[RPG] [BT][Rio]Just a bad dream...

[Tonie van Loon]

*Quinn stood on the banks of a small lake, surrounded by a lush landscape,
almost too perfect to be true. The trees that stood along the lines of the
lake were in full blossom, and many flowers were scattered through the long
grass. As he approached the lake, he saw that the water was very clear;
there were fish, big and small, swimming just under the surface. He looked
up when he heard to song of a bird, and smiled at the sight of a pair of
robins in the branches of one of the trees.***

*As he took in the calmness of the place, admiring its sheer beauty,
something felt wrong. A feeling of dread and a sense of alarm suddenly
passed over him. He looked back up into the tree, the robins had gone,
replaced by carrion crows that sat in the dead branches of the tree,
branched that had been lush and green only moments before.***

*When he looked back down from the tree, he staggered back in horror. The
lush green grass had died, leaving behind only a dead, grey landscape. All
the trees had died, and pillars of smoke showed on the horizon. He looked
back down at the lake. No more fish swam in the now murky water, the few
fish that remained floated motionlessly on the surface.***

*He turned from the scene and was faced with an unearthly curtain of mist.
He could see humanoid shapes slowly moving in the mists, but their movements
were forced, unnatural. One of them turned to him and slowly strode towards
him. As it came closer, a dead stench filled his nostrils. He reached for
his sword, but didn't find it. He noticed then that he was clad only in a
peasant's garb. ***

*He turned to flee the creature, but more had appeared out of the murky
water of the lake, and he was sealed in. Closer and closer they came, until
they were upon him. The blows of his fists, however hard, availed nothing,
and he was cut down. Then everything went black…***

***

Quinn awoke with a start in his tent, the sounds of his men breaking camp
all around him. Cold sweat ran down his back in streams and his right hand
clawed at the worn fabric of his cloak. He shook his head in horror, this
was a dream that he had experienced before. He looked around his tent and
saw the silvery plate mail that had been given to him after the first time
the dream had come, after he saw his first and only Vision of his God.

He reached to his right and his hand found the wooden shaft of a long,
bladed spear. It lacked many of the ornamentations favoured by the higher
nobility, but he could sense its power as his fingers ran along the polished
wood.

"Gungnir," He whispered. "I pray I am worthy of you…"
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://news.battlemaster.org/pipermail/rpg/attachments/20070604/ecacbc03/attachment.htm