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Message: <blockquote data-quote="simmo" data-source="post: 1412765" data-attributes="member: 9744">Part 15 Fate Takes a Handchapter 1 Broken PromisesAfter Deus had retired upstairs, the others stayed in the tavern and ordered another round of drinks. It took awhile before the drinks were finally brought over by a sullen looking inn-keeper and many of the other patrons retired to the houses."As far as I can tell it, the important organisations include number one the Expansionists," Serena tried to make sense of what was going on by summarizing recent events. "Number two is whoever my mother is working with. Now as far as I can tell she is planning an illithid invasion of Tal'Nattan. Danster, who is a member of the Expansionists, was trying to prevent that." The seer played with her wine glass but did not drink any of it. "That puts those two organisations diametrically opposed. Orroloth is working with my mother. Or at least my mother has used him for something. Yes, he could be deep, deep involved in intrigue. But is he going to be helping both sides? Probably yes.""We don't know if he was the one who hired the group that actually got Timlin out," Littleby pointed out."We do know is that he wrote that contract on my father." Serena signed and wondered how many other unfortunates were trapped inside the Orroloth's contracts."Right," Littleby commented. "Because your step-mother asked him to.""Yes," the seer tried the wine that the innkeeper had brought and was pleasantly surprised by how good it was. "Because my step-mother paid him to I would imagine.""Well, the Harmonium said that he was an ally of hers. But it might just mean that he wrote a contract that aided her." Littleby was aware that Serena sometimes made connections were none existed. "But that does not mean that they share the same goals.""No," Serena said. "Absolutely she paid him to do a job and he did it. The matter could be that simple.""What do you plan to do if you go back home?" Malkir asked."Kill her," the heart seer of Tomeri replied without pause."How?" the mystic asked. Curious to find out if Serena had any kind of plan."That is a good question." The seer sighed and thought about what it would be like to see her step-mother dead.The innkeeper was in the process of cleaning up some of the tables and closing the bar when an old man walked in to the tavern. The elderly man wore what once had been a fine set of clothes. The clothes were now frayed at the edges and stained in several places. He smiled as her stepped across the threshold in to the inn and walked slowly across the floor to sit at an empty table near the companions."Malkir," the old man said after he'd sat down."Yes," the mystic replied somewhat surprised to be addressed by the old man."Malkir, how good is your memory these days?" The old man spoke in a familiar and friendly tone as if the tow had known each other for a very long time."Pretty good," the mystic replied, unsure of where these questions were heading."Do you remember that things I asked you?" The old man smiled, but this time the mystic could see that the smile did not quite reach the old man's eyes. Those were cold and hard as the roots of the mountains.Malkir recognised the old man as being the traveller that they'd met in Elysium when they first arrived on the planes. He was the one whom they helped with his wagon and that was when they had run across Littleby. After Serena had spent some time in the realm of Tomeri and been made a Chosen of Tomeri, the old man had accompanied them to the Outlands city of Automata."Do you remember that thing about me asking you to build something for me?" The old man made the question sound as if he was asking about a small favour that they'd agreed upon previously. Suddenly the mystic realised who and what the old man was and why he was asking these questions."Now that's interesting," Malkir said to the avatar of Nyon, small god of Fate and Prophecy. The mystic had never considered that the innocent looking merchant whom they'd helped might also be another form which the avatar of Nyon might take. He did not have long to think about this as the old man seemed intent upon making his point."I don't know why I bother, I honestly don't know." The old man sighed and it sounded as if he was letting out his final breath. For the first time since Malkir had met him, the old man actually looked very tired. Actually, a better word would be weary, the mystic thought. "You were visited by Crowson, weren't you?" The old man asked knowing what the answer would be."Uhu." Malkir did not bother to answer the question properly as he knew that it was a rhetorical one."Now Crowson is a meddler." The old man put a strong emphasis on the last word. "Meddler." He said again to repeat his point. "That is a bad thing. I am not a meddler, I try to make good things happen.""At least he's not a knight of the post," Littleby muttered under his beard, not aware of who the old man was."I wouldn't be so sure," Serena said, knowing what kind of a deity Nyon was."So you did not do it and instead you Converged and Diverged," the old man made the comment more to himself that anyone else."And Diverged?" The mystic asked, feeling genuinely surprised."You did not think that you could hold on for long, did you?" The old man smiled, but this time it was not a pleasant or warm smile. He sighed and the sinister smile disappeared to be replaced by a weary and compassionate expression."It's why I sent him to you. Galen, an old man. Lives in Limbo. He gave you a riddle." The old man said each sentence slowly, waiting for the moment that Malkir would know who he was referring to. When he mentioned the riddle, Malkir's eyes lit up in recognition."The Githzerai," Malkir said, having just learned that his teacher-to-be was called Galen."Yes." The old man nodded his head, looking like an ancient teacher who is faced with a somewhat slow student."Yes," the mystic replied. "I met him." He recalled how the Githzerai and his followers had burst in to the house in Sigil, but understood that it was all part of a test."You see that is me trying to help you," the old merchant tried to get the inn-keepers attention about getting a drink, but the inn-keeper ignored him and retired upstairs."Right," Malkir said completely unconvinced."Do you remember what the riddle is about?" The old man asked, referring to the riddle that Galen gave to Malkir. "If I will not be for me, then who will be for me?" He quoted the first sentence of the riddle. "If I will be for me, then what am I?""And if not now then when," Malkir finished off the last sentence of the riddle."This is directly related to the Divergence. You have become you through the Convergence and now parts of you Diverge." The old man pulled out a small flask from his coat and took a swig from it. "If you'd built the Temple then you would have been fine. But no, you had to go with Crowson to the Tower and it all got messed up.""Had you considered that lack of information made me go down this road?" The mystic asked, annoyed at being lectured to by Nyon, god of Fate and Destiny."Yes, but I didn't know how much your tiny brain could take." The old merchant answered the mystic's question as if he was talking down to a small child that he wished to make feel even smaller."Oh, personal insults." The mystic smiled, having managed to rile Nyon."Not insults." The old man put on his best wicked smile. "Just venting a little, you understand. Venting.""I can understand venting," the mystic replied."Good," the old merchant stated, glad that they'd finally agreed upon something."You know that's very interesting." Serena joined in, having sat in silence watching the exchange between Malkir and the old man."Serena Allman," The old man stopped staring at the mystic and gave the seer a warm and welcoming smile. "What a pleasure it is to see you again.""And you," the seer replied, it being furthest from the truth. "You say that you are not a meddler.""Thank you for the help that you gave me with the wagon when it was stuck in the fields." The old merchant spoke in a less authoritative tone and more like a mind mannered elderly gentleman who was thanking a friend for a favour. "I would have been stuck there for some time if you had not helped me out."The seer stared at him, displeasure clearly visible in her expression. "I don't buy your disguise.""Oh this disguise, I'll have to get a new one." The old man laughed, as if his ruse had been seen through and his practical joke had been revealed. "I'll sell it to you. thirty gold? Perhaps not."Littleby had been watching the entire time and was trying to figure out how Nyon had possessed the merchant called Agar. The old man's voice, expressions and mannerisms changed so quickly when he addressed wither Serena or Malkir, that he had trouble following who was who."It is Agar," Malkir said, seeing Littleby staring at the old man in confusion. "Just Nyon as well.""That I am," the old man stood up and bowed with the grace of an experienced performer."Which is very interesting considering what you said just now," Serena commented."Anyway, thank you for you help with the wagon." The old man smiled warmly at Serena and his expression hardened to a angry glare as he turned back to Malkir. "So no temple then? I'll have to come up with something else. Something will work out. It's all for the best.""Fate will have its way," the mystic stated as if that explained everything."Of course," the old merchant laughed heartily. "When your holding all the string, Fate will always have its way.""Since meeting Crowson I've changed my mind about who is holding all the strings." The mystic's reply stopped the old man's laughter dead in its tracks.The elderly merchant sat down again and did not look very pleased. As he did so he whispered to Malkir in a fierce voice. "Crowson has completely the wrong end of the stick."</blockquote>

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