Innocent eyes peer into the darkness of your slumber and you begin to dream.
And you hear a voice.
“We were out by the Village Ruins looking for the Lost Olkridge War Chest when it happened. It was like I was chasing my younger self through the woods. It was cold and I could hear music floating through the trees. And there was definitely something out there. Waiting. Watching me. Only visible from the corner of my eye.”~
“We were out by the Village Ruins looking for the Lost Olkridge War Chest when it happened. It was like I was chasing my younger self through the woods. It was cold and I could hear music floating through the trees. And there was definitely something out there. Waiting. Watching me. Only visible from the corner of my eye.”~
Visions of Nightmare Kings and Fey Parties swirl in your mind.
You hear the thick constant of heavy rain somewhere in the distance mixed with a louder trickle of water running along some pipes above you. There is the slightest smell of pennies and mildew, and your shoes splash through puddle after puddle in the corridor. The light is dim, barely illuminating the space, and you hear the distracting but familiar hum of fluorescents. A moment later you arrive at a door and grasp the heavy handle. You yank the bar up and it gives way. You wonder how long it’s been, but your feet have yet to ache so you continue walking. You get to the end of the next hall. There is another door that you push open and continue forward. A moment later you arrive at a door and grasp the heavy handle. You yank the bar up and it gives way. A moment later you arrive at a door and grasp the heavy handle -you stop.
You turn around and the space opens wide.
You can see the storm clouds above you. You're in an open cornfield that’s already been harvested for the season. Then you are running towards a big spruce tree on the hill. Carved into the bark you see a skeletal hand pointing to the sky. THen you are struck by lightning.~
Suddenly there is the sound that can only be described as 'spiraling keytar jingle.'
Its paired with loud oversaturated graphics, that are square with fuzzy rounded corners and a voiceover that quickly describes each one.
“GET YOUR SWIMMING POOL OR SPA THIS WEEKEND AT RECREATIONAL WAREHOUSE FACTORY. Choose from the Midwest’s largest selection of portable spas, over a thousand available now! Like-our-HUGE-seven-and-a-half-foot-lounger-spa-just-sixteen-fifty-nine. Our-giant-five-person-portable-only-twelve-ninety-nine. And-our-spacious-octagon-just-nine-nighty-nine. That’s right, a spacious portable spa for just nine-nighty-nine with no money down! Hurry down to your local Recreational Warehouse Factory. Time is running out!”~
“GET YOUR SWIMMING POOL OR SPA THIS WEEKEND AT RECREATIONAL WAREHOUSE FACTORY. Choose from the Midwest’s largest selection of portable spas, over a thousand available now! Like-our-HUGE-seven-and-a-half-foot-lounger-spa-just-sixteen-fifty-nine. Our-giant-five-person-portable-only-twelve-ninety-nine. And-our-spacious-octagon-just-nine-nighty-nine. That’s right, a spacious portable spa for just nine-nighty-nine with no money down! Hurry down to your local Recreational Warehouse Factory. Time is running out!”~
There is a ringing sound and someone answers, "Hello?"
There is a pause. You try to listen in but can't hear the second voice.
"No, they were not dreamwalkers.”
There is a pause.
“Just Lucids. But it’s strange, they were self-aware, like they knew they were dreaming.”
There is another longer pause.
“No, they booked passage to Telhambra.”
More distant mumbling.
“Of course, it’s strange. We’ve never encountered them like this before. And now three times this month? It’s like something from an antediluvian story.
"First those Wastelanders, then Atlanteans, now people of Pastel and of Shadow? Something has changed.”~
"No, they were not dreamwalkers.”
There is a pause.
“Just Lucids. But it’s strange, they were self-aware, like they knew they were dreaming.”
There is another longer pause.
“No, they booked passage to Telhambra.”
More distant mumbling.
“Of course, it’s strange. We’ve never encountered them like this before. And now three times this month? It’s like something from an antediluvian story.
"First those Wastelanders, then Atlanteans, now people of Pastel and of Shadow? Something has changed.”~
A man in a long black duster sat in an old blue pickup and flipped a shiny green object like a coin.
It rolled across his digits and vanished back into his palm. His thoughts were focused on how good it felt to be himself again, how the situation with the nightmares and the 200 years of stasis were exactly what he needed to expunge the poison in his veins. Now, if he was able to push back -their- machinations a little longer, then he could get to Catalyst Labs -or whatever corporate shell they were using- with time to spare.
“Well Jessica, The croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.” He then glanced down to a pad of paper with an address: 2400 Grand Island Blvd, Grand Island, NY 14072
He flipped the ouroboros scale across his fingers one more time as his spell came to completion. The last vestiges of chronomancy evaporated and the scale disintegrated.~
“Well Jessica, The croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.” He then glanced down to a pad of paper with an address: 2400 Grand Island Blvd, Grand Island, NY 14072
He flipped the ouroboros scale across his fingers one more time as his spell came to completion. The last vestiges of chronomancy evaporated and the scale disintegrated.~
You see an island sitting in the unformed dreaming.
A thick canopy and smell of decay betray the swamp like features of this landmass. As you move towards the island your eyes are able to make out weeping willows dipping down into the waters stagnating on the ground.
Your vision suddenly turns to static.
The familiar face of Admiral Tiberius Shriver stares back at you.
“…miral Shriver calling the drea…”
There is more static.
The trees shuttered and the wildlife stirred as the island seems to lurch into motion. Leaves blow in a breeze seemingly caused by the sudden motion. The sounds of rushing air grows as the island seems to pick up speed.
*static*
“..epeat this is Admiral Tiberius Shriver calling the dreamwalkers. Reverie is in need of assistance. We have a large object heading our dire…”
*static*
From high in the sky, you see the island tearing its way across the unformed dreaming. Moving fast enough that the unformed seems to break on its coasts and form a wake behind it of roiling mist.
*static*
“Seems to be on a collision course with the city. We’re unsure of the cause, but know that if it were to impact it would be catastrophic. Thousands dead, and our defenses crippled. The nightmares would have a...”
*static*
A bunker sits alone on the shore of a newly formed lake. Ancient abandoned ships poke out of the surface of the water. Your vision moves inside of the bunker. A small light seems to flash over and over again. Pulsing a pattern out as if reaching out for someone to respond. 3211-1545-4131-5322.
*static*
“Sent out a representative to investigate the island. We’re unsure of exactly what to do in this situation. We don’t have any armaments large enough to break up the island from range, so we’ll need to find another solution. That's where you come in.”
*static*
Your vision suddenly turns to static.
The familiar face of Admiral Tiberius Shriver stares back at you.
“…miral Shriver calling the drea…”
There is more static.
The trees shuttered and the wildlife stirred as the island seems to lurch into motion. Leaves blow in a breeze seemingly caused by the sudden motion. The sounds of rushing air grows as the island seems to pick up speed.
*static*
“..epeat this is Admiral Tiberius Shriver calling the dreamwalkers. Reverie is in need of assistance. We have a large object heading our dire…”
*static*
From high in the sky, you see the island tearing its way across the unformed dreaming. Moving fast enough that the unformed seems to break on its coasts and form a wake behind it of roiling mist.
*static*
“Seems to be on a collision course with the city. We’re unsure of the cause, but know that if it were to impact it would be catastrophic. Thousands dead, and our defenses crippled. The nightmares would have a...”
*static*
A bunker sits alone on the shore of a newly formed lake. Ancient abandoned ships poke out of the surface of the water. Your vision moves inside of the bunker. A small light seems to flash over and over again. Pulsing a pattern out as if reaching out for someone to respond. 3211-1545-4131-5322.
*static*
“Sent out a representative to investigate the island. We’re unsure of exactly what to do in this situation. We don’t have any armaments large enough to break up the island from range, so we’ll need to find another solution. That's where you come in.”
*static*
'BANG-BANG-BANG.'
The sound came from a canopic jar made of tinted glass and with the head of a bird that had a long-curved beak. Something was moving around inside and a flash of gold fabric was visible enough to catch any perceptive eye. 'BANG-BANG-BANG' -the noise continued desperately. ~
*static*
Rus looks crestfallen as he collects his thoughts.
“I don’t even know if this will work, but it’s worth a shot. Hopefully your forge will be able to relay the message. And please, I do hope you make it here soon. We’re running out of time.”
*static*
In the distance you see a dune buggy tears across the unformed dreaming towards the island. As your focus returns to the island itself you hear a steady buzz spread across it as local troglofaunal beasts begin their nightly hunt.~
*static*
Rus looks crestfallen as he collects his thoughts.
“I don’t even know if this will work, but it’s worth a shot. Hopefully your forge will be able to relay the message. And please, I do hope you make it here soon. We’re running out of time.”
*static*
In the distance you see a dune buggy tears across the unformed dreaming towards the island. As your focus returns to the island itself you hear a steady buzz spread across it as local troglofaunal beasts begin their nightly hunt.~
