Tide of Shadows

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Wait and see what happens. The dreams might be interesting, but they are benign, and seem to have cured Fehl of his mental affliction..."

[rhoenix]

"That it did, that it did," said Fehl with a happy smile. "Shit, if that's how Noxeus rolls, he and I should have a talk someday - if this statue is an example of how he thinks, the guy sounds like someone I'd like to have a drink with."

"Oh, Ophidian," said Fehl, "can you help me identify these to help save time?", he asked as he withdrew each of the items he'd found in the cave from the small leather sack usually attached to the side of his belt, including two bastard swords.

[Rogue 9]

"Wonderful," Bartel growled as he saw Volemack's eyes start to droop. He didn't know much about Noxeus, but he knew enough about gods in general to know that they were rarely straightforward, and that there was likely more to the mysterious dreams than simply healing.

[rhoenix]

"Ah, don't worry about it," said Fehl off-handedly to Father Bartel. "He'll just have a fight or three, after which he'll either be fully back to normal. Or something horrible could happen if he fails, but we'll see."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I doubt that. The worst that will happen is he wont be healed. I just remembered something from my own church history. We used to be Baccob's analogue. Dreams, knowledge and protection were his primary spheres of influence. Worship of him tends to take the form of shamanistic ritual, and the knowledge he grants is personal. However it tends to also focus around nightmares, which essentially scared people into the arms of the gentler, if someone impersonal Boccob, when civilization started extending its tendrils into the region. In other words, he has nothing to fear inside his own mind that what he takes in with him."

The wizard put his mask over his head and spoke the command word, activating detect magic

"let's take a look at these..."

[rhoenix]

Nodding at Ophidian's words, Fehl's eyes also scrutinized the items, his ability to detect magic activating with a thought.

[Charon]

"If it makes fleshies sleep, why not give the statue to me, since I don't, and can't, sleep." Eight looked over at Fehl and Ophidian who were clearly distracted by the magical gains they had found within the underground passages. "Bah."

[rhoenix]

This certainly caught Fehl's attention, who stopped scrutinizing the magical items, and glared at Eight. "Let me get this straight - you want us to give the statue, an obvious node of power for Noxeus, the God of Dreams, into the hands of a created sentient magical being who before now has had no need to sleep."

After a moment, he shrugged, and went back to looking at the item. "Actually, it might do you some good. Knock yourself out. And I mean that, or it might not do anything."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Most likely" Ophidian said "The bracers are lesser bracers of armor. Good against incorporeal attacks as well as mundane ones. The bag, though I am less sure, is seemingly some sort of bag of tricks. One would have to experiment to find out. As to 'eight' carrying the statue... it is worth a shot. " he said, speaking to no one in particular. Then he looked right at the Golem

"Though the sleep is a supernatural one. To the extent to which you have a soul you might find yourself sleeping regardless. This is a risk that you need to take properly informed, so there it is. I may not have many ethical scruples but using sapient beings for magical experiments without informed consent is one of them"

[Rogue 9]

"If it's nightmares, then maybe some courage would help, at least," Bartel said. A moment later, he was standing next to Volemack, uttering the short prayer of courage that was very familiar to him by now.

[Remove fear. Yes, I know it won't do anything, but he doesn't know that.]

[Academia Nut]

Bartel did not even have time to finish his prayer before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he collapsed into a deep sleep, along with Volemack succumbing to a sudden wave of sleep, his slightly drowsiness suddenly turning into an overwhelming wave of exhaustion that caused his eyelids to close as surely as if lead weights had been attached to them.

Bartel heard a calm, neutral voice say, "Please remain patient while the dreamscape forms."

[Charon]

"Oh this is priceless. Yeah we can't trust the being which quite literally cannot sleep to hold the item, so let's just keep trying with things that can sleep." Eight looked at the statue and those laying around it.

"You know what, I've changed my mind, this is too priceless to pass up on." The construct took a few steps away from the sleeping members of their group. "Either way, we can't wait around for them to wake up or not. We need to start moving."

[Academia Nut]

Volemack found himself lying on something hard, pointy, and with a tendency to shift about on him. As his draconic eyes fluttered open to a thin red light, he discovered that he was lying on bones. An endless field of bones that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Dragon bones, brittle and weak from time and scavengers gnawing on them to get to the marrow within.

The dunes of bones were not however uninterrupted, for dozens of mountains were scattered about as far as the eye could see, which was incredibly far as there was no horizon to this place. The mountains were huge cylinders that reached up above the sickly yellow clouds, so incredibly tall were they. The closest one was carved from some great red stone that looked like it had been soaked in an ocean of blood before being plopped down in this nightmare realm.

Then, with a great rumbling that shook the desert of bones like a pebble being thrown into a pond, the mountain Volemack had been staring at lifted up, leaving the ground like some missile and disrupting the clouds with the gale force wind of its passage. And Volemack could see the truth. It was not a mountain. It was a leg! The leg of a great red dragon, so huge that the fire in its belly glowed like a weak sun high above and its face was invisibly distant.

As Volemack stared in wonder he noticed two other dragons circling overhead, larger than even his mother, but they were not silver dragons but dark black, eerie looking beings that seemed to flicker in an out of vision, their great wings more like shadows than membranes of flesh. And they were circling lower.

[Academia Nut]

There was a soft tone as the black void lifted off Bartel's eyes with a pulse of light, and he found himself floating just on a great symbol of St. Cuthbert made of light before it faded and he found himself dropped on to the pile of bones quite unceremoniously.

Looking up, he found Volemack in his dragon form sitting on a particularly large dune of bones about a hundred yards in the distance while two enormous dragons seemingly composed of darkness circled about above the small silver.

[Rogue 9]

"What in the name of the Cudgel," he breathed as he reached for his mace, looking up at the mountains in confusion.

[Charon]

"I'd suggest no more prayers." The construct looked at the group still conscious who actually prayed to the deities. "I think it draws you closer to Noxe-whosit's realm, which in this case means hardcore sleepy time."

[rhoenix]

While this immediately made Fehl look thoughtful (if only due to the prospect of getting into a fairly interesting fight or three), he did help move the unconscious, prostrate bodies to ride more easily in the cart. "Shit Eight, don't tell me that, or you'll start hearing me pray to go kick an ass or three, and I'd be concerned about the deity that would consider that a good idea and support it."

[SirNitram]

The exclamation was in Draconic and the sort of phrase his aunt would wash his mouth out with soap for. But Volemack drew on the instincts first; the hard-won knowledge earned by each dragon of his lineage, hardwired into his brain each generation. It was an effectively infinite array of possible responses, but when dealing with dragons that much bigger, one response registered: RUN AND HIDE. The tiny dragon leapt away from the giant red, wings flashing silver as he sprints through the air.

[LadyTevar]

"Fehl... What Happened in your Dream," Ceridwen demanded, climbing from Hurin into the wagon seat and taking up the reins. She clucked to the mule, setting the cart in motion as Hurin strode beside as he was trained. She couldn't help her Ward now... couldn't get into the dream as Bartel did. Driving the cart kept Ceridwen from doing something stupid as she worried what was happening.

It did help Fehl. It seemed to help Fehl. Both he and Ophidias came out ok. So would Volemack. The same phrase Volemack would get his mouth washed out for slipped near-silently from Ceridwen's lips as she tried not to panic.

[Academia Nut]

The world sized red far above obviously had no comprehension of the tiny specks far below it, but the pair of shadowy creatures both stooped and dove at Volemack, their enormous bodies freakishly whip thin and almost translucent. Their thin muzzles opening wide, they screeched out weird, dischordant yet definitely draconic roars just before they exhaled enormous plumes of black smoke and shadows. Somehow, despite the overlapping fields of fire, Volemack managed to roll and dance between the enveloping shadows, not letting a single speck of that dark stuff contact his flesh. Gods only knew what they would do to him if they had made contact.

[rhoenix]

Looking non-chalant, even invigorated by the thought, Fehl replied to Ceridwen's question calmly.

"Well, I had to face a few of my worst fears made manifest in my own dreams. As I defeated my fears turned into enemies, I regained what I had lost, one piece at a time. It was fun," he said, looking almost as if he'd like to try it again.

[LadyTevar]

"So .... he just has to face his fears in battle?" Ceridwen asked, looking back at the slight silver-haired teen. "Great. He's facing Chromatic Elder Wyrms, with only Bartel to help him."

[Rogue 9]

Taking his mace in his hand, Bartel looked at the shadows chasing Volemack. This was a dream, he knew it had to be.

He didn't have the spells to deal with this, but he'd have to do the best he could. He scrambled over the pile of bones as fast as he could, rushing towards the young dragon and his pursuers.

[Comrade Tortoise]

"So .... he just has to face his fears in battle?" Ceridwen asked, looking back at the slight silver-haired teen. "Great. He's facing Chromatic Elder Wyrms, with only Bartel to help him."

"Not quite... He has control. Through force of will he can heal his wounds, create protective barriers, resist spells, he could probably become an elder wyrm in his dream if he has the mental fortitude. That is part of the challenge. To overcome your own limitations through force of will, I think. It will be good for him outside the context of healing his addledness"

[LadyTevar]

"I hope you're right..."