Synchronicity

Orphan had arrived in Sacramento a few hours earlier, having been led here by Fate. Well, truth be told, he’d actually decided to come to Sacramento because two days earlier, while eating 4 am breakfast in a dive on the outskirts of Cheyenne, he’d dripped some sausage gravy onto the map he’d been studying while trying to decide where to go next. The bit of gravy had left a greasy splotch right on Sacramento. Orphan hadn’t been able to perceive any clear strand of Fate in this happenstance, but he also couldn’t rule out the possibility. And so, since he’d been musing over where to go next, and since he had no better place to be at the moment, Orphan went to Sacramento and found himself a cheap motel room. The room struck him as about what one might expect of a place one was led to by a grease spot on a map.

After checking in, Orphan had caught a few hours of sleep, then performed an oblation, spending an hour practicing a sword kata as best he could in the cramped confines of the shabby motel room. After showering and going out for a quick meal, he’d come back and prepared a healing spell that would be triggered should he be seriously injured. The results of his ritual casting had been less than stellar, but one had to play the hand one was dealt. He'd been somewhat reluctant to use the High Speech in preparing the ritual, but figured that if someone happened to hear through the thin walls, they'd probably figure him for some sort of religious nut. At least it would be a change of pace from the sounds one usually heard people making in places like this.

“About time to go do something,” he decided. Once again, he’d rely on Fate to show him the way. While checking in, he’d noticed a display in the motel lobby, containing brochures for area tourist attractions, takeout and delivery menus for area restaurants and so forth. He’d taken one of each, which he now collected in a stack. Closing his eyes, Orphan spread these out on a table, mixed them around then restacked them again, all without looking at them. After completing this routine several times, he opened his eyes and looked at the one on top of the stack: a flyer for a Chinese buffet.

Noting the address of the place, he grabbed his gear and headed out to his car. Maybe he’d get there and notice something that led him elsewhere, or run into a member of the local Consilium, or maybe he was Fated to have some sort of noteworthy encounter or experience on the way there. He trusted he would figure it out when the time was right, but now it was time to get going.