Deck of Hand, Head and Heart (non-magic item)

It was the last week of school before the summer break, and for Billobi and best friend Tristan "Hum" Beadle it also felt like the longest. All the tests and projects for this term were completed, so these last days served no other purpose than to torment the poor pupils with "fun facts" and "interesting people" - at least, that's what Billobi thought. He failed to see the fun in listening to old people talking about how things were when they were young in Badgerbrough (mostly how much more expensive everything had become), or cleaning your desk for the tenth time.

On the last day an old man visited the class. The teacher presented him as Mr. Pimbleman, brother to the famous brewer.

"Good day, young students!" he said and took off his hat. "A fine day for indoor activities, isn't it?"

Outside the sun drenched the schoolyard in warmth, making the horizon ripple nervously. Tristan buried his head in his hands with a sigh and longed for the ocean.

"Just kidding! I was once in your seat, believe it or not. I'll make it short, I promise. Have any of you ever seen one of these?"

Mr. Pimbleman pulled out a thin deck of cards, and held them up high. No one answered.

"Apparently not! It's called a deck of hand, head and heart, and it is used for fortune-telling. Does anyone know what that means?"

At this point, the teacher stepped forward and whispered something in Mr. Pimbleman's ear with a troubled look on her face.

"No, it's all right, Mrs. Alcott", he said to her with a smile, "I'm sure they can handle it. They won't be cursed or anything...or WILL THEY?"

He paused and glanced over the class room to see if he'd caught anyone's interest - he hadn't.

"Anyway... A deck of hand, head and heart tells something about someone, by the use of special symbols on the cards."

The teacher stepped forward again and whispered something into his ear, still with a troubled face.

"No, the symbols aren't magical, Mrs. Alcott, I assure you no one will come to harm."

He went silent as he shuffled the deck with great care.

"But what use is a deck of fortune-telling cards without anyone to tell the fortune to? I need a volunteer. Anyone?"

Remembering what the old man said about not taking too long, Billobi raised his hand to end it quicker.

"Lovely! What is your name, young man?"

"Billobi Rustfoot."

"Billobi, let us see what the cards have in store for you. We'll draw three cards from the deck: one for the heart, one for the head, and one for the hands. The heart card tells about your feelings or inner beliefs. Okay?"

Billobi nodded.

"Okay. So, the heart card is a...aha, look at this, a Lady of Love!"

Mr. Pimbleman held up the card for the class to see. It had a rather obscure drawing of a women with strange, oversized proportions, especially the bosom.

"This, young pupils, is the Lady of Love. She most often stands for love and affection. Tell me Billobi, is there a special girl in your life at the moment?"

At the sounding of those words, Billobi felt how his heart began to beat harder. He stared Mr. Pimbleman in the eyes and shook his head intensively.

"Really? Not a single one? Maybe someone in your class? Someone slightly more cuter than the rest?"

As his heart kept racing, Billobi could feel the sneering looks from the other students, pointing at him and giggling. A warmth started to spread in his face, and he wished he could blame the sun for it. He shook his head again, harder than the first time.

"Okay, we'll leave it there", said Mr. Pimbleman with a smile. "So, you have the Lady of Love in your heart, let's see what your head says!"

He pulled another card from the deck and showed it; it was a grotesque picture of a whale with the sun and the moon in its mouth.

"Of course, the World Whale! This ugly creature stands for surroundings, or the day and night cycle. While the heart card reveals your true feelings, the head card tells what you're thinking about, or how you reason with your heart. The World Whale in your head tells us that the love in your heart is someone you're thinking about all the time, day and night!"

The giggling had now turned into laughter. Billobi sat there in silence, face red as sunset, wishing he had never raised his hand. Tristan would surely remind him of this day for the rest of his life.

"And now, the hand card, which tells us how you deal with these feelings and thoughts. Let's ask the deck once more..."

Mr. Pimbleman pulled the last card from the deck, and showed it to the class. The card had a square, bearded head pictured on it, with its mouth closed.

"Obviously, it is the mute, or the shutter; he who closes up and reveals nothing! So, Billobi, according to the cards, your heart desires someone - or something - that you can't stop thinking about, but you handle it by not to telling anyone about it. Does that sound accurate to you, hmm?"

Billobi shook his bright red head in silence.

"Very well! Well, that's all I've got. Thank you all for your time, especially you Billobi, and thank you Mrs. Alcott for having me, it was a pleasure."

Mr. Pimbleman received a round of applause before Mrs. Alcott wished everybody a nice summer, and declared the start of the summer holiday. During the chaos and cheering that followed, Billobi all of a sudden met Ana Althorp's eyes across the class room - and they were bluer than ever.

A deck of hand, head and heart contains cards with various symbols or drawings, and is used for fortune-telling.

The fortune-teller first draws one card for the heart; this is said to tell about inner beliefs, true feelings, and so on.

The second card drawn is for the head; this tells about reasoning and logic about what the heart believes.

The last card to be drawn is for the hands; this reveals how the person deals with all these things through words and actions.

The possible meanings of the symbols are infinite, and the ones presented below are just some of the more common. Some of the symbols found on the cards include:


The Lady of Love

Possible meanings
Love, Affection, Lust, Fertility, Naiveness, Inability to take action

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Love

Possible meaning when drawn in head
Not thinking clear

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Fumbling








The Striped Sword

Possible meanings
Battle, Duality, Sharp-sightedness, Toughness, Readiness, Wit

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Undecided

Possible meaning when drawn in head
On the alert

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Looking for a fight








The Devourer

Possible meanings
Gullibility, Hunger, Searcher, Keen learner, Yearning, Theft

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Regret

Possible meaning when drawn in head
Eager student

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Thieving








The Mute
(or The Shutter)

Possible meanings
Liar, Ignorance, Nonchalantness, Hiding, Dumbfounded, Starvation

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Ashamed

Possible meaning when drawn in head
Withholding information/lying

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Hiding






The Reversal

Possible meanings
Opposite, Inversion, Negation, Conflict

Possible meaning when drawn in heart/head/hands
Depends on the other two cards, often negating a feeling/reasoning/action (or stating a conflict)






The Tainted Tree

Possible meanings
Escape, Growth, Escalation, Filthy, Deceitfulness

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Bad intentions

Possible meaning when drawn in head
Plotting

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Spreading rumours/mongering








The World Whale

Possible meanings
Surroundings, The entire world/everything, Transitions, Day/Night, Cycles, Enclosure, Imprisonment

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
In control

Possible meaning when drawn in head
Megalomaniac

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Repeating with obsession





The Mask of Mazes

Possible meanings
Delusion, Confusion, Entanglement, Chaos, Craze, Hindrance

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Despair

Possible meaning when drawn in head
Lost

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Uncertain about what to do




The Serpent Spot

Possible meanings
Concealment, Traps, Fraud, Unsafe spot, Hidden agenda, Sneaking, Crawling

Possible meaning when drawn in heart
Dominated

Possible meaning when drawn in head
To serve or go by unnoticed

Possible meaning when drawn in hand
Covering one's tracks

Message sticks (magic item)

It had been yet another night of face licking for Billobi, but at this point he was used to it. Sleeping on the floor in Mr. Bickleigh's brick house was a sure way of getting your face clean by the house cat; Mr. Bigglesworth sure had a rough tongue.

Living all alone in the middle of the Ogrebelly forest meant giving up on some of the convenience of a city or village, but Mr. Bickleigh didn't mind. The forest had everything he needed in terms of food, magical ingredients and - strangely enough - intellectual exchange.

"I talked to some heather last night", Mr. Bickleigh said and put a pot on the stove. "You'd think they'd be quite the conversationalists, Mr. Rustfoot, but sadly they just talk in riddles and twisted wordplays. Bah, it's easier to talk to a stream!"

Billobi got up on his feet and walked over to the kitchen window to adore the scenery for a second.

"How does one talk to heather anyway?" Billobi asked.

"What do you mean? With your mouth of course! But Mr. Bigglesworth, what are you doing! You stupid cat!"

Billobi turned around and saw the cat looking back at them both with a postage stamp attached to his nose, and one sticking out from his mouth half-chewed. It didn't seem to understand what the fuss was about.

"Congratulations, Mr. Bigglesworth! Your indisputable and unmatched hunting abilities have yet again led you to the feast of your lifetime - my box of stamps! I admit my defeat, you fat cat!"

"I don't understand", said Billobi, "he likes stamps?"

"Oh, 'like' is such a weak word", said Mr. Bickleigh and started to fumble with the pile of wood over at the stove. "I would rather say that he crave for them! I guess they shouldn't make the sticky stuff on the back so tasty, am I right Mr. Bigglesworth?"

The cat pulled off the stamp on his nose with the paw, and started to chew on it. Mr. Bickleigh took a bunch of narrow sticks from the wood pile, and headed for the front door.

"Come Mr. Rustfoot", he said and opened up the door. "I presume a man of your curious nature never turns down an opportunity to witness something old and magical?"

Billobi shook his head and smiled.

"Besides, I need to borrow your pen and some paper."

Mr. Bickleigh led Billobi to a small fireplace just outside. It consisted of big chunks of rock formed in a crude circle, with some charcoal in the middle from last night's cooking.

"Since that fat cat of mine decided to feast on my stamps on the very day I needed them, I guess I'll have to resort to more unconventional ways of communication. Put some logs on, will you?"

Billobi went around the house and fetched some logs and piled them up nicely in the middle of the stone circle.

"Stand back, or I'll have your nose hair burned off!" Mr. Bickleigh said, and snapped his fingers upon which the logs started to burn immediately.

"People tend to believe it's the motion, when it's really the sound", he added somewhat proud. "Anyway! Pen and paper, please!"

Billobi handed his pen and a piece of paper, tools which he never left home without. Mr. Bickleigh started to write immediately.

"There! This" - he folded the paper twice - "is my message, and that" - he threw the paper into the fire - "is my way of sending it. And now, we'll peel some sticks."

He handed some of the narrow sticks he brought with him to Billobi, and started to peel off their bark. After doing about fifteen or so, he bundled them together and threw them on the fire.

"Those are my receivers", he said and pointed at the sticks, which began to twist and turn in the heat. "A stick for a letter, so it's best to peel aplenty. Quick! Pull them out! Hurry, before they all turn into c's! Quickly, Mr. Rustfoot, my fingers are to valuable for such labour!"

Billobi performed some sort of hopping dance while trying to get the sticks out of the fire. He lined the burned and twisted sticks up in front of them. Somehow, nine of them had turned into crude, ornate letters, and one single stick remained straight but with a small dot placed on it. Mr. Bickleigh immediately started arranging them in different ways, until they spelled out two words, with the dotted stick in between, separating them.

"Hmm..." he said, clearly annoyed. "That's not very nice."

"May I ask what you wrote on the paper?"

"It was merely a request from one friend to another - or, so I thought! - about deliverance of certain beverages to my home, at his expense. Nothing fancy, maybe just some bottles of Pimbleman's Teeth or Horsehead's Stout. Maybe some ripe cheese. And that tasty sourdough bread... Well, that clearly shows that you can't be friends with innkeepers! Pen and paper, please!"

He wrote a new message, folded the paper and threw it on the fire.

"Come, Mr. Rustfoot", Mr. Bickleigh said and headed towards the house again. "No need to wait for an answer to that!"

Message sticks are a way of communicate over long distances using only fireplaces and narrow sticks. Any type of stick will do, as long as the bark is peeled off.

To send a message, one must write it down on a piece of paper (or some other material), fold it and throw it on the fire. Since it's impossible to know how many letters the response will contain, it's best to throw as many sticks as possible on the fire, since one stick corresponds to one letter.

After some seconds, the sticks will begin to twist and turn into letters, at which point they should be removed (or they'll turn into C's). Straight sticks with a dot on them should be treated as word dividers.

Unfortunately, the sticks need to be arranged properly after turning into letters, since they come out all scrambled. This is why most people prefer writing letters.

Slow exchange (spell)

Slow exchange
Range: One object (special)
Duration: One week (special)

It had been a boring week of mostly sitting down for old Billobi Rustfoot, when there all of a sudden was a knock on his door. He put on his glasses, grabbed his walking stick and got up from the comfort of his favourite piece of furniture (an old present from his long gone cousin Hamphred). With a little help from his stick he managed to fight gravity long enough to reach the front door. Opening it revealed a young woman dressed in all black - obviously a letter carrier in service of Penny Black.

"G'day Sir", she said with a firm voice, jaws barely open. "Letter for Mr Rustfoot."

"That's me", said Billobi and smiled.

"G'day Mr Rustfoot, that will be one and six, Sir."

"One and six? Well that's just... I remember when it only cost a flat one..."

He continued to mumble while searching through his pockets with his free hand. There, deep down, could he feel the coins waiting for his gnarly fingers.

"Say... You remind me of someone", Billobi said and inspected the young woman's face.

"Is that so?"

"Yes... Why you look... Cursed coins! You will appreciate your former strength when you get this old!"

"Is that so? One and six, Mr Rustfoot", she said, not overly enthusiastic.

"Yeah, yeah... Now I know! You remind me of my...my daughter!"

"I'm flattered, Sir. One and six. Hurry up or Penny Black will make a visit, Mr Rustfoot."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get your money you..." - his words disappeared when he finally got a hold of the coins. He reached out his hand to the letter carrier, who collected the right amount without a word.

"Thank you. G'day to you, Sir."

Just a sudden as she had appeared, she was gone. Billobi closed the door and defied yet again gravity with his walking stick. With a soft thud he fell into the chair, embraced by the warmth of the stuffing.

He inspected the envelope carefully. It was thick, thicker than average. The writing on the front was too small for him to read. He reached for his letter knife on the table next to him (also an old present from yet another gone friend; old Badsey, the former ferryman of Ketch-in-Loch), ripped up the envelope and pulled out a letter written on a thick piece of paper.

He started to read it: "Dear old friend! As I write this I'm looking out over miles and miles of pure gold; warm, yellow sand that forms the beach right next to my small cottage. The heat, good lords, the heat! Tall, naked trees that carries fruits sweeter than your dear mother's apple pie - gods rest her soul - and tall, naked women... Dear friend, you'd love it here! Our old bones and joints need this paradise. To give you a taste of the good life, I've attached a marker. It looks like a stamp, only larger."

Billobi turned the letter around but couldn't see anything that resembled a stamp. But when he shook the envelope upside down, a square piece of paper fell out. It was thin and had a drawing of a cat on it.

He continued reading: "I've drawn a cat on it - don't laugh, I did my best! Now, what you have there is a very special marker, enchanted by a good friend of mine. What I want you to do now is to lick on its back, and attached it on something the size of a small cat. Think of it like putting a stamp on an envelope! (I didn't have the money to pay for the stamp on this letter, though. Sorry about that, old friend!) "

While muttering about his cheapskate for a friend, he searched his living room for anything as large as a cat. Finally, he settled for the torn wastepaper basket that sat next to his chair. He licked the square piece of paper, and pressed it against the side of the basket. It sat loose, but didn't fall off at least.

He continued: "As soon as you've done this, it will be impossible to remove it."

Billobi reached out his hand and tried to pry it off, unsuccessfully.

The last lines of the letter read: "I have a similar marker here, which will start to glow as soon as you've attached yours. Now, over the next seven days, keep an eye open, and don't through away whatever you've attached the marker to - you'll see, old friend! / Your friend overseas, Tristan".

Over the next seven days, Billobi experienced something truly extraordinary. Every day, one small part of the basket was replaced by something thorny and dark brown. On the seventh day, the basket was completely gone, and replaced by something that looked like a brown little ball, with green, hard leaves on top. After a careful investigation by his friend down by the docks, he was informed that it was a pineapple, and was shown how to eat it. Though sweet, he didn't really care for the taste.


Some weeks later a new letter from Tristan arrived. Yet another one and six shorter, Billobi opened up the envelope and found a short note along with another marker. The note said: "Dear friend! The village enchanter has made a stronger marker! Just look at the drawing and you'll understand. See you soon! / Your friend overseas, Tristan".

After turning it around a couple of times, Billobi finally recognize the drawing on the marker. He immediately licked it, attached it to his forehead and went straight to bed.

A slow exchange-spell is usually cast upon a pair of stamps, which then are attached to the objects that the caster wish to swap out. The stamps must be made out of a fine piece of paper (not necessarily magical).

It takes one week for the exchange to take place. Every day, one seventh of the two pieces are swapped, resulting in quite fascinating (or horrible) mixtures. Living things such as fruits, animals, humans, etc. aren't harmed by this remarkable piece by piece exchange, although it may affect their ability to walk and talk (e.g. exchanging a man and a barrel).

It is custom to draw something the size of the object to exchange on the stamps as a guideline. Exchanging objects that differs too greatly in size may result in death (or worse).

Casting this spell upon an object directly (other than a pair of stamps) will cause it to disappear into a special kind of void, where it will sit and wait (forever, if so). The next time the spell is cast directly upon an object, it will trade places with that object, and so on. Note that this is independently of whoever cast, so that a person who casts this spell twice in a row can't be sure to get the first object back (it may already been replaced).

The markers will come off by themselves on the seventh day.

Dowsing rod (magic item)

As a traveller and explorer, Billobi had seen more than anyone usually do in one's lifetime; from the brightest shining gemstones, to the darkest slimy creatures, he had seen it all. But even as he grew older, things still seemed to pop up from nowhere and surprise him. If he was lucky, he had his pen ready and could add it to his journal. If he was unlucky, he had to run for his life, pen or no pen.

The only person Billobi knew of that had seen as much strange things as himself was his old friend Thomas Althorp, owner of the only antique shop in the town of Horsehead. Visiting his shop was a sure way of experience new, weird things.

Almost.

"A branch?" asked Billobi and looked at the twig at the table. He and Thomas stood by the counter, opposite sides, observing the dead piece of wood.

"Yep", said Thomas. "Not very exciting, eh?"

"Not the least... What does it do?"

"Well..." - Thomas scratched his chin - "The gentleman who sold it to me said it could be used as a dowsing rod."


"A dowsing rod? Surely you know those never works, dear friend?"

"That's what I told him, but he assured it wasn't meant to be used here, and certainly not for water."

Billobi picked up the y-shaped branch and studied it up close, without noticing any kind of interesting features. "What do you mean 'not here', as in not in Horsehead? Soo...he sold you a dowsing rod that doesn't work in this town, or not at all for that matter? Maybe retailing isn't your cup of tea..."

"Hey! Maybe I'll make you buy it!" They stood quiet for while, inspecting the gnarled thing, when Thomas all of a sudden said: "Oh, I almost forgot! He was in a hurry so he had prepared a pamphlet for the rod. Let me just fetch it."

He disappeared into the backroom, and Billobi could hear him going through - possibly - piles of papers, cursing and mumbling. Some minutes later, he came back with a small grey piece of paper.

"Here it is! Let me read it for you", Thomas said and unfolded it. "'Dear new owner of this dowsing rod, know what you hold in your very possession, because it is the Key in your dreams. Owner, if you have pursued this item as I have, we both know what you are going through. For six days or less, you've been having nightmares, impossible to escape from, in which you're being hunted by the projection of your curse. Owner, you may have been beaten senseless and scared half to death in your dreams, but know that with the Key on your nightstand, it will guide you in your darkest dreams, to the safehaven where the projection may do you no harm. Treat it well, and keep it with you always, as you will never know when you will sleep the next time! But know this, owner, after the sixth day, no Key will help you, as the projection will take..."

Thomas stopped, obviously shaken by the words.

"What does it say, dear friend?" Billobi asked, almost whispering.

Thomas continued: "'...as the projection will take the step into our world, where you have to face it alone. Owner, know this, I too dreaded for the seventh day, but I stood tall and defeated my projection. I am now free, and pass this rod on to guide your through your six nightmares. Owner, I wish you the best of luck.'"

"Well..." Billobi said and wiped his fingers against the counter. "Whatever vile curse it is that cause that kind of nightmares, I sure hope it isn't contagious..."

These kinds of dowsing rods only works in dreams of a cursed person, where it will look and feel as in the real world. It is employed in the same way as ordinary dowsing rods, with the difference that it will find a spot (or "safehaven") in the dream where the projection that haunts the dreamer cannot harm him or her (as long as the dreamer stays put till he wakes).

Nobody knows for sure what the cause of these curses are, but they all seem to progress in the same way. Since the cause is unknown, so is the incubation period, but when the disease breaks out the affected person will have nightmares, six nights in a row. In theses nightmares (which will vary greatly, probably depending on things such as origin of the infection, the person infected, etc.), a terrible projection of evil will hunt the dreamer and hurt him until they wake up. The projection may change from night to night, but will almost always have some personal meaning to the affected person.

On the seventh night, the projection will take on a real life form and approach the person. If defeated, the curse is defeated and the person free. The projection must be killed by the affected person, otherwise the projection will go back into the dream plane where it will hunt for another six nights.

There have been reports of people unaffected by the curse being able to use these rods in ordinary dreams, finding wondrous places and peoples, and strange, magical things - or even themselves.

Itchy tree (monster)

Hamphred Dungbeetle, Billobi's cousin and the second largest person in the whole county, didn't care much for prudishness. The hot climate in the southern parts of the country were notorious, and demanded "certain solutions", as Hamphred often declared. One of these included a large, stationary bathtub out on the front lawn, next to the big road.

"Them believers always talks 'bout sacrifices and pleasing them gods and what not", Hamphred told young Billobi once while lowering his naked body into the bathtub. "So if - aaaaah! - them fancy gods created this warmer-than-a-cat-on-fire-weather, one would think they'd expect some sacrifices, right? Well, I'm sacrificing the very dirt and sweat on me body, I am! The best there is!"

He also made a bathtub for Billobi by taking the wheels off an old wagon and filling it with water. Every evening, after a full day's work, Hamphred and Billobi undressed and got in their tubs, cooling down while the sun slowly set in the distance - and greeting anyone passing by.


Billobi cherished every memory he had of these moments - especially one. It was after a particular warm day. Both he and Hamphred lay in their tubs, eyes closed and minds adrift.

Suddenly, something shaded them both. Something that said: "Good evening, fellow brothers!"

They opened their eyes and saw a naked man, grinning at them both. Judging from his posture - among other things - he must've been old.

"Yes, good evening to you too, old man. A bit warm, are we!" Hamphred said with a laughter.

"Noo, well yes, it's quite hot today, isn't it, but noo, clothes are the burden of the ones yet to be blessed, the non-ascended, don't you agree?"

"I don't care for words I don't know", Hamphred answered and closed his eyes again.

"Well, yes, it's understandable, although a bit ignorant, I must say. However, why don't the two of you come join us in the merry blessing's of the trees? We're building quite the community, you know."

"Them words leaving your mouth doesn't make any more sense than a bucket on a head, old man."

"Well, to make a long story short... By the Itch, is that your dog?" The old man suddenly shouted.

"If this is about them gull flowers..." Hamphred said and opened his eyes, only to discover his neighbour's dog Ten happily wagging his tail next to the bathtub. Usually hairy as a bear, the dog now had a large hairless area on its left hind leg. In the centre of the otherwise pale skin was a strange symbol in red, almost pulsating as if it was breathing.

"Ah, Ten, you dumb dog", Hamphred said and splashed water at the dog. "Couldn't stay away from them itchy trees, could you?"

"This dog's been blessed!" the old man proclaimed with a solemn voice.

"No, he's... Wait a minute... Old man, don't tell me you're one of them rashers!"

"We prefer to call ourselves Huggers!"

Billobi never forget the sight of Hamphred flying out of the bathtub and chasing the old man off his properties under heavy cursing, dressed in what mother nature tailored for them at birth. The dog licked the rash a couple of times, before running after them in an unnatural high speed.

Itchy trees are called so for their highly toxic bark. Touching the bark will most certainly cause complete hair loss at the affected area. More interesting, in some rare cases will the rash form a strange red symbol, pulsating at a slow pace.

The symbol will affect its wearer by some magical means - beneficial or harmful. There have been no successful reports of how to determine this behaviour.

Consuming the bark is lethal, and have never resulted in any magical effects taken place - only death.

The rash will last for a couple of days, after which both the symbol and any magical effects will disappear.

A multitude of cults have evolved around these trees, of which nearly all revolves around the idea of stripping down and rubbing one's body against the bark, in hope of being "blessed". The most famous of these are called "Rashers", although they prefer to call themselves "Huggers".