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Story Hour
Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4237763" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>The Madman: Part 5 – A Dream Vision</strong></p><p></p><p>Kham was walking along a busy street in a city. It was night. He was in a hurry, but there were many other pedestrians about who slowed his progress. </p><p></p><p>Despite his haste, every twenty yards or so Kham was compelled to stop and check that he had his key with him. He pulled it out of an inside pocket of his jacket—it was a large corroded old-fashioned key on a very long loop of string—then thrust it back in. </p><p></p><p>Once, Kham hung it over his arm like a satchel, but he decided it was safer in his pocket and put it back in there. Then, as he took it out one more time, instead of the key he was looking at a small-human-like figure, a fetish lying there in his hand. It was grotesque. There was something else—a sweet, fetid smell on the air, like rotting fruit.</p><p></p><p>Kham looked up, disturbed, and the city was gone to be replaced by a flat landscape punctuated by mounds and hillocks and a few stunted trees. He stood with the others. </p><p></p><p>There was a pressure building as though a storm was in the air. Kham sensed water nearby and the wind blew the smell to him. It was still dark, but he could just make out and count nine shapes, standing stones, placed around him. </p><p></p><p>First the quality of the air changed, then the ground beneath him. Kham’s heart felt too big for his chest. Something was coming.</p><p></p><p>There were cut-off screams. One after another, the people near him winked out like stars. He was alone, looking for the thing. </p><p></p><p>He sensed it at the last moment as it reached out for you, lifting him up. Kham could do nothing but lay there, tiny under its inspection. He couldn’t help but look up into its eyes…</p><p></p><p>Kham woke up in bed. He was sitting bolt upright, his heart racing. </p><p></p><p>He looked over at Fleshripper. The wicked blade lay in its sheathe, just a hunk of inert metal innocently dangling from his bedpost. </p><p></p><p>“We have GOT to get a divorce,” he said to the sword. </p><p></p><p>Kham grabbed a wineskin from a nearby nightstand, took a long swig, and then tried to go back to sleep.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4237763, member: 3285"] [b]The Madman: Part 5 – A Dream Vision[/b] Kham was walking along a busy street in a city. It was night. He was in a hurry, but there were many other pedestrians about who slowed his progress. Despite his haste, every twenty yards or so Kham was compelled to stop and check that he had his key with him. He pulled it out of an inside pocket of his jacket—it was a large corroded old-fashioned key on a very long loop of string—then thrust it back in. Once, Kham hung it over his arm like a satchel, but he decided it was safer in his pocket and put it back in there. Then, as he took it out one more time, instead of the key he was looking at a small-human-like figure, a fetish lying there in his hand. It was grotesque. There was something else—a sweet, fetid smell on the air, like rotting fruit. Kham looked up, disturbed, and the city was gone to be replaced by a flat landscape punctuated by mounds and hillocks and a few stunted trees. He stood with the others. There was a pressure building as though a storm was in the air. Kham sensed water nearby and the wind blew the smell to him. It was still dark, but he could just make out and count nine shapes, standing stones, placed around him. First the quality of the air changed, then the ground beneath him. Kham’s heart felt too big for his chest. Something was coming. There were cut-off screams. One after another, the people near him winked out like stars. He was alone, looking for the thing. He sensed it at the last moment as it reached out for you, lifting him up. Kham could do nothing but lay there, tiny under its inspection. He couldn’t help but look up into its eyes… Kham woke up in bed. He was sitting bolt upright, his heart racing. He looked over at Fleshripper. The wicked blade lay in its sheathe, just a hunk of inert metal innocently dangling from his bedpost. “We have GOT to get a divorce,” he said to the sword. Kham grabbed a wineskin from a nearby nightstand, took a long swig, and then tried to go back to sleep. [/QUOTE]
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