Then Takemiya pulled out The Deck.
The power of the Deck must have gotten to him, really. Why else would someone pull out what is surely The Most Dangerous Artifact in the known spheres? A surge of that magical power must've been directly responsible for him stating "I will draw four cards."
Everyone else slid back from the table as if he'd just let an ace mistakenly fall from his sleeve in a poker game with Bludgeon MacSplosion.
Euryale, the Dread Medusa.
Takemiya felt his body change on a molecular level. Weaken. Warp. Arteries hardened. Muscles stiffened. An image of a woman, snakes for hair, screamed through his mind. He wasn't sure what happened, but he was QUITE sure he didn't want to run into one of her kind in real life. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it.
Takemiya turned over the Second Card.
He wasn't sure what made him pause. Did he have the right place? He tried to look through the door, see through Time, but for some reason....
This place was a blank spot, a nothing in his field of vision.
"INTERESTING," he thought to himself. "I'LL JUST HAVE A BIT OF A WAIT." He turned and sat on a largish stone some way up the path that led from the house. Little did he know that he was not the first Immortal to have parked his Undying Keister on that particular piece of rock.
Meanwhile, Takemiya turned over the Third card, the idiot.
Um, I mean, The Idiot. The card.
Takemiya suddenly felt the strange urge to do all sorts of things. Dumb things. Silly things. He couldn't say why, but he just felt like doing the next thing that popped into his mind...
Like drawing another card.
While everyone debated what they were going to do next, Xeno scooped up the Deck. "Well, looks like he won't be needing this anymore," and he stowed it away. He then turned towards the Helm of Telepathy, where it was sitting on the old stuffed penguijn that had, for some reason, come to be in the office. He had what would later, in the history books (at least the ones that weren't used to line penguijn cages), be called a Moment of Inspiration.
He took the rather large and unwieldy helm and with an embarassed whisper asked Saladin for a boost. The bewildered giant dwarf picked the gnome up under the arms and hoisted him up towards the amber globe.
Xeno carefully placed the Helm over the globe and slowly, slooowly loosened his grip on it.
The Helm stayed there, floating.
Then, just as slowly, just as carefully, the helm turned - slowly and silently - in midair, until it was facing the dangling gnome. It then did something that it had never done before in all of the the seven hundred and fifty three years of its existance: