theworldofdreams.com

The Dreamer floats in the circular chamber mystically hollowed out of living rock. There are no entrances, no portals at all, for there is no reason for them. The Dreamer just floats here in dark light, and dreams. To most, he is an arcane myth, a rumor or child's tale, but there are some that know of him and believe. He has Dreamed since the World was created and although his body is quiescent, his spirit drifts o'er the World, watching and listening. The World has wracked with horror and agony. A dark taint of evil is spreading with ever increasing power, affecting all living things. The Dreamer cannot personally do anything, but he can witness and pass his observations to others...

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King Slysthylyss lashed his tail about in fury, knocking two unfortunate guards off their feet in the process. "Humansssss!", he rasped, "The humansss musst die. The invassion of Jhelom wass a complete failure and ssomeone mussst pay!!" he spat out. His long, purplish tongue flickered in and out of his mouth with sharp motions almost too quick to see. His eyes glowed redly as he strode about the cavern in a jerky yet sinuous manner.

"But, milord." a crouching courtier whined, "Why musst we do thisss? We have alwayss hated them and killed them whenever we could. But, we are not ssstrong enough toOoAOOAOAAHAHHHHGGGhghghghhhhhhh...." he tumbled lifeless to the floor, his scaled head in twain with one blow of the King's spear!

"Isss there anyone elsssse that thinksss we are not sssSSTRONG ENOUGH?", the King roared. The rest of the warriors, mages and overseer stood back against the damp walls, staring unblinkingly everywhere but at the King. "WELL!!!", he roared again, acidic saliva spraying from his needle pointed teeth. The cavern was filled with a sussuration of aspirated voices moaning out "Noo, nooo milord, nooo o' King, noooo nooooo"

The King glared about him and slammed his scaled posterior onto the worn block of basalt that served him as a throne. He sat with his taloned hands gripping his skull as if he wished to crush it. He snarled and whimpered, his mind a gibbering maelstrom of fury, hate and confusion.

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Queen Shysless encircled the blackrock pillar and squeezed it with all the power of her coils. Her head bent back with effort and and drops of ichor seeped from beneath her scales, so great the force of her contraction. Her eyes whirled through a gamut of emotions and with a flurry of strikes, she slayed every sycophant and attendant in her throne room. Gasping and wheezing, she reeled upwards and fell limply to the uneven floor. Before her glazed eyes, visions of humans slaying snakelings and torturing captured younglings swirled. She remembered the ancient days of prominence of her race and knew it was all lost and would never return. But, as she thrashed about, a voice murmured in her brain, promising destruction and glory.

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Whyyth's red eyes glared at the horde of vermin before him. He crouched atop the refuse heap, trembling in every muscle and stared at the mutated rats that scurried about in frenzy before him. The humans died easily and even though continued to fight, there was no end to Whyyth's race. His naked tail whipped about as he twisted his head until his neckbones crackled. Fierce pain filled him and then, the dark radiance. This was their time to ascend into the awful light and feast on human flesh. No more the days of skulking about, no more creeping or hiding. Unspeakable powers and energies filled him, causing him to retch and choke. His body began to smoulder, his flesh too weak to contain the awesome energy. It actually ignited, sending a stinking, oily smoke upwards. As he writhed atop the slimy mound of putrid garbage, from his eyes a black radiance shone out upon the horde, changing them, twisting them, empowering them.

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Matthew slammed the crate of blank scrolls upon the counter! "Blasted adventurers are worthless. We are just being used!" he growled out. Leena, his wife and partner of 20 years, blinked in surprise. Matthew was the most phlegmatic man she had ever met. Nothing ever seemed to bother him. For all their lives he had taken everything in stride. He was a gentle, studious man who spent long hours studying histories and tomes of knowledge. He even tamed bunnies and brought home to heal any animal he found. But now she saw him trembling with repressed fury as he gripped the crate and stared blindly out the rain spackled window. "Matthew, what is wrong?"

He whirled about violently, his eyes almost bulging as he glared at her. "What ISN'T?" he snarled. "Everything is wrong. Everything has gone wrong and it's THEIR FAULT!!" he shouted. Leena recoiled in fear as his eyes rolled wildly in his skull. She screamed when he threw himself at the rabbit hutch, jerked out each bunny he had lovingly taken care of and slammed them into the walls and floor. "SEE??! SEe what they DO?" he moaned. He turned to stare fixedly at her. Whimpering with confusion and fear, she back into a corner as he advanced, his twitching fingers outstretched and covered with blood and bits of fur.

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"Captain Thorpe reporting as ordered, sir!" the young officer snapped to attention in front of the massively built King. Inside he was trembling with fear, failure was not acceptable in the Praetorian world. But outwardly he showed nothing, his face like stone as he stared straight ahead. The armor clad figure turned and stared down at the young man. His eyes seemed to roil with unseen acts and he cocked his head as if he heard a silent voice. He motioned and two Subjugators stepped forward to seize the young officer's arms. The man struggled as they fastened manacles and chains to his wrists. An Overseer smirked as he hoisted the captain up into the air with the ceiling pulley.

"You, as the others, did not succeed." the King grated out through clenched teeth. "Not in Yew, not in Britain, not in Minoc or Magincia. You had the most powerful vermin the world has seen as allies and you all were defeated. This cannot be, this will not be. You were to conquer and establish a foothold at the Vesper graveyard and what happened? Nothing! You were beaten back and destroyed even allied with those disgusting creatures of the Night."

The captain hung there defenselessly. He could make no excuse, that was not allowed. Perhaps if he remained forthright, brave and silent, the King would tire of this. He was one of the few remaining officers left. The King would be insane to do anything to jeapordize his functionality. "Learn the gift of failure..." he heard as the King motioned to the two Subjugators and the Overseer. The King sat back on his gilded chair and tittered with glee, his eyes glazing with malevolence, as the men broke every bone in the captain's body...

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Lord Eliathan sat brooding on the reaperwood throne. The seat, back and arms of the throne were covered with a purple silk with intricate gold embroidery that wove complex, arcane patterns. The crypt was cold as ice but Eliathan's heart was colder. Rich tapestries shielded the walls and thick, woven rugs covered the stone floor of his spacious crypt. The highly polished table next to him held a crystal ball, a skull dagger and a goblet of rich, deep red liquid. Bookcases encompassed one entire wall from floor to ceiling, filled with hundreds of tomes of lore.

This was the best he could make of his un-life. Neither he or his minions needed any more. Why this soul ripping urge to slay with voracious intent? Why the mindless rages that possessed the lesser ones? There was always prey to keep the Thirst at bay. There was no need to invade cities or kill all humans but those very thoughts pushed at the core of his mind with almost irresistable force. It was stupid to want to kill all the humans! If that occurred then his kind would be forced to feed on animals and the delicious playtimes with captured adventurers would cease.

No, this was not to be. He had lost the total control he had imposed on the vampire community in Vesper but he would not let this continue to its inevitable end. By the hind end of Baal, mutant rats of incredible powers had appeared which should have been impossible, and the uptight, malevolent Praetorian's were goosestepping in HIS graveyard! Something was out there causing this and much as Eliathan hated to admit it, it was more evil than himself. He would find the source of this Taint and kill it.

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The Dreamer arched his back in sympathetic pain and gasped with the force of his visioning. Someone must learn of all of this. The source of the Taint must be found before the very World was ripped asunder.

A very interesting narrative.

..tapestries shielded the walls and thick, woven rugs covered the stone floor of his spacious crypt. The highly polished table next to him held a crystal ball, a skull dagger and a goblet of rich, deep red liquid. Bookcases encompassed one entire wall from floor to ceiling, filled with hundreds of tomes of lore.

I didn't know the filming of this story took place in my Tower this week. It was fortunate that I am currently abroad with.. business. Please ensure that the demons hired as Extras return to their home plane this time, as Graz'zt and I have a little misunderstanding that tends to shatter mortal realms when we meet. Mind you, on the whole Graz'zts' a wonderful fiend, if you're into the whole daemonology thing.

Anyway, I must be off.. I have some souls in the Nether to enslave. But don't worry, in my yearly Britannian Tax Return, they don't count as a source of Income.

-M

Marius the Black wrote:A very interesting narrative.

Thank you.

I didn't know the filming of this story took place in my Tower this week. It was fortunate that I am currently abroad with.. business.

We really tried to reach you ahead of time, honest! We crept about as quiet as mouses with video cameras, sound equipment, prima donna actors and directors with delusions of grandeur can be. The only one that objected was the squashed looking, tri-forked tongue gargoyle with an obvious nasal congestion problem. We locked him in the abattoir since his constant snuffling caused the sound director panic attacks. I hope you let him out and I DO apologize for not acquiring the necessary sureties ahead of time.

Please ensure that the demons hired as Extras return to their home plane this time, as Graz'zt and I have a little misunderstanding that tends to shatter mortal realms when we meet.

Everyone was accounted for but the assistant flayer and one purple beetle. Eliathan refused to ride a purple beetle and it got offended and scurried up a wall and wouldn't come down. If you see it, feel free to torture or kill it since it broke its contract. I think the flayer got snarfed by one of our extras so we won't worry about him!