Howdy, Stranger!
Categories
- 3.7K All Categories
- 3K The Midnight Age
- 757 Announce posts
- 125 Newbies
- 6 Class Guides
- 804 Harpy's Head Tavern
- 57 Echo Canyon
- 310 Self-Affirmations
- 163 Town Crier
- 135 The Exchange
- 167 Sparring Grounds
- Combat Guides
- 30 Combat Logs
- 188 Idea Box
- 9 Classleads
- 578 Roleplay Logs
- 107 Aetolia Development
- 5 The Void
- 744 Miscellaneous
- 9 Announcements
- 417 OOC Chat
- 217 Tech Talk
- 47 Scripts
Looking for more active discussion? Join our Discord at https://discord.gg/x2s7fY6
Chasing dreams and facing Nightmares
So, I've been meaning to put this up for a while, but been a bit lazy to do all the editing. But with everyone recent interest I've been a bit more motivated. Yay! At any rate, this took place back last December.
Part 1: Guidance
Setup: Paz has reached Tekal and in the process has run into some issues with his dreams. He has spoke with several friends about it prior to this series of events, but without much actual progress. Unfortunatly I have lost those logs, but a thank you to @Kerryn and @Niavex for thier parts preceding. In this, he meets with @Emelle , seeking her guidance.
You whisper psychically into Emelle's mind, "My apologies for the interruption, but do you have a moment? I was hoping to return your teacup to you, and also ifyou have the time to perhaps get some advice...."
Emelle's psychic whisper trails through your mind, "It is not an interruption. I have time."
You whisper psychically into Emelle's mind, "Are you at your shop? if so would it be alright for me to meet you there?"
Emelle's psychic whisper trails through your mind, "Aye, please."
---MOVING---
A dim smoker's den.
A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. A dark-featured woman with a face tattoo moves about, tending to the shop and its patrons. Sitting at a far end of the counter is a nondescript deposit box. The intricate designs of a Caentoi rug cover the floor. There are 11 serpent scrolls here. A tall brass hookah with ivory silk trimming stands on the counter. Emelle sits at the counter smoking a cigarette. You see a sign here instructing you that WARES is the command to see what is for sale. You see exits leading northwest (open pine door) and down (closed pine door).
A dark-featured woman with a face tattoo pauses in her work, flashing her teeth in a grin as she greets Pazradym. "Hello."
You have emoted: Pazradym presses the palm of his left hand against the clenched fist of his right and bows respectfully to you.
Emelle nods her head at you.
Waving you over, Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says, "Come, sit."
She is an athletic Yeleni of Tsol'aa heritage. Her visible eye, the left, is the color of pale green jade stone; the remainder of her unremarkable countenance includes a small nose, thin lips, and age written in faint trails of crow's feet. Thick chestnut hair shocked with white crowds her face and tumbles to her waist in untamed waves prone to tangling. Pointed ears protrude from the sides of her head, each pierced several times with an assortment of metal bars and rings dangling unusual stones. She is lithe and willowy, with a frame that might befit a dancer if not for the slouch in her shoulders, and long fingers robbed of any potential grace by their calluses. Ungulate legs with cloven hooves account for the better part of her height, but she is of merely average stature. The faint odor of cloves and sweet tobacco smoke clings to her hair and clothes. She walks with the blessing of Omei.
(covering her right eye) : a luminous eyepatch
(on a silver chain around her neck) : an amber pendant with a moth inclusion
(peeking from the cuff of her left sleeve) : a black-inked tattoo of a jagged Q
(doubled around her left wrist) : a nightmarish length of prayer beads
(on her left ring finger) : a nautilite and violanthe band
(reaching her hips) : a tunic of plum and bronze brocade
(loosely clinging to her legs) : a pair of sable linen pants
(left unbuttoned) : a simple, earthy jacket
(shouldered, a bone shaft sticking out) : a brushed suede pack
You have emoted: Pazradym smiles, nodding his head in acceptance, "My thanks, but first..." He rummages around in his pack for a moment.
You take a gold-repaired ceramic glass from a sturdy traveler's satchel.
You give a gold-repaired ceramic glass to Emelle.
You say, "My apologies for wandering off last time with it...."
"Ah. Thank you." Emelle takes the cup and slips it into a brushed suede pack. "I did not miss it," she tells you, her lips quirking into a half-smile.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym takes a seat near Emelle, a thoughtful look on his face as if struggling to find the right words to continue for a moment.
You have emoted: Pazradym after a moment simply shakes his head, reverting back to his prior statement, "perhaps it was not missed but it does not excuse my carelessness. But I am glad to return it."
A musical jangling joins with the other noise of the shop as a dark-featured woman with a face tattoo slips through the room, adjusting and refilling the displays.
Emelle settles into the silence, leaning her weight against the counter on a folded arm. Reaching over, she ashes her cigarette into a waiting dish, watching you.
Movement and conversation among the other patrons coalesces into a steady hum around you.
You have emoted: Pazradym , feeling Emelle's eye upon him, rubs the back of his neck nervously, He mutters, as if to himself. "ah, curse my awkwardness.... I wanted to ask your thoughts on something, but now that I'm here I find it difficult to find where to begin."
"Begin at the beginning," Emelle advises you as though it were a simple matter.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym chuckles to himself, "Yes, that would probably be best. I, well that is, rather," He sighs, cursing softly, before taking a slow, controlled breath to recenter himself. "When we last met, you asked me what I dreamed about. I answered but perhaps not I did not answer as I should have. if it is acceptable, may I ask you a related question?"
Emelle's lips twitch in a little surprise of a smile. She rakes some unruly hair back behind an ear, where it sort of stays, and nods once. "Of course."
You have emoted: Pazradym nods in thanks before continuing, "How do you experience your dreams? Do they interact with all your senses? Do you hear them as well as see? And perhaps most importantly, at least in my case, do you see them in color?"
Fragrant smoke eddies through the room.
You have emoted: Pazradym leans forward, in obvious anticipation of Emelle's answer.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
Emelle rests her smoking hand against the bar, where a lazy curl of smoke uncoils from the end of her cigarette. "I have different kinds of dreams," she answers you after a moment. "Some times they are all of the senses. Some times I am hearing things in the dark. --but they have always had color, aye."
As a sort of afterthought, Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says, "Even when I was blind."
It is now dawn on Tisday, the 16th of Variach, year 463 of the Midnight Age.
You have emoted: Pazradym chuckles softly to himself in amazement, but brushes a thought aside before he continues " I too, dream in color, always. In truth my dreams have often been almost over saturated, containing more than I perceive when waking. The color in particular was important to me, as ever since my, uhm, incident, I have been colorblind." He rambles off on a tangent for a moment, "Well, I was always colorblind, but just in the one eye. When I lost the good one, well..." He quickly coughs returning to the point. "The point is, I guess I've always considered it a blessing, but lately, ever since I ascended to my Tekal form, I have been unable to sleep, and thus dream in truth. I have attempted to supplement this with the use of myrrh, but perhaps because of my waking limitations, they have been, diminished, muddled by my usual sight."
Lin has laid eyes upon Heva, the Speaker, and perished.
You say, "Perhaps it is selfish or silly of me... but I truly desire to find a way to regain my dreams prior vividness..."
Emelle tilts her head, considering you. A long moment passes by in silence. "Have you been to the Seer's Wood, yet?" she asks you then, raising her cigarette again.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym nods quickly, a bit sheepish, "Yes, though just in passing. I was exploring that area and found myself lost there for a time."
A blaze of golden light erupts from the peak of Skythrone as dawn falls upon Sapience, azure-tinged essence coruscating into the firmament above as it banishes the darkening clouds that still rage with the threat of a storm. A voice radiates across the continent, words as loud as a clap of thunder and pressing down upon all of existence, "BE NOT." With a roar, Heva, the Speaker vanishes into nothingness, leaving only trails of azure light in its wake. As the god departs, the whole of Aetolia seems to realign itself once more and a strange peace fills the heavens.
Emelle had opened her mouth to speak, but as the voice of One more powerful resonates across the world, she doesn't.
You have emoted: Pazradym looks suddenly upwards as if trying to look through the ceiling, "Odd..."
"Mm." Emelle stares toward the entrance to the shop for a while before her attention returns to you. "Was your sight the same in the Wood as it is here?" she asks.
You have emoted: Pazradym tilts his head slightly, closing his eye in thought, as he attempts to recall the experience. "It was sometime ago, but I believe so?"
You say, "I do recall things feeling a bit, well, off, as though there was more than what I could sense. It was a strange place that I remember wanting to spend more time in, but I left fairly quickly, unsure of my welcome."
"The Wood is part of Dream," Emelle tells you, leaning her weight against the counter. "Closer to dreaming than myrrh, I think. Maybe you can see differently, there." Her gaze appraises your face. "What else is difference, since you transcended?"
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym gives a quick nod, leaning back and raising a hand to his lips, chasing a thought. "I wonder what would happen if I used myrrh while there, or even just tried sleeping." He quickly shakes away the questions, before taking a moment to ponder Emelle's question of him. "Nothing, that I wasn't told to expect at least. The physical changes of course, " He motions quickly over his reddish grey skin. "And the general feeling of emptiness and longing." A sheepish look once again creeps over him. "To be honest, I have rather welcomed it. But, I imagine that you were looking for something else?"
Emelle's shoulders roll in a shrug, and she shakes her head. "Only for truth," she answers with a brief smile. Then, abruptly, her smile fades, and she asks you: "Have you thought of transcending this form? Maybe dreaming would return to you."
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym gives a small smile, "I have but that has led me to yet another conundrum. I have found myself unable to decided which path to pursue. To be honest, I have often let my dreams influence my thoughts on such major things, or at least to guide them somewhat. But with them as they are…" He trails off, waving a hand as if to scatter the hanging words. "Another I spoke with about this had a similar suggestion, but I didn't mention my confusion on how to proceed. Perhaps I should have..."
Movement and conversation among the other patrons coalesces into a steady hum around you.
"Mm." Emelle's lips pull into a partial smile. "Maybe that is your challenge," she muses as she ashes her cigarette with a practiced flick of her thumb. "To decide this awake." She lofts an eyebrow.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym gets a surprised look. "I... " He stops for a moment, furrowing his brow. "I hadn't thought of that. It would be well out of my previous experience, but perhaps that is entirely the point."
"Or maybe you do not decide," Emelle speculates now, absently tapping her cigarette against the side of the ash bowl. "You could come to it, and see what happens to your essence."
You have emoted: Pazradym nods in affirmation, a slight smile on his lips. "I have often wondered that myself. I have well exceed the point where I could force the change myself, but I have been left to wonder, if well..." Again he drifts off, a questioning looking upon him.
Emelle settles into the silence, watching you with interest.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym pauses for a moment, then chuckles to himself, "You know if you had asked me a few years ago, I would have told you I was a person who held little attachment to the Divines. These days, however, fate seems full of conviction to make me eat my words. There's probably something to be learned there."
Emelle chuckles, too. "Aye," she agrees, bobbing a nod. "It is good to allow your mind to change. Any one who is too certain about a thing cannot see fully."
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
It is now noon on Tisday, the 16th of Variach, year 463 of the Midnight Age.
You have emoted: Pazradym still chuckling to himself, lets a smirk creep upon him. "I can't find any fault in logic like that. But my life does seems to always be full of change, perhaps not sudden, but irrevocable none the less. It seems to me, to simply be the way of things, and who am I to argue with such."
"Aye. It is most of what I have known," Emelle agrees, nodding some. Her gaze lingers on your smirk for a moment before it slides to the ash bowl, which she is steadily filling.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding. The final part of Emelle's cigarette burns away to ash.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
Emelle stamps out the end of her cigarette in the bowl.
You have emoted: Pazradym starts to speak again, but catches himself, lost in a thought for a moment. "May I ask you a, uhm, that is, a personal question?"
Nodding once, Emelle rakes her fingers through her hair, pulling some of it back from her face. "Aye?"
Soft light from a nearby building illuminates the village streets in the dark of night.
You have emoted: Pazradym blushes slightly, obviously more than a little embarrassed to be prying, "When did you know you wanted to serve the Divine? And what led to such?"
Fragrant smoke eddies through the room.
"Ah." Emelle absently rubs a hand at the back of her neck. "--many people have asked me what led to my service, but I do not know if I have been asked when I decided. I do not know if I did." She folds her arms on the counter and leans on them, letting her gaze wander the room as she thinks. "Or, not at the beginning."
Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says to you, "I came to Her many years ago because I had nightmares. Frightening nightmares that I did not wake up from, some times."
Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says to you, "I had once slept for a century. Trapped."
You have emoted: Pazradym listens intently, once again leaning forward, propping himself up on an elbow. He gets a strange look at the mention of the prolonged nightmares, but remains quiet.
Emelle continues, "When I woke up after that, I felt my life had changed. What I had done before did not make sense to me. --not much made sense to me. I wanted to understand. So I searched for Her."
You have emoted: Pazradym wears a distant look for a moment, before replying quickly. "and your search? It led to fruition I guess?"
"Aye." Emelle nods once. "I was led to a priestess of Hers, and then to Her. I joined Her congregation, and I became a priestess, years later," she tells you with a slight smile. "But I do not know if I /chose/ it. I served Her because it gave me purpose. I felt I was meant to do it."
Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says to you, "I have served Her for much of my life, now. There was a time that I left, some years ago. I did decide, then. To return to Her."
You have emoted: Pazradym closes his eye for a moment, giving a slow nod, "I see." He looks up, in an attempt to meet Emelle's gaze, though falling just short. "If I may, that calling you felt, all those years ago, is it something you could put into words?"
Emelle's eye is on you, as close to meeting your stare as is possible, given your avoidance. She chuckles. "Words are not enough to describe some things."
You have emoted: Pazradym nods, as if expecting the answer, before finally looking up fully to meet Emelle's gaze. "I think i understand that. My thanks for sharing your history." He is silent for a moment before drawing a deep breath, sitting back and brushing his clothes straight.
Emelle smiles at you. The expression is mild, but full, and it eases some of the age from her features. "It was good to speak with you. But I am tired, now."
You have emoted: Pazradym chuckles to himself as he stands up quickly, "As am I, I fear. It’s funny though, it seems every time I speak with you it delves on much longer than I had originally intended. Thank you for all your time."
You say, "And your counsel of course. I have much to think on."
Emelle chuckles. "I do not have so much to say, usually," she remarks, sliding from her stool. She rounds the bar, pausing for a moment near you. "But your questions are good." Smiling briefly, she bows her head in a nod. "Take care. We will speak again soon, I think." And she moves off, winding through the cramped shop and slipping out into the street.
Emelle's body begins to vibrate rapidly and blur, her motions leaving behind ghostly trails.
Emelle leaves to the northwest.
You have emoted: Pazradym sits back down for just a moment giving a long sigh, before once again chuckling to himself and standing, moving to the exit.
Editted: Cut out some of the "background noise" for easier reading.
Part 1: Guidance
Setup: Paz has reached Tekal and in the process has run into some issues with his dreams. He has spoke with several friends about it prior to this series of events, but without much actual progress. Unfortunatly I have lost those logs, but a thank you to @Kerryn and @Niavex for thier parts preceding. In this, he meets with @Emelle , seeking her guidance.
You whisper psychically into Emelle's mind, "My apologies for the interruption, but do you have a moment? I was hoping to return your teacup to you, and also ifyou have the time to perhaps get some advice...."
Emelle's psychic whisper trails through your mind, "It is not an interruption. I have time."
You whisper psychically into Emelle's mind, "Are you at your shop? if so would it be alright for me to meet you there?"
Emelle's psychic whisper trails through your mind, "Aye, please."
---MOVING---
A dim smoker's den.
A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. A dark-featured woman with a face tattoo moves about, tending to the shop and its patrons. Sitting at a far end of the counter is a nondescript deposit box. The intricate designs of a Caentoi rug cover the floor. There are 11 serpent scrolls here. A tall brass hookah with ivory silk trimming stands on the counter. Emelle sits at the counter smoking a cigarette. You see a sign here instructing you that WARES is the command to see what is for sale. You see exits leading northwest (open pine door) and down (closed pine door).
A dark-featured woman with a face tattoo pauses in her work, flashing her teeth in a grin as she greets Pazradym. "Hello."
You have emoted: Pazradym presses the palm of his left hand against the clenched fist of his right and bows respectfully to you.
Emelle nods her head at you.
Waving you over, Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says, "Come, sit."
She is an athletic Yeleni of Tsol'aa heritage. Her visible eye, the left, is the color of pale green jade stone; the remainder of her unremarkable countenance includes a small nose, thin lips, and age written in faint trails of crow's feet. Thick chestnut hair shocked with white crowds her face and tumbles to her waist in untamed waves prone to tangling. Pointed ears protrude from the sides of her head, each pierced several times with an assortment of metal bars and rings dangling unusual stones. She is lithe and willowy, with a frame that might befit a dancer if not for the slouch in her shoulders, and long fingers robbed of any potential grace by their calluses. Ungulate legs with cloven hooves account for the better part of her height, but she is of merely average stature. The faint odor of cloves and sweet tobacco smoke clings to her hair and clothes. She walks with the blessing of Omei.
(covering her right eye) : a luminous eyepatch
(on a silver chain around her neck) : an amber pendant with a moth inclusion
(peeking from the cuff of her left sleeve) : a black-inked tattoo of a jagged Q
(doubled around her left wrist) : a nightmarish length of prayer beads
(on her left ring finger) : a nautilite and violanthe band
(reaching her hips) : a tunic of plum and bronze brocade
(loosely clinging to her legs) : a pair of sable linen pants
(left unbuttoned) : a simple, earthy jacket
(shouldered, a bone shaft sticking out) : a brushed suede pack
You have emoted: Pazradym smiles, nodding his head in acceptance, "My thanks, but first..." He rummages around in his pack for a moment.
You take a gold-repaired ceramic glass from a sturdy traveler's satchel.
You give a gold-repaired ceramic glass to Emelle.
You say, "My apologies for wandering off last time with it...."
"Ah. Thank you." Emelle takes the cup and slips it into a brushed suede pack. "I did not miss it," she tells you, her lips quirking into a half-smile.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym takes a seat near Emelle, a thoughtful look on his face as if struggling to find the right words to continue for a moment.
You have emoted: Pazradym after a moment simply shakes his head, reverting back to his prior statement, "perhaps it was not missed but it does not excuse my carelessness. But I am glad to return it."
A musical jangling joins with the other noise of the shop as a dark-featured woman with a face tattoo slips through the room, adjusting and refilling the displays.
Emelle settles into the silence, leaning her weight against the counter on a folded arm. Reaching over, she ashes her cigarette into a waiting dish, watching you.
Movement and conversation among the other patrons coalesces into a steady hum around you.
You have emoted: Pazradym , feeling Emelle's eye upon him, rubs the back of his neck nervously, He mutters, as if to himself. "ah, curse my awkwardness.... I wanted to ask your thoughts on something, but now that I'm here I find it difficult to find where to begin."
"Begin at the beginning," Emelle advises you as though it were a simple matter.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym chuckles to himself, "Yes, that would probably be best. I, well that is, rather," He sighs, cursing softly, before taking a slow, controlled breath to recenter himself. "When we last met, you asked me what I dreamed about. I answered but perhaps not I did not answer as I should have. if it is acceptable, may I ask you a related question?"
Emelle's lips twitch in a little surprise of a smile. She rakes some unruly hair back behind an ear, where it sort of stays, and nods once. "Of course."
You have emoted: Pazradym nods in thanks before continuing, "How do you experience your dreams? Do they interact with all your senses? Do you hear them as well as see? And perhaps most importantly, at least in my case, do you see them in color?"
Fragrant smoke eddies through the room.
You have emoted: Pazradym leans forward, in obvious anticipation of Emelle's answer.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
Emelle rests her smoking hand against the bar, where a lazy curl of smoke uncoils from the end of her cigarette. "I have different kinds of dreams," she answers you after a moment. "Some times they are all of the senses. Some times I am hearing things in the dark. --but they have always had color, aye."
As a sort of afterthought, Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says, "Even when I was blind."
It is now dawn on Tisday, the 16th of Variach, year 463 of the Midnight Age.
You have emoted: Pazradym chuckles softly to himself in amazement, but brushes a thought aside before he continues " I too, dream in color, always. In truth my dreams have often been almost over saturated, containing more than I perceive when waking. The color in particular was important to me, as ever since my, uhm, incident, I have been colorblind." He rambles off on a tangent for a moment, "Well, I was always colorblind, but just in the one eye. When I lost the good one, well..." He quickly coughs returning to the point. "The point is, I guess I've always considered it a blessing, but lately, ever since I ascended to my Tekal form, I have been unable to sleep, and thus dream in truth. I have attempted to supplement this with the use of myrrh, but perhaps because of my waking limitations, they have been, diminished, muddled by my usual sight."
Lin has laid eyes upon Heva, the Speaker, and perished.
You say, "Perhaps it is selfish or silly of me... but I truly desire to find a way to regain my dreams prior vividness..."
Emelle tilts her head, considering you. A long moment passes by in silence. "Have you been to the Seer's Wood, yet?" she asks you then, raising her cigarette again.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym nods quickly, a bit sheepish, "Yes, though just in passing. I was exploring that area and found myself lost there for a time."
A blaze of golden light erupts from the peak of Skythrone as dawn falls upon Sapience, azure-tinged essence coruscating into the firmament above as it banishes the darkening clouds that still rage with the threat of a storm. A voice radiates across the continent, words as loud as a clap of thunder and pressing down upon all of existence, "BE NOT." With a roar, Heva, the Speaker vanishes into nothingness, leaving only trails of azure light in its wake. As the god departs, the whole of Aetolia seems to realign itself once more and a strange peace fills the heavens.
Emelle had opened her mouth to speak, but as the voice of One more powerful resonates across the world, she doesn't.
You have emoted: Pazradym looks suddenly upwards as if trying to look through the ceiling, "Odd..."
"Mm." Emelle stares toward the entrance to the shop for a while before her attention returns to you. "Was your sight the same in the Wood as it is here?" she asks.
You have emoted: Pazradym tilts his head slightly, closing his eye in thought, as he attempts to recall the experience. "It was sometime ago, but I believe so?"
You say, "I do recall things feeling a bit, well, off, as though there was more than what I could sense. It was a strange place that I remember wanting to spend more time in, but I left fairly quickly, unsure of my welcome."
"The Wood is part of Dream," Emelle tells you, leaning her weight against the counter. "Closer to dreaming than myrrh, I think. Maybe you can see differently, there." Her gaze appraises your face. "What else is difference, since you transcended?"
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym gives a quick nod, leaning back and raising a hand to his lips, chasing a thought. "I wonder what would happen if I used myrrh while there, or even just tried sleeping." He quickly shakes away the questions, before taking a moment to ponder Emelle's question of him. "Nothing, that I wasn't told to expect at least. The physical changes of course, " He motions quickly over his reddish grey skin. "And the general feeling of emptiness and longing." A sheepish look once again creeps over him. "To be honest, I have rather welcomed it. But, I imagine that you were looking for something else?"
Emelle's shoulders roll in a shrug, and she shakes her head. "Only for truth," she answers with a brief smile. Then, abruptly, her smile fades, and she asks you: "Have you thought of transcending this form? Maybe dreaming would return to you."
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym gives a small smile, "I have but that has led me to yet another conundrum. I have found myself unable to decided which path to pursue. To be honest, I have often let my dreams influence my thoughts on such major things, or at least to guide them somewhat. But with them as they are…" He trails off, waving a hand as if to scatter the hanging words. "Another I spoke with about this had a similar suggestion, but I didn't mention my confusion on how to proceed. Perhaps I should have..."
Movement and conversation among the other patrons coalesces into a steady hum around you.
"Mm." Emelle's lips pull into a partial smile. "Maybe that is your challenge," she muses as she ashes her cigarette with a practiced flick of her thumb. "To decide this awake." She lofts an eyebrow.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym gets a surprised look. "I... " He stops for a moment, furrowing his brow. "I hadn't thought of that. It would be well out of my previous experience, but perhaps that is entirely the point."
"Or maybe you do not decide," Emelle speculates now, absently tapping her cigarette against the side of the ash bowl. "You could come to it, and see what happens to your essence."
You have emoted: Pazradym nods in affirmation, a slight smile on his lips. "I have often wondered that myself. I have well exceed the point where I could force the change myself, but I have been left to wonder, if well..." Again he drifts off, a questioning looking upon him.
Emelle settles into the silence, watching you with interest.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
You have emoted: Pazradym pauses for a moment, then chuckles to himself, "You know if you had asked me a few years ago, I would have told you I was a person who held little attachment to the Divines. These days, however, fate seems full of conviction to make me eat my words. There's probably something to be learned there."
Emelle chuckles, too. "Aye," she agrees, bobbing a nod. "It is good to allow your mind to change. Any one who is too certain about a thing cannot see fully."
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
It is now noon on Tisday, the 16th of Variach, year 463 of the Midnight Age.
You have emoted: Pazradym still chuckling to himself, lets a smirk creep upon him. "I can't find any fault in logic like that. But my life does seems to always be full of change, perhaps not sudden, but irrevocable none the less. It seems to me, to simply be the way of things, and who am I to argue with such."
"Aye. It is most of what I have known," Emelle agrees, nodding some. Her gaze lingers on your smirk for a moment before it slides to the ash bowl, which she is steadily filling.
Emelle takes a long drag from a lit thin black cigarette with red banding. The final part of Emelle's cigarette burns away to ash.
Emelle exhales a dark cloud of smoke, redolent with acrid scents.
Emelle stamps out the end of her cigarette in the bowl.
You have emoted: Pazradym starts to speak again, but catches himself, lost in a thought for a moment. "May I ask you a, uhm, that is, a personal question?"
Nodding once, Emelle rakes her fingers through her hair, pulling some of it back from her face. "Aye?"
Soft light from a nearby building illuminates the village streets in the dark of night.
You have emoted: Pazradym blushes slightly, obviously more than a little embarrassed to be prying, "When did you know you wanted to serve the Divine? And what led to such?"
Fragrant smoke eddies through the room.
"Ah." Emelle absently rubs a hand at the back of her neck. "--many people have asked me what led to my service, but I do not know if I have been asked when I decided. I do not know if I did." She folds her arms on the counter and leans on them, letting her gaze wander the room as she thinks. "Or, not at the beginning."
Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says to you, "I came to Her many years ago because I had nightmares. Frightening nightmares that I did not wake up from, some times."
Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says to you, "I had once slept for a century. Trapped."
You have emoted: Pazradym listens intently, once again leaning forward, propping himself up on an elbow. He gets a strange look at the mention of the prolonged nightmares, but remains quiet.
Emelle continues, "When I woke up after that, I felt my life had changed. What I had done before did not make sense to me. --not much made sense to me. I wanted to understand. So I searched for Her."
You have emoted: Pazradym wears a distant look for a moment, before replying quickly. "and your search? It led to fruition I guess?"
"Aye." Emelle nods once. "I was led to a priestess of Hers, and then to Her. I joined Her congregation, and I became a priestess, years later," she tells you with a slight smile. "But I do not know if I /chose/ it. I served Her because it gave me purpose. I felt I was meant to do it."
Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer says to you, "I have served Her for much of my life, now. There was a time that I left, some years ago. I did decide, then. To return to Her."
You have emoted: Pazradym closes his eye for a moment, giving a slow nod, "I see." He looks up, in an attempt to meet Emelle's gaze, though falling just short. "If I may, that calling you felt, all those years ago, is it something you could put into words?"
Emelle's eye is on you, as close to meeting your stare as is possible, given your avoidance. She chuckles. "Words are not enough to describe some things."
You have emoted: Pazradym nods, as if expecting the answer, before finally looking up fully to meet Emelle's gaze. "I think i understand that. My thanks for sharing your history." He is silent for a moment before drawing a deep breath, sitting back and brushing his clothes straight.
Emelle smiles at you. The expression is mild, but full, and it eases some of the age from her features. "It was good to speak with you. But I am tired, now."
You have emoted: Pazradym chuckles to himself as he stands up quickly, "As am I, I fear. It’s funny though, it seems every time I speak with you it delves on much longer than I had originally intended. Thank you for all your time."
You say, "And your counsel of course. I have much to think on."
Emelle chuckles. "I do not have so much to say, usually," she remarks, sliding from her stool. She rounds the bar, pausing for a moment near you. "But your questions are good." Smiling briefly, she bows her head in a nod. "Take care. We will speak again soon, I think." And she moves off, winding through the cramped shop and slipping out into the street.
Emelle's body begins to vibrate rapidly and blur, her motions leaving behind ghostly trails.
Emelle leaves to the northwest.
You have emoted: Pazradym sits back down for just a moment giving a long sigh, before once again chuckling to himself and standing, moving to the exit.
Editted: Cut out some of the "background noise" for easier reading.
By the divine might of Omei, you are restored to life.
Omei gives the corpse of a headless cadaver to you.
Omei offers you a quick wink.
Omei gives the corpse of a headless cadaver to you.
Omei offers you a quick wink.
3
Comments
Setup: Paz has been going through a checklist of ideas, attempting to gain back his dreams, but to no avail. This is the one of the final attempts. Paz has journeyed to the Seer's Wood as @Emelle suggested at their meeting, bringing with him everything he could think of to make an stronger connection to his dreams.
At the foot of a natural landbridge.
Rain pours down from the sky, the dawn's light filtering dimly through the cloud cover. The ground begins to rise here in a hill, though in places it can be avoided to access the river to the east. The grass grows thick and lush, red in color and spotted with geometric flowers. A large tree lies to the west, its gnarled roots poking up above the ground to show gleaming veins of silver in them. Tiny, bright yellow mushrooms grow all around the base of the tree, thriving in the compost its fallen leaves leave behind.
You see exits leading east, northwest, and up.
You have emoted: Pazradym clears a spot in the grass, kneeling down with a deep breath.
You open an octagonal, cone-shaped incense box.
You take a myrrh incense cone from an octagonal, cone-shaped incense box.
This small lump of dark grey incense is formed into an imperfect cone shape that allows for easy placement. It is scented with the pungent, woody fragrance of myrrh.
It has 11 weeks of usefulness left.
It weighs 5 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Emelle Tsai'len, the Seer.
A light rain wets your surroundings, falling pleasantly around you.
As you light a myrrh incense cone, you allow it to smolder for a moment before puffing out the burning flame.
You remove 1 myrrh, bringing the total in the cache to 492.
You eat a ball of myrrh gum.
Your thoughts drift elsewhere.
You have gained the daydream defence.
A lightning bolt streaks down from the skies, full of fury and anger.
The loud sound of thunder rolls through the skies, shaking the air around you.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
You drop a lit myrrh incense cone.
Occasional raindrops fall on your head as the drizzle continues.
The loud sound of thunder rolls through the skies, shaking the air around you.
You have emoted: Pazradym draws a deep breath of the incense, letting its scent flow into him.
--- Lots of Dreams
Your mind focuses back on the tasks at hand.
Your daydream defence has been stripped.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
You have emoted: Pazradym heaves a heavy sigh, exasperated. "I didn't think it would work, but I had to make the attempt before...."
Occasional raindrops fall on your head as the drizzle continues.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
A lightning bolt streaks down from the skies, full of fury and anger.
Am I ready for this.... I've tried all my other answers.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
A light rain wets your surroundings, falling pleasantly around you.
You have emoted: Pazradym adopts a lotus position, meditating on his task ahead.
A light rain wets your surroundings, falling pleasantly around you.
The loud sound of thunder rolls through the skies, shaking the air around you.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
You have emoted: Pazradym continues to clear his mind, attempting to set his fear aside.
A lightning bolt streaks down from the skies, full of fury and anger.
Occasional raindrops fall on your head as the drizzle continues.
The loud sound of thunder rolls through the skies, shaking the air around you.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
.
Lady Omei, Lady of Nightmares... I have my answer. I fear it, but perhaps that is just as intended.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
A lightning bolt streaks down from the skies, full of fury and anger.
A light rain wets your surroundings, falling pleasantly around you.
You have emoted: Pazradym continues to breath deep of the smoke, his eye closed to the world around him.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
A lightning bolt streaks down from the skies, full of fury and anger.
Occasional raindrops fall on your head as the drizzle continues.
I approached the problem backwards, I thought there was something wrong with my dreams, and asked questions to that effect. To late did I realize that my dreams come from you. How then could the fault lie there. The fault lies in me...
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
A lightning bolt streaks down from the skies, full of fury and anger.
Drops of rain fall to the ground from a sky grey with pregnant clouds.
My sight is the burden, robbing my world of hues. It has done this for years, but I accepted it in the waking world. Only when it began to affect your gifts to me did I become aware of how great a fault it truly is...
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
Drops of rain fall to the ground from a sky grey with pregnant clouds.
Morning prevails against the last vestiges of night as the sun rises higher in the sky, triumphant amidst the heavens.
Drops of rain fall to the ground from a sky grey with pregnant clouds.
You have emoted: Pazradym , feeling the first rays of the sun upon his face, opens his eye to let in the light, filled with the knowledge that it may be his last to see. He pauses for a long moment basking in it.
You have emoted: Pazradym reaches into his shirt, drawing forth his dagger, rolling it over carefully in his hands.
You start to wield a jewel-encrusted sacrificial dagger in your left hand.
I hope I have have found the right answer.....
You have emoted: Pazradym continues to roll the dagger in his palms, in a quiet mediation.
You take a myrrh incense cone from an octagonal, cone-shaped incense box.
As you light a myrrh incense cone, you allow it to smolder for a moment before puffing out the burning flame.
You drop a lit myrrh incense cone.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
---Time passing in meditation
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting its rays more intensely upon the land as it nears its zenith.
A thin band of smoke uncoils from the incense cone as it burns, perfuming the air with the pungent aroma of myrrh.
Noon rules the land, the radiance of the sun touching all that lies beneath it.
It is now noon on Tisday, the 22nd of Variach, year 463 of the Midnight Age.
You catch a shadow stirring from the corner of your eye as an Omeiian temple guard solidifies silently into existence before you.
An Omeiian temple guard's body disperses in a plume of some bizarre, smoke-like substance that wafts away with the breeze.
You have emoted: Pazradym sighs, standing. tucking the dagger back into his shirt.
You cease wielding a jewel-encrusted sacrificial dagger in your left hand.
I will make my preparations....
Omei gives the corpse of a headless cadaver to you.
Omei offers you a quick wink.
Setup: Paz has is hunting elementals in his haven, offering essence to @Omei , in preparation of a greater offering, one he hopes will grant him his dreams back, when he is suddenly and unexpectedly put to sleep and pulled to a strange location.
Your exhausted mind can stay awake no longer, and you fall into a deep sleep.
You are afflicted with asleep.
An unusually vivid dream swirls through your sleeping mind, and you have the distinct impression of movement.
Floating within a fathomless void.
You find the weather around you imperceptible.
There are no obvious exits.
---Dreams
You open your eyes and stretch languidly, feeling deliciously well-rested.
You have cured asleep.
Floating within a fathomless void.
You find the weather around you imperceptible. You find yourself floating here, surrounded by the suffocating nothingness that encapsulates the area. It is dark here, though whether this is a physical feature or a deficiency of your own vision is yet to be deciphered.
There are no obvious exits.
As you awaken you find yourself floating in an endless void that seems to stretch ever-forward. The feeling is as freeing as it is suffocating in that there is no ground to plant your feet upon, and yet you've the ability to move as you wish.
You have emoted: Pazradym looks around, a clear panic upon himself. "What...."
A massive elemental#58456 has turned to dust in your hands.
You offer up an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, an elemental, and an elemental to Omei, the Nightmare.
Your words echo forth, reverberating upon the nothingness before fading only a second sooner than an echo should.
"Empty shell, empty shell, don your essence - wear it well. Hidden below, tucked deep inside, your feelings show - they cannot hide," lilts a voice upon the air that's dissonant and alluring all the same.
You have emoted: Pazradym spreads his wings, using the familiar motion to guide himself through the void, searching for the source of the voice, "Who is there?!?!" He cries aloud, trepidation sounding from him.
Phoenecia tells you, "Hello there."
You whisper psychically into Phoenecia's mind, "Greetings, a moment please."
A low chuckle cuts through the stillness of the void. You're halted suddenly by a plasma-like substance that swirls into existence before you, just within arm's reach. It ripples and contorts, its liquid-like form spreading and flattening until it dawns a thin, reflective sheen that shows to you a perfect reflection of yourself. "Who is there?" your reflection parrots back.
Phoenecia tells you, "Alright."
A small dune of sand collapses near your feet.
You have emoted: Pazradym blinks rapidly, in disbelief. After a moment the question dawns on him, as he looks down, away from the reflection. "A mind drowned in questions, a soul found wanting, and a body limited by its own imperfections." His voice is barely a whisper, spoken to none but himself.
Balance Used: 0.93 seconds
You have recovered balance on all limbs.
You have emoted: Pazradym eases his wings back to their closed position, letting himself drift slowly to the sand, falling in a crumpled heap upon it.
Your reflection nods, just before it begins to quiver and shake. The edges of your face within this liquid begin to thin - this transformation is mirrored in the rest of the body as well as slowly but surely it shifts to resemble something else entirely - Omei. She stares upon you intently, like a predator eyeing prey. The starry constellations that sit within the depths of Her pupils shine like beacons in darkness around you as She slowly steps forth from the substance, which slowly dissolves into nothingness behind Her.
You feel the effect of the eggnog subside.
Your eggnog_end_regen defence has been stripped.
You have emoted: Pazradym , sensing the familiar, yet unknown-in-truth presence, immediately draws himself to a kneeling position, looking up slowly. His eye glances over Her form, but unable to meet Her gaze, he watches the disappearing mass for a long moment. "I know the feel of this gaze. It has haunted me for the entirely of my life. A welcome and unsettling feeling in the back of my mind." He finally looks up fully. "Lady... I... " He lets his eye fall closed again, his words drifting off.
She is an Immortal. Tall and slender, She stands at the height of a Human, but everything about Her screams larger-than-life, Her very form harshly breathtaking. A shaved head frames Her face, each side shorn clean, while the mane atop Her crown itself seems to be formed from the stuff of Dreams - a cloud of moths one moment, writhing tendrils of Nightmare the next. Her skin is a deep purple, the hue of a forest's vespertine shadows, and Her complexion is dark, Her angular cheekbones creating sharp planes across a thin face. Sunken eyes rimmed in kohl-dark earth are a piercing, pure violet, with dilated pupils star-flecked and fathomless. Her dark, bruise-purple lips are full, bisected by an intricate tattoo slicing down the middle of her lower labrum and chin to twine around her neck, unfurling in stunning swoops and slashes across her shoulders, breast and belly. Inked in a rich, lustruous black, the tattoos scrawl out words in every language, from common Aetolian to Rajamalan to words and thoughts only known to the denizens of the Dreamworld. A soft haze hangs over the markings, a faint purple fog that seems to gather and recede of its own volition - and, as the mist skims the Goddess's skin, there are whispers, faint and susurrant, murmuring half-heard prayers of battle and glory and war.
"You struggle," Omei notes as She hovers before you, Her tattoos alight with a pulsating violet hue that swirls like mist as they release barely audible murmurs and whispers. "Why do you struggle?" the Nightmare regards with a quizzical tilt of Her head, a slender eyebrow arching.
You have emoted: Pazradym lets a quick chuckle escape from him, though it is twinged with mania. "I can answer that question many ways. For all my life I have struggled, for what is living without adversity. It is the struggles of life that shapes us into who we are. But I believe you mean my current situation, and that is more specific. I struggle because my perception of your gifts is clouded and obscured from me. My own body fights against my desire to revel in the gifts you share with the sleeping world. " A look of pained longing falls over him as he speaks, slowly creeping over his face. "I have sought various methods to readmit myself to your gifts fully, but nothing yet has worked. I believe I have found another answer, it came to me just recently. But it is, " A moment of silence as he draws a breath. "an extreme circumstance. I have been working myself to the conviction I need to progress."
Omei purses Her lips as She eases forth, sliding through the air as if it was water. Her movements are fluid and graceful, each one calculated, yet just as much an expression as anything. "You are empty," She states so matter-of-factly that it may as well be common knowledge. "Your very being struggles. It is hungry and thirsty and you have denied it sustenance." Her gaze narrows upon you in scrutiny as She pantomimes a tracing motion of your body with Her finger. "It is not as it was because you are not as you were," She informs, slowly, each word carefully pronounced as to allow it to properly sink in. "You need to fix it."
The deepening night provides hope for the coming of the dawn as the moon traces its path across the sky.
Skepticism entering Her tone, Omei, the Nightmare says, "But you are used to the hollowness. You fear, deep down, that fulfillment. What would it do? What would it -change- and would you be -you-?"
The adumbrative night stretches onward, ever elusive of dawn's grasp.
You have emoted: Pazradym looks down, bowing his head. He says nothing for a long moment as Omei's words ring true in his ears. He gives a pained breath, before once again. "You are, of course, correct. How could you not be. I have spent the majority of my life alone, and so, the emptiness that fills me now was merely an extension of what has already been. I welcomed it, basked in it even. But also, with the troubles this form has brought, I sought to resolve each before I continued on. I have always been a singularly focused person. I seek always to resolve one issue at a time, the better to focus my will upon it. I had dismissed the flaws of my current state as unrelated to proceeding on, filing it away as another task to attend to once my current dilemma had been resolved. What good is a palace, if its foundation is built on sand. I sought to master this form, and its difficulties, before seeking another. Was I wrong?"
In silence, the sun casts its first rays across the land, banishing the night westward before its ascending brilliance.
It is now dawn on Closday, the 14th of Severin, year 463 of the Midnight Age.
Before you've even finished your question, Omei is upon you. She stands behind you with Her left arm curled around your abdomen, and Her right shifted in such a way that Her fingers wrap lightly - for now - against the tender flesh of your throat. The claws that dawn Her fingers prod upwards gently into the flesh they touch as She leans in to whisper quietly, yet altogether still vehemently into your ear, "You speak too much. Show Me action over words and cries of inadequacy." Like a constricting snake Her fingers begin to close around your throat; though you may be far from fatally in danger, the time you have to act is indecipherable. "You've the power, but you hide it," She purrs into your ear, Her warm breath able to be felt as the words escape Her lips. "Summon it, or be left to rot in this void," She icily demands.
Phoenecia tells you, "I suppose I'll bother you some other time. You seem occupied."
You have emoted: Pazradym jerks stiffly as he is drawn into Omei's grasp, his eye swinging wildly about as he attempts to keep Omei in his sight. As Omei's hand closes about this throat, he coughs, a choking sound accompanying it. In a staggered, choking gasp he replies, "As... as you will my Lady." He clamps his eye closed tightly, in a vain attempt to close out the surrounding distractions, seeking his center, and the power She demanded.
You feel it at first deep within your chest, gnawing at your insides like a beast trying to escape. It churns and writhes, prodding at organs and veins and bone as it seeks release through whatever means necessary. Soon, a pain accompanies the motion of this energy. It is like a knife as it begins to split through the flesh of your stomach - a pain that, at the very least, distracts from Omei's tightening grasp upon your throat. A tendril of lash-like energy pierces upwards from this incision that in only seconds manages to spread itself like a spider's web to encapsulate your torso in its entirety. As it crawls up your throat and finds shelter within your mouth, breathing begins to grow all the more difficult. Blackness around the edges of your vision starts to settle in, swirling sluggishly through what little sight you have remaining. Consciousness teeters, your limbs grow weak...
In a clipped whisper, excitement flourishing amidst Her tone, Omei, the Nightmare says, "Breathe, Azudim Mine, do not let it win."
Light stretches from horizon to horizon as the sun ascends further, commanding the morning with its incandescence.
A small dune of sand collapses near your feet.
You have emoted: Pazradym draws a quick pained breath, but fails to hold it in, as it immediately escapes his throat in a deep sounding scream. It is a ragged, bloody thing. calling forth the torment of his body as he is changed.
The scream that roars forth from your body is cut short in this void that surrounds you. As the last dregs of consciousness begin to fade, you see Omei floating off in the distance ahead of you, Her gaze unsettlingly stuck to your form. Your head lulls, and the last sight you see before you succumb to the sheer pain of the experience is your transformed body, jagged and something of nightmares.
Your exhausted mind can stay awake no longer, and you fall into a deep sleep.
You are afflicted with asleep.
You ease yourself out of the Scorpion stance.
An unusually vivid dream swirls through your sleeping mind, and you have the distinct impression of movement.
A well lit training room.
You see a single exit leading west.
---Dreams again
You begin your struggle to escape from the dreamworld.
You continue your struggle to escape from the dreamworld.
You open your eyes and yawn mightily.
You have cured asleep.
Making a call to your own, you kip yourself up and sink back into the Scorpion stance.
A well lit training room.
You see a single exit leading west.
Omei grants you entrance into Her Order. Congratulations!
As the reality of the waking world settles slowly in once more, you notice a strange marking upon your wrist that'd most certainly not been there before the dream.
(Order): Omei says, "Welcome, Pazradym. You fought for this. You were shown you can overcome that which sets you back. Remember it. Do not allow yourself to forget it. Triumph."
(Order): Kerryn says, "Welcome!"
(Order): You say, "Thank you Lady. Both for your guidance and for the opportunities you grant. I will remember. Always."
(Order): Aisling says, "Welcome."
(Order): You say, "Thank you all, for the welcome."
The Divine voice of Omei echoes in your head, "You did two things just now you said you couldn't do - dream, and ascend. Sometimes it takes but a push."
A distant keening howl seizes your attention, and you stop to listen. It is the sound of some creature, somewhere, experiencing inutterable sorrow. A chill ripples down your spine as the sound trails off, but you remember...
Mileta whispers into your consciousness, "Welcome. Sorry was mindless."
The Divine voice of Omei echoes in your head, "It is up to you to do these things on your own now."
You whisper psychically into Omei's mind, "Of course, my thanks again Lady. I will strive forward to make my own path, that it will please You."
You whisper psychically into Mileta's mind, "Thank you for the welcome."
The Divine voice of Omei echoes in your head, "Good."
You are wearing:
-Lots of stuff-
"tattoo218133" a black-inked tattoo of a feral eye, under one wrist.
Thick black lines make up the entirety of this stark tattoo, the ink that makes it up quivering and twitching upon the skin where it rests. A series of slash-like lines come together in jarring intersections that when looked at closely come together to form an eye with a sharp, angled pupil. Every so often a ripple of violet, electric-like energy traces its way across the length of the tattoo before fizzling into the skin beneath.
It can only be worn in the following location: underwrist.
It is strangely weightless.
Bonus Log!
A fun little quip with Omei again, after the event before. It seems if you are pulled from your haven, exiting after will send you to where were pulled to. As such Paz finds himself stuck in a void with no escape. >.>
You reach out with your mind and focus on leaving the Haven.
You leave your Haven to return once more to reality.
Floating within a fathomless void.
You find the weather around you imperceptible.
There are no obvious exits.
Equilibrium Used: 2.00 seconds
You have recovered equilibrium.
Floating within a fathomless void.
You find the weather around you imperceptible. You find yourself floating here, surrounded by the suffocating nothingness that encapsulates the area. It is dark here, though whether this is a physical feature or a deficiency of your own vision is yet to be deciphered.
There are no obvious exits.
Deciding to end your own existence, you concentrate on relaxing your musculature permanently.
You feel muscle peel away from tendon and bone, and the smooth tissues degenerating throughout your body as murky fluids begin to pour from every orifice.
Your abdomen is nothing more than a fluid filled sack, and the bones throughout your body liquify, causing you to pitch backwards.
The world goes black as your abdomen bursts, and the lumpy fluid remains of your internal organs flood out of your new corpse.
You have been slain by misadventure.
Experience Lost: 15000 [total: 5330628]
A stack of 2 skullcap flowers falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 sileris berries falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 pieces of prickly ash bark falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 goldenseal roots falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 pieces of kelp falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 lobelia seeds falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 ginseng roots falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 bellwort flowers falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 bloodroot leaves falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 pieces of irid moss falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 kola nuts falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 cohosh roots falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 hawthorn berries falls out of your inventory.
A stack of 2 pieces of bayberry bark falls out of your inventory.
The Hall of the Underking.
There are no obvious exits.
You approach the dais that bears the mirror.
You move forward toward the giant mirror, marveling at its size and perfectly flat, unmarred reflective surface. Strangely, you can see nothing reflected in the mirror, but it may be some trick of the light from this angle.
Experience Lost: 937 [total: 5329691]
Ascending the polished, white stone steps of the dais, you draw closer to the grand mirror. The alabaster stone framing its glassy surface bears an array of incredibly intricate runic engraving, so intertwined that the entire surface of the stone could be one huge rune. As you move closer, you notice even finer details carved into the stone, almost impossibly tiny patterns decorating every space in the fine runework.
Experience Lost: 937 [total: 5328754]
You reach the top of the dais and gaze into the mirror itself. What you see there makes you tremble involuntarily and your knees go weak. The image in the mirror is You. Not your outward physical appearance, but the true you, your inner being. Every secret thought, every hope, every hate, every conviction you hold and every lie you tell yourself is reflected back in the perfect surface of the mirror.
Experience Lost: 937 [total: 5327817]
By the divine might of Omei, you are restored to life.
Omei gives a stack of 2 bellwort flowers, a stack of 2 bloodroot leaves, a stackof 2 cohosh roots, a stack of 2 ginseng roots, a stack of 2 goldenseal roots, a stack of 2 hawthorn berries, a stack of 2 kola nuts, a stack of 2 lobelia seeds,a stack of 2 pieces of bayberry bark, a stack of 2 pieces of irid moss, a stack of 2 pieces of kelp, a stack of 2 pieces of prickly ash bark, a stack of 2 sileris berries, and a stack of 2 skullcap flowers to you.
Omei gives the corpse of a headless cadaver to you.
Omei offers you a quick wink.
Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. If you have any comments or questions feel free to leave them! I always welcome advice and critique.
Omei gives the corpse of a headless cadaver to you.
Omei offers you a quick wink.
"Emelle settles into the silence, leaning her weight against the counter on a folded arm. Reaching over, she ashes her cigarette into a waiting dish, watching you."
The combination of the expressed action along with signaling that she was waiting for you to speak was so well done!
"He rambles off on a tangent for a moment, "Well, I was always colorblind, but just in the one eye. When I lost the good one, well..." He quickly coughs returning to the point."
This just totally cracked me up, adding a rambling tangent to this was smoothly done.
"Emelle had opened her mouth to speak, but as the voice of One more powerful resonates across the world, she doesn't."
haha!
"Pazradym listens intently, once again leaning forward, propping himself up on an elbow. He gets a strange look at the mention of the prolonged nightmares, but remains quiet."
See, this is the kind of thing I need to do more of, react but still allow the other person to continue. I often get stuck in the rut of always responding with words to everything.
Thank you for sharing! I am looking forward to reading the remaining parts.