Magic

Shadow-Walking (1) - very slow; can add or subtract single items.

Powers (2)

Ritual of the Tarot (2) -

By using a careful examination of the cards, the hero may get hazy, somewhat unreliable information about a person, place or thing. The amount and quality of the information depends on the hero's air scores via logical application of complicated rules of associations and congruencies.

Correspondences:

Major Arcana: The Fool - Walks with Puma, The Magus - Fisher, High Priestess - Fisher's Mother, The Chariot - The Order of the Argent Knights, The Wheel of Fortune - Behemoth, Death - The Brotherhood of Rogues, Temperance - The Guild of Navigators, The Devil - The Wizard's Convention, The Star - Amanita

The Court cards: King of Wands - Tempest, Knight of Wands - Seeker, Page of Wands - Archer, King of Cups - Peregrine, Page of Cups - Turtle, King of Swords - Lance (Fisher's elder brother), Queen of Swords - Starwind, Page of Swords - Peregrine, Knight of Coins - Crane (Fisher's middle brother) Minor Arcana: 6 of Cups - most of Fisher's past girlfriends and one-night-stands, 3 of Coins - Delve

Luck of the Coin (0) - Whenever Fisher bets on the toss of a single coin, he always wins! It's saved him from starving on many occasions. Obviously, he can't do it too often or people get suspicious. Though people who know reckon him a lucky person. [Being able to see the future, however murkily, does have its advantages.]

Description

An adventuring rogue, Fisher has wandered around for some 4 decades, adventuring, casting fortunes with his tarot deck and working as a bodyguard/adventurer/mercenary. He's a bit unreliable or at least that's how he seems and he likes to chat up the girls, telling tall stories about places he's been and things he's done. These stories are actually true, if a trifle embellished. Mysteries and enigmas fascinate him and he follows the leads he sees in his cards. Fisher is a Knight Argent but, though skillful with his sword, his reputation for fulfilling his obligations within the order is poor and he continually moves around to prevent the officers of the Argent Knights catching up with him. His age is around 60 but he looks half this. Recently, Queen Corinne of Rebma manouevred Fisher into walking the Pattern. It is going to take him a while to learn how to use it but it certainly changed him in some very profound ways.

Fisher Walks the Pattern (Rebma)

Fisher walks the Pattern with Queen Corinne and Delve looking on. Fisher's intense concentration is clear to his two watchers. The water washes away all trace but he is sweating with fear. The Pattern is intimidating. As his foot falls upon it, he jumps as if shocked. Sparks dance around his feet and climb his legs.

"It's not as bad as it looks." He shouts, purposefully setting one foot in front of another. He quickly curves back toward the observers. He hits a tougher spot. His pace slows, he moves as if burdened by age. Then his body starts trembling with the work. He takes three paces, face convulsed by the effort. Suddenly he staggers forward, as if released from some strong grip.

Through Fisher's mind rush images from his childhood: his father throwing him into the air, his mother telling stories by the fire of far away places, an ancient and long forgotten tutor teaching him his letters and lineage. These quickly pass to be replaced by places he's visited, men he's fought and beaten, sometimes killed, women he's loved and left.

Lost in his reverie, the second veil takes him almost by surprise but once he realises that he must exert himself again, he focuses and overcomes this obstruction more easily than the one before. This time he does not stagger upon exiting the veil but Delve can see his face looks haggard. Fisher's deeply regretting racing Delve in that vertical sprint they swam down the stairwell.

As the going eases again, Fisher remembers clearly his father's disappearance: his elder brother announcing the loss, his mother's tears and the palace staff's talk of the bloody trees, of the Fae taking King Gaunt. "If we're lucky, he's dead!" said his mother's wise woman, spitting. "If he's not, I see trouble for us all."

Another face, Carina, in tears. "I worry about you, Fisher. You're turning into a serial monogamist."

The Archpriest of the Sungod, dying below his own alter in the arms of his bodyguard. "Farewell, my boy! You could never have prevented this." "Prevent? You made this happen!" Fisher is exasperated. "You let them get to you. Why? Why?" "Because we must have the sacrifice." The old man grins with blueing lips. "When I hired you, I thought it would be...you...but all...good...intentions...."

A swirling filigree of fire rises to meet Fisher. The water seems to boil about him. He moves half crouched, as if in the grip of some deep visceral pain. He holds his hands up close to his chest as if they're burnt or burning. Screaming in pain he hobbles into the Grand Curve. His hands cover his face.

He walks the Grand curve and recalls his first meeting with the Fae and his later relationship with Amanita. He remembers waking to find her dripping something, she said dew, into his sleeping eyes. Following her suggestion to cross a river by a log, only to find it rotten. Her waking him again, this time by sticking a bodkin as sharp as a needle into his side. His scream of pain and rage frightened away the bear molesting his camp.

As he nears the centre of the Pattern, Amanita's evil laugh echoes in his mind. He sees her clearly in the flames, convulsed with laughter at another painful prank she's played on him. The image fades as he again feels the barriers rise.

Ready this time, he steels his will and concentrates on squeezing the last ounce of effort out of his agonised muscles. Through the light and the flames, the watchers see his face contort in horror and disbelief as the resistance rises to the levels of the previous barriers and keeps on rising.

Leaning forward at an impossible angle, his feet seem rooted. His left foot scrapes forward until level with the other. His right edges one inch, then two. His entire body shudders with supreme effort. Desperate, he fixes his eyes upon the fabric wrapped object in the centre of the Pattern. The rest of his body seems not to exist. The world reduces to just the core of his being and the object before him.

Abruptly, the blazing sparks die away and he collapses into the still centre of the Pattern, exhausted. His hand closes round the cloth covered thing instinctively as he half loses consciousness. To Delve and Corinne, he seems to lie still for a minute, as if dead. Then he stirs.

Afterimages from the walk pass through his mind. Three congeal into his consciousness. The first is Meander, his mother. "Home! I want to be home!" he whispers.

Then Amanita comes into his thoughts again, this time serious and sensible, explaining why he should go to Gleamingrose so soon after returning. "You will learn an important new tale of Amber."

Then he becomes aware of the thing in his hand. He recalls following Starwind, Corinne's instructions and...

"The ship! Take me to the Morning Glory!"

And then he vanishes!

from the campaign record by Sheldon Stevens