(300) Sirka the Fortune Teller: Ah yes, I SEE you, wanderer of fates, seeker of truths. No need to be timid now, come closer… I can sense your aura tingling, the threads on the tapestry of your fate are weaving towards something… but what?
(301) Sirka the Fortune Teller: Ah, I see it now… only the rattle of fresh bones can whisper the truths of your destiny. Bones, mysterious stranger - I must hear the bones!
What's this festival about? → (302)
I don't have bones for you. → (0)
(306) Sirka the Fortune Teller: Yes, yes, bonesss! Oooooh, let old Sirka hear them SING!*The deranged old lady ties the bones you gave her to a string and rattles them around while listening to them intently.*
(303) Sirka the Fortune Teller: So few, oh so few…! Yet still they rattle! Oooh, let old Sirka hear them rattle!*The deranged old lady ties the bones you gave her to a string and rattles them around while listening to them intently.*
(302) Sirka the Fortune Teller: Your destiny has brought you to the harvest festival, traveler… Intensely celebrated in ages past… So it will be again… Such are the fickle ways of time. But the bones, stranger - I must hear the bones!
I don't have bones for you. → (0)
(307) Sirka the Fortune Teller: So loud, so loud the bones sing! Oh it's such bliss, their truth is pure bliss I tell you! And the word they scream at me, louder and louder, there is but one word… and it is DEATH!
(304) Sirka the Fortune Teller: So quiet, so quiet, for the bones are few… yet I hear them… they whisper but one word, over and over… it is DEATH…
(308) Sirka the Fortune Teller: *You suppose that makes sense, you've been cursed by undeath after all. Then again the bones alone represent death. Either way, you feel a modicum of enlightenment.*
(305) Sirka the Fortune Teller: *You suppose that makes sense, you've been cursed by undeath after all. Then again the bones alone represent death. Either way, you feel a modicum of enlightenment.*
