The wind whines as it wends through the broken masonry, the sound plaintive and grating, wisps of gray mist fluttering in its grasp, though it does not ruffle the hair nor stir the cloak worn by the lone armored poodle standing at the gazebo's center.

Elise gazes out across the mists as the wind blows. Though the breeze does not reach her, she moves to pull up the hood of her cloak, the sound of the wind whistling through the masonry enough to cause a reaction in the poodle.

The snow-white poodle shifts her gaze to the pathways beyond as if just noticing their existence. She passes her eyes over them one by one, turning until she at last rests her eyes upon a familiar pathway. With a faint nod, a gesture resolute, she walks forward toward the path.

As she passes through the archway, the scene shifts. Rather than setting foot on the road, the poodle finds herself standing on a verdant mountainside.

The Gallee stops as the mountainside comes into focus. It's a place she remembers from the not so distant past, yet, she finds trouble with determining just when she was last here. Letting the thought slip into another, she heads forward again, now toward the buildings and rides set before her. A frown crosses her face as she ponders more deeply, recalling a tinge of something unpleasant.

At the ticket window to a nearby theatre, an Eeee male lounges, wearing a flat-brimmed hat and holding a cane. He watches the poodle with indolent attention, through eyes half-lidded, his stance nonchalant.

The armored poodle alters her course so that she now walks directly toward the man. When she nears him she lifts a hand to get his attention. "Excuse me, I would stir your rest that I might have a question answered," she tells him.

The man straightens up, tilting back the brim of his hat before he folds his hands over the curve of his cane. "Certainly, m'lady, he replies. "And what would yer ladyship's query be?" Although his words are innocent enough, there's a certain insolence in his manner and tone.

The poodle's eye narrow ever so slightly. "I wish to know," she gestures off toward the mountain top, "how one reaches Paradise."

The Eeee plants his cane against the ground and leans forward, studying the poodle carefully. "Is that really what you wish to know, now, little lady?"

Elise lowers her head slightly so her face becomes shaded by her cloak. She peers at the man from this angle, eyes shadowed. "Indeed," she answers.

A toss of his head flips the brim of his hat down to shadow his own eyes, and the bat smiles, showing white fangs. "Paradise lies just up the mountainside, my lady, and anyone can reach it, if they're skilled enough, and stubborn enough. Play the right games, win the right prizes, and your ticket's assured. But remember," he lifts one hand and waggles a finger in front of her face admonishingly, "you have to play by the rules."

"Very well then. I shall abide by your rules," says the Gallee. She turns her head to regard the various games and buildings spread out before her before glancing back toward the man. "Your time is appreciated, Eeee."

The barker makes no reply. As the Gallee scans the expanse before her, she notices an Eeee woman watching her in turn. This Eeee wears flamboyant colors, with bangle bracelets draped from her wrists, gold and silver chains about her neck, and gold earrings that chime against each other as she shifts her head, dangling from her large ears. When she catches the poodle's gaze, she smiles in a friendly fashion.

Leaving the barker to his booth, Elise begins again, approaching the woman who has cast her a friendly smile, and to this woman she inclines her head in greeting. "A lovely carnival, is it not?" she inquires the woman in a pleasant tone.

The woman rises gracefully from her seat on one of two elegant cafe chairs before a small wooden table, and dips as she drops a curtsey to the woman. "It's always lovely here at the Park, my lady," she replies. "We scarcely think of it as a carnival. A carnival is so … so … " She gropes for words.

"Fleeting? For carnivals do in time depart … Or perhaps you were thinking of 'inappropriate'?" The Templar stops a few steps from the woman and folds her hands behind her back, regarding the woman from under her hood.

The bat beams at the poodle. "Both," she answers with some relief. "Not the sort of place where one would want to stay for long." The woman pushes open the door to the shop beside her, then glances over her shoulder to the Templar. "Would you like to come inside?"

Elise lifts her head and inspects the building for a moment, searching for a sign or some other identifier. "That which is below us is a carnival, truly. But I am curious … does this park intend to exist for a lengthy period of time? And what is it exactly you do here?"

The woman casts another fleeting smile over her shoulder. "Why, whatever we like," she replies. "What else would one do in the realm of pleasure?" She steps inside, leaving the door open behind her. The shop bears no signs; its facade is attractively adorned by carvings, while lace curtains veil the large windows that look into it. Something about it suggests a seer's abode, however.

"Of course." The snow-white poodle gives the building onefinal look over and then makes her way on inside. When she passes through the doorway she lifts her hands to pull back the hood from her face.

Within, rather than the shop the poodle might have expected, is a large, luxuriously appointed room, featuring zolk-covered sofas and chairs, low coffee tables, and a pair of sturdy desks. A counter at the rear of the room segregates an unseen back room from this public area. Incongruous as it is, the setting also seems familiar.

Once inside, the poodle remains by the door. She folds her arms across her chest and takes a moment to observe the room with a slightly puzzled expression. "A lavish room, certainly. Fitting for the Park."

"I am glad you approve, my lady," a voice answers her. The Gallee turns to see her hostess take a great crystal ball down from the counter, then the Eeee starts towards her with the object cradled in her arms. "Are you ready, my lady?" she inquires.

"Pardon me, but I am afraid I am not so greatly versed in the mystic arts as some. Though I know of enough tales and references to know what one might do with such a lofty ball of crystal as you hold there. Still, what is it you intend to do?" asks the poodle. After unfolding her arms Elise makes her way over to the woman as she awaits an answer.

The woman smiles as her visitor finishes her lengthy query. "Why, predict the future," she replies. "Isn't that what you came here for?" As she sets the crystal ball onto a desk before Elise, it transforms into a book bound in sky-blue leather with silver trim, and the hands which unfold the book are those of a male Rottweiler.

The poodle woman sweeps her cloak back so that she is free of it. She places her hands upon the desk on either side of the crystal-turned-book and looks at it intently. "Why I am here? Well … yes, why not. Come, seer, show me what you find in the future."

The book opens to the image of a magnificent black poodle arrayed in Temple armor, fighting hard against a Naga enemy. "Ah," the Rottweiler murmurs, gesturing to the image, "quite the form, quite the figure, a most suitable match for you, wouldn't you think? And yet… "

Elise frowns slightly. Though unsure, a nagging feeling offers her a few possibilities as to what "and yet" just might be.

"… what will the children look like?" He turns the page, and the next image is of Elise cradling an infant to her breast, while a black poodle rests one arm affectionately across her shoulders. The perspective in the image shifts, and the face of the infant is superimposed with that of an ink sketch of a poodle whose features are marred by blotches of black fur.

The white poodle Templar's frown only increases with this peek at what might be. She moves to speak but quickly decides against it, not wishing to offer the truth in this situation, preferring to only listen – at least for the time being, anyway.

"Or maybe… " The image of the infant's face blurs, then resolves into the likeness of an adorable poodle pup whose black features are graced by a perfectly symmetrical four-pointed silver star on its forehead, while silvery locks of hair tumble back from its head. "The future is so hard to be sure of," the Rottweiler murmurs. "But moreover… ," he looks to Elise, "is this the match you want?"

Elise lifts her gaze so that she looks at the Rottweiler directly. "Perhaps not. Perhaps there is another, or others, that I would prefer to this one. What do you see, seer? Do they reflect in your pages? Does the future hold not a chapter for them?"

The Rottweiler tilts his head at Elise's questions, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Maybe m'lady should look for herself," he suggests, lifting his hands away from the book. "Is this not, after all, about what you want?"

The white poodle reaches for the book hesitantly. Her fingers barely touch the ends of it for a moment, her arm hovering there as she regards the text before her. She shifts her gaze away from it as if afraid to look further but soon her eyes are again upon it. The text is pulled forward and she nods slightly. "Perhaps I should see for myself … "

The leather cover of the volume is soft beneath the Gallee's hands, with smooth indentations where the silver trim has been inlaid. Her fingers tremble for a moment as she turns the page, revealing the image of an Eeee figure with intensely green eyes, almost luminous upon the page. One of his hands reaches for the token of some game laid out before him. At the bottom of the sheet, black lines waver in the form of letters.

Forgetting for a moment the seer's presence, Elise stares at the picture. Surprise is apparent in her widening eyes. "This is unacceptable," she protests with air of disbelief, though her tone gives no strength to her words, as if she argues against it simply that it might be said. Still her eyes wander and she begins reading the lettering upon the page.

The man looking over her shoulder shakes his head at the image revealed, tsking sadly. "What of the children then?" he murmurs in rebuke. The letters captioning the picture waver and shift, making Elise's eyes water as she tries to read them but finds herself unable to bring them into focus.

"And to think I thought to condemn her for what she chose … " The Gallee woman closes her eyes, her hand sliding from the pages and reaching for the end of the volume. "… my own weakness, did it alter my decision? Things that rightfully should not be yet … I … " Her hand grasps the edge of the book and folds it closed.