The Reading

‘Ow ‘bout a readin’ from your ol’ pal Samedi. Le’say we cast de bones ‘n’ see wha’ de future ‘olds.

Mmmmmm Death. Ye ‘ave stared into it’s abyss, dauntin’ ‘n’ eternal, but ye must d’moar dan stare if ye seek to reclaim de soul ye lost. Pulled three ways he be, de dark, de light and de sand. All stake claim upon ‘im.
Mmmmm De Tower. Calamity! Woe befall you who’s light blinded me so, the ancients infect your very bein’. Corruptin’, befoulin’…Darkening. Faded is yer light now, threatening to go out, see ye now I do, standin’ apart from a Lady. She reaches out as unseen hands of dose long forgotten drag you into de depths.
Mmmmm De Sun. Yer horns will grow long, yer fur…Grey. ‘N’ markings of dose who have seen conflict an’ come out de udder side. Yer sense o’ self be challenged. A forked road, each path rugged an’ dark, no easy path fer you. A Rock heralds de juncture but fades from view as de path be chosen. Who will ye be… Leader, companion, tyrant…Divine? Samedi be watchin’ ‘dis one most carefully.
In threes dey come, these readings of mine, a joy to some if dey toe de line.
A warnin’ I’ll give ye, for the road ahead, best make some friends, or you’ll sink like lead.