Milo Windby's Collected Story Hour

[Milo Windby]

Milo's dream

That night they all settled down for a good night's rest after the whalloping they took. Milo fell asleep immediately. He started dreaming:

A familiar glow begins to surround you, yet somehow seems weaker or more distant than usual. A whispy, almost ghostly form appears where normally a solid figure of Usamigaras would be. Faintly you hear his voice, as if carried upon the wind...

"Milo, time is growing short. My followers are growing fewer, and my power here is weak. That which is buried there is a Sister to that Beast which is devouring my flocks and enslaving my people. I know not how much longer my people will last. Hurry in your task there and beware lest that Greater Evil which manipulates the events of the day seek to distract you from your greater purpose."

The sound of the night breeze and the light of the moon are all that remain...

 

[frog]

Mazi’s dream:

You are walking among the Sacred Groves of Alfheim. A place that has brought you both peace and hope in troubled times. Peace once again settles on you as the sun sets. The leaves are green…the air fresh. As you reach out to touch one of the sacred trees you hesitate as you see blood from a cut on your finger drip to touch the leaf. As your blood touches the leaf, it seems to spread through the veins of the tree. The tree hardens, crystallizes. The leaves turn to glass, almost obsidian in their appearance. The trunk looks translucent like crystal. All around you, the natural green of growth has turned to crystal and glass…beautiful in form yet hard and cold to the touch. You bring your cut finger to your mouth and see the blood, not red…but black as oil oozing from the wound. You look to the sky to find answers and see that the sun has not set…but rather has darkened…as though seen through a darkened filter.

 

[frog]

Brigit’s Dream

Darkness. Endless space filled with giant cubes of clashing metal. One comes closer, a flaming pit scores its surface. Inward, onward you fly to the center of the conflagration. Hammers ringing out, deafening. Smiths chained to the forges, heat unbearable. Your father is among them, whipped, beaten bloodied. Above them all stands a Dwarf with a whip whose shadow casts great wings of darkness upon the walls. And over all lies the image of a Sword whose length spans the stars and whose touch brings Death.

 

[frog]

Jeremiah’s dream:

Soaring, eagle like, you look down through the clouds. Beneath you lays the Plateau, home to the Tribes. For years they have been scattered, their strength spent in quarrels amongst themselves. Invigorated by the morning air and bright sun, you glide amongst the clouds, far away from the disharmony below. Off to the west you see clouds gathering. A darkness not of this world slowly creeps towards your homeland…smothering it in shadows. Hidden by the shadows is an army…and a silent figure behind them…that of an armored man. His hands reach towards his helm and remove the faceplate. A face which you have seen before…in a mirror located in a place full of Death. The face slowly changes, dozens of others seem to overlay the one which you saw in the mirror yet you know in your soul that all of them are the same Being. And as his armies reach your homeland you hear his laughter as if it were the screams of your family and friends lain out upon the rack of despair…then all fades to darkness as the echoes of laughter reverberate through your mind.

 

[Darklone]

Elves rule!

Gladly elves don't dream

 

[frog]

Gladly elves don't dream

As she drifted off into her nightly meditation...this one did. That in and of itself should be a bit scary

 

[Brigit Deeperdown]

RBDM

Frog
Okay now you deserve the Rat Bastard DM award. But just so you know when I find that priest I am gonna beat him to a bloody pulp then have Milo heal him so I can beat him some more.

 

[Darklone]

hehehe

As she drifted off into her nightly meditation...this one did. That in and of itself should be a bit scary

Got that melody in my head... Marilyn Manson ... "Sweet dreams are made of fears... "

"Now dream a little dream of me....", sang the demon as he walked home...

 

[frog]

Another Monday night gaming session completed.

Brigit has decided that she doesn't like being the first one through doors anymore. Mazi found some old friends wallowing in a dungeon. A freed prisoner sheds some light on the inner workings of the temple and Milo finds a girlfriend.

All this and more in the next Storyhour update.

 

[Milo Windby]

Another Monday night gaming session completed.

Milo finds a girlfriend.

All this and more in the next Storyhour update.

Nuh uh, nooooo way. Milo's a swingin' bachelor. No girlfriends here. Old Mother Skrang has met Milo's alter-ego, a 4' short human he changes self into in unfriendly environments. Milton Waffleby...yeah, that's the ticket...Milton Waffleby. Regardless, Milton isn't exactly a willing subject in this matter anyway. All I have to say is be very careful when bartering for healing potions from Mother Skrang. Just don't be too nice. She's got a single daughter that would give a medusa a run for the money, and a temperment to match.

I just hope I can capture the dialog we had during play. Frog speaking in a wheedling high pitch brogue while all hunched over is a sight, and sound, to be experienced. I never knew buying healing potions could be so...what's the word...different? Interesting? Horrifying?