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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Spider_Jerusalem" data-source="post: 2414514" data-attributes="member: 5507">Interlude Number Six: A Tale of VisionsThe table was set for a grand feast. The wandering minstrels, clothed in such an array of splendid colours and fashions, vied for the attention of the many, many guests. The music of the hall seemed to provide a rhythm to the conversation and laughter that echoed between the walls of the tower. Milo was pleased. He was certainly hungry, and the food that was laid before him was beyond even his culinary imaginations. Basted bulette meat stuffed with cornsour, roasted kingswood potatoes, a platter of sautéed rothe sirloin that seemed too far down the table for Milo’s liking, frosted Amn salad, Underdark fungus crackers with firebug spread. It went on and on. His company was of a great many races, their differences seemingly cast aside for this joyous occasion, though Milo could truly not guess at the reason for such a lavish party. Directly across from him was an aged dwarf who seemed intent on hoarding all the stonebread he could see, despite the food replenishing itself when he wasn’t looking. On either side of Milo sat two men who seemed to be friends, each wearing a chainmail shirt covered in a thick brown doublet with a family signet emblazoned on the front (a castle tower entwined with the stem of a rose). Milo had resolved himself many times to ask if the men wished to sit next to each other, but no sooner had he chosen his moment to ask than another platter would appear with food too tempting to forget. And so this revelry continued. The guests dined and laughed as if it would never end. Above them all, the stars blazed in a scattering of brilliant white points, for the ceiling of the hall had been removed, presumably for the guests’ enjoyment. And as such, the sky and stars were a great talking point of the feast. Milo was eager for conversation to spill his way, and so chose what he assumed to be a common interest of the feast, the green star that moved gently between the constellations. As soon as he began to ask questions of this to the men beside him, he was ignored completely. His chosen topic seemed to be void at this particular party, so Milo decided to ignore the company and concentrate upon the food.The feast pressed on, and the courses changed again and again. More meat was laid in front of Milo and he found himself eating more than he had ever before, as if the food would not fill him at all. His thoughts dwelt upon this subject for a while before he became aware of a man watching him. He sat across the table and a few seats to the left, his plate was clear and the persons about him simply talked through him, as if they could not see him.His face was angular and stretched, the skin pulled tight across his rigid bones. Beneath his faintly hooked nose, his lips were thin and pale, almost non-existent. However, his eyes were sharp and black in grey, hollow sockets. His hands were placed on the table, his fingers formed a lattice in front of him as he stared back at Milo. His dark robes faded into the surrounding guests like spider webs and shadow.“Milo…” whispered the man. His eyes swivelled upwards as he spoke.Milo tried to answer, but his mouth was dry and dead. He could feel his tongue scatter to dust as he moved, his throat stripped bare of muscle and flesh.“Milo…” said the man again, his hands slowly drifting apart. His face was tilted upwards, his eyes blazing with a lust for something above. His hands found the table and the man poured slowly onto the tabletop, his robes spilling across the food like poisoned water. Milo tried to react, but his hands were withered and old, like his dear grandmother. The guests around him seemed oblivious to the man now standing on the table, his robe trailing into their laps and meals as his grey and cracked arms raised towards the sky.Milo saw then, the green star had rushed onwards. It was no star, but a mighty comet, hurtling towards them with great gouts of emerald flame leaping from it. The once faint green light now bathed the entire hall in a sickly glow. The man stood now, his arms outstretched to the onrushing fireball as if it were a child coming to its father. His face was no longer withered and dead, but joyous and wicked, his eyes black opals of desire and greed, and his mouth a jagged slit of vicious laughter. And still, Milo could not move, for his insides were nothing. The light blazed forwards, the guests still laughing and smiling, for they could not see the danger that was bearing upon them.“Milo…” the man said again, his hideous face curling into a mocking smile.“Milo!” this time more deep and urgent as the green light drowned the hall.“Milo!” his face cracked and the guests peeled away, their joyous faces still unconcerned as the light burned and charred them.“MILO!”</blockquote>

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