NightmaresTHE FIRST NIGHT OF NIGHTMARES
The discussion peters out, and the group slowly disband, with the two dwarves,
Balnor and Lucretia being the final ones to make their way to bed.
Too drunk to leave, Balnor ends up crashing on Lucretia's floor, much
to Serena's frustration, and Dorn dosses down with Larz. Milo shares
with Ceely, and Merrell shares with Cleo. Yvandel and Yvandel end
up sharing together again. Blondung, having organised the rooms, has
manoeuvred himself into a single room again.
In the early hours of the morning, the inn is quiet, only disturbed
by the creaks of an old building, and the uneasy sleep of it's occupants.
Images flit through the dreams of the sleepers, memories merging with
fantasy and twisting seamlessly into new images.
Lucretia, with the world spinning,
a continuation of his drunkenness that merges the point he fell asleep
to the point he started dreaming, finds himself stumbling across the
snow, chased by screaming orcs and a mad looking ogre behind. A bodiless
voice commands him to not to touch the books, and he spins to find
himself in a library. Sitting behind a desk is Gaard, but the ancient
mage is dead, his lifeless eyes looking out of bloodless skin. Something
grabs him by the wrists, and he struggles to free himself from his
unseen opponent, before ripping himself free, his arms stinging from
the strong grip. He spins again, but all goes dark, and he can just
sense movement in the darkness, the swish of scimitars through the
air and the almost silent footsteps of the agile drow. A sudden flare
of heat causes Luc to raise his arms in front of his face, and light
returns as he is engulfed in fire, his arms burning. As the fire dissipates,
he sees a laughing gnome wielding a portable flame thrower, Repeating
"You'vedeservedit!You'vedeservedit!", before a monstrous
head rises above the gnome and suddenly engulfs him. Time seems to
slow for Lucretia, as a chill settles through him, and he feels like
he is suddenly drowning in the cold cold water of a black pool. Unseen
hands pull at his feet, and an image of Torus appears above him, peering
down as the water in the pool begins to swirl. A ghost like dragon
appears above him as he spins around the pool, being sucked and pulled
deeper into it's depths as the dragon commands him to revenge it.
Torus crumbles to dust, which falls into the water, turning all the
water to dust. Suddenly Lucretia is choking on dust instead, no longer
being pulled down by hands, but by the weight of gold spilling out
of every pocket. As if falling out the bottom of a cloud, Lucretia
finds himself falling, the wind ripping a scream from his lips as
he falls down towards the landscape far below, towards a dark and
evil moor. Even as he falls, he can see the trolls moving towards
where he will fall. Milo appears next to him, seemingly unruffled
by their rapid approach towards the ground, and calmly calls out "Enjoy
more Longsaddle Beef!" Fireballs zip from the end of his staff,
flashing down ahead of them and engulfing the trolls. Milo turns to
Lucretia and grins, blowing him a kiss and winking as he turns into
Serena, who turns into Vaslin, before turning into Larz. Feeling as
though he were still falling, Lucretia finds himself again walking
the corridors of Kheizar Dalan. With his bastard sword in his hand,
he finds himself smashing zombies and skeletons, who just don't stop
coming out of the fog. His sword is wrenched from his grip, and his
arms are grabbed by a skeleton, it's bony fingers digging into the
flesh. Herod appears, his holy symbol blazing like fire, and the undead
fall away, apart from the skeleton's arms, which remain tightly gripped
on his forearms. Herod turns into Balnor, with a burning torch in
hand. "Stand still, this might hurt!" he says, with a grin,
as he applies the burning torch to Luc's forearms to make the skeletal
hands drop free. With his arms stinging, Lucretia falls over to cool
his arms in the cold snow. Hearing a roar, he looks up to see a giant
Von Fedel battling an even bigger Merrell, the two of them bashing
at each other, but using people as their weapons! He struggles to
his feet, only to have Von Fedel turn and grab him by his arms, nearly
pulling them from the sockets as he is flung towards Merrell like
a rag doll. Merrell turns into Cleo, then Ceely, before finally Serena
again, who catches him and cradles him in her arms like a baby. With
Serena rocking him gently, the dream slowly fades, leaving only an
aching in his arms, and a cold chill to his whole body, which remains
till he wakes, Serena still holding him. Snoring from the other side
of the room indicates that Balnor is still there, the young acolyte
of Tymora still sleeping off the effects of over indulgence the night
before.
***
Serena, having been disturbed
when Lucretia and Balnor finally tip-toed into the room, struggled
to get to sleep for a long time, her anger over Lucretia's drunkenness
and Balnor's presence in the room keeping her awake. Finally, as Balnor
starts to snore, and with Lucretia on the bed beside her twitching
in his sleep somewhat, she too drifts into a dream. At first, she
dreams of the warrior Locar, feeling his hands massaging her shoulders.
His hands move over her shoulders in strong easy movements, before
running down her arms and suddenly gripping her painfully around the
wrists. A voice in her ear mutters something arcane, a spell of some
sort perhaps, and a bolt of lightning leaps down from the sky above,
slamming into the ground next to her. Deafened, everything goes completely
silent, and she turns around to see Lucretia, his mouth moving as
he shouts angrily at her. Suddenly, he jerks, and a clawed emaciated
hand erupts from his chest, clutching his still beating heart. As
Lucretia collapses to one side, Torus, appears behind him, pulling
his arm free and still holding the bloody heart. Serena glances down,
to see that Lucretia has become Vaslin. Looking back to Torus, she
finds that he has become the drow priestess, who hurls something invisible
at her, burning her arms as she raises them to protect her face. There
is a flash of light, and then all goes dark and cold - almost as if
she were dead. Slowly, light returns and she hears a creepy noise,
an evil laugh - Von Fedel! She is in a long corridor, lit by light
globes in the ceiling which disappear into the distance. Dwarven runes
glow in a wall nearby, and she turns to see a giant Von Fedel using
Yvandel's dead body as a puppet. The evil priest reaches out a giant
hand to grab at Serena, and she turns to run down the corridor, feeling
the hand just behind her about to grab her! Suddenly, she spots a
door and pulls her way through it, only to find herself in a room
with large numbers of undead. Naked and unarmed, she jerks open another
door and runs through that one. In this room, she finds herself facing
an draconian creature, short stubby wings sprout from it's back, and
it's face has draconic features, but the body is orc sized. She lashes
out at it, punching with both fists, only to have it explode into
acid, which splashes over her hands and wrists. With the acrid smell
still in her nose, she leaps over the pool, suddenly flying like a
bird. Zooming through the air, she swoops down a tall snow covered
mountain side, before seeing a large cave, in the entrance of which
she can see the glitter of gold. Alighting next to the entrance she
stoops to pick up a piece, which she puts in a pocket. A roar sounds
from the cave and a huge red dragon appears, but it fades into a ghost
as it comes into the day-light. Stumbling backwards away from it,
Serena trips over the edge of a cliff, and falls, she to tries to
fly again, but the coin in her pocket weighs her down too much and
the ground below approaches rapidly. A Pegasus catches her and she
finds herself flying again. "That was lucky" she says to
herself, only to have the Pegasus look around and say "Crap happens"
before bucking her off. Again, she falls, this time only a short way,
falling into a large thorny bush. The wiry branches of the bush uncurl
and wrap themselves around her, pulling at her arms as she struggles
to escape the bush, their sharp thorns piercing her skin and sucking
her blood. A feeling of sleepiness overcomes her, and she plunges
down into senseless darkness. Later, a more pleasant dream involving
an enlarged Lucretia, and she finally opens her eyes, finding herself
cuddled up against the warrior, who is shivering a little. Snoring
from the other side of the room indicates that Balnor is still there,
the young acolyte of Tymora still sleeping off the effects of over
indulgence the night before.
***
Cleo, after staying up late
with Merrell in their shared room, finally gives way to the call of
sleep. In her dream, she is a little girl again, chasing Stormy the
cat across the fields near her home. Reaching the copse of trees at
the edge of their farm, a shudder goes through her, as part of her
remembers what happens next. Still following the cat, she crawls after
it into an old hollow tree-trunk, trying to squeeze through the narrow
tunnel, before becoming stuck. Panic runs through her, memories of
her childhood ordeal flooding back. Behind her she can hear something
moving, but the space is too narrow to turn, and she can't see the
source of the noise, but knows it is something horrific. Stormy returns
to her, but he moves in a jerky fashion, and has maggots crawling
all over him. The undead cat rubs up against her arm, and the maggots
wriggle and squirm onto her flesh, making her thrash to get rid of
them. The tree-trunk turns to a stone crawl-space, with a million
tons of rock above her head, crushing the life out of her. Suddenly,
Balnor rips away the stone covering and holds out his hand to help
her to her feet. As she moves to take it, she sees the horrific branding
on his hand - the image of the dark sun that Von Fedel had seared
there with his holy symbol. Grabbing her right hand, he pulls her
to her feet and she looks up at his face, to find Merrell standing
there instead. Torus steps out from behind Merrell, and Merrell puts
his arm over the taut emaciated shoulders of the undead, smiling in
friendship. Torus grins, his teeth showing black and decayed in his
lip-less mouth, and he reaches out a hand, gripping Cleo's left hand,
Merrell still holding her right. His grip is ice cold, numbing her
hand, and she tries to pull away from both of them, but they are both
too strong. Anger builds up in her, and she kicks out, pushing herself
into a blinding rage. As the red fog fades, she finds herself standing
over Merrell's dead body, and she falls to her knees, crying over
what she has done. Her tears pool on the ground, making a puddle,
which expands to become a pool. Merrell's body is pulled away from
her by bodiless hands, and she finds herself short of breath as she
struggles to the surface of the ice cold water. Gold glitters below
and the cave above glows red from something large floating above the
surface of the water. Afraid to go up, but running out of breath,
she breaks the surface, only to find herself standing and facing two
oriental warriors, who throw sharp pointed stars at her in quick succession.
She flings up her arms to protect her face, and is hit by several,
knocking her back. Gasping in pain, she rips one out and throws it
back, the shuriken striking one of the warriors in the throat. He
staggers, then suddenly goes grey, turning to stone. Laughter comes
from all around, and she spins to find no-one there. The disembodied
laughter continues from all directions, and she continues to spin
first one way then another, searching for who is mocking her, but
seeing no-one. Finally, the laughter cuts out, and an unearthly wail
that hurts her ears starts. The piercing noise cuts right to her soul,
and she feels like her head will burst, but a loud barking breaks
through it, and she sees Dodger dart forward. Looking ahead, she sees
the banshee Agatha. Dodger leaps and bites at Agatha's throat, cutting
the painful wail short, and causing Agatha to vanish in a puff of
smoke. As the smoke clears, Yvandel, sitting on the lap of his enlarged
puppet, turns to look at her, moving woodenly, his mouth opening and
closing silently as the two faced puppet above laughs. The images
slide off to her right, and as she tries to turn to catch up with
them, they move faster and faster, before she is spinning as well,
a moment later, dizzy and disorientated, she falls over, waking suddenly
to find herself all tangled in the bedclothes and lying on the floor
at the side of the bed.
***
Merrell falls asleep slightly
before Cleo, and has pleasant dreams of carving wooden rings for a
while, before his dreams also turn dark and sinister. A small dwarf
batters remorselessly at his knees as he struggles to remember the
words to a spell. As he finally remembers the words, the spell back-fires,
and instead of fire emerging from his finger-tips, it simply catches
his sleeves alight! Ripping his robe off, he jumps up and down on
the dwarf, who turns to dust under his feet, and a sharp pain in his
chest makes him look down at himself. Over his heart, he can see the
heart shaped broach pulsing as if it was his own heart beating. Blood
oozes from where the broken horn pierces it, and he shudders as it's
magic works on his battered knees, restoring them whole. A figure
flits past the corner of his eye, and he turns to try to see who it
is, pointing a bone wand. Lightning flares from the end of the wand,
and as he blinks away the after image, he sees Cleo's smoking and
still twitching body sprawled on the floor of the cave. Shaggy figures
emerge from the darkness all around as he gathers her body to him,
and he blasts them again and again with the wand, but there are too
many of them. One of them finally gets close enough, grabbing his
right arm and yanking it and the wand wide as another grabs his left
arm. Their sharp claws dig in as he tries to pull free, but they are
too strong, and he is stretched wide. A feeling of helplessness overcomes
him as he sees the Zhent mage who had kidnapped Aran, approach with
her struggling in front of him. Merrell can do nothing but watch as
she is killed in front of him, and he is wracked with guilt and grief
as again he looses her. The Zhent opens up a portal, just as he had
done in Cormyr, but this time Merrell doesn't get a chance to follow,
his arms weighed down on either side by large sacks, and he stumbles
forward and down to his knees, the bags clinking as they hit the floor.
Wriggling, he pulls his arms free, but the portal has closed, and
he cannot follow. In despair, he turns, to see trolls closing in,
the sickly sweet stink of the Evermoors suddenly strong in his nostrils.
Again, he tries to think of the right arcane words to invoke spells
of fire, but the words stick in his throat. A horse leaps over him,
it's rider chopping about at the trolls in wild abandon with a bastard
sword, cutting them down like they were made of straw. For a while,
his heart soars as he sees the enemy laid low, but the trolls who
had fallen, rise again. Hewn limbs crawl their way to the bodies and
re-attach, or claw at the warrior's ankles. Soon, as many enemies
as there had been before have risen again and the warrior is sorely
pressed, his arms obviously weakening from the onslaught. Pulling
himself together, Merrell incants a spell of fire, blasting the trolls
one by one, each one turning to ash within a moment. As the last troll
dies, Merrell turns to the warrior, only to find that the man has
no face, all the features blank in a smooth expanse of flesh. Horrified,
he walks backwards, tripping over something unseen and falling into
deep cold water. Something, weeds or the like, gets tangled around
his legs, and he starts to drown, the surface of the water only inches
above him. Panicked, he struggles to free himself, only succeeding
in getting himself more and more tangled, before finally he looses
all energy, and his body goes limp, floating in the water. No longer
breathing, but still aware, he can do nothing but watch as he sinks
towards darkness. He hears someone or something commanding him to
return, but he has no energy, and can do nothing to respond. As he
sinks further, he passes a shape in the water, dully registering it
to be the giant head of a dragon. The dragon's eyes seem to follow
him as he sinks further, before the maw suddenly opens, and clamps
down around him, clamping his arms to his sides. There is a wrenching
feeling, and suddenly he can breath again. He opens his eyes, wondering
what the sudden thump was, and realises he is lying on his bed, uncovered
and Cleo is tangled up in the covers on the floor on the far side
of the bed.
***
Milo and Ceely also spent
some time alone together in their shared room before falling asleep.
For Milo, dreams were slow to come, and certainly peaceful to start
with. It was not to last however, as he found himself in the middle
of a camp site, sleepers all around, and only him on watch. A figure
enters the firelight, and strides to the first sleeper, pulling a
dagger, which it uses to slit the sleeper's throat. Shocked, Milo
tries to yell out a warning as the dagger is first drawn, but nothing
comes out. The assassin moves to the second body, and again, Milo
tries to warn, but fails. Pulling his mancatcher out, Milo charges
across, using the weapon to pin the man. Another assassin appears
out of the darkness, and heads to a third sleeper. Dropping the man
catcher, Milo grabs up his staff, and rushes to put himself in between
the second assassin and the sleeper. Defending the innocent sleeper,
Milo whirls his staff, the iron shod wood catching the assassin in
the temple and killing him dead. As Milo berates himself for taking
another's life, the first assassin breaks free from the mancatcher's
spring loaded jaws, and calmly stalks over to another sleeper, cutting
another throat. Milo's guilt is multiplied as he surges to his feet,
staff in hand again. Again, he strikes the assassin dead, only to
turn and see that the other assassin he had thought he had killed,
has risen again, and is moving towards another sleeper. Rushing between
the two assassin's Milo struggles to defend the sleepers, and fighting
a loosing battle, they are all slowly killed. Finally, the two assassin's
turn on Milo, and stalk him. This time, his blows don't seem to effect
them, and their forms turn and twist into the unnatural Vermen. Chains
appear around their necks, and Yvandel appears holding the other end
of the chain. Backing away from them, Milo turns and runs, his heart
hammering in his chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he stumbles, before
running into someone. He turns back to find himself face to face with
a woman, who twists a strange looking gold ring on her finger and
smiles at him before her expression turns hard, and she yells out
some command. Immediately, his arms are grabbed on each side, and
he is stretched out wide. There is a snapping sound, and first one
arm, and then the other is broken by the two powerful warriors holding
him. The woman laughs, turning into Serena, then Cleo, then finally
Ceely, who merely sniggers. "Hold me!" she says, laughing
at his broken arms again. Anger surges in his breast, before being
suppressed by a sense of calm. "Let me heal you!" he hears
another voice, and turning, sees Merrell holding one hand to his chest,
and placing another hand on Milo's head. His arms smart as the skin
grows taut over the bones, and for a moment, he sees red marks appear
all over them, shifting. The pain fades, as it always does for him,
and his arms return to their normal look. Merrell and Ceely have disappeared
as he looks up, and he finds himself totally alone. But not alone.
In the darkness beyond his vision, is a presence, a terrible presence
of power and foreboding. Fear runs through him, making his legs quiver,
but he grasps at his holy symbol to draw courage from it's strength.
To his horror, the holy symbol crumbles under his fingers, and his
faith starts to crumble under the onslaught of fear. Digging in another
pocket, he tries to pull out another holy symbol, but it turns out
to be a gold piece instead. He shudders and hurls the piece into the
darkness, towards the presence, which vanishes, leaving him alone
again in the darkness. For a long time, there is silence, and then
there is a scream, a real scream, which brings him awake. Next to
him, Ceely writhes on the bed. Placing a hand on her forehead, he
calls to her, trying to bring her out of her own nightmare.
***
Ceely falls asleep marginally
after Milo, and initially dreams a reoccurring dream for her - sailing
on the ocean, the Sword Coast just in sight to the east, and the sun
shining, he half-brothers smiling at her as they draw in the nets.
But the nets are heavy, something larger than fish seems to be in
them, and as they pull them aboard, they find that there are dead
bodies in the nets, bodies that twitch and start to move. Throwing
the nets off, the zombies attack, throwing her brothers into the water,
where a dragon rises above the water, only to snap down on them and
eat them. Ceely rushes forward, using her harpoon to attack the zombies,
thrusting it again and again into them, but they don't die, and just
keep on clawing at her. Soon she is bleeding from several wounds,
her arms and shoulders ache, dripping blood, and she has been pushed
back right to the stern of the boat. With no-where left to go, she
turns and dives into the water, only to find herself swimming deep
deep into the dark waters. Something glitters far below her, but she
has no breath, and cannot go to see what it is. Swimming desperately
for the surface, it seems fathoms away, and her lungs feel like they
are bursting. With a sharp pain in her chest, she finally breaks the
surface, only to find that the world has turned upside down, and her
head is still under water! She begins to thrash, trying to get her
head above water, before finally taking a breath. Even though she
knows she is still under water, she appears to be able to breath.
The panic lessens slightly, but not hugely, as she sees orange striped
fish swimming towards her - butcher fish. Seeing a tree-trunk floating
in the water next to her, she scrambles on to it, only to find herself
on a wide branch in a tall tree. A pair of butcher fish, each one
clamped onto her elbows, flap in the air before falling off and taking
chunks of her flesh with them. Looking down, vertigo over comes her
for a moment, and she nearly falls, but a shaggy creature grabs her
arm, it's long arm holding her firmly in a vice like grip. It grins
at her, it's fetid breath washing over her and making her gag, before
it pulls her towards in to envelope her in a tight embrace. Almost
crushed by it's bear like hug, she knees it in the groin, and it lets
go, only to turn into Milo, who looks at her shocked, before falling
backwards. Behind him, Von Fedel smiles, and she finds herself smiling
back, before remembering how evil he is and unsure why some part of
her liked him and considered him friendly. Seeing her expression change,
Von Fedel mutters something, and Ceely feels herself freeze, unable
to catch herself as she tumbles, stiff and off-balance onto the floor.
Unable to see behind her, she feels a presence and can see the shadow
of Von Fedel, wielding HER harpoon and aiming it towards her back.
The shadow moves, the harpoon lifting for the killing blow, and time
seems to slow down as the point descends towards her back. Finally,
she feels it, pressing against her spin, the point puncturing the
skin, and cutting into the muscle next to her spine, pushing through
and grating against her back bone. The point, cracking some of the
bone, pushes deeper, cutting into her inner organs and pushing through,
before finally stretching and then splitting the skin on her stomach.
Every inch of the movement she feels, and agony shoots through every
part of it. And then the harpoon is pulled backwards, it's barbs ripping
at her flesh and muscles on the just as slow return journey, multiplying
the pain intensely. As the harpoon finally pulls free, she rolls over,
to see Milo standing there. "Don't worry" he says calmly,
holding his holy symbol as he places one hand on her head. The pain
starts to fade, and she opens her eyes to see Milo staring down at
her.
***
Dorn, despite the large quantities
of ale he had consumed earlier in the evening, is still fairly steady
on his feet when he and Larz finally head for their shared room. Too
tired to return to his own home, Larz is happy for him to share the
room, and the two cousins settle down to sleep, snoring almost as
soon as their heads hit their respective pillows. Almost immediately,
Dorn finds himself tramping the halls of Kheizar Dalan, showing various
other dwarves, including Bruenor Battlehammer, King Harbromm and even
his father the various features of the lost dwarf hold. The halls
seem cleaner and the noise of dwarves talking can he heard echoing
through out. Descending to the Rose Forge itself, Dorn pauses to allow
another dwarf exit the doorway first, noting that the dwarf is hairless,
and is in fact the same one that they had found in the sealed casket.
He turns to speak with the dwarf, numerous questions on his lips,
but the dwarf's skin is bloodless, and his eyes empty. The dead dwarf's
lips curl back, exposing fangs, and he lunges forward towards Dorn's
neck. Dorn brings his arms up to protect himself, and is thrown backwards,
falling into a concealed pit with spikes in it. He lands, several
spikes piercing him in places, and he struggles to sit up. From murder
holes, cross bow bolts shoot, ricocheting off his armour as he tries
to escape. With blood oozing from several holes in his armour, he
manages to get to his feet, and climbs from the pit, only to face
several zombies. An axe appears in his hands and he lifts it to chop
at the first zombie, but the dragon shaped head of the axe twists
to look at him and intones "I command you now to wreak my revenge!"
The zombies push at him, and he falls again backwards into the pit.
The fall seems longer than last time, and any moment, he expects to
land, the spikes bursting through his chest, but the top of the pit
disappears above him as he falls and falls into darkness, unable to
see where he is going, and just a square of light above him getting
smaller and smaller. As he falls, he catches glimpses of other things,
flying in the darkness. Stirge thump into him, and clamp on, their
dagger like beaks finding the holes in his armour to suck his blood.
Still falling, he feels weaker, before finally landing, merely winded
on a flat surface. Gasping to get his breath back, he looks around,
but it is still dark. The stirge have fled, and as he puts a hand
out to push himself up, his hand enters ice cold water. Even with
infravision, he can barely make out the cave he is in and the pool
of water he is lying next to. Rising to his feet, still weak, breathless
and bloody, he feels his way around the cave, finding no escape. Unable
to climb the smooth walls, he feels trapped, the cave becoming smaller
and smaller until he has his feet in the water and can touch the walls
on both sides. The water starts to rise, moving up around his legs,
groin and then chest, soaking into his beard and chilling him to the
bone. Panicked by the rising water, he tries to remove his armour,
but there in not enough room, the narrow well he is now in barely
allowing him to move his arms past his body, let alone take off heavy
armour. As the water rises to his neck, he tries to climb the walls,
but they are too slippery, and water splashes in his face as he goes
on tip-toes to try to stay clear. As the water goes over his head,
the scene above him lightens, and he sees Yvandel, smiling dropping
a coin towards him. Some part of him realises he is in the donation
fountain at Fortune Hall, but another part knows he must be dreaming,
as Larz appears, dipping his hand into the pool and pulling him out.
He splutters awake to find himself soaking wet and sitting up on the
floor, Larz having just pulled him up. On the floor next to him is
the wash basin, lying upside down, and there is a spreading pool of
water around him. "Are you all right?" Larz repeats, his
own eyes looking haggard and hung over.
***
Herod, sharing a room with
Yvandel, also dreams vividly that night. His starts with a dream of
battles, the ultimate test in life, where individual prowess can turn
the tide of the entire battle. Running heroically across the field,
Herod, in full armour is leading the battle, routing the faceless
enemy through his valiant actions. But then his axe snaps, and his
shield breaks, and the straps on his armour break, causing it to fall
to the ground around him. As the enemy turn and charge for him, he
realises he is all alone, his companions have deserted him and he
has no army. Worse still, he found his muscles wouldn't work, and
he was powerless. The enemy he could see more clearly now, undead
skeletons who would flee from him if only he could reach his holy
symbol, but he couldn't and they didn't, simply drawing slowly closer,
until he was surrounded by them, hear the click of their bones as
they moved, and feel them brush against him. For once, his well of
anger failed him, and a sort of fatalistic gloom overcame him as he
waited for them to do something to him. Finally, one of them extended
a bony hand, clamping it around Herod's own forearm in a warrior's
greeting. Control flooded back to his limbs and, without knowing why,
gripped the skeleton's arm back. Soon, Herod was greeting all of the
undead warriors in turn, saluting them for their skills even in death.
Suddenly, a new one appears, and as Herod grips it's arm, and it grips
his, he realises that it is not a skeleton, but Torus, and it's burning
eyes bore into his as intense pain goes through his arm. "You
can do better than that!" hisses the undead creature, grinning
as it's grip tightens harder. Torus starts to turn, turning Herod
with him, until the two are spinning, locked together by gaze and
arms, the rest of the world blurring as it passes. Suddenly everything
jerks to a halt, leaving Herod reeling. Torus has vanished, leaving
Herod precariously balanced on a tall pile of gold coins, teetering
and just managing to keep his balance. Several feet below him, the
coins emerge from a pool of water, like some sort of monetary stalagmite.
Finally getting his balance, Herod peers down into the water, trying
to see what was there. Something moves, and he realises it is his
reflection, but then he sees a larger reddish shape behind him and
he turns to try to see it. Loosing his balance at the movement, he
tumbles, but never hits the water, instead landing on his feet in
heavy mud. Next to him, the mud shifts, and a troll pulls itself free,
snapping it's head forward towards Herod's face. Herod raises his
arms to defend himself, and howls as the troll takes a chunk out of
his fore-arm. In rapid succession, the troll bites again and again,
stripping the flesh from first one arm then then other. Amazingly,
Herod finds that he can still control his arms, even though they now
look more like skeletal arms, torn bloody rags of skin and muscle
are all that are left. Strangely, he feels no pain, only horror at
what is happening. The troll pauses, licking it's lips and then sinks
back to merge with the mud. Herod looking down at his devastated arms
shudders, and holds them gingerly in front of him, as he staggers
out of the mud. Stumbling forward, he twists as he falls, not wanting
to use his arms to catch himself, and awakes with a jerk, lying on
his back holding his arms out in front of him.
***
Yvandel, on the other side
of the room, is also just waking up, having had his own nightmares.
He had dreamt of the stage, appearing before nobles and dignitaries,
but his skills had failed him, and he had failed to make them laugh,
failed to impress with his puppet, and had had tomatoes thrown at
him. The tomatoes had turned into shuriken, and the audience had turned
into dragon cultists, some wearing stupid looking dragon masks. Pulling
a throwing star from his fore-arm, and another from his shoulder,
he had smoothly drawn a small crossbow, firing bolt after bolt into
the dragon cultists. The first one exploded into a cloud of acid,
the second turned to stone, and the third grew dragon like wings and
launched itself towards him. Resorting to magic, Yvandel cast some
spells, but all his illusions failed, and the draconian got closer
and closer, driving Yvandel back towards something, towards something
horrific behind him. Unable to tear his gaze away from what is in
front of him, his heart beat wildly as he imagined the horror behind.
Finally, his foot hit something, and he stopped, spinning his head
around so fast it made his neck crack. Behind him, Cleo's mangled
and obviously dead body was being made to dance like some sort of
horrific marionette, and to one side, Xred the ogre mage grinned manically
at the sight, gesturing with his oversized hands as though pulling
the strings. The Draconian suddenly grabbed Yvandel's arms, wrenching
them painfully up behind him, and thrusting him bodily forward towards
Blondung, who stepped out from behind a pillar. Sneering, Blondung
looked at Yvandel in disgust. "Call yourself a mage!" he
said sarcastically. Suddenly released from behind, Yvandel staggered
forward, and bringing his arms up, gesticulated rapidly as he cast
a spell of power. A lightning bolt zapped towards Blondung, but bounced
back, blasting Yvandel from his feet. As the after image cleared in
his eyes, he saw Cleo and Balnor, laughing at him, before Balnor changed
into Merrell, the half-elf lowering his spectacles on his nose so
he could peer disdainfully over them. Milo, stepped up to Yvandel's
side, putting his arm around the puppeteer. "Don't worry mate!"
said the Painbearer in a friendly manner. "It's a dream."
Milo was suddenly ripped away from Yvandel, massive red claws plucking
him up and hurling his body to one side. "No it'sss not!"
hissed a voice both powerful and terrible in one sound. Fear rippled
through Yvandel for a moment, before someone tapped him on the shoulder.
"Take this to Silverymoon" said Gaard, pressing a pouch
of coins into Yvandel's hands. Yvandel looked at Gaard in confusion,
as the blood drained from Gaard's face and he collapsed onto his desk.
Another pair of hands gripped Yvandel's arms, and Harkel Harpell appeared
smiling . "It's all your fault!" he explained, weaving spells
to bind Yvandel with magical rope. Yvandel tries to argue, but no
words came out and Harkel shook his head. "It's the whipping
post for you!" he explained in a friendly tone, wagging his finger
but still smiling as the enchanted ropes cut into Yvandel's wrists.
Binding Yvandel to a post, Harkel Harpell produced a whip with several
snake like heads on the end, and still smiling, started to whip Yvandel,
the snake heads biting the puppeteer every time they struck. Soon,
Yvandel was writhing in agony, unable to escape the torment. Unable
to escape and unable to scream, Yvandel could do nothing, till finally
a snake head bit him on the forehead, and he suddenly woke, his head
sore from where he had just bumped it on the bedpost.
***
THE SECOND NIGHT OF NIGHTMARES
Settling down to sleep, some more quickly than others, there are varying amounts of trepidation as the adventurer's worry about what dreams might trouble them this night. Those fears are well founded, as further dreams, different, yet similar in terms of the sense of fear, of events beyond control, of being watched, weighed and tested. When the morning comes, the various members of the Unknowns open their eyes with thankfulness that their nightmares are just dreams, and that another sunny day in Silverymoon beckons.