[sblock=OOC for Starman]You can go ahead and make any rolls for healing that you need to, if Cellan's able to heal Herev right now.[/sblock][sblock=Assumption]I'm going to assume that Bloodweaver1's post is the last thing anyone wants to post before y'all sleep. For watch order, I'm going to assume that Zeegra and Herev will take the first, Cole will take the second, and Cian and Cellan the third — that'll guarantee all the casters eight hours of sleep. I put Cole on alone this time, I'd assume it'd be Herev the next (none of the rest of the group can really take a watch by themselves — the fighters are just that much tougher).[/sblock]The night itself passes uneventfully, at least insofar as the watches are concerned. Your dreams, however, are perhaps more vivid that usual.[sblock=Cellan's Dream]You see a land of snow and ice stretching countless miles before you. A white tiger stands next to you, watching you curiously. From the snow rises a beautiful marble statue. A woman with elven features, but slightly broader, as if she were human, too. She wears simple peasant garb and holds a lily in her left hand. She looks over her shoulder at something, a slight smile on her lips. The tiger walks towards the statue and curls around it protectively, continuing to regard you. It seems almost amused.[/sblock][sblock=Cian's Dream]You see a land of snow and ice stretching countless miles before you. A white tiger stands next to you, watching you curiously. The ice breaks into a giant fissure, and in front of you is a subterranean village, similar in style and architecture to your home. Silent and peaceful, like a church or library. Nothing happens. And then the silence is broken by a cacophony of tin flutes, playing faster and faster. Eventually, this chaotic note is replaced by a perfect, golden chord, so pure that its very sound overwhelms the image before you, leaving nothing but its brilliance. Almost imperceptibly, you can hear the tiger start to purr.[/sblock][sblock=Cole's Dream]You see a land of snow and ice stretching countless miles before you. A white tiger stands next to you, watching you curiously. And then, growing out of the snow, a castle. And a village with peasants. Human peasants, out from under the yoke of the Erlkonig and his elven lords. A strong, broadshouldered man in a heavy cloak stands on the ramparts looking down on the peasants. When he waves to them, they cheer. All goes black and then the vision is replaced by a silvered bastard sword on a purple robe, trimmed in ermine. The pommel is a tiger's head, it's mouth open and ears pulled back.[/sblock][sblock=Ghur's Dream]You see a land of snow and ice stretching countless miles before you. A white tiger stands next to you, watching you curiously. The earth starts to slide away, revealing enormous granite halls, some of them partially submerged, with elaborate, ornate stonework. The smells of burning coal and ale assail your nostrils, and from everywhere you hear the sounds of laughter and of iron being struck at the forge. As you watch, the waters recede, and you are swept down the corridor until you face a giant pair of iron doors marred only by a complex ornamental knocker shaped like a tiger's head.[/sblock][sblock=Herev's Dream]You see a land of snow and ice stretching countless miles before you. A white tiger stands next to you, watching you curiously. The land splits as a river rushes through, carving it's own path. Despite the snow, the river is bright and warm, just as it would be on a summer's day. You can see a school of fish breaking some ways downstream. Everything fades to black momentarily, and the vision is replaced by a stone hall, empty, save for a king on his throne. His left leg is mangled beyond repair and he holds a wooden bowl full of a deep red wine in his lap. The tiger looks at you quizzically.[/sblock][sblock=Zeegra's Dream]You see a land of snow and ice stretching countless miles before you. A white tiger stands next to you, watching you curiously. Suddenly, the cold and snow are shut out, and you're in an endless library, its stacks filled to the point of overflowing with books and scrolls. In front of you is a table with an open tome on it. You cannot read the language that the text is written in, but you can clearly make out a single arcane sigil written in a bold Draconic. It means, roughly translated, "understanding." The tiger reaches up with it's paw and closes your eyes. In your mind, you can hear a deep voice say, "Not yet."[/sblock]And, then, you wake up. Over night, somehow, the weather has turned colder, and with the first rays of the morning's light, you feel snow falling on the ground. Winter has arrived.
