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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4329752" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Shattered Dreams: Part 5 – Interpreting the Dream</strong></p><p></p><p>The silver path they followed took them through the swirling dreamscape, but the images were darker, older, and more twisted than before. Half-seen visions from their worst fears lurked through the craggy ruins of architectural styles not seen for centuries. </p><p></p><p>Kham noticed a high window in a brown building on his right. Ragged curtains flew out in the wind, fluttering like streamers. They must have been moving in a freak breeze, because a flag about them hung limp. Suddenly, they whipped out of sight, and for a second a pale face replaced them. It looked directly down at Kham, with an unreadable expression on its frozen, paper-white face.</p><p></p><p>“You okay Kham?” asked Vlad. Kham had stopped, staring up at the distance building. But the mists obscured the face and the building.</p><p></p><p>“I’m fine,” said Kham, shrugging Vlad off. </p><p></p><p>Finally they were surrounded in fog so thick they could barely see the path a foot ahead. Then, through the fog, a small cottage was visible. It was made of rotting, crumbling wood with a dirty straw roof. Standing in front of the cottage, listlessly hacking at the barren ground with a rusty hoe, was a brawny, barrel-chested dwarf with scarred brown skin and fiery red hair and beard. He showed no notice of their arrival. </p><p></p><p>The dwarf looked up, blinking slowly. "Hello. Who are you,” he said in a flat monotone without any apparent interest in the answer. </p><p></p><p>Kham stepped forward. “I know you,” he said. “I’ve seen you in my dreams. You’re the Creator, aren’t you?”</p><p></p><p>“I am he,” said the dwarf. “My name is Nubuto, and I created Fleshripper.”</p><p></p><p>“We’re here to destroy it,” said Kham. “It’s been twisted into a weapon of evil.”</p><p></p><p>"Ah," the dwarf said sadly. "I had hoped that it would serve as a tool for good, but I see now that that is not the case. Very well…I will do as you ask. Take my hand." He extends one callused hand towards Kham. </p><p></p><p>As Kham grasped the dwarf's hand, the grip became a vise. Then the dwarf’s body erupted into a much larger, uglier and much more muscular shape. </p><p></p><p>"Your soul is mine!" it bellowed through misshapen teeth as its massive arms began to squeeze. </p><p></p><p>“AAAH!” Kham shouted back. He tugged away from the thing, but the grip tightened. “What the hell?” The ring that granted Kham freedom from all bindings was not with him. </p><p></p><p>Suddenly the mists parted, and where the cottage once stood, there was a gaping maw of a Coryani-style arena. All around them, a mob of spectators screamed for blood and glory. Kham recognized many of them as victims of Fleshripper. </p><p></p><p>To his left were the citizens of Vestalanium. There was the former guard; his small gladius was useless against Fleshripper’s superior reach. He recognizes the barmaid; Kham had slit her throat with Fleshripper. Kham had hacked the leg off of an old man, who stood drenched in blood to the right of the barmaid.</p><p></p><p>To his right were the citizens of Dunover. He had killed several of them, including an old woman. The pretty, plump village maid who had tried to kill him was also there. They were all there.</p><p></p><p>The massive figure, all traces of its former dwarven shape gone, barred the way to the closed portcullis on the opposite side of the arena exit. Except for its size, the thing looked exactly like the hobgoblin chieftain from whom Kham originally took Fleshripper. </p><p></p><p>“I want my blade BACK!” it roared. </p><p></p><p>Kham fumbled for one of the pistols in the folds of his jacket. Then he remembered how the Dreamheart worked. </p><p></p><p>“I don’t have it.” Kham pointed his open hand at the hobgoblin’s face. “But I do have this!” A flintlock pistol appeared in Kham’s grip. He pulled the trigger.</p><p></p><p>The thing lolled backwards, its head ruined. It released its grip on Kham.</p><p></p><p>“Run for the exit!” he shouted.</p><p></p><p>Kham dove past it as the thing began to twitch. </p><p></p><p>“What the…” was all Vlad got out before its arm snaked forward, grabbing him by the ankle. </p><p></p><p>Dril spun, drawing his two blades. “Can’t you imagine us at the Creator or something?” </p><p></p><p>Ilmarė blinked. “Let’s see…”</p><p></p><p>Dril faded away.</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė sat down, cross-legged, and closed her eyes. The thing stomped towards her. It lifted a huge axe overhead…</p><p></p><p>Only to bring it down where the elorii had once been.</p><p></p><p>Vlad and Beldin looked at each other across the monster’s hunched form. “Well, now what do we do?” asked Vlad.</p><p></p><p>“I’m trying not to take it personally,” said Beldin. He rolled to the side as the thing’s axe gouged a furrow in the sand. “Run for the exit!”</p><p></p><p>They ran.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4329752, member: 3285"] [b]Shattered Dreams: Part 5 – Interpreting the Dream[/b] The silver path they followed took them through the swirling dreamscape, but the images were darker, older, and more twisted than before. Half-seen visions from their worst fears lurked through the craggy ruins of architectural styles not seen for centuries. Kham noticed a high window in a brown building on his right. Ragged curtains flew out in the wind, fluttering like streamers. They must have been moving in a freak breeze, because a flag about them hung limp. Suddenly, they whipped out of sight, and for a second a pale face replaced them. It looked directly down at Kham, with an unreadable expression on its frozen, paper-white face. “You okay Kham?” asked Vlad. Kham had stopped, staring up at the distance building. But the mists obscured the face and the building. “I’m fine,” said Kham, shrugging Vlad off. Finally they were surrounded in fog so thick they could barely see the path a foot ahead. Then, through the fog, a small cottage was visible. It was made of rotting, crumbling wood with a dirty straw roof. Standing in front of the cottage, listlessly hacking at the barren ground with a rusty hoe, was a brawny, barrel-chested dwarf with scarred brown skin and fiery red hair and beard. He showed no notice of their arrival. The dwarf looked up, blinking slowly. "Hello. Who are you,” he said in a flat monotone without any apparent interest in the answer. Kham stepped forward. “I know you,” he said. “I’ve seen you in my dreams. You’re the Creator, aren’t you?” “I am he,” said the dwarf. “My name is Nubuto, and I created Fleshripper.” “We’re here to destroy it,” said Kham. “It’s been twisted into a weapon of evil.” "Ah," the dwarf said sadly. "I had hoped that it would serve as a tool for good, but I see now that that is not the case. Very well…I will do as you ask. Take my hand." He extends one callused hand towards Kham. As Kham grasped the dwarf's hand, the grip became a vise. Then the dwarf’s body erupted into a much larger, uglier and much more muscular shape. "Your soul is mine!" it bellowed through misshapen teeth as its massive arms began to squeeze. “AAAH!” Kham shouted back. He tugged away from the thing, but the grip tightened. “What the hell?” The ring that granted Kham freedom from all bindings was not with him. Suddenly the mists parted, and where the cottage once stood, there was a gaping maw of a Coryani-style arena. All around them, a mob of spectators screamed for blood and glory. Kham recognized many of them as victims of Fleshripper. To his left were the citizens of Vestalanium. There was the former guard; his small gladius was useless against Fleshripper’s superior reach. He recognizes the barmaid; Kham had slit her throat with Fleshripper. Kham had hacked the leg off of an old man, who stood drenched in blood to the right of the barmaid. To his right were the citizens of Dunover. He had killed several of them, including an old woman. The pretty, plump village maid who had tried to kill him was also there. They were all there. The massive figure, all traces of its former dwarven shape gone, barred the way to the closed portcullis on the opposite side of the arena exit. Except for its size, the thing looked exactly like the hobgoblin chieftain from whom Kham originally took Fleshripper. “I want my blade BACK!” it roared. Kham fumbled for one of the pistols in the folds of his jacket. Then he remembered how the Dreamheart worked. “I don’t have it.” Kham pointed his open hand at the hobgoblin’s face. “But I do have this!” A flintlock pistol appeared in Kham’s grip. He pulled the trigger. The thing lolled backwards, its head ruined. It released its grip on Kham. “Run for the exit!” he shouted. Kham dove past it as the thing began to twitch. “What the…” was all Vlad got out before its arm snaked forward, grabbing him by the ankle. Dril spun, drawing his two blades. “Can’t you imagine us at the Creator or something?” Ilmarė blinked. “Let’s see…” Dril faded away. Ilmarė sat down, cross-legged, and closed her eyes. The thing stomped towards her. It lifted a huge axe overhead… Only to bring it down where the elorii had once been. Vlad and Beldin looked at each other across the monster’s hunched form. “Well, now what do we do?” asked Vlad. “I’m trying not to take it personally,” said Beldin. He rolled to the side as the thing’s axe gouged a furrow in the sand. “Run for the exit!” They ran. [/QUOTE]
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