Dreamscapes and Perhaps More.

[orphans]

Closed for Christoph, All bunnying by either me or Chris is approved via IM.

Hurrying along the streets, the small girl nearly tripped over her own feet but rushed along anyways with a bright smile on her face. A young woman waved for her to stop and made a quick purchase of wildflowers. The two took a moment to exchange a few words and ended with the young woman hurrying off laughing and the small girl giggling. Days were happy and the girl simply wanted to get back to the orphanage and play with the other children before dinner and bedtime.

“Azza is coming back!” shouted a little boy. The group of youngsters surrounded her and began to badger her with nonsensical questions, which Azza answered all too happily. Wanting to put her things down, she pulled apart a small bag of candy and passed it out to the kids about her as a diversion before slipping off inside.

Heaving a sigh, she slipped quickly into the cool room of the orphanage and wiped her brow quickly with her forearm. Running over to the desk, she chattered quickly in excitement to the woman there, “Mother Holly, here here! Azza made this today.” Fishing in her pockets for the coins she made that day, she deposited them onto the desk before rushing off again.

“Azza wait!” The kindly woman shouted after her but the girl had already, literally, flew out the door. “I swear… that girl never listens.” Smiling as she peered out the window at the white haired girl, she watched her form a circle with the younger children.

Dinnertime came soon enough and consisted of a simple meal of wild berries stewed with pork and bread from the baker. Life had been easy lately with most of the older children being able to bring in enough money so that no one was left with a growling stomach. After dinner chores consisted of the younger ones sweeping the floors and helping with whatever possible while the older ones whittled time away with washing dishes or sitting outside in the cool evening air before everyone was called to bed.

Bed for the kindly woman couldn’t come sooner as she chased the younger children about in the garden. With the help from some of the older children and the lure of candy, she managed to have everyone settled down in bed. Needless to say, the kindly woman was beginning to gray from the children’s antics but she was happy anyways. Everyone settled down for the night and one by one, drifted off into sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walls of red stone rose up on either side of her as she sat in a circle with others, their faces slowly coming into focus. The sun’s fading rays glanced off the rock and illuminated the animal skin dress she was wearing. Where was this? Presently that didn’t matter too much as she was being addressed by someone. The man's face was familiar but still blurred along with much of the scenery and those around the circle were similar. His voice was distant and sounded merely like that of a long forgotten echo.

All at once the world about began to change and Azza was standing in a field of tall golden grass nearing the harvest season. Small knolls were to the west and north with a small brook running near by. Someone was waving to her and though she couldn’t see who it was her mind reacted instantly with one word, Tenhali. Taking his hand in hers, there was a moment of silent joy before he too dissolved into nothing, leaving Azza standing in the middle of a barren field. Without much thought, she brought a blood drenched hand to wipe the tears that had begun to flow from her eyes, painting her face red.

[Christoph]

“Take it easy, friend,” Christopher called back to the bartender, waving his arm dismissively, before heading up the creaky wooden staircase. The fat, beady-eyed man behind the counter waved his thick hairy arm back and smiled. His other hand scratched his head of greasy blonde hair. Chris had been one of the last to turn in for the night; even the lute-playing bard had left. He sighed and mumbled to himself upon reaching the top step. “Well, that was an awkward shift in roles.”

Having worked at a bartender himself for a few years in his home town in Salvar, Chris was well accustomed to serving as a friendly pair of ears for depressed, boastful, downtrodden, or otherwise dysfunctional customer. Even so, he it was awkward to sit on the other side of the counter as a customer and play therapist for a dysfunctional bartender. And I thought that I had issues with father figures… He ran his fingers through his curly mop of oily brown hair and rubbed the side of his face wearily. It felt as though he were running his hand over sandpaper, which indicated that he was in desperate need of a shave and a bath.

Chris’s room was the third non-descript, old wooden door with a tarnished pewter handle on the left. It wasn’t much; it consisted of a simple bed that would certainly be uncomfortable, a wobbly dark wooden chair, a splintering wooden table with a lit wax candle, and a window. It was what he would need to cope with in order to continue to travel on a strict budget. His frugal nature had served him rather effectively since he departed from his home town in Salvar to embark on what was supposed to have been a business endeavor. He was to meet with warehouses, grain sellers, and captains of cargo ships in order to work out beneficial contracts for his mother’s tavern.

He yawned and sat on the edge of the small bed. It was as hard and uncomfortable as he had expected – though, it was better than sleeping on the ground. At least the sheets were clean. Unfortunately, the walls weren’t particularly effective at blocking the rather suggestive creaking and ruffling sounds from the room adjacent to his. Chris chuckled; this was the first time since he’d left for Scara Brae and Corone that his trip was actually going as expected. Finally, things were normal instead of a seemingly endless flow of misadventures, strange people, and other various debacles slowing his progress down. He was sitting on a bumpy bed in a dingy inn, listening to a pair of neighbors with questionable senses of modesty. He sighed, smiling, and fell backward onto the bed. This is more like it…

* * *

Light spun rapidly and faded into blackness as reality slowly slipped away. The dim room in the inn vanished and Chris found himself standing behind a dusty wooden counter, just like the one in his home’s pub. His hair was clean and his face shaved and he was wearing his white chef coat and poofy hat again. He was polishing a glass – the same glass, over and over again. His hand moved a rag across the glass in circular motions along the outside and then scooped and swabbed the inside, before starting all over again.

The air in the bar seemed hazy, as though smoke from the kitchen had drifted into the hall. It was much thicker, though. The corners were obscured and even the closer walls were blurry. Patrons talked and laughed at every table. The sound was distorted and unbalanced: Chris could hear a conversation on the other side of the room as though they were yelling from a few feet away, while the voices of those on the stools in front of the counter were reduced to mere whispers.

Then, every single customer stood silently and abruptly and left for no logical reason. They filed out in a zombie-like trance, leaving Chris standing alone behind the counter. It wasn’t long before he felt the strange urge to leave as well. After a brief hesitation, he gave in to it and walked to the door. It opened before him with a groaning creak. He peered outside, unsure of what awaited him.

[orphans]

The soft grass she stood in was moist with morning dew while the sun cast surreal shadows across the landscape. Quite suddenly, the sun in the sky seemed to crack and splinter into fragments, falling to the ground.

‘A dream… it must be.’ Glancing over to the northern hill, she began to walk towards it on impulse.

“Be careful young one…” a fluttering voice said to the small girl. Turning about in search of the disembodied voice, she gave a look of confusion before once more turned to the hill and began to walk. “What beautiful skin you have. Pity that the mark of imperfection curses you.” Stumbling over a small stone she tried to scream out as she fell but instead gave only a breath of frozen air. The frozen snowdrift she was now apparently on was being buffeted with chilling winds.

‘Everything is… so fragmented…’ Never had her dreams been so shattered. Standing up at the top of the hill, everything once more disintegrated around her and was replaced instantly with the cries of men, women, and war animals. Swords and spears littered the around and bodies decorated the field as far as the eye could see.

“Everyone is ready for the charge.”

“Good, give the order. Send the demon in front.”

Looking to the left of where she stood there were men and women with blades at the ready. Opposite of them was a closed door. Rather out of place on the battlefield. Then suddenly it happened and before she knew what was happening, Azza was swept along in the frenzied charge. Arrows hailed down from invisible foes while those struck dead burst into wisps of smoke.

Silence. The background faded and soon the small girl stood alone once more in a circle of light, alone with only a door. “This, is what you wanted, is it not?”

Reaching for the door knob hesitantly with a single hand it seemed as if an eternity passed before she opened the door. “Freedom, was it?”

The stench of a bar room escaped from the door followed by a line of figures, their heads all hung low. “H-hello?” Azza said timidly. Reaching out with a hand to grab one of their hands she simply passed through them.

“Let them go, young one… the other is the one you seek.”

‘The other….?’ Turning herself around to face the door once more, she stared into the seemingly endless void. ‘What other?’

Italics is Azza's thoughts. The voice speaking to Azza is her mind.

[Christoph]

As the chef paced purposefully toward the portal of wood, he felt his awareness heighten. He began to question what he was doing. It was as though he were on autopilot. Why was he following the crowd out? What was so important about the door, anyway? Besides... he still needed to polish that glass. Chris stopped walking. He turned around and took a step back for the counter.

The door... Life awaits...

A faint, but beautiful feminine whisper echoed in Christopher’s mind. It was unrecognizable; he’d never heard it before in his life. Yet, it was soothing and melodic... comforting. He was compelled to obey it -- to believe that whatever waited beyond the oak gateway would be something marvelous, something wonderful! Brilliant white light flooded in as the door slowly opened. It must be something truly extraordinary such as... a child. A child? Chris had stepped through the door with such enthusiasm that he almost almost knocked over a young girl.

“W-what? Who are you?” inquired the Chef, looking down at the girl. He nearly squinted as a strange aura of light reflected from her silvery hair. He looked back only to realize that the door and the entire tavern had literally dissolved into sand and was swept away by a breeze over the dark field that he now found himself. He turned back to the girl, as though she would have the answers. Perhaps the strange voice had belonged to her. “What’s going on?”

[orphans]

Desert stretch on to the horizon as harsh winds whipped and swirled the grains of sand in seemingly random patterns. The small amount from the disintegrated door couldn’t have formed all of this or could it? There was a voice but more importantly, there was something bleach white near her feet and without thinking, she bent down and retrieved the skull of some long dead animal.

A wolf? No… perhaps a coyote. Tilting her head to one side, her eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man. Without further hesitance, she placed the skull over her head and to her surprise it was a perfect fit. With a gleeful giggle she turned about in a circle once, then twice before stopping to face him with her full attention. Cocking her head to the other side with her red eyes showing through the sockets clearly, she asked in a voice barely above a whisper, “Are you the one I’ve been told to wait for?”

Barely finishing the last syllable the sand beneath them cracked open. An ear splitting roar pierced the air as winged beasts of all shapes and sizes flew overhead while the terrain drained away between their feet. “E’m Azza dae-” the child began but trailed off when a broken body fell between them. Its hollow eyes rotated from the man’s face and then to the girl’s. Taking a step onto the creature's face enticed a giggle from her before she offered her both her hands for him to take.

“… guide me.”

[Christoph]

The chef’s eyes darted around, nervous and confused, as the environment slowly began to swirl and transition around him and the strange girl. The darkening sky began to fill with swarms of flying forms. And strange the child certainly was. She was told to wait for him? By whom? Why was everything so strange. Chris tilted his head and took an awkward step backward as the girl placed some kind of canine skull on her head.

He had just realized that she hadn’t answered his question when one of the strange and terrifying beasts from the sky crashed between them. He recoiled with a start. The creature looked just like a demon from the lore that his librarian friend back home in Salvar studied. Leathery, bat-like wings, fangs, and black claws.

The whole situation only got stranger from there. The environment was still refusing to remain constant. No sooner had a desert formed around them than did it begin to shift once again. Sands drained into oblivion, leaving the two of them standing, once again, inside of a ring of light.

It took but a moment for a new landscape to appear around them, this one even more ominous than the previous. Dark, jagged mountains traced along the horizon of a bleak wasteland, casting an oppressive gaze down at them. An endless labirynth of forbidding ruins materialized to his left.

“Lead you?” he asked, hesitantly taking her hands. “Lead you where? There?” He tilted his head toward the ruins

[orphans]

Even in the ominous landscape the two now stood, there was a sense of calm in the air. If any comfort could be taken from the chaotic events that had transpired it would be the knowledge that the scenery seemed to have stopped shifting for the time being. In fact, everything was deathly silent as if the surroundings were holding its breath. The creature’s head she was previously standing on and its entire body for that matter seemed to be on large rock with no distinguishing feature of what it once was.

Stepping down from the stone surface, she held onto his hands with her own that were freezing cold, and yet there was a feeling as though a certain warmth flowed between their palms. “Guide me,” she repeated but this time with a little more spirit. Even though she was still wearing the skull of some long dead dog her eyes danced with a sort of placid disposition that could soften the heart of golems.

Strands of pale blue light pierced through the dark clouds looming over the mountains of the horizon as twin moons rose into the sky. Rocking back and forth upon her soles while tilting her head back to watch them, she turned to the man once more and this time gave a grin. “I am known by the name Azza.”

No sooner had she said that than she began to tug upon his hands a little in the direction of the labyrinth. “Help me. Guide me. I cannot move unless you do.” In the distance beyond the mountains, a deep roar echoed out that caused small stones to jump. That very instant the ground trembled as a loud crash sounded in the distance, as if something moving their way. Something very large.

[Christoph]

Chris looked down at her warmly as she stepped over the creature -- no wait, it was a rock now... somehow -- and toward him. He smiled at her and laughed. She looked utterly ridiculous with the skull on her head and her mannerisms made little sense. Perhaps that’s how kids usually are... He squeezed her hands and drew her toward him.

“But where do you need to be led to?” asked Chris, glancing around. His first thought was to go into the dark ruins that had materialized nearby. His second thought dismissed his first thought as being foolish because said ruins hardly looked safe, let alone welcoming. His third thought came after a booming, guttural roar descended from distant mountains filled the valley wasteland that they occupied like a cascade of water. “Right... how about somewhere other than that way?” With that, Chris tugged the girl’s hands urgently and took a few steps backwards, leading her with him.

“All right, follow me, then,” he said, trying to feel as confident and in-control as he sounded. He walked beside her, but one pace ahead, holding her left hand in his right. The structures were ancient beyond measure. Little remained of their original forms. The crumbling walls were made from bricks and slabs of grey limestone with dead and shriveled vines were woven through cracks and crevices. Chris could not make out any sign of life, long past or recent, as he and the child made their way through the dilapidated streets. Another roar pierced the silence. It was closer this time.

“Come on,” he urged, pulling on her arm again. “We’d better hurry.”

[orphans]

With the last tug on her hands and his instructions to move faster the small girl simply nodded her head more out of habit. The man’s back was turned to her so unless he had eyes behind his head… well, somehow if that was the case she wouldn’t have been surprised. Even with the urgency of the situation she practically skipped along one step behind, craning her head in every direction to take in the sights.

There wasn’t much to see, at least not for Chris anyways. To him, he simply saw broken buildings, dilapidated structures, and torn streets all overgrown with dead or dying vegetation. To her, it was the nearly the complete opposite. Magnificent sky scrappers rose up on both sides reaching for the heavens, carefully pruned gardens and flowerbeds lined the streets while well-groomed ghosts stalked the streets. “Such marvelous craftsmanship.”

Yet in the end it was her mind that brought forth these images from long oppressed memories of her subconscious. It tore at her psyche and sharp pains began piercing her skull from every angle. On the verge of screaming, it was only when she tripped upon a broken section of the street did the illusionary world of her own creation begun to break apart. Everything seemed to be suddenly ablaze while bricks of the skyscrapers rained from the sky, breaking apart the paved streets, crushing the gardens and slaughtering the few ghosts that had not perished in the flames. Then the child’s make belief surroundings dissipated into the air along with the throbbing pain.

"This way…"

Jerking Christoph’s hand, she pointed towards a crumbling building. Unlike the other structures, it still retained a door and the majority of its walls. The building emitted a feeling of hatred and malice yet also of regret; as if it wanted to devour life but hesitated in doing so. Then there was sudden and brief gust of wind that carried the soft voice of a woman from within the depths of the structure.

“Release me.”

[Christoph]

"Marvelous craftsmanship?" inquired the chef, tilting his head. "You must be seeing something that I'm not, because it seems pretty hard to tell, given the state of this place. Any remnants of so-called 'craftsmanship' have crumbled away centuries ago-- Girl, er, Azza? What's wrong?" Chris looked down at the girl, seeing an expression of pain suddenly twist her innocent features.

"Are you all right?" he asked, more urgently. She continued on, though, until she tripped and stumbled on the broken streets. Chris caught her before she fell and turned her around to look at him. "What's going on?" The only answer her received was a tug and a "this way" from the child. He stopped, though, finding himself before a large, sturdy building. It's frame was carved from solid granite, made solid enough to weather the ages. There was something else different about it, as well. There was a presence within it that made it feel strange compared to the rest of the empty city. It wasn't a pleasant presence, either.

"No... I don't think that we should go in there," cautioned the chef, stopping and pulling Azza back. "Something isn't right..." It was then that a strange, mystifying voice floated on a breeze through the stagnant air. Chris felt a shiver run up his spine as his chef coat ruffled.

'Release me...' The voice was hauntingly beautiful, flowing like silk into his ears. His inhibitions had not faded, yet he felt him body compelled to move forward, almost against his will. It appeared that they were going in no matter what.

[orphans]

Shards of light pierced through the dark distant storm clouds accumulating behind the structure. While the two of them began to move towards the building, the things surrounding images on either side of them began to shift once more. It did not carry them to another land nor another part of the city. Instead, if one cared long enough to glance, tattered tapestries hung in the air to either side of the path, depicting the founding of this forgotten city, the growth, its golden age and then finally, its death. The denizens of the ruined artworks seemed to scream mutely at those heading down the path, as if warning whoever was traveling this road of dangers ahead.

At the end of the pathway the granite building was indeed a testament to the power and culture of the civilization that once stood. Intricate carvings of kings and warriors worn away by weather and time still showed clearly in the stone face. The fantastical creatures that adorned the archway of twin towering doors glared down menacingly at the two, planting the seeds of doubt in the child’s heart. Squeezing Christoph’s hand for reassurance, the same voice they both heard before beckoned them still.

“Release me…”

The doors began to creek under their own weight as they swung inwards at a painfully slow pace. They finally stopped moving and revealed a pitch-black room. The shapes of pillars soared high and disappeared into the dark ceiling while broken shapes littered the ground. What looked like the shape of pews aligned each side of a pathway that disappeared into the depths of this temple of sorts. Somewhere inside were the sounds of a female voice chanting. A different voice. A child’s voice.

“Separate we are, yet become one the time is now.”

It was Azza’s voice, yet she stood by Christoph, motionless. Regardless, the two moved forward into the building and past the massive doors.

“This must be a temple of some kind, though I don’t recognize any of the designs or styles,” Christoph said contemplatively but barely did he finish the last syllable did the doors behind groan and slam shut. The moment in total darkness did not last long as torches mounted on the massive pillars chased away the shadows. The child picked up her hand slowly, hesitated, but then pointed towards the end of the worn carpet. There was a figure with its head drooped and a pair of crimson eyes glaring out from underneath its curtain of white hair. Heavy chains bound the creature to the ground while its arms had been spiked to the granite wall behind.

The small girl uttered a single word with her finger still pointed, “Azza.”

[Christoph]

The pair’s trip through the structure was curious, to say the least. Chris really had no idea where he was going, yet when they finally came to a massive, cavernous room accented with elaborate pillars and an old red carpet, he somehow felt that he’d reached his destination, even as the ornate wooden doors slammed behind them. There was a brooding feeling radiating in the room. He could feel the suffering and hatred even before the lights appeared. The walls were lined with broken alters and the tiled floor was covered in cracks to the point where it looked like a massive spider’s web.

Finally, the chef’s eyes found their way to the opposite side of the chamber. There, a young woman dangled above a low pedestal, bound in chains. She was pale, clothed in rags, and, at first, bore an expression as defiant as it was miserable. Her hair and eyes were identical to the child’s, though the former was a bit longer, and there was blood covering her arms. As Chris began to step forward he realized, to his shock that the blood from the unhealthily skinny woman’s arms was dripping down from where two large, rusted iron nails pierced them and pinned her to the wall.

“Who would do this to another person?” Chris asked, his face both disgusted and horrified. Nausea welled up in him, but he fought it. He needed to release her, somehow. No one deserved such a fate. At first, he walked toward the bound girl... the poor prisoner. After a moment, however, his began to pick up his pace until he reached a jog. “Don’t worry! I’ll get you down.” He reached the far side and immediately began tugging at the chains, hoping to find some way of loosening them. Unfortunately, he was not having much luck.

[orphans]

“It’s no use, save your energy…” Even in her emancipated condition the young woman’s voice was still clear and vibrant. It was, however, bitter and full of distain.

“She’s right you know. You can’t dislodge her like that.” It was the voice of Azza again. Stepping out from behind a column, an exact replica of the child Christoph had been leading could be seen. The garment it was wearing was different though as were a few key features. For one, the “new” Azza had small horns, a pair of tiny wings and a dress that was needless to say, not something of Corone craftsmanship. Bits and pieces of what looked like chainmail were sewn into the fabric while on her right shoulder was a pauldron made of crystals.

The young woman for the first time in a long while lifted her head up to look at the younger girl. As her hair parted from her face it was suddenly quite obvious that she too possessed horns of similar color but were larger. The woman made an effort to move but the attempt was a feeble one, merely causing a few chains to rattle noisily.

Walking closer, the smaller girl laughed before giving a careless shrug. Looking up to Christoph, she passed on a smile that would have soothed the soul of a feral beast but what was said completely erased that image. “If you want to release her you have to kill her.”

Turning around and gesturing to the child Azza who had been standing there blankly, she then focused her attention to Christoph again. “Unfortunate girl isn’t she?” Without looking, she beckoned the child towards the small group with a wave of her hand.

Azza, although terrified at what was transpiring, began walking towards them even though her feet did drag slightly. She wanted to cry and run but it seemed as though her own lips didn’t want to move.

“Monster…” the woman blurted out.

“Quite the contrary…” Stooping up to retrieve what used to be a massive blade from between a broken pillar, she turned to the man once more and offered it to him with it laid out on her palms. “Cut off her head, and then mine… if you have the stomach for it.”

[Christoph]

“Are you out of your mind? asked Chris. He took a step back and stared at the horned child, recoiling from the blade meant to kill the bound woman. There was something that struck the chef as sketchy, for lack of a better term, about the little horned copy of the child called Azza. “Kill her to free her? That doesn’t make any sense.” He advanced back to the chained woman, more determined and defiant this time.

“Besides, she doesn’t seem to be in favor of the whole notion of cutting heads off,” he continued, motioning toward the version of small horned child. Walking right by the girl holding the sword, Chris uttered an incomprehensible syllable and produced a small ball of fire into his hand. He moved the flame toward one of the links in the chain. His eyes met with those of the prisoner for a fleeting instant. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.” At that moment, an ear-splitting bellow shook the very foundation of the building. The guttural roar was followed immediately by a crash against the wall from the outside, sending chandeliers and bricks falling.

“We need to get out of here!” Chris exclaimed, fighting panic as more crashing sounds and bellows came from outside. He recognized the bestial sound; it was from the same monster that had been climbing over the distant mountains into the dead valley. It had somehow followed them! “What do we do?” The original child Azza tilted her skull covered head and gazed at him, once again holding out her hands.

“Guide me,” said Azza calmly. Chris gawked at her until yet another crash came, this one closer. Whatever the creature was, it was literally breaking its way through the outer walls. They needed to find a way out! Then, he spotted a very large and painfully obvious staircase in the corner of the torch-lit chamber. So obvious it was, that the chef was certain that it hand’t been there before. Still, there was no time to ask questions. A low, rumbling voice carried through the air as he grabbed Azza’s hand and ran past the two horned girls, straight for the newly arrived stairs.

The two halves shall not be joined in disharmony!

[orphans]

The chained woman only gazed at the man in a blank fashion. Fire to cut chains of the mind? Is he really to be the one to oversee the melding of this soul? It was too late to think of any other alternatives once the mind had pulled in another. Still, there was something about the man that seemed dependable. It would have been much simpler if Christoph had indeed beheaded her and then the arrogant child as well but as to be expected, he acted as any normal land bound would. He refused.

Dropping the broken blade onto the ground the horned child simply laughed at the man’s refusal. When the structure shook with the roar of the beast and the foundations themselves seemed to be shaking the child watched on calmly. The chained woman only lifted her head at the words of the man.

When Christoph voiced his intentions to flee somewhere the child turned to look only to be surprised at what he did. She did not expect him to grab Azza. Indeed, humans are so unpredictable at times. It was the source of the sound though that began to worry the horned child. Another conscious, here? Now? Perhaps this human was stronger than she had hoped for.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Running closely behind Christoph and down the stairs Azza seemed to be rather calm as though everything was simply another day in the woods. Down and down the two ran into the dark upon the spiraling staircase. Then quite suddenly the two entered a well lit and spacious cavern.

[Christoph]

Firmly grasping Azza’s hand, Chris sprinted down the staircase as fast as he could manage without all-out dragging the small girl with him. Ancient granite faded back to the eroded limestone as the mismatched pair made their way to the bottom of the spiraling stairway. The stomping and crashing sounds continued, however – whatever it was, it was getting closer. On the other hand, anything that could possibly make that much noise would need to be massive, too massive to follow them down the stairs once it managed to smash its way into the temple.

The staircase finally ended in a massive stone chamber. It was not constructed from brick, however. It wasn’t the jagged, stalagmite filled cavern that would be found in caves, either. Instead, it appeared to have been literally carved out of solid rock. Dozens of torches lined the walls, bolted into the solid stone. The light served to illuminate the complete lack of distinction that the huge room possessed: simple grey stone walls and nothing else. There were two long, dark (and ominous, of course) passages leaving the cavernous chamber. More crashing and roars prompted yet another snap decision.

“Come on, Azza. We’d better keep moving.” Chris tugged on the girl’s hand and led her onward. Always go left. Moving at a brisk pace, the chef led the girl onward, into the passageway heading left. As an afterthought, he turned back before leaving and removed one of the torches from the wall. Holding the burning torch in from of them, he pushed onward into the darkness.

So many things were running through his mind that it became difficult to organize them all. At the forefront was the obvious “What in the hell is going on?” This, then, branched off into several other questions that essentially asked the same thing on different scales. These included “who was that creepy, creepy horned child?” , “Where am I? , and, of course, “what is that huge THING and is it going to eat us?” , along with some possible others of less importance at that current moment.

[orphans]

The corridor seemed more and more designed by some sort of creature rather than simply formed out of nature’s whim. As the two made their way deeper the small girl began to notice that the hallway wasn’t exactly straight but rather in a very slight curve.

Tugging on the man’s sleeve to get his attention, she pointed at the walls straight ahead, but said nothing. Upon closer inspection with a careful eye, it seemed to be where they had been with the horned child and woman. Christoph was there as well, leading Azza along but the image was a fabrication of reality. In this version, Christoph is seen holding the blade while the former rejected it.

Azza tilted her head at the image, staring at it for sometime before finally giving a nod of approval. “It has happened then,” she said quite suddenly with no specific context but somewhere in the child’s mind it made sense. Turning her head to the man, she smiled before indicating that they should continue on.

As the two continued to plod along with the torch held by Christoph guiding them, it was soon painfully obvious that the only source of light was what the man held. To make matters worse the ground began to make splashing sounds as if they were walking through water. Groans suddenly began sounding from the darkness both in front and behind them.

[Christoph]

Shuffling and moans began to emanate from the walls of the tunnel. They were soft at first, mere feathers tickling the ears. As the moments dragged on, however, the sounds grew steadily louder. Lurking shadows crept around the corners of the flickering glow of Chris’s torch. As the source of the eerie noise grew closer, the chef began to hear spoken words – mere mumbling and incomprehensible chatter at first.

Suddenly, it was all around them. The light from behind had vanished and was replaced by more skulking forms. Shadows of beasts and unholy demons, creatures from beyond the grave, abominations to nature, blasphemous creations… The chef and the girl were surrounded by unseen foes with no escape. Still, they moved onward, stumbling through the flooded passageway, water filling the chef’s shoes. His eyes darted behind him again. There were shapes moving, but he couldn’t make them out.

A violent splash from in front sent a jolt through Christopher’s spine like shards of glass. The source was a foul beast, indeed. It was a rancid, humanoid creature. It looked as though it had been sewn together from rotting corpses; it had a third arm sticking randomly from its chest and its head was connected to its left shoulder. Its “skin” was green and covered in wound-like sores.

“Graaaaaaah!!!” The creature let out a gargling scream, spraying Chris and the child with slime. More splashes followed as a swarm of the twisted abominations flooded the passage. Multi-limbed ghouls, rancid corpses, and simple walking skeletons shuffled closer, bony claws outstretched. Choked by fear, Chris could do nothing more than grip the child’s hand. Of course, there wasn’t much to be done anyway, being that they were completely trapped. Death seemed certain.

Suddenly, the senseless gurgling mumbles and clumsy stumbling transformed into something different – something organized and rhythmic – something… musical. The creatures were singing. Singing? In fact, they were singing and dancing as they circled around the two. Chris could not understand the language, but it was clearly something cheerful, reminiscent of old Salvarian drinking songs. The chef could do nothing more than to simply stand there, dumbfounded.

“All right… the magically shifting terrain, creepy children, and giant unseen monster I could deal with,” he commented, raising a disturbed eyebrow. “But this… this is just weird!”

[orphans]

After using the back of her arm to wipe some slime away from her eyes it was obvious that curiosity instead of fear danced in them. The different variety of ghouls, ghasts, skeletons and other graveyard cohorts somehow fed the young child’s wild imagination. Tugging at Christopher’s hand for a few moments, she finally let out an annoyed whine before looking up at why he wasn’t moving. To say he was petrified would most likely have been an understatement. It certainly would explain his tight grip.

They were just bones and rotting flesh, which were just cages and vessels for the soul, certainly nothing to be afraid of. At least that was what she was taught. Or was she? It all seemed so long ago but some how everything that had transpired made sense in some odd way, to the child at least.

Then suddenly, just as the mass of grotesque beings neared the two, they stopped a few feet short. The stench of the creatures easily overpowered her nose and it took all the strength she could muster not to vomit. Before she had any chance to ponder about the smell, they began… singing. Singing? Christopher’s reaction and comment lured a small giggle from the child and to her greater delight she managed to slip out from his grasp.

It only took a few steps before she joined the dancing people, if you could call them that. With one hand holding onto skeletal fingers and the other a fleshy something, she joined in their song and dance. Round and round they went circling the befuddled chef until once again, an ear splitting roar sounded down through the tunnel.

Immediately the ghouls and ghasts scattered in terror in an attempt to escape the beast while the skeletons simply shattered into dust with a scream. Even Azza seemed shaken by the noise and quickly bolted to the man’s side and began to tug him deeper into the tunnel with her. The water was getting slightly deeper and as they ran it began to become brighter and brighter. Torches along the wall revealed a crumbling cavern with giant roots spearing through the ceiling and then ground again. Soon, the two were faced with a dead end, blocked in by a massive root that had grown for what would have been eons.

The roar came again and was soon followed by the sounds of splashing water. Something was approaching, something terrifying, something oddly small and fluffy that looked suspiciously like… a bunny? A very sodden and irate looking bunny.

[Christoph]

Chris and the girl sprinted down the tunnel as fast as they could. The entire cavern had, somewhere along the line, transitioned from solid masonry to what appeared to be a naturally formed cave. Tree roots broke through the roof, causing cracks to form down the walls; it was as though they were running through a cancerous vein. This was a good sign, though. He’d spent many afternoons in his teenage years exploring the caves in the mountains near his hometown in Salvar. The roots meant that they were close to the surface; escape might be somewhere in sight. Of course, it also meant that the crumbling tunnel could collapse at any moment if agitated too much, by a giant monster for example, but the chef didn’t want to think about that.

The roars and earth-shaking thuds of heavy, inhuman footsteps drew closer as the chef and child fled for their lives. On that note, it did strike Chris as odd that this massive, unidentified beast would terrify the little girls so much, but the prospect of dancing with undead creatures seemed fun. To be fair, though, there wasn’t a damn thing that he’d seen so far that hadn’t been strange. For this reason, and for the fact that they were running for their lives, he didn’t stop to ask questions.

They just kept running through the deepening water. The mud at the bottom also got thicker, and Chris lost his left shoe as they fled. There was no time to go back for it, nor did he have the time to wonder why the water was getting deeper, even though the cave was getting closer to the surface. At least things were consistently not making sense. They rounded a corner without slowing down. Well, they did slow down when Chris ran headlong into a massive tree root that had grown through the cave, blocking their path, and Azza stopped to laugh at him.

You’re lucky that you’re cute, thought Chris irritably, glaring at the giggling child. She went quiet as the ear-splitting bellow resonated through the cave. It was close, and they were trapped. The chef scrambled to his feet and turned to face whatever came their way. The stomping came closer and closer as whatever it was neared the corner. Then, what was quite possibly the most shocking and, in some ways humiliating, moment of the entire ordeal occurred when a small white bunny hopped out of the gloom from around the corner. It looked just about as angry and horrifying as a small, wet, fuzzy bunny could be. He half-expected the furry creature to lunge at them and eat them alive. It didn’t of course, opting to just hop about and twitch its nose.

“Are you serious?” asked an exasperated Chris to no one in particular. He smacked his own forehead. “What? Is it behind that rabbit?” He turned to Azza for a moment in time to see her extend her hand and point back the way they’d came.

“Yes!” she cried with a controlled sense of urgency that was unusual for a child. At that moment, the roar came again. Chris jerked his head back and saw a massive beast lunge around the corner.

It was a large, humanoid creature; almost three times the height of a man. It hunched over to fit in the tunnel, the horns atop its head scraping the ceiling. Its entire was covered in brown fur. It had the body of a man, the head of a bull, and massive hooves for feet. Hooves, Chris noted, that had just squashed the bunny, leaving behind a sticky, furry mess. Lean muscles rippled through its bestial body as it glared at the chef and child. Its breath reminded Chris of something that had crawled out of the sewers in Radisanth. The most terrifying feature, however, were its eyes, which glowed with a cold intelligence like burning embers. Almost instinctively, Chris pushed Azza behind him and stepped forward, putting himself in between the girl and the beast.

“Stay back!” he warned, knowing fully well that the monster would have no trouble tearing him limb from limb like a child’s toy. A glowing ball of orange fire formed in the chef’s hand, almost the size of a human head. “Back!” The look on the creature’s face could have almost been taken as amusement as it stepped toward the pair of intruders.

[orphans]

A single heavy fist of the creature pounded a few times on the ground before it let out a burst of steam from its nostrils. Crude laughter of some sort seemed to gurgle from the monster’s throat as it eyed the two pitiful figures before itself. Slamming another fist into the wall, the whole cavern shuddered as a few rocks fell from the ceiling while others on the floor… drifted up?

Indeed, with the last strike to the wall from the horned beast, the world seemed to begin tearing apart at a rapid pace. There was a thunderous crack as the land above their heads tore open to a reddened sky filled with raging storms threatening to extinguish the small group. Yet, the child seemed to find complete peace by looking at what was transpiring where as mere moments ago the minotaur had rattled the girl’s sense so.

“We are free for now…” Azza mumbled quietly more to herself. Turning to Christoph with tearing eyes she held out a vanishing hand for him to grasp. All around them, the storms continued to rage silently while every tangible object was reacting the same way as Azza. Everything was simply fading away slowly…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A gentle breeze lifted the drapes ever so slightly while the morning light filtered in the room. Some of the children began to awaken from their dreams and rise from the beds while some rose up off the floor, having fallen off the night before. Giving a hearty yawn, Azza opened her eyes to see another pair of bright blue ones staring back at her.

“You fell off the bed again?” The older girl offered her hand, which Azza took gratefully with a giggle and pulled herself up on her feet. “Go on, get washed, we need to run errands for Mother Holly.”

Giving another yawn, the child nodded her head quickly and ran off to the well with some of the others to wash their faces. Breakfast was already being served while most of the older children were already heading off to their jobs.

“Come on Azza! We’re going to be late!” the blue-eyed girl shouted as she ran past the blanket where the younger children were sitting and eating their meal.

“Mrff cmmnn!” Azza yelled back, careful not to spray the others with breadcrumbs. Grabbing another piece of bread she jumped up and dashed after the older girl towards the market past the inn and baker. Being the normal klutz she was, she managed to trip over her own feet and crashed in front of the inn. The older girl turned around and although she looked worried she couldn’t help but laugh before hurrying back to help Azza up. After dusting off the child, the two started running once more, this time holding hands.

[Christoph]

In a single startling moment, the entire life-threatening situation dissolved – both metaphorically and literally. At first, it seemed as though the hulking beast had caused the cavern to cave in on top of them. Chris fought the urge to scream, and was glad that he did; screaming like a girl is rarely a good idea when you actually live to be embarrassed by it. Instead of caving in, the entire cave faded and dissolved. The chef looked down at the child, and couldn’t help but smile at her serenity. Such innocence. She held her hands out to him, tears in her eyes.

“What was this place?” he asked her, grasping her vanishing hands. Any answer that the child might have had was never uttered as the entire plane of existence swirled into nothing, leaving only blackness.

* * * * *

Chris awoke with a spinning, disoriented feeling in his head. He rolled over in his bed as he tried to piece things together. He was in the Inn in Underwood, and all the extraordinary and confusing events that had just transpired hadn’t actually transpired. It was a dream. He exhaled, relieved. It was a very strange dream, at that.

No more Elven liquor before bedtime for me.

The dream had been extremely vivid, and lingered in his mind. Normally, his dreams and nightmares faded within moments, with the exception of some of the scarier ones from his childhood. The chef sighed and shrugged, not thinking much of it. There was a first time for everything.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Chris shuffled out of his room, nearly stumbling down the stairs into the tavern. It was relatively crowded and noisy for a morning. Several of the townsfolk were talking in loud, urgent voices.

“The Imperial soldiers would never attack Underwood!” said one particularly fat man with a wooly black beard. “So long as Letho Ravenheart lives, we will be safe! A round of agreeing cheers followed.

“Marshal Ravenheart lost the Southern pass!” said a younger, blonde man in a merchant’s robe. “The new Empire swore to retaliate against the Rangers! Their armies are already on their way here. Underwood will burn to the ground!”

“You speak of insanity!” cried the fat man, and the arguments continued.

These are mad times, Chris thought, shaking his head and trying to ignore them. He found it difficult, though. He'd heard the name of Ravenheart as far north as Salvar. Letho was a man of legend. If what the younger man said was true, which very well could have been, then it was well past time for the traveling chef to leave. He strode past the wooden bar, toward the door. On his way, he saw a new bartender, probably the same age that he was, impressing some onlookers with a complicated drink mix.

“And remember, even when you get the all the parts of the mixture right, they need to be combined just right or the whole thing is worthless.” Chris nodded as he passed. The bartender’s words were true, he knew. He’d mixed his share of drinks in the tavern back home. That principle was true for many things, on that note. He pushed his way to the door, swinging it open to feel the cool morning breeze on his face. Then, he stopped in his tracks, mouth gaping.

Stumbling in the street in front of the Inn was a little white-haired girl. The little white-haired girl. He’d seen her in his dream; he was certain, beyond any doubt, that he had. Chris could do no more than stand there, stunned, as she strolled happily down the street, hand-in-hand with another child. But what could it all mean? Before he knew it, the girl and her friend were out of sight.

No matter. Wasting little time, Chris turned around, practically running back into the Inn, nearly knocking a woodsman over in the process. Finding a secluded table, Chris pulled his journal and began jotting down every little detail that he could remember from the dream. It was time to do some research.

[Letho]

General Notes: When I read in the request that this was a quest that takes place in a dream, I have to admit that I was rather suspicious. Usually, when people try to write of such a surreal theme, the results wind up being either too pretentious or too bland. But once I read your quest, I found out that it was neither. It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly an intriguing story that read easily. But let us get onto the rubric.


CONTINUITY – 7

I found a sentence written by Christoph that described the continuity of this story quite well. “At least things were consistently not making sense.” In this case, that’s both a bad and a good thing. Anybody who ever had a dream knows that things seldom make sense and that the unbelievable things happen rather often. However, therein often lies the flaw. If there is no meaning to things that occur, then what’s the point of telling the story? I mean, by telling/writing a story, we try to convey something of some significance. Now, the conclusion made me think that there is some deeper meaning to it all and that this is just the first chapter of the story. But as it stands now, the story lacked some deeper meaning, something I hope you two plan to remedy in the next installment. And this peculiarity directly affected most rubrics.

SETTING – 9

Possibly the best aspect of your quest. Dreams are fickle things and as such often very hard to properly describe, but you two succeeded in making this phantasmagoric world of dreams come alive. Not only was I never left in the dark when it came to the description, but you went beyond the call of duty and made everything so vivid and believable. Well, as believable as a dream can be. The only thing that robbed you of a perfect ten was the whole temple scene which I found a bit lacking in detail. But all in all, it was an excellent job.

PACING – 8

Very good, very fast. There always seemed to be something happening and your characters were constantly on the move. The story kept me glued to the chair, waiting to see what you two will conjure up next, and that’s the effect that every writer should strive to achieve. However, my biggest qualm here is closely connected with continuity. Things were happening and they were happening at a nice pace, but it felt more like channel hopping, where you see an abundance of various images, but you don’t understand most of it. In this case, this isn’t a big flaw, though, since it isn’t a dream, but it’s still something you two should keep in mind.

DIALOGUE – 7

Not too shabby. Given the fact that the majority of this quest took place in a dream, one can’t really expect the usual, real-world dialogue all the time, where everything makes perfect sense. There were a few points where weird sentences popped in out of nowhere, like “The two halves shall not be joined in disharmony!“ written in bold, red letters. Again, probably something that was supposed to mean something, but its significance eluded me. Other then that, it was a pretty decent job.

ACTION – 7

I found this difficult to score and comment on. There was quite a lot of action, but mostly it was the two of you running headlong through the varying scenery. There were sensible parts too, like when Chris refused to chop off the head of the chained girl. And then there were funny parts, like the dancing ghouls and the appearance of the ferocious bunny. I found Azza a bit lacking in this department, though, as if she was just content to sightsee and not do much else.

PERSONA – 5

I have to admit that this was probably the only aspect of your story that somewhat disappointed me. I’m not sure how other people perceive their dreams, but I find that in dreams most of our emotions get amplified almost to an unrealistic heights. Things that scare us a bit in real life usually make us soil our pants in our dreams, and parallel to that, things that make us happy, make us overjoyed. Not all of the time, but dreams are oftentimes filled with various emotions and not all of them are easy to comprehend. In your case, I had a feeling that both Chris and especially Azza took this incredibly vivid dream in stride. And even if you two were aiming at some sort of indifference (probably a result from the fact that they knew it was a dream) I’d like you to focus a bit more on your character’s inner state the next time. Dreams are very good for some introspective.

MECHANICS – 7

Nothing too concerning to report here. Christoph has a tendency of sometimes using comma where he shouldn’t and not using comma when he should (“Christopher called back to the bartender, waving his arm dismissively, before heading up the creaky wooden staircase.” – that last comma wasn’t really necessary), but this occurs sporadically and isn’t a great concern. Other then that and a few typos, this was pretty good for both of you.

TECHNIQUE – 6

I have a feeling that a lot of things that occurred are some sort of an analogy for something yet undisclosed to the reader. But as I can’t clarify whether or this is true, I can’t really score higher then this. I was pleasantly surprised with some details in Chris’s writing, though, like a metaphor here and there. Judging your work before on several occasions, Chris, I have to say that this was a good improvement.

CLARITY – 7

As clear as a dream can be, I think that’s the best comment I can say here. Most of your writing flowed quite well and despite the nature of the quest, I seldom had to focus too hard on something. All in all, good job.

WILD CARD – 7

I do want to see what sort of result would Chris’s research yield and what this shared dream was all about.



TOTAL SCORE – 70

Congratulations!!!



SPOILS:
orphans gets 1000 EXP, 250 GP and a Dreamcatcher which the orphan kids made her out of vines and branches.
Christoph gets 1850 EXP, 250 GP and a book some traveler left in the inn. The book title is “Wanderer’s Guide Through Dreams”.


EXP/GP added!