Oracle of Answers [Tarot]

[Colt Kinslammer]

Midday. Blizzard. The Second of Pontius in the Season of Winter, Era XIV Post Fractum

The frozen winds of change did remain ever steadfast Era to Era. A smattering of offcolored fur lined the shoulders of a slowly trudging figure as he weathered a ceaseless blizzard. Mount Tuli under normal circumstances may have been a beautiful place, rich in sight and sound, but not this day. Steady boots forced upward along steps of rigid stone, their owner a grim faced dwarf of above average height and character. Blown to the storm his face betrayed little satisfaction, a dusky beard and helmeted locks straying loose and wild beneath the God's play. Colt Kinslammer had come..

He journeyed to this fair land at the request of his mother. Damn her eyes, yes.. his mother. She was now one of the final bastions of authority that the Clan had to offer, after being all but annihilated beneath the graveyard that had become their home. Zerdargia.

Handling the lined cloak closer, this sturdy mantle of strident, focused limbs rose relentlessly against the noise. The snow now lay thick, a blanket of disuse that rarely a soul dare tarry in these heights of maddening winter.
Slung over his torso, the warrior carried a yoke of provisions and clay jars of food, wine, cheese, olives and meat. They said he was a fool to attempt the climb, but quickly used his stubborn frame as a well paid pack mule. At the very least the divine interpreter should be grateful enough to listen with a full mouth.

Ahead Colt could make out the silouette of something dark and central. It was a building, man made surely.. What people relied on spooks and spirits the Dwarf could only guess, but on this brightening he just happened to be one of them.

[Tarot]

It was a very, very cold day by Chelseannan standards, quite possibly one of the most frigid in living memory. Colt had picked just the perfect brightening to find the Oracle. Thankfully the road to Mount Tuli was not as steep as he might have imagined. Most people usually rode mules when they wanted to reach Castle Chelseanna at the very top of the mount, but the Oracle's temple lay less than halfway to the summit. In fact, what made the Oracle elusive was not something as arbitrary as physical accessibility. It was, quite simply, that the Oracle knew you were coming.

A thin carpet of snow welcomed the Dwarf's feet as he climbed his way up. No other sound could be heard but the raging blizzard, his ragged breath and the repetitive march of his hardened boots. Around the Oracle's shrine, all life seemed to come to a standstill, as if holding its breath in fear of disturbing its dweller. Not that the shrine was much to look at - not at all. One would be hard-pressed to even call it a temple, or even a house. It stood in the middle of a clearing, little more than four walls that had long since crumbled at various points along their perimeter. Naked rock, never polished by skilled craftsmen and now clothed in a thin veil of falling snow, stood the test of time as if by a random chance. Colt had spent some time in Port Chelseanna before coming here... but this place had clearly been built by a different hand. Different and much more ancient. It seemed as old as the land itself.

There was a ruined doorway, but no door. Such luxuries did not belong here. The wind howled through the opening, inviting the Dwarf to enter. Outside there was nothing but a storm charged with promises of things to come...

Then Colt just felt it under his feet. His kind had always been more intimate with the depths of the underground than any other race on Telath, and when the bowels of the world were disturbed, if there was anyone could perceive the anomaly, a Dwarf would certainly point it out first. The rock felt strange, restless. Of course, Mount Tuli had been a volcano at some point, but the Kalendryans insisted that it was no longer active. No, a different kind of vibrations altogether - repetitive, heavy and ominous like the thrumming of tribal war drums.

A perfect line of little bones started a few meters before the doorway and continued well into the barely lit shrine. They had been arranged with maniacal precision, a grim invitation into the abode. Some of those bones looked compatible with those of a humanoid.

[Colt Kinslammer]

Lowering the yoke of casks, Kinslammer noticed a thrum and vibration carry up through his steadied feet. It was rhythmic and daunting, creating unease with an unnatural tone."I don' like this..."
The words were whispered to himself in shorthand trepidation as an extremely long metal bar was lowered from between his shoulders, capped with a hammer of bound steel, it's symmetrical rectangular shape heavy and smooth. The double handed weapon could be held halfway up the shaft, close to the head or near the butt to interchange grip reversal for larger twirling spins. This versatility was the primary function behind elongation of the stave, as it could also be vaulted as a projectile with damning consequences.

Plying the cold alloy between leather skin, Kinslammer taunted the spiteful breeze slowly.. in his own way; edging paced, armed and even into the ancient, hallowed grounds. He stepped through a collection of snow banks, marks of wide boot heels sanded away by the storm. Hewn stone.. a comfort on any sundried brightening played sentry around these fragments of tiny bone. The daunting warrior inspected them with a sparked frown, observing the room's coat as well as the clues below. Were they fresh, by how much.. and what manner of creature did they belong? Cutting through the entrance, sharp wind continued to slip along his silouette and under the taunt sling of a wide torso.
Perhaps these were simply the tools of clairvoyant insanity beckoning him to partake in the madness.. or was it ritual of a more sinister arrangement? His chestnut hair skipped to and fro, the fur on the Dwarf's back ebbing with the icy temperament amid such discovery. The noise channelled, echoed and ricocheted beyond and above him.. permeating a finality of closure to this long awaited beginning.
Colt tightened his grip.

[Tarot]

Hammer at the ready, Colt made a ginger entrance into what was commonly referred to as the Oracle's shrine. Really, not much to look at, especially under a Dwarf's scrutinizing eyes. His kind had mastered forms of architecture that most surface dwellers could not even imagine, but this place seemed to have been built as an afterthought. Or did it? It certainly had stood the test of time rather well, if one considered that it was made of little more than piled stones.

The bones were an uneven lot, some fresh, some old, most of them animal, a few human and quite possibly other races, though of course Kinslammer was no real anthropologist. They formed a macabre path into the shrine, like an arrow pointing in. Thankfully the Dwarf's eyes had little problem adjusting to the half-darkness, the only light filtering through small gaps and cracks in the wall. The air felt marginally warmer inside, and at least the seeker had rid himself of the accursed snow. The path of bones continued well towards the middle of the rectangular room that seemed to form the entirety of the shrine. Furnishing was non-existent, unless one counted some hay lying on the floor in a parody of a mattress as a piece of furniture.

In the very center of the room, at the end of the grim trail, was the kneeling figure of a child, a girl probably no older than ten. She was arranging the bones in a perfect line with manic single-mindedness. She did not even turn to face the new arrival for the time being. "You are late, and you don't look yummy," she said, with a hint of a drawl, as if unaccustomed to talking.

She had long black hair, silky but somewhat neglected. Her skin was pale and her frame seemed emaciated, malnutrited. She wore clothes that were much too large for her, made by someone who had never seen her... or made for someone else. "I'm hungry," she said, lining up a tibia with the skull that came before it. She turned her gaze to Kinslammer for the first time. She had black eyes full of mad hunger... literally starving with something that went beyond simple appetite. Deep, dark bags hung beneath her eyes, dark lips that were almost purple revealing a tongue of the same color. "I'm hungry and they are coming soon."

She cast her gluttonous gaze upon the Dwarf, and dropped the bone she was holding. She flipped her hand. Again, again and again. "Soon, soon, soon. Fezinka was right, they come for us. Hard... leathery... taste foul. Soon." Flip. Flip. Flip. "Too late now."

[Colt Kinslammer]

Colt seemed slightly amused at the child's culinary tastes while searching the room for any hidden surprises. He then whispered softly, quieter then anticipated.
"I've food f'ar ye pup. Water, wine.. Though you'll be sharing that now after m' hike up." Inspecting the bones with a deep breath, the Dwarf half expected them to form the outline of some vital symbol while restraining the urge to kick them all aside. Looking the girl over once more his face sagged with mounting age.. understanding the forbearance involved in rearing the Daftness of Gods but none too cheerful 'bout it.

"Looks like a cup ' water ain't all you need .. is't luv."

Raising her chin, the Dwarf examined the strange girl's teeth. "Hmmph. Who's comin? Yer mommy's finally lifted 'her senses and running up to raise you as a proper woman? Doubt that."

His gloved right fist let go almost disgustedly while the stout warrior's left arm was clenched bearing a hammer of steel, business end up. "Best I go say Hello. Tell 'em we ain't buyin.. what'ever it'is They be sellin." Colt turned away to press his visage back outside, stopping mid stride to throw a slur over the shoulder.

"Less it's either a sleigh full of mead or y'er sanity. I'm thinking you could use that.. Aeternia knows I could." He spat in the snow then proceeded ahead through the door with both shoulders hunched. "Bah."