A young traveller joins your party, a quicksilver presence flitting between listening ears, loquaciously pouring a nectar of indiscretion and rumour.
Beneath his finery, the Knave of Swords is little more than a well-spoken rake, a truth revealed by the severed finger on his left hand, a punishment for some past misdeed. You find his company enlivens your progress nonetheless.
The air is bright with excitement. Communications relating to new directions, or adjustments to those existing, lighten your step.
The Knave of Swords tells of petty scandal and enjoyable gossip; his youthful energy and love of words renders him a fine tattle tale, and you feel your mind sharpening in response.
There is something sour in the presence of the Knave of Swords; you suspect that his tales are embellished for effect, and his awareness of this suspicion leads to ever more spiteful gossip.
Inverted, the Knave is a trickster, but not a sophisticated one. His use of scarcely-believable untruth to obtain influence reveals the child within.
Selected Works