If it is your birthday on this fine morrow:
Be wary of the winds of change. Cast a bronze copper into the fountain of youth, but don’t expect much as the wizards of Ragacius say the mana has waned with the dimming of the crescent moon. Also be wary of the pox, as it is rumoured to have spread past the mountains of Dunshire and onto the foothills of the noble kingdom of Vivador.
If the full moon is high on the third day, expect an adventurer to wander into your tavern and tell you something of grave importance. If you are getting into arguments at your place of work, worry not, for the pox is sure to strike down any man, woman, or elf in this wretched season and all disputes may well be resolved by powers far outside your control.
Bathe in the blood of a freshly slaughtered centaur if you wish to really piss off the neighbours. Remember that a forest sprite in the heat of the summer can lead your guild to great glory. Do not get too attached to any of your newborn children, the pox is in town.
The harvest shall bring fortune to you and your family. But be wary of dwarven blacksmiths with cantankerous tempers and especially those with visible boils which is a surefire sign of the murderous pox spreading about the land.
The king has decreed in order to slow the movement of disease, plague, and all manner of devilish maladies, all Cancers shall stay inside their hovels, huts, and manors. Avoid all business and spend your days praying with your loved ones, for surely one in three of us will be struck down.
The high priest and his magikal cabal have consulted the mystical medicine men of the Blurth Caverns found that being born between the dayes of July 23rd and the darkened nighttime of the Twenty Second Day of the Eight Monthe is safe from the accursed Pox and is free to roam the land of the sick and dying as if desolation hath never laid its accursed finger on this formerly blessed kingdom. It is rumoured that those named Leah have been especially blessed even in this dark hour. It is foretold that if any Leah, if they wander the inns and clubbes of the Estudiant Geeeto whilst the peasantry are, as they say, “lit”, a Leah can expect to be making the beast with two backs within the hour with a wood nymph of chiselled chin, a “hawt bawd” and only the most mild of venereal diseases #GLL
The mages are clamouring in their ivory towers and warlocks are chanting with darkened dungeons of brimstone. Widows are weeping and wailing. Grown men are sobbing over the festering corpses of loved ones being carried away by the grim faced men of the plague wagons. The high elves whisper that the end is nigh for us all. However if you still drink deep from the goblet of health, don’t make it too late a night drinking mead in the taverns, Virgo. You’ll need all your energy tomorrow!
The high priest is dead. His prophecies about immunity from the pox was merely fanciful imagination, not learned magickal knowledge. His cabal has barricade themselves in his chambers and burned his pustulated body with eldritch fyre. The town crier has, through phlegmatic coughs and sneezes, wheezed out the knowledge that the our most beautiful and beloved queen Helen has been smitten. The Prince has escorted the rest of the royal family from the high citadel in the hopes to outrun this maladie that is striking down men of great and noble strength like a rabid mad three horned oxen of the deserts of Aramaye rampaging through the- What… You, you really care about your damned horoscope. Now!? Right now? Our city has been laid low… Thousands are dying and this is what you care about!!?… Fine! Bewary of conflict in interpersonal relationships or something. Just imagine something vague but applicable and go with that.
Carrion birds dot our sky and the scent of burning corpses is thick in the air. Our noble king is dead, his emaciated body was found stricken over the stricken carapace of his lovely Queen. You’ll have to take chances in the next week if you want good fortune. Avoid Capricorns I guess. Try and bang a Gemini if you must.
The Kingdom of Vivador has been laid low, our mighty castles, marble temples and beautiful gardens will be remembered only in song. For not only has the Reaper swept his mighty scythe across our formerly noble realm, but it has been whispered from the East that the Necromancer of Ragnaroil has cast his baleful gaze on the dying carcass that was our kingdom. Our armies are scant and weak, they cannot repulse such a malice. And some say… in the Mausoleums of Delinor, the dead… are rising.
On matters of love, trust your instinct, and don’t really worry about STDs at this point, the world is ending.
The rumours are true. The Necromancer has spoken his evil word and the dead walk again. There is fighting in the streets. The mages still have not broken their vigil. Our heroes are scattered and weak. Only Thraith the Paladin still keeps watch at the Lower Gates alongside the Butcher of Elm Street and Jaol the One Eyed Archer, they alone will not be enough to stay the tide. The hour grows dark indeed.
Call your mother for advice on love. She will not lead you astray provided she doesn’t wield a rusty cleaver in the ranks of the undead horde.
The dead are at the gates. The Citadel is surely lost. The glorious age of the living will fade, forgotten by even the bards. While the gates still stand, the Butcher is dead, his cleavers split, but the holy water of the Paladin will ensure his peace in the grave. Jaol has lost his other eye to an undead dagger but he still spends his waking hours firing blindly into the horde. He also shot a man in the gut, but hey friendly fire is what happens when you walk in front of a newly blind archer. The official statement from his drill sergeant is that he regrets not insisting to Administration that now was a bad time to be hiring interns.
A career minded Aquarius can find many opportunities for success, as there are a lot of newly deceased vacant offices in high places all around our crumbling kingdom. Mars has spoken that now is a bad time to intern for Jaol the One-Eyed Blind Archer. The ringed planet Common Sense agrees vehemently.
What is this?? The Great Mage Hector, the Well Endowed, has burst forth from his tower and shouted a great spell into the night sky even as burning arrows hail down on the streets of the Citadel. A great green eerie glow has filled the Western sky and the thunder of a mighty army can be heard. The Orken horde has arisen to defend the region of the dead. The tide has turned at our darkest hour as the mighty cloven warriors cut through the army of the Necromancer with fury and monstrous strength, they are led by the Mighty Blood Shaman Ghazal who single handedly slew an entire legion of skeleton warriors and cut the throat of the Necromancer himself with the help of Sam the She Centaur who peed on the face of Necromancer to distract him. This era heralds a rebirth of the Epoch of the Living and a new Alliance between Monster and Man. We have prevailed in the face of evil.
Pisces are gonna have a shitty day though. Beware of Goblins bearing gifts.