The world was spinning fast.
Either that or Jhykron’s head was spinning.
Margaritas were not intended to be drunk like shots. Nor were they intended to be drunk out of pint sized beer mugs. Especially not multiple pint sized beer mugs.
Blood alcohol poisoning was a serious possibility here.
Luckily for the local citizens, Jhykron saw fit not to drive to the party. Unluckily for Jhykron, it was a long walk home.
A very long walk for someone so pissed he thought his name was “Jhykron”.
It was a cold, clammy night. To make things worse, it looked like it was going to rain.
The street was mostly empty at this time, with the occasional motorist breaking both the silent monotony and the speed limit. Off to the side was a small park.
This was a minor godsend. Parks tended to have trees. Jhykron was in real need of a tree at this point. He staggered off toward something that what remained of his blurred vision told him had the approximately correct shape to be a tree.
One well nourished tree later, Jhykron began making his way back to the road. This was proving difficult to one who had gotten his directions befuddled, and couldn’t walk straight in any case.
Cursing, Jhykron nearly tripped over a stone in the grass. It might have been a hallucination, but it almost seemed to him like a bright blue light flashed in front of his face while he was stumbling.
Odd, that there would be such a perfectly shaped stone sitting in the grass in this park. Even odder, it was not the only such stone, but was in fact one of several that were arranged in a perfect circle. These facts Jhykron failed to notice.
But the wagon was impossible not to notice. It was an old, brightly painted gypsy wagon, of a type that would be seen only at a Renaissance fair in this day and age.
“Welcome, O seeker,” a woman’s voice hailed him from within the wagon.
Given that it had started raining, Jhykron took this as an invitation.
The interior of the wagon was crowded, various vials and curios sitting upon shelves to the side. A small round table dominated the middle of the wagon floor, a dark haired, smooth faced gypsy woman seated behind it.
“At last, thou hast come to fulfill thy destiny,” she spoke, in a loud whisper. “Sit before me now, and I shall pour the light of virtue in the shadows of thy future.”
“Geez, and I thought –I- was in... intoshicated,” Jhykron stuttered. But between the spinning of his head and the incense-filled atmosphere, he decided it would be best to comply, and pulled a wooden chest up next to the table and clumsily took his seat.
“Behold the virtues of the Avatar,” the gypsy announced, as she drew forth a deck of odd looking cards.
“Hey lady, gambling’sh illegal in this shtate. Or are you one of thoshe tribal exshepshions?”
“Let us begin the casting!”
She drew forth two of the cards and placed them face up, at opposite ends of the table. The card on the left depicted an open book, that on the right a wooden cane. The latter card caught Jhykron’s interest.
“Wooo! Gold foil collector’sh edition! Shigned by Dennish Loubet, too. Thish one musht be worth shomething!”
If the Gypsy woman heard any of this, she gave no indication. Speaking as if possessed by a higher power, she began.
“Thy lord doth mistakenly believe he slew a dragon. Thou hast proof thy lance felled the beast. When asked, dost thou A) Honestly claim the kill; or B) Humbly permit thy lord his belief?”
Jhykron looked up, confused. The gypsy woman was obviously waiting for an answer to that rubbish. Finally, he shook his head and replied, “I pick the gold foil card. That one.”
Noting his selection, she flipped that card over into the start on a new pile, while removing the other from the table. With this done, she placed two new cards on the table, the first depicting a balance scale, the second a golden chalice. Both cards were of plain stock, and neither were autographed.
“Thou hast sworn to do thy lord’s bidding in all things. He covets a piece of land and order’s its owner removed. Dost thou A) serve Justice, refusing to act, thus being disgraced; or B) Honor thine oath and evict the landowner?”
Jhykron looked back and forth, then pointed to the chalice card.
“A local bully pushes for a fight. Dost thou A) Valiantly trounce the rogue; or B) Decline, knowing in thy spirit no lasting good will come of it?”
“I’m gonna go with the trounshing thing, at leasht if it meansh going with the cool shword card.”
“Thee and thy friends have been ordered to retreat. In defiance of thy orders, dost thou A) Stop in compassion to aid a wounded comrade; or B) Sacrifice thyself to slow the pursuing enemy so others might escape?”
“Can I pick C) none of the above? No? Guesh I’ll do the compashon thingy, then. Right, that’sh all the cardsh, what do I win?”
The gypsy woman picked up the pile of cards that Jhykron had selected, and dealt the bottom two in the same positions on the table as the previous card sets. Before Jhykron were the valuable wooden cane card, and the golden chalice card.
“Though thou art but a peasant shepherd, thou art discovered to be the sole descendant of a noble family long thought extinct. Dost thou A) Honorably take up the arms of thy ancestors; or B) Humbly resume thy life of simplicity and peace?”
“Never bet againsht the gold foil card. Bet the other one’sh a shucker bet.”
“Thou dost manage to disarm thy mortal enemy in duel. He is at thy mercy. Dost thou A) Show compassion by permitting him to yield; or B) Slay him, as expected of a valiant duelist?”
“Kill the bashtard,” Jhykron shrugged.
The final selection came down to the valuable gold foil collector’s cane card, signed by Dennis Loubet, and the mint condition picture of a shiny sword.
“Although a simple fisherman, thou art also a skillful swordsman. Thy lord dost seek to assemble a peacetime guard. Dost thou A) Answer the call, so that all may witness thy Valor; or B) Humbly decline the offer to join thy lord’s largely ceremonial knighthood.”
Jhykron made his selection.
“The path of the Avatar lies beneath thy feet, worthy one. Go forth among the people, who shall receive thee in joy!”
Her only answer was a loud snore from Jhykron, who had passed out on the table.
