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[Jode Bonewits]

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It was a dark alley, one that was often overlooked by the busy populace of Britain. The walls were damp, fresh from the rainclouds that had recently passed by. The people had just come out of their homes, and were headed off to the market to fetch their goods and provisions before the day was through. Sunset was fast approaching, and as always the nights would be cold. As their eyes guided them through the streets, little could they notice the lone man which stalked down the common road towards the alleyway.

He wore a cloak which covered his entire backside, and a bandana with a shadow to cover his eyes. To the normal man, he would appear to be blind, but yet oh how his grace carried him untouched through the crowds. His hand upon the hilt of his warfork, he make his towards the dark alley, quietly and quickly, as so to keep out of the sunshine which began to shine from the ever-stretching horizon in the distance. As he reached the alleyway, he took a breath of relief and thumbed his bandana up upon his forehead to see better within the dark alleyway. He often used it to cover his eyes, for there is nothing quite more suspicious than to have two different colored eyes, left of calm gentle hazel, and the right of dark ruby red. Both of a man, and yet both of their own identity.

Walking down the alleyway, Jode began to wonder if the talk of a fortune teller may yet be true or not, but then again there was no reason to turn back, to turn back to Umbra and lurk within the shadows among the rogues and necromancrs.

"...this is pointless", he muttered to himself as he took his steps, reaching deeper into the darkness. All that was ahead was but a bleak, blank shroud of shadow ahead, and what would seem as if nothing held refuge within this alley. As he began to turn to leave, two torches shot up in flame, two pillars bordering a small green and gold tend at the back of the alleyway. What would seemed as an empty dead end, somehow eluded even Jode's senses as to its hidden location.

Curious, Jode began to approach the tent at a fast pace, and slowed his steps as he reached the tent entrance. It was short, too short for him, but this is where he had to be and it was evident enough that the idea was mutual to whom whatever being might be revealing itself from his presence in the alleyway. Crouching down, Jode entered the tent entrance only to find himself in a dim-lit room, with gypsy furniture and ancient candles set up and around the furniture. In the middle of the room, an old woman looked up to him with large bulging eyes, as if she was staring straight into his soul. Catching that, Jode quickly stepped back and gripped his warfork, the decided against it. After all, what could she do to him?

Watching her, she did not seemed frightened by his appearance, nor his eyes, yet intrigued nonetheless. The old gypsy woman tilted her head, which was tucked within a hood from her garments, and patted the front of her table, which he assumed meant that she wanted him to have a seat in the old chair which was set out in front of her table. Still watching her intently, and taking a second look around the room for any sort of mischief, he released his grip on his weapon and slowly, cautiously, settled into the chair before her.

"Easy, easy my dear. There is nothing to be afraid of here. I knew you were coming, my visions told me so.", said the old gypsy, her voice sounding that of a general old woman, graggy and deteriorated. Uneasy, Jode eyed the old woman once final time before he released any tensions he held back. He was not in danger, he could tell, but he also knew that this was no normal place. Magic was at work, that was for sure.

"Is it true what they say of you?", asked Jode, eager for an answer. "Yes...I am Opal, the gypsy fortune teller." Jode felt relaxed then, seeing that she indeed had no secrets to hide in her days of old age. Seeing this, he took a breath and proceeded to remove his right glove upon his hand. As he took the glove off, Opal looked to Jode's hand with a slight sense of interest at the scar which had so faded itself. Indeed, as it had been flued by Oblivion it was pitch black, eminating with magic, yet now unfueled held nothing more but a memory, a memory to remind him that his past had indeed been a reality.

Jode then layed his hand upon the table then, his palm up for the gypsy to see. "Close your eyes.", she muttered, and with that she slowly layed her wrinkeled, pruny hand upon his. As Jode held his mind clear of thought, images began to pour within it, images of what he assumed was his lifetime passing through his eyes...

A shining light...

...a gust of wind...

...a forest all around him...

...and a green haired half-elf...

...sitting cross legged upon the forest floor.

Jode grunted, but let the images pass. One must always face their past.

Marching...soldiers marching...

...swordfight, laughing, and an inner fire...

...passion blazing, within the sword and the heart...

...and eyes above, watching him.

Opal then flinched abit, as if seeing what he would before he would see them himself.

Banners...banners...banners...

...a city and a forest...

...the city soldiers, they march in their order's uniform...

...the forest's leaves, the chaotic whim of wind gusting through the leaves...

..and the half elf stands between.

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Questions, questions, questions...

...frustration, and then a woman holds his hand...

...she smiled, he relaxes...

...but yet their hands meet between two seperate worlds.

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A shadow grows...

...it starts from the hand, engulfs the body...

...and lich embraces Dan, his hair turns deathly white...

...and the right side of his body scars of black markings.

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Now the shadow is hollow...

...the shadow fades, the man remains...

...but never the same, never the same...

...a hollow shallow, a man, whom holds no purpose.

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Now the shadow, it sees the light...

...it comes to purge...

...it comes to bring him back...

...yet the shadow stands strong, something fills it...

...and it eminates darkness, it eminates purpose.

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Death is coming, death is waiting...

...death comes to the lights prey, as so it may make him its own...

...but then the vision fades, the future unclear...

...for fate now rests within the hands of the half-elf.

Shooting his eyes open, he glared to the old gypsy and she slowly opened her own, calm and quite accepting. Looking into his eyes, she paused a moment before telling him her fortune.

"You have many questions. Questions that even the greatest of scholars have not solved. You feel lost in the idea of perceptions, and cannot find a real truth as to what you must follow. You have passion, but lack purpose, and that is what you yearn for. You must seek a goal, wherever it may take you. Every journey must come to and end, but in the end it is the journey that matters most."

Jode blinked, looking to her with upmost intrigue, but said nothing. Her eyes told no lies, and again he knew that she had nothing to hide from him, that she only told him what she knew. Startled from it all, he sat for a moment, digesting the information, but before could reply to her a shadow shrouded their entire surroundings. Before any action could be made, Jode found himself within the very chair, still in a shadow but at the entrance of the alleyway where he had begun his venture.

Taking her words into account, he quickly stepped out of the chair and proceeded back home, to Umbra.
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AKA: Dan