A sign on the front door of the Christy Street shop says, "Enter freely - unafraid." The door always seems locked to those who are just wandering by, giving it a curious glance, but for those troubled by things beyons the ken of this world, the door is always open, no matter what the time, and Madame Xanadu waits within and greets them by name.

She waits, ready to listen, near a small round table where her tarot cards lie. The frightened travellers, coming inside, are surrounded by a comforting scent of mint-jasmine, and a curious collection of crystal jars, magical artifacts of all types, and endless rows ofbooks with ancient bindings containing a wealth of esoteric knowledge.

Madame Xanadu is not surprised by their arrival, and seems to already know the trouble they are in, but she makes them tell their story, perhaps to make them clarify it to themselves. She offers the guidance of the tarot, giving them her interpretation of their plight through the symbols of the cards, but she makes no moves to interfere. As they stumble away to face their demons, she sometimes seems to acompany them, stepping in to intercede only after they have made amove to protect themselves, and the demons seem to vanish.

Madame Xanadu takes no payment for her services, but from each event she is seen leaving with a reminder of the case, which is now firmly entombed in one of the many opalescent jars that line her parlor shelves, macabre reminders of the evil that has just been overpowered by the soul of this person who came to her in need.

Madame Xanadu seems to be the guardian of many treasures, magical artifacts that somehow make their way to her and, even when stolen from her, always find their way back to her care. Nothing is known of her origin, although she is rumoured to be of Gypsy blood and to have come from Europe in some other time. Greenwich Village residents can't remember a time when Madame Xanadu's place was not there, or any time when she looked any different. Madame Xanadu is the keeper of many secrets, the biggest secret being the truth behind her own story.

In recent times the Spectre burned Madame Xanadu's eyes out of her. She can grow them back, but each time she does so, they wither. It seems the Spectre's curse is too powerful for her skills to overcome. However, she still "sees" what the cards are saying.