You are falling.

At first, there is nothing. Only a weightless descent through darkness, the rush of air, the flutter of any loose garments you were wearing. Then your mind wakes, fumbling for the shape of your consciousness, clawing back the threads of who you are. Your identity returns slowly, untangling itself from half-remembered parts of other people’s lives, their memories, their wants and dreams.

Visions surface.

Above you, or perhaps below, three gods stand upside down upon the curve of a paper moon: Phobos, Anubis, Khonsu. Their hands joined in secret council. Their shadows bleed like ink across the stars.

Another vision intrudes—lovers locked in desperate embrace, tumbling into a lake of black glass. They fall feet-first, vanishing beneath the water with barely a ripple. First Baldr and Nanna. Then Achilles and Patroclus. Others follow in a mournful procession: Bast, Artemis, Mimir, Poseidon, Diophase, Väinämöinen. Their faces flicker past, each more familiar than they were when you only knew them as stories. Each swallowed by the lake.
You are dragged onward.

Mount Olympus looms, its peak inverted like a reflection in the still water. In its shadow, five figures clash. Not graceful dancers, but frantic combatants, their movements jerky and desperate. Each wields nothing but a length of tree branch, swung as though it were a blade in some child’s war.
You recognize them—at least, you think you do.

Athena, though her face is lined and weary, her armor dulled by centuries.

Thor, his frame broad but bowed, the weight of years carved into his shoulders.

Loki, older still, his grin a pale echo of what it once was, eyes hollow with mischief gone to rot.

The fourth must be Ares. The resemblance to Phobos and Deimos is unmistakable in the hard angles of his face and the fury etched into every movement.
The fifth is stranger still. A Tamara—catfolk—barely a woman with the youth not yet gone from her face, yet hardened by struggle. Her golden fur is matted, her armor a scavenged patchwork, its steel lacquered with blood. Yet in her eyes burns the certainty of an executioner.

Their brawl swirls beneath the mountain’s shadow, chaotic and unresolved. Then, without warning, a radiance erupts from Olympus’s heart. The light is blinding, absolute. Their silhouettes freeze, seared into your vision like charcoal smudges. A heartbeat later, even their shadows are gone, devoured by brilliance.~

Drifting into focus through a canopy of thick forest trees you begin the see the silhouette of a small building.

Its windows emanate light and the sound of overlapping voices can be heard carrying on the wind. Pulling in closer to the building, you realize you are on the Hope, gazing into the main structure where countless battle plans, war stories, tears, and occasional bloodshed have been held. Standing guard by the door are a few members of the Compass Rose, Templars and Warbringers adorned in warm clothing on such a chilled night. Their vigilant gaze scanning across the forest clearing for any potential dangers. As your vision continues to travel up through an open window, you see a flood of beings of all kinds mingling and chatting, some even holding small trays of snack food or a bowl of soup.

Members of the Talon clan stand huddled about, standing near bright warm lights and small spaces of heat. A few Arcadians stroll across the halls and into the main hall, some anthropomorphic and some almost indistinguishable from regular creatures of the woods. Citizens of the Hope from when you first came to the island, all those moons ago, are guiding folks out of the halls and sitting among the crowd. A few of the faces from the soup kitchen, the one started by the Adherents, help serve food and drink to all of the folks wandering through. Following behind a few of the last people to squeeze themselves inside the main hall where rows of seats have been placed for them, you see a small stage has been made towards the back of the room. A podium, hastily built but sturdy enough to stay up on its own, hosts a microphone. A set of speakers sit in the corners of the room to travel the easiest and ensure all present can hear. There, walking up to the podium, a small bead of sweat trailing down the side of his forehead, is the Soldier.

“HelLOoo!” The speakers' reverb, static and high pitch frequency scratch into your ears, and the ears of all those in attendance. Soldier’s face emotes in a way you’re…not entirely sure you've seen him do before? It's a mix of fear and…nervousness? Coughing a few times in an attempt to clear it of nothing, he tries again. 

“Sorry, sorry about that. Uh, let me try again. Hello, everyone who calls Hope home. Er..even if it's a bit of a temporary one.” He pans across the crowd to see the mix of Arcadians in the audience. Clearing his throat again. 

“Thank you all for uh..coming tonight. I really appreciate it. So uh, without further ado I’m just gonna get uh…get right into it.” Soldier pulls out a card from his pocket, an index card marked in writing that he could only he could decipher.

 “First up, as we all know, Hope has gotten quite crowded in the last few months. We got a great collection of people here, from all corners of the Dreaming, and uh it's been an honor to have you all here. I hope uh..hehe, pun intended, I hope that you have all found it hospitable and welcoming, no matter how long you stay. But, as you can imagine, that means a lot of different walks of life and ways of doing things all mixed together. Please, uh, if you could have some patience with one another if there’s any confusion. Normally I’d say to find a Dreamwalker if there’s a dispute or something, but I guess until they come back you can reach out to me. I’ll be uh…around.”

He taps the card against the table, almost to shuffle the cards but there is just one.

A few members of the audience nod and a few claps are heard amongst the crowd. Looking up and around the group, Soldier takes another quick glance down on the card to see the next point listed.

A silent whisper under his breath you can faintly hear “man, why isn’t Harmony or Chaos around for this. They’d handle this so much better…”

“Next point I have is uh, well addressing the actual elephant..” he gestures to the back. A large elephant-like humanoid stands in the back wall, nervously looking around. “And other animals in the room. The Arcadians that are living with us do have members among their group that are not human-adjacent, they will look pretty much identically to wild life here on Hope, and we obviously want to keep any accidents down to 0 if we can. So uh, we will have some marked areas of the Hope’s forest and trails where Arcadians will be living. If you have any hunting or food needs, please stay out of the marked areas. I guess maybe just…ask the animal if its sentient or not? Just be courteous, is all I am saying.” He trails off again. A few of the Hope residents look about the Arcadians, nodding and making small talk. Generally, it seems the people of the Hope have embraced the various folk who have wound up here. 
“Okay, so uh…last point of order...” 

WHOOSH.

The doors to the main building swing open, a set of figures rushing inside. Those in attendance turn to see who has entered. The Soldier brandished a weapon at his side, caught off guard by the sudden entrance of these late arrivals. 

“We are so terribly sorry to interrupt this little town hall you have got going on, Soldier…” The figure leading this group speaks up. They are a male figure in a black and green jacket and a jeff cap atop their head. A symbol of a black rose stitched into the right breast pocket of their jacket.

The figure continued. 

“My name is Arbiter Berring. I am here with news that a dangerous criminal who was to be transported to the Avalon Ascendancy has gone missing and possibly escaped. He may be here aboard the Hope, and we wanted to know if anyone has seen anything or anyone strange around here.”

He turned to address the group. Talon clan lizardkin, various Arcadian beastfolk, a few denizens of the Dreaming, a mix of folks from even other factions in the waiting.

​"Or  perhaps someone acting suspicious.”~
​

As your vision shifts and twists you hear a conversation first.

“So from what I understand. This is the first piece of true new land to come from the unformed dreaming."

A man with long black hair and a reflective pair of aviators sits at a desk reviewing a document.

"That's right sir... uhhh Law." Across from the ashir sat a thin Arbiter in an ill fitting suit.

"It still has a miasma coming off of it and was the stronghold of the nightmares and you want to" Law shifts a few pieces of paper "land a force on the island?”

The Arbiter nodded fearfully.

The space is a small command office, a map of the dreaming laid out on a table. Small standees and objects litter the surface marking the locations of various ships, allies, and other assets. A single overhead light illuminates the room, casting long reaching shadows out towards the walls and door. 

Law speaks up once again setting the document aside for the time being. “While I understand your plan, this seems to be a high risk for such an undertaking. Not only is there the logistical task of getting forces organized, but there's an unknown amount of enemy presence not to mention the massively hazardous environment created by the miasma. Best case scenario we would need to utilize a massive amount of resources reserved for other problems around the dreaming. Worst case scenario the body toll could cripple critical defense locations across the dreaming risking a devastating retaliation." Pulling his aviators off his face, he pinches the bridge of his nose for a second in contemplation. 

The Arbiter shifts uncomfortably in their seat. "I understand Sir... Law... Mr. Law... Sir." 

They stand up and begin gathering their notes. 

"Thank you for your time and the frank review of my report."

 "You aren't dismissed" Law's voice is cold and his eyes are fixed on the young Arbiter. "Sit down," He said, slipping his aviators back on.

The Arbiter's knees buckled in fear as they fell back into their chair. 

"Thank you. Now this" Law says gesturing with the report "is half of a plan. You are going to take it to Klaus" Law continues, scribbling something on the front sheet of the report "and work with him to get forces mobilized." 

"What about the massive resources and strain on the organization?" 

"That's the other half of the plan. My half of the plan. I have a vague idea of how to get you a safe landing zone. Me and a team will drop onto the island and clear out as much miasma as we can. Hopefully we can take some leadership out while we're out there. It'll be a dangerous mission, anyone the Compass Rose could provide likely wouldn't make it through the mission intact." a small smirk spreads across Law's face "But luckily for us the Dreamwalkers have never been deterred by something as trivial as a little bit of dying."~

You hear the gentle slap of waves against the side of a boat.

Your vision comes into focus on a ship bobbing in an Atlantean ocean. It’s a decently sized fishing boat, could be comfortably run by a crew of about 4 or 5 sailors but with plenty of room for cargo. Gaius looks over the bow of the ship down into the dark ocean below, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

“Taking a look to see how the expedition is going to turn out for us?” Joked Lady Eel as she came up on his right.

“Oh absolutely, I foresee a successful trip with massive riches for all involved!” Gaius responded holding one hand to his head and the other outstretched to the ocean before breaking into a small chuckle “that’s what people want to hear when they come to fortune tellers, right?”

A small look of disappointment came across Lady Eel’s face “And here I thought I could hire you as both a Stormcaller and a Farseer, Pity.”

Gaius quickly took note of the mild disappointment in her voice and dropped the joke immediately “wait, there are people who can actually divine prophecy here?”

A small amount of confusion crosses Lady Eel’s face as your attention is pulled into the water.

Diving down into the depths you quickly lose sight of the boat. Your vision begins to go black and all sound becomes dampened as you rush past more and more water. For a second you can’t tell if the vision had ended or if you were still diving. Then, suddenly, you stop.

Ahead you see a small light wink into existence. It bobs slightly, dancing in the distance. It illuminates some of the ancient rockwork strewn around the ocean floor as you feel drawn closer to it. Just as you get close enough to investigate this mesmerizing light you see a mouth of sharp teeth materialize right in front of you. As the maw opens to take a bite the vision quickly shifts.~

A small box slides off a shelf, the sound of it striking the floor echoing through your mind...

Sedia’s face swims into view, looking down at you with wary suspicion. “Okay, okay…you don’t have to give me a heart attack.” She picks up the box and the vision pulls back to follow her as she takes it to a nearby table. Something’s not quite right, a single sour note in a symphony, but the deck in the box has Sedia’s full attention. While it’s the same candy-colored iridescent hue as the one she normally uses, this deck is much thicker, the box older. But it shuffles just the same.

“You haven’t wanted to talk in years. What changed?”

In answer, a card flies from the deck. The Moon Reversed. “Illusion fades. The truth is revealed.”

You see three grinning faces, their smiles mirroring the crescent moon. Whispers in the shadows. A fate foretold but not understood until it was too late. And under the moonlight, a predator stirs--

Sedia winces as the room comes back into focus, but carries on shuffling as if she’s used to this. “Tell me more.”

Another card flips out of the deck. The Lovers. Your vision swims again: 

You hang suspended in midair above a pool of inky blackness. Somewhere between day and night, life and death, victory and defeat. The endless darkness threatens to swallow you, just as it has so many others. But before it can, you feel hands grabbing you and hauling you back to the surface of reality.

“A choice to make. Stand together, or fall separately.” You feel that note of wrongness crescendo for a brief moment and Sedia casts a wary eye out the window. A fog is rolling in, a harbinger of things to come.

There’s an urgency to the way she resumes shuffling but even the deck seems to sense to shift in the atmosphere. It seems to have nothing further to say for a long moment before Sedia stops mid-shuffle and fishes out another card. Five of Wands Reversed. The Soul Forge guides you closer to the card until it fills your vision, the figures taking on familiar faces until a searing light obliterates everything.

—not everything, something clings violently to life, claws catching at your clothes your hair your heart--

You’re back in the room. If possible, Sedia seems even paler than normal. She puts the deck back in its box with careful, deliberate movements. Like the visions might come again if it’s disturbed.

“Even the strongest fire will die when there’s nothing left to burn. But the embers…if left alone, they risk reigniting–”

Somewhere, something snaps.

“–and it’s too late to stop it.”

This time, there’s no answering revelation, only the distant chorus of screams in total darkness.~

The Soulforge leads your vision back through the mists of time.

Under the cloak of darkness, two figures are leaving a cave, though the opening is small and somewhat hidden to begin with. The two silently look at each other before making intricate movements tracing symbols in the air. Complicated glyphs form and create a seamless illusion of an unbroken wall of rock. No entrance to be seen. 

Their hoods slip, as Heka and Horus nod to each other, then leave in separate directions. 

Moments after the pair leave your view, a giant ibis lands in front of the illusory wall. The bird seemed to fuss near the opening briefly before transforming into an average man with forget-me-nots on sky blue robes. With an offhand wave of his hand the hidden sigils of Heka and Horus are illuminated over the cave mouth. He smiled fondly and then went to work carefully rearranging and adding more glyphs to the threshold. 

As he finished the closing briefly flashed a pattern in the same sky blue as his robe.

“Friends of Bast, speak the solution and enter.”~

Elsewhere.

Far from the Great halls one would expect to find someone of her station, a woman with royal blue hair and a crown reminiscent of a helm, held a small unassuming statue in her hands. She was standing in freshly tilled soil, in a realm that should have been hers. But the deadlock with Poseidon allowed Zeus to claim it as his own, which he then gifted to Hera.

Athena cast a plea into the statue. “Diomedes, Patroclus. To those who believed in me when no others did. May your trust and sacrifice save this realm when the time comes.”

She allowed the statue to float out of her hands, pouring more of her power into the momento. It disappeared into the night, until it would be needed most.~

Your mind drifts to the present. To recent events.

Dreaming of the past was different. It arrived like being immersed in a warm bath, soothing and seductive in its comfort.

When the Soulforge called, you remember the Cave of Time rising around you, its walls smoothed by ages gone. The Ouroboros was born here, and its remains were returned here to be reborn, and this created the surge of magic that called to you.

One of the walls had rippled with magic, shaping into the image of a tall man, radiant with sunlight and cradling three tablets. You willed yourself to step into the picture, neither awake nor asleep, suspended somewhere inbetween.

Your body relaxed then broke apart into light. Your unconscious mind drifted like a passenger while your conscious identity emptied, hollow and waiting. Whims and Secrets flooded in, followed by fragments of knowledge that were not your own. When sensation returned, you felt your feet on stone. A castle took shape around you. You walked its halls without hunger or thirst, needless of anything, because here you were not yourself at all—only a story not yet told.

Waking from the past was a shock, like breaking the surface of icy water. You drag in a breath of sharp, cold air.

You are still in darkness, but awake. Solid. Real.

Tendrils writhe at the corners of your sight, twisting, retreating, then coiling closer again. Something curls in your chest, visceral and immediate. Your senses scream with one instinct asking you to run away, hide from it, or fight for your life. The instinct of Fear. You can smell your fears, taste them become bitter on your tongue, hear them whisper just behind your ear.

A light appears in the distance. Some sort of roadside inn, its wooden frame glowing warm against the dark, impossibly intact as though it alone were spared. Within, you can feel the Soulfire Hearth burning steady and bright, defying the shadows pressing in.

You take a step toward it. The streets around you are empty. Graffiti scrawled across broken walls becomes visible as you get closer to the inn.

VANQUISH THE LIGHT AND ALL HOPE.

FEAR BECOMES US AND WE BECOME FEAR.

ALL HAIL LORD PHOBOS.

The dreaming itself had shifted while you lay in slumber—seasons churned and passed.

You had been gone two weeks.
​
Reverie is silent. The city holds its breath, waiting.~