A PATH NOT TAKEN
A single die tumbles....
and the die becomes cards and those cards are laid on the table- Straight Flush, Magister high.
In the Dark, a Mage took the Chance to play a fine Trick on the green gods to Protect others. Five factors, four of which aligned with the story of Ranald. You're not the best at understanding how gods work on the metaphysical level, but even you know that lining up with their narrative makes things more potent. Mork's attention had left you, but his power remained. With a careful strand of
Ulgu you connected the power you could feel with the part of you that attracted cats like meat draws flies. And with a laugh of acceptance from Ranald, you experienced, for a short time, what it was like to be a drinking straw. As Mork looked away to his brother, Ranald pulled...
and pulled...
and
pulled.
And you were the conduit, and the Mage, and the Worshipper, and you had deceived and prowled and protected and risked it all to pull it off-
And you saw him, behind a stand at the Altdorf Carnival when you were only nine, a barker performing card tricks, calling you
yes, you, step right up and see if you can match my wits, clever lass, and you missed the trick and gambled away your five pence-
And you snuck up later and watched how he did it-
And you saw through the trick, he'd slipped it up his sleeve and lied to your face-
And you went to your other apprentices later and warned them what he did-
And in the past that man was Ranald in spirit, and in the present Ranald is him, and as Ranald pulled through you, he pulled a little bit of you, and you lost your five pence again and it became his, but you got yours in the end, didn't you? A little bit of you became him, but that means a part of him became you, didn't it? And you can see that the card was no longer slipped up the sleeves, but burned in your mind with the grey of Ulgu even as it vanished to mundane sight.
And as Mork and Gork howled in rage, Ranald the Magician laughed.
note: A bit incoherent but i have to go to work