Tarot Woman?”

She answers nearly unseen from behind the fire, and he moves to sit next to her. She asks “you are enjoying the benefits of the new route, yes?”

He is serious and unsmiling. “Yes. It is as you foretold. ‘You will find fortune beyond the fields we know.’ But now two men, they won’t return with us to the East. Another is crushed by one of those accursed devil statues. And I don’t really believe they were statues.”

She smiles. “The last one was sold in Brussels. They are gone now.”

He quickly stands. “It’s not about the statues! This route takes us too close to the Lich Stone! And what of this glyph? There has been no sign of it!”

The gypsy lady motions for Migellito to sit again. “The Lich Stone is on the other side of the Rhine Sea, miles away when we pass by. There is no worry. For other matters, there is patience. The tarot does not lie to me. It never has. And now that I possess these mystic plaques, I am one with it stronger than ever before. Is your man ready when the time is right?”

Migellito sighs. “Yes. He awaits for word in Ravensburg.” He stands and begins to walk away. “My patience will not last forever, Tarot Woman.”

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