The DEATH of Numismus By Speak the Sky

Speak the Sky's Neocities Page

Instruments: 20 Coins, Tarot Cards, 1d6

Game Description 

You are NUMISMUS, god of coin and wealth and you are dying. The accumulation of your wealth lies in your Cthonian Vault and the aspects of your divninity, your facets, are spread through out the land. Adventurers and theives will seek to rob you, but, occasionaly you grant motals patronage and miracules. This will not be enough to keep you from dying.

The DEATH of Numismus is a Wretched and Alone game that uses tarot cards as prompts and coins instead of a block tower.

Game Content Warnings 

These are content warnings that are from the game prompts and are present in all playthroughs.

Playthrough Content Warnings 

These are content warnings specific to this playthrough only.

Game Playthrough

Word Count: 7,258     Played: Feb 26-March 6?, 2021

Numismus - God of Coin, Decider of Value, Hierarchy, and Accumulation 


Why are you dying? Mortals have been replacing the gold standard, debit and credit are replacing actual accumulation, someone is rearranging things too much, and the humans have begun to place their own value in things that were once worthless. 


Divine Musings of the God Numismus leading to their eventual Demise. 

Age 1 


Roll: 2 


Card: Queen of Cups 

The facet “Patron of Laborers” is a statue in a marketplace that houses a shrine dedicated to you which is home to a group of ascetic warriors who keep the statue and marketplace clean for no pay. 

    Toss 3: 2 Head, 1 Tail, You lose this facet 

A/N: I forgot the Major Arcana cards for this draw.


Card: 8 of Cups 

Your facet “The Glimmer of the Tomb’ is locked in the lowest level of the Training Tomb of the Academy of Dungeon Sciences, guarded by staff. 

    Toss 1: 1 Head 

Card: Temperance Upright: Economy, Purpose, Patience, 

Card: Strength Upright: Self Control, energy, courage

A/N: I forgot the third card for this draw

I looked upon one of my many markets today and felt the coins dance freely from palm to bag to vault. My facet, the Patron of Labourers, which entitles all who work to their allotted amount of coin, under my Decision, rests in unease in an alcove in a temple in Errentol. One of the other Deciders, for I have not discovered who, has convinced the warriors of the temple that they have no need for mortal comforts and have forgone all to which their labour entails. 

They tarnish my aspect each time they clean it with unpaid hands. They are convinced that they do this out of piety, but all I see is exploitation. Each day they rub away my divinity, each night it crumbles until I feel it completely vanished from myself. My decision is washed clean from the mortals and my facet is stolen from me in misconceived devotion. How soon will their country fall to an economy of exploited labour? Will they ever truly know the value of their work? 

To the North of the Valley Island, home of The Dungeon, in the city of Fal’terek, a small Academy dedicated to understanding it’s mysteries houses my aspect, “The Glimmer of the Tomb.” It is a treasure that will adorn my grave when I am no longer of this world. I Decided long ago the shape and aspect of my final resting place and crafted a fine funeral mask of gold for myself. It rests facing a hall of mirrors, each carved with the concentric circles to honor my beginning from Existence itself. 

This mask will not move from its place until my final day. I sense each thief that has tried and has become swallowed by Existence in their attempts to steal it. Each of their presence fills the void and the world becomes more. I will wait patiently until my time, safe in the knowledge that it is safe. 

Age 2


Roll: 4 


Card: 5 of Swords:

Pirates invade your treasure chamber

   Toss 1: 1 Tails

Card: Judgement Reversed: Rejection Ignorance Doubt 

Card: The Sun Reversed: Delusion Despair Emptiness 

Card: Death: Stagnation, Retreat, Certainty 


Card: 8 of Pentacles:

A Rag-and-Bone scavenger get one of your coins and seeks your advice

Card: The Chariot Triumph, Vengeance, Control 

Card: The Moon Reversed instability, confusion, release 

Card: The Empress action, ignorance, doubt, 


Card: 6 of Pentacles:  

A burglar uses one of your coins to call on you for help

Card: The Wheel of Fortune: destiny, lucky, calamity 

Card: The Devil: Violence, death, destiny 

Card: Justice: Equity, fairness, law


Card: King of Pentacles:

Your Bond to the Firmament(Existence, Reality etc.) comes under attack. It is guarded by Auriurges, magic users who command molten gold, in the heart of a volcano 

   Toss 5: 3 Tails, 2 Heads

Card: The Hanged Man Reversed the crowd, indecision, pain 

Card: The Star: hope, loss, abandonment, 

Card: The Magician: skill subtlety, loss, will 

Kings: 1/4  

Deep in one of my vaults, on an island in the Respit Sea a fleet of pirate ships, bound from Cricenal, set their anchors down and depart deep inside. I felt them crawl around its passages like ants and burrow deeper and deeper until they found my treasures. They have rejected my blessings and sought out those of [Mother Mountain] for guidance and Hidden-Deep-in-Deception-and-Obscuration to seek what is mine. This is but one of my vaults but my coins are plundered from deep whinin and brought to the light where they shine in a glory that is no longer mine. The cave is a deep cavity of emptiness and I feel its absence more and more with each passing age.  I pulled back my divinity from it’s walls and severed it like a dead limb. 

Through the land of Memank my coins are spread far and wide. The cave and the vault are dead but through each coin I feel the heat of the palms that spend them. I was unknown to most in this land except for one: a small rag-and-bone woman, young in age, but old in life and trials. She prayed to me upon a heap of scraps and filth with a curse on her lips and a finger to sky. I answered her through the taste of metal on her tongue and the shine on her heap. She collected metals and through them built an iron scrapyard free from rust and filth. 

A burglar gripped one of my stolen coins as entered the house of a Lord of the Granite Isles. They sought to plunder what they have not earned and prayed to one who has been robbed for assistance. The coin seared white-hot, burning my emblem into their flesh. The lights of the house flickered on one by one as the scream filled the once dark halls. The burglar heard the sirens of the law and burst through the doors of the house. They sought egress but found themselves at the end of both a shotgun and their life. 

Worst through this age I have lost my heart. The Dying God visited me to tell me with mocking grins upon its many faces. Many mortals seek its own hearts for immortality and receive their divine punishment  upon failure but it has had the pleasure to deliver the news of my own heart’s demise. 

I would not believe him even though the pain increased throughout my being and the sense of an unknown loss had grabbed me from behind. Down deep in the volcano I went, passed the rivers of gold veins through the stone, passed the geodes and crystals higher than the towers of the Whistling Valley, and deep to the heart of my Auriurges chambers. I found them slaughtered, each with a terrible arrow in their chest and the stench of centuries-old death in the air. 

I sought the Wight and though I knew it had no knowledge of why it had been ordered I tore into it for answers. It had none and I told it a story of a long dead Queen of Neahr, beloved by her people, hated by her family, and erased from her own history. The Wight crumbled to dust before me, finally at peace with the knowledge of who she was. 

Age 3


Roll: 1


Card: Ace of Pentacles

A merchant takes their pay for selling faulty linen to a noble house. They muse on how to swindle someone else.

Card: The Moon: Fear, Mistakes, Completion

Card: Death: Focus Ending Transformation,

Card: Judgment Reverse: Rejection Ignorance, Doubt 

My coin was spent in good faith from the hands of a noble house in Greystone to the palm of a cheat with a lopsided grin. I followed them through the alleyways back to their den as they strode along with a jolly pace they did not earn. 

They reached their companions, all equals in deception and mirth, jingled the coin purse and dropped it onto the table with a laugh. For weeks they laughed and spent the coins, unaware their deception had been discovered. 

They began to see the shadows following them, to hear dark whispers, and see movement in their home at night. My coins pulsed each night like my dead heart and the swindler knew they had been marked. 

No one believed them; no one would help them, and eventually, all abandoned the swindler as they knew I had set my sights on them. My coin had not been earned and in the dead of night they crawled forth from the purse, glittering like scarabs. The thief didn’t wake until the first one had entered its mouth and crawled its way down.

They choked and clawed but one by one each of my coins filled their stomach until they had become a purse and a puppet of my own. Their insides were gold and they were mine. 

Age 4


Roll: 2


Card: 2 of Cups

The facet “Warden of the Marketplace” is kept in a secret shrine in Mercanthenon 

   Toss 1: Tails

Card: The Star: Hope, Loss, Abandonment

Card: The Magician Reversed: Disgrace, Disquiet 

Card: The Hanged Man : Surrender, Reflection, Sacrifice


Card: 10 of Coin

A beggar is tossed one of your coins, they still haven’t given up on their dreams 

Card: Justice Reversed: Dishonesty, bias, severity

My shrine in Mercanthenon had long been abandoned but it hadn’t been a concern of mine before now. It sat on the edge of the giant's shoulder in a hidden shrine teetering over the edge, waiting for the final push that would plummet it to the ground below. 

Today it finally surrendered to time and took that final push. The building smashed down, over the edge and into the dirt and forest miles below. The sound was barely heard from the residents of the commune but the people below heard the sound for miles and miles. I felt that piece of me smash and ripple outwards before dissipating completely. 

A beggar held a lone coin of mine so tightly in her fist the imprints of my divinity remained in her palm until morning. She traced them around and around again in a grotesque prayer as she cursed my name, disowning all forms of honest work. She needed to feed herself, clothe herself and she knew no honest work would keep her alive. She murdered the next noble she saw, took their clothes, their work, and fled, far from the city. She arrived in the Marbled City of Cricenal, killed another then fled to Errentol, then Greystone, then far to the east in Malhal where she repeated her cycle until she became as famous as she had always dreamed.

Age 5


Roll: 3 


Card: 9 of Wands

You invoke the Curse of Execution, showing displeasure in a horrible and irreversible way 


    Card: The Sun: Success, Vitality, Achievement 


Card: 9 of Cups

The Facit “Patron of Piracy” is on an artificial island grave of the Pirate Shih Yang, surrounded by whirlpools and bone-hungry mermaids. 

   Toss 1: Heads (A/N: Due to the interpretation of the Major Arcana I decided this will count as a defeat) 

Card: The Fool Reversed: Negligence, apathy, absence 

Card: The Hanged Man: Surrender Reflection Sacrifice 

Card: The Chariot Reversed Discipline, Dispute, Defeat 


Card: Queen of Pentacles 

A laborer is paid for sweeping one of the temple floors and goes to a market that worships you. Everything is too expensive. 

    Card: The Tower : Misery Adversity, Ruin 

Alone on a single island, one made by the hands of mortals, lies the bones of the pirate Shih Yang. Her empire reached far and wide, covering the Respit Sea down to the obstructed Mesa Island.  Each day as the waves crash against the shore they took from the island, and with it my facet. 

Her empire collapsed upon her death, divided and reduced to petty fights amongst the crews. They are all but gone now, and none would dare to fly her flag. I saw as it collapsed under the waves for a final time and felt the sharp teeth of the bone eaters. They consume her and with it my divinity. 


A single coin was gently handed to a laborer from a priest with kind eyes but a greedy smile. They nodded solemnly and dismissed the laborer out into the streets of Teneneron, the City in Night. The laborer’s calloused hands fiddled with the coin, passing it between hand to hand and stroked my holy sigil. 

I could see the work they had done for my temple: floors swept, windows washed, and other countless meager tasks befitting the payment. 

They padded down the streets lit by torches that barely kept away the blotchy darkness. They were hungry, as was their family back home in their woodworm rotted hovel, and they sought the market for food. They prayed to me as they passed under the wrought iron sign to the square and look closely around at all the stalls. Under the Candle Lattice they see the prices, which increased at an almost daily rate, have finally outbid their meager wage.

They place the coin in their mouth and pray again to me, hoping the taste of metal is a sign of my presence. I have no need of people who want more than they earn and my city will have no need of rabble. 


Through each Age  I felt my divinity being stripped from me; consumed by mortals, stolen, and worn away into nothing. I knew that I was dying. My power of mortals and even my own kind is diminishing and in return they smiled and mocked with knowing eyes. 

The only thing that grew in me was my rage. My facets, once plenty, were dwindled down into  a number I could count and I knew that I needed to create more. I took in my hands the sum of my vault in the mountains and inlaid a compulsion. A blessing, or curse to the ignorant, would execute upon having received my coin. To them it would appear as hunger, a need to consume the vastness of wealth and value within their reach. 

I will rebuild my facets as mortals and in my death they will be my eidolons. 

Age 6 


Roll: 4


Card: Ace of Swords

A thief named Peppertongue steals a coin

   Toss 1: Tails

Card: The Emperor Reversed: Benevolence, immaturity, aid

Card: Judgment Reversed: Rejection, ignorance doubt

Card: Devil Reversed: weakness, murder, pettiness


Card: Knight of Pentacles

A courier is paid in your coins for transporting treasure

Card: The Hierophant Reversed: freedom, concord, weakness 


Card: 8 of Wands

The Blessing of Cornucopia, a vessel that provides the receiver with a never ending supply of what they need the most when they receive it 

The Hanged Man: Surrender, reflection, sacrifice 


Card: Jack of Cups

Facet: Patron of Debauchery, kept in a satyr-grove of Thulis, a festival god, you bribed with an endless cornucopia of ale and party stuff 

   Toss 2: 1 Tails,  1 Head

Card: The Moon Reversed: Instability, Confusion, Release

Card: The Devil: mean, Weaknes, Murder, Pettiness 

Card: The Magician Reversed: Medicine, Disgrace, Disquiet 

On the back of a horse, the guard tossed a sack of coins, taken from the safe in the back of the cart, to the courier.  The journey had been long and hard; three mercenaries had died at the hands of bandits and four more lay wounded on the ground next to them. 

The guard paid each of them in turn before nodding and taking the haul through the gates of one of Errentol’s castles. 

The courier sat down hard in the dirt, poured all of my coins onto the dirt, and counted them by throwing them one by one into the face of the wounded man next to them. When they had paid their debt in full they scooped up the rest from the dirt and turned their back and departed. 


I watched as the thief, Peppertongue, weaved xer way through the garden of a noble estate in Valley City. Xe was too young to be jaded by the monotony of a secure life but had still rejected it all the same. Xe slipped passed guard after guard and through a window on the ground floor. 

Xe snuck further and further down to the vault, pausing each time to mock and scribble on each portrait of the owners xe passed. Xe spent hours picking the lock but eventually broke through into the hoard of coins and jewels in the safe. Xer pockets were filled to the brim but xe hadn’t put a single dent into the wealth of the owners. 

Skill is to be admired but not all are to be rewarded and the guards would have never known if not for the taste of metal in their mouths and divine gleam on their armor. 

Peppertongue did not survive the night but the guards, greedy themselves, took half of what wasn’t noticed. 


Thulis, Consequence and Reward Decider, laughed directly to my face when I told him my facet had been destroyed. I had paid them a blessing to their field, an endless Cornucopia of delight, for their beloved satyrs and it had been destroyed. 

They continued to laugh and grin with hollow eyes and a darkness inside of them. They leaned in close and whispered, “Did you not consider the consequences?”

Age 7 


Roll: 5


Card: Card: 3 of Cup

Facet: Patron of Mercenaries is kept in the pay-master of the Forbidden Company, a “lost” mercenary group. Legend says they’ll return to fight for me for the right price

   Toss 1: Heads

Card: The Hermit Reversed: Disguise, isolation, caution

Card: Temperance Reversed: healing, cults, disloyalty

Card: Wheel of Fortune Reversed: resistance abundance, stasis


Card: King of Wands

Your followers start different sects and begin a bloody battle with most survivors going to ground and your influence on the wane.

Card: The Tower: Misery, adversity, ruin


Card: 10 of Wands

You display the Sign of Tarnished Omens, letting your enemies know that everything good will become bad

Card: The Fool Reversed:Negligence, apathy, absence


Card: Ace of Wands

You display the Sign of Answered Prayers, letting worshippers know you have heard their cries for help and will respond eventually

Card: Death Reversed:Stagnation, retreat, certainty


Card: 10 of Cups

Facet: Bloodshed’s Lure is safe in the Thieves’ Guild beneath the Imperial Capital of Lirom

   Toss 1: Heads

Card: The Lovers:Attraction, success, love

Card: The Sun: Success, vitality, achievement

Card: The Hierophant: Mercy, inspiration, aid


My mortal facets became known to my followers and each held in their hearts an interpretation. Some claimed that those who were blessed were the chosen leaders, others claimed that those in power should receive the blessing instead. They argued, debated, and screeched until one, seeking the blessing himself, hunted down a facet, cut them open to consume my blessing and the body in its entirety, for what is more valuable than a mortal chosen by a god? 

The schism was instant and both sides called to me in desperation and revolusion. I showed them my presence in their mouths and the gleam of their metals but no more than this. They knew that I was listening and had heard them but not that I thought their petty arguments were a distraction. I am not beholden to Life as I am to Existence; I and every other Decider has spit in her face before and I will not hesitate to do it again. Mortals are a means to an end and I will make sure my end never truly comes. 

I told both sides of a facet, stolen from me by thieves in the night and held hostage in their headquarters. Deep in Lirom, the Bloodshed’s Lure lies in a chest; it is a fitting name for fighting amongst my groups. They knew that I was approaching for the taint of rust encrusted their weapons, armor, and coin. Perhaps it was a mistake to let them know, but their defenses were not what was to save them. 

The Forbidden Company, holder of one of my own facets and a known ally, was called by one side. They offered the gold-strewn blood of a Mortal Facet, as payment and hired them to take back what was stolen from me. The Company, large in numbers and highly skilled, sent their members to the Thieves. It was a mistake, for even though they held my facet, they found that both themselves and the Thieves lay more loyal to Hidden-Deep-in-Deception-and-Obscuration.  

The Company showed mercy to a brotherhood, and eroded the Bloodshed Lure with clemency, and Patron of Mercenaries by refusing the payment. 

In this Age  I have lost the majority of my following, and two facets of myself over petty mortal grievances.

Age 8 


Roll: 2


Card: King of Swords:

The Ancient Dragon Vernal Gorebride awoke and with the magic of season and dream she attempted to take your gold as hers.

   Toss 5: 3T 2H

Card: The Lovers Reversed:disunity, failure, narcissism

Card: Justice Reversed: dishonesty, bias, severity

Card: The Fool Reversed: negligence, apathy, absence


Card: 4 of Cups

Facet: Weight of the Tyrant’s Silken Glove, inside the heart of a compromised revolutionary, Augur Flechs, who takes bribes from the tyrant they threatened to overthrow and is guarded by your treasure cultists.

   Toss 1: Heads

Card: The Devil Reversed: weakness murder, pettiness

Card: The Hierophant: mercy, inspiration, aid

Card: The Tower: Misery, adversity, ruin


A beast Decided upon long ago from the depths of The Dreaming God’s mind had finally awoken from her own slumber. Her god is dead and in her slumber I had claimed her as mine--a memento mori. 

I thought that she would sleep forever as long as the bones were aligned as -A- had placed them. But when they called to the fisherman in the storm and the lighthouse keeper spilled his blood they misaligned enough for the Dragon Vernal Gorebride to reclaim her consciousness. 

She awoke deep in the earth, surrounded by treasures that were not yet hers but ones she felt she owned. 

Her form holds as true in existence as it does in dreams and she wove her way deep into the nightmares of my Auriurges. They clawed at their eyes, gnashed their teeth, and knew in sleep she would come for them. Each stood at all waking hours until a greater sleep claimed them and their bodies littered my halls. 


The tyrant held between his fingers a ring of plain iron before flicking it off the balcony into the labyrinth below. 

“If they find it, they are free,” he laughed to Augur Flechs who stood beside him. 

The two watched below as a woman wandered endlessly through a corridor, twisted, unyielding and grew each day with a darkness that to look into was to see Nothing. 

My guards, in gleaming golden armor, flanked the two of them. The tyrant sat on a throne of gold in the finest silks and furs with a rusted crown upon his brow. He paid me well to have my guards serve him, but I, in turn, showed him I knew in darkness he sought ways to overthrow me. 

The tyrant didn’t take his eyes away from the labyrinth as he listened to Flechs inform him of the revolutionaries’ plans. His smile was crooked as he told her how to dispose of them and gave her a single, gold embroidered silken glove as payment. 

She bowed and was escorted into the night, and in the darkness, she brought it to her lips and consumed it. 

Age 9 


Roll: 6


Card: 6 of Cups

Facet: “Purchaser of SeToss 1: Tailscrecy” is in a bird’s egg in a box under a tree (A/N: the rest of this prompt is a little silly, so I’m going to ignore it in favor of the Sempiternal Tree)

Card: The Lovers Reversed:disunity, failure, narcissism

Card: Justice Reversed: dishonesty, bias, severity

Card: The Fool Reversed: negligence, apathy, absence


Card: 6 of Swords

A Mining Expedition of dwarves breaks through the walls of the Vault. They remember a debt you owe them, and never paid them.

   Toss 1: Heads

Card: The Fool ReversedNegligence, apathy, absence

Card: The Moon Reversed instability, confusion, release

Card: The Emperor Reversed benevolence, immaturity, aid


Card: 4 of Swords

An “adventuring party” breaks into the vault and start killing people.

   Toss 1: Tails

Card: The Devil ReversedWeakness, murder, pettiness

Card: The High Priestess Reversed passion, glibness, conviction

Card: The Star: Hope, loss, abandonment


Card: 3 of Wands

Impose the Curse of Bad Luck, which will influence their circumstances to turn against them until removed by divine intervention

Card: Death: focus, endings, transformation


Card: Jack of Pentacles

A priest of another god is paid an indulgence to forgive a sin against that god, but before they spend their coin they spill the secret to another priest

Card: The Chariot:triumph, vengeance, control


Card: 4 of Wands

Blessing of Silver-Tongue, gives the recipient a way with words in barter and deal-making

Card: Strength Reversed: abuse, disgrace, enervation

An entrance to my vault laid deep in the pits of the catacombs of Squ’hev, guarded by both the ghosts, traps, and the remembrance of the Fall. Since the release of the Winds, no other Decider has ventured to lay claim to it besides myself. 

Still, those that call themselves “adventurers” scale the depths, convinced by legend that there is still worth below the fallen city. I had underestimated the guile of mortals and saw one such team, constructed of those fit to breach the challenges: a priest to quell the ghosts, a member of the wretched Thieves Guild, a master dungeoneer from the City of Fal’terek, a warrior free from the Company. How they came to be was clouded by Nos’goth and I suspect her interest in my vault as well. 

They were cunning and knew the route too well for mere explorers. They knew the patrols of my guards, their numbers and their secrets, and one by one brutally dispatched each and every one of them before lining their pockets with my gold. 


Within the Mother Mountain, home of the dwarves, they sent another expedition into the deep. This time they knew to avoid the Shamblers and the animated bodies and dig deep around them to mine for their stoneworks. 

Their axes broke free through a wall into the deepest part of my vault and felt entitled to its contents for a debt they thought I owed. Though it is true they have provided my temples holy works of stone and metals, these were offerings to me and not ones that need reparations. 

In their greed these Dwarves have neglected what they feared the most from the Mountain and down the halls they hear it chittering and crawling. The Deep had come to claim them for I had offered these mortals to Existence itself and It lovingly accepted. 


High Altar Bryanna had always been able to sooth the woes and fears of the other priests with her words but she had found that Altar Lashawnda was more hesitant than most. 

High Altar Bryanna soothed her and spoke soft wisdom, coaxing out the truth as Altar Lashawnda fiddled with the purse on her belt. Lashawnda had received an indulgence, she admitted, from a priest of Nos’goth, Altar Annuka, one who had blessed a group of adventurers. 

She told the High Altar of the deaths in the catacombs and the burglary of my vault and how she was paid in the stolen money. She emptied out the purse into her hands and presented each of my coins to the High Altar. 

“Spend them,” High Altar Bryanna advised her, “it is what Numismus would will.” 

And as each coin passed from Altar Lashawnda to merchants she found herself able to barter and to spend more easily than before until she found herself with the last coin in the pile. This one she kept for herself in the pit of her stomach. 


High Altar Bryanna had also become accustomed to the fights between the Deciders. She knew that my hand moved her altars more than the Sovereign Arbitrator themselves, for whom she had dedicated her life. 

The indulgences would never stop and through her own will she decided to end them. Far from home she traveled, deep to the southern ocean in the guise of a pilgrimage. She had been to the Sempiternal Tree as all High Altars had, anointed it with oil as her home in Squ’hev had taught, and learned of the facets of Godhood that lie beneath, deep in the roots. 

She twisted her body through the roots, deeper and deeper underground through passages lit only with torches and mirrors until she found where it was kept. 

Buried in a shallow pit, she uncovered it with her hands and removed the small wooden box from the earth. Inside were three milk-white birds eggs which she broke with cold precision before returning it to ground. 

She tasted it for the first time but she knew for the rest of her life the only taste on her tongue would be the bloody tang of metal. As she passed through the corridors to the surface the frames of the mirrors glinted brighter but showed only Darkness in their reflection. 

It would start small, a delay for a boat, a broken shoe, and then escalate for the rest of her life. It was when her only child died from a loose roof shingle that she gave in and let the Nothing claim her too.

Age 10 


Roll: 3


Card: 3 of Swords

A necromancer kills the guards and uses their corpses to fight through the vault, they use the body of another adventure along the way

   Toss 1: Tails

Card: The World reversed: inertia, haste, closure

Card: The Magician Reversed: medicine, disgrace, disquiet

Card: Judgment Reversed: Rejection, ignorance, doubt


Card: 8 of Swords

Cultists of the Deep Maw of the Sunken Black Under-Sky infiltrate the Vault to seek gold for a dental filling

   Toss 1: Heads

Card: The High Priestess: Secrets, foresight, science

Card: Strength Reversed: abuse, disgrace, enervation

Card: The Chariot Reversed: discipline, dispute, defeat


Card: 4 of Pentacles

A grave digger steals a coin that a nobel tossed into the nameless mass grave, whispers of the unquiet dead worm their way through the mass of bodies and into the air

Card: The Star: arrogance, impotence, void

He saw, down in the deep pit, the offering of coins from the nobles able in their wealth to discard a weeks worth of food to those who will no longer need it. The rough wood of the shovel dug blisters into his hands and he stared, consumed at the shiny glint of the metal until the sun dipped over the walls. 

With his breath in the air and a shadow upon his skin he descended into the pit of the nameless bodies. He reached delicately over to my coin and removed it from uptop a woman’s cheek. He had not noticed the thick fog of darkness enveloping him until he could see nothing but his own breath. 

The cold clung to him like spider’s silk and he felt it flow through him like ice in his veins. He reached out but grasped at nothing but the smoke of darkness. He then felt the hands creep along his skin, each sucking the heat from his body and he heard nothing but his own heartbeat as he tried to scream. 

And then in darkness, a chorus, each word and sentence incomprehensible, screaming, pleading, crying and his voice too joined the Labyrinth’s Shadow. 


Deep Maw of the Sunken Black Under-Sky sleeps deep below the city of Memank, guarded each day by the many cultists that worship it. It is a vast and spiraling cave, filled with jagged teeth, pools of yellow bile, and creatures that will never see the light of day. 

Those that worship do so by maintenance to the caves and affectionately call themselves “the Dentists.” They believe that one day Memank will be swallowed whole if they do not care for the beast. It is nothing more than a disgrace to Reality by the Dreaming God’s delusions that has yet to be eradicated.  

These Dentists, having studied the teeth for centuries knew of new ways to heal and protect the teeth within. They sought to raid my vault for gold to protect what they called enamel. It was a pathetic attempt with inexperienced priests. They thought their victory assured through the faith of their monstrosity but were slaughtered without mercy. 

Through the same tunnels a necromancer slinked along behind the Dentists. Ze had learned of their plan, knew of their eventual defeat, and followed in turn. Ze had dedicated zemself to Life itself and she granted zem the bodies of all those slaughtered. En Masse they swarmed through my guards, the corpses unaffected by the gold dripping from their forms and the necromancer zemself standing behind, expressionless but a prideful arrogance in zer heart. 

Ze left with gold-plated corpses, coins in every pocket, and the satisfaction knowing that Life had blessed zem beyond my afflictions.

Age 11 


Roll: 1


Card: Ace of Cups

Facet: Patron of Merchants kept in Banker’s Guildhall in the city of Oarth, protected by guards who worship coin alone

   Toss 1: Tails

Card: Temperance Reversed: Healing Cults, Disloyalty

Card: Strength Reversed: Abuse, disgrace, enervation

Card: The chariot: triumph, vengeance, control

My facet, the patron of merchants, shimmered in endless splendor as the gold crest in the executive meeting room of the Grand Bank of Oarth. There, I am present, as the leader, a small person by the name of T.F. Domine explained to a patient room of both investors, council persons, and other merchants the benefits of removing themselves from the gold standard. 

They gave a proud and long speech belittinging my holy conduits and exaggerating the value of mortal faith in money without the need of outside influence. They speak on how we are no better than my cultists and how they are to decide their own values and their own fate. 

They end their bloated speech by pointing up to the facet and, surrounded by the claps of their constituents, the gold tarnishes in an unholy rust and falls into ashes at their feet.

Age 12 


Roll: 1


Card: 6 of Wands

Blessing of foresight, receiver can know the future in a limited fashion but not change it

Card: Justice Equity, fairness, law

They stood before me now, two as one, as is The Name, a new decider, Arranger and Rearranger, -A-Z-, and held out their hands to me. I took them and they held them tight with a sympathy and tenderness known only from their mortal time. 

They told me that my end was sooner than I knew; they had seen it and they could not, would not, rearrange it. They told me of their time with their daughter, [Mother Mountain], and knew that a pattern is nothing without understanding the connection between them. 

I did not understand why it was they sought a new connection with me when I was soon to be gone. They put their hand upon my cheek and spoke to me.

“It is because you will soon be gone,” their voice was both a whispered chorus in my head and a single voice in my ears. They took my hand and showed me to the world where my coins lay in the hands of a young witch. 

She knelt before a blanket, marked with endless patterns faded, redrawn, and stitched anew. 

-A-Z- told me she seeks knowledge of her future finance and asked me if I will grant it. I laughed at them and told them fortune seeking is their blessing. -A-Z- laughed back at me and told me I, who understands Reality, should know the truth.

I understood in that moment the nature of my death and blessed their chosen mortal with a small foresight to appease them.

Age 13 


Roll: 2


Card: 2 of Swords

A band of elementals worm their way through the elemental barriers of the Vault to retrieve gold for an alchemist

   Toss 1: Tails

Card: Justice Equity, fairness, law

Card: Temperance Reversed healing, cults, disloyalty

Card: The World everyman, inertia, haste, closure


Card: Knight of Wands

You imbue the Power of Golden Touch (midas) to an individual

Card: The Star Hope, loss, abandonment

Along the fairy borders an Alchemist and explorer fine-tuned their work, making bonds with the creatures, documenting the wilds, and growing ever sullen.

They whispered to him each day, telling him of the wonders of the world, worming his way deeper and deeper into his mind. 

These creatures knew they could move against me, but convince one with the powers to do so. They spoke to him of the endless wealth in my vaults and how much joy it will bring him and how unfair it is for a God to hold such power and do nothing with it. 

They whispered lies to him that it is a test and how I want my coin in the world, to be spent, to be earned and to be won. Their poison saturated his mind and in kind he helped them, taking with them a fae of fire, earth, water, and air to use in his heist. 

They pass through my traps and passages with ease, each age having depleted my guards and the loyalty amongst the mortals. They reach the camber, surrounded in my coin and their the fae take both my coins and the life of the alchemist. 

A mortal facet laid starving in the streets of the Marble City of Cricenal; they had eaten themselves out of home, fortune, and grace. 

They sobbed, golden liquid spilling from their eyes, thick like quicksilver, a prayer only half remembered but with more devotion than any parishioner. They knew that they were blessed and begged me for my aid in their worship and I answered them in kind. 

Alone at an Altar by Elena Murphy

Instruments: Deck of Cards, 1d6 

Roll 2: 


Card: 5 of Spades

Spades: Natural things, the world itself

5: A series of random words

Roll: 5 hot and Sharp like a dry desert


Card: 8 of Diamonds

Diamonds: Civilization, money, wealth, society, nations

8: An Image burned into your mind

Roll: 2, Cold and Harsh like a hard freeze

Around them the air stood still and dry. The sounds of the city became muted and distant as around them the sounds of metal clanging grew louder and louder. Each shimmering lamp and metal piece around them grew in brightness until they could no longer see. They gripped at the stone below them and under their fingers it too shined in a golden handprint. They traced fingers around them, leaving golden streaks and fistfuls of rocks became gold became food.

The sounds of the city, returned as once, in disgusting disillusioned discord and through it they knew my presence again. They heard of a dark, deep cave free from the security of mortals, where they must bide their time.

They looked down at their hands, worn away into stubbs, and shaking with a sudden violent freeze. They tasted the cold metal in their mouth, then all around them through every crevice of their body they were in cased in the feeling of cold metal against their flesh. 

They closed their gold-laden eyes tight and saw, more brightly in their mind, at once themself and also me. They returned to the city, weilding a golden army, they took gracefully to their knees and I, as them, still lived. 

They fled at once abandoning the city, their humanity, and themselves. 

Age 14 


Roll: 4


Card: Jack of Wands

You grant the Power of Impossibility by allowing someone to buy almost anything with your coins

Card: The Chariot Triumph, vengeance, control


Card: Five of Cups

   Toss 1: Tails

Facet: Patron of Artists, inside the Palace of No Renown, painting triggered a bloody revolution and hangs guarded by your cultists

Card: The Fool: The Everyman, delirium, folly

Card: The Magician Reversed: Medicine, disgrace, disquiet

Card: The Devil: Violence, murder, pettiness


Card: 7 of Wands

Curse of Stagnancy, weighing down their life and their rivals succeed

Card: The Sun: Success, vitality, achievement


Card: 9 of Swords

   Toss 1: Tails

A Dungeoneer and a thrill-seeking noble break into the vault

Card: Justice: Equity, fairness, law

Card: The World: Completion, travel, return

Card: Death Reversed:Stagnation, retreat, certainty


Coins Remaining: 0 Gameover

A painting of the labyrinth, floor to ceiling, rested in the Palace of No Renown. The tyrant disposed, the traitor-revolutionary beheaded, and the stone walls of the maze shattered under the hands of the people after years of bloody rebellion. 

Together my guards stood flanking the sides of the painting, unaffected by changes of time and power. My coins paid for every stroke and spread my divinity through paint on canvas. Each day the painting grew darker and darker, like an inky fog had corrupted the ink. 

The guards, in turn, felt their heat drain slowly from their bodies and their breath became as ice. They turned to one another when they heard the whispers and saw as the shadow clawed its way through the painted labyrinth and spilled forth like liquid smoke. My guards, brought to their frostbitten knees, fell one by one with a clang to the floor. 

Both the paint and my divinity split and fractured like the surface of a frozen pond before darkening to an unseeable black. It would remain coated in a thin layer of frost, unremovable, and drain the heat from any foolish enough to touch it. 

The artist had claimed no one could compare themselves to their master. But as their painting lay in ruins as did my kindness. Never again would I trust a mortal to create an aspect of my divinity.  

 Never again could they paint something to rival the labyrinth for me or any other Decider. They painted long hours until they found themselves the fool of their peers, each one reaping success in far greater numbers than the labyrinth would ever bring. 


A mortal facet, a noble vast in wealth but strong in appetite, prayed to me. They said that they had found something higher in value than gold, more priceless than diamonds, and through it would become stronger than the prophet in the cave eating scraps. 

There was honesty in his prayer and a confidence that knew would not fail and so I granted to him the power to receive, however impossible, this item beyond imaginable value. 

He took with him the finest dungeoneers, the strongest warriors and any and all who he deemed capable. 

I find him, sitting upon my throne, looking at me with a deep hunger in his gold trickling eyes. His grin is wide and his teeth are stained with the glitter of gold.  He carries with him my blessing, the Power of Impossibility, as he rises to his feet and I know in this instance that I am undone. 

He stands before me, his lips in my ear, a hand on my back and the other clasped in mine and whispers, “How could you think there was anything more valuable than yourself?”

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