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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 2890409" data-attributes="member: 5203"><p><strong>Dreamtime</strong></p><p></p><p>The first of three pieces of fiction that were written following the "Price of Victory" adventure, this one comes from Lanara's player.</p><p></p><p>-------------------------------</p><p></p><p> Lanara woke to an empty bed and moonlight shining in her window, setting the room faintly aglow. It still annoyed her sometimes that Razael, like all other elves, didn't need to sleep. It would have been comforting to have him here right now to hold her, to banter with her, to take her nind off the dream she'd just had. </p><p></p><p> But this wasn't about her and Razael. And it wasn't the first time she'd had this particular dream either. Lanara thought for a minute, trying to remember the first time the dream had manifested. It seemed to her that must have been after the dreadful battle with the Ravagers so long ago, after she'd truly realized the romantic tension between Tolly, Kyle and Autumn. Yes, that was it. That was when she'd begun having dreams of Autumn's wedding. </p><p></p><p> At first they'd been normal images of pomp and frivolity. Well, as frivolous as she could imagine Autumn being, anyway. Some of the dreams had been pretty hilarious, picturing Arrie in various monstrosities of gowns denoting "maid of honor," for Lanara knew at the core of her being that Autumn would choose no other for that precious role. When Lanara thought about it in her waking hours, she still found the idea of Arrie in wedding attendant garb something to snicker about. While the two so very different suitors had still been vying for first place in the sentinel's heart, the wedding had taken on varying degrees of amusement value as well. When she dreamed Kyle was the groom, he did everything from stuttering over the vows to showing up in his old school robes covered with dirt, to showing up late wearing nothing at all. In the dreams where Tolly had won out, things were much more somber and highly dignified, even when, at his insistence on keeping with Ardaran tradition, the priest and guests all tossed dirt at the happy couple. </p><p></p><p> After Autumn had made her choice clear back in Miracle, the dreams had taken a different turn. Things like Tolly showing up at the wedding and pelting Kyle with stones, or causing the earth to swallow the wizard before the couple could complete their vows and throwing Autumn over his shoulder and hauling her off to some Ardaran stronghold. At first Lanara had ascribed this to some of what she knew about teenaged boys and the generalities of jealousy for jilted lovers. However, the feelings of a wedding doomed did not let up even after Tolly had chosen to leave the party to join the Ardaran Church in M'dos. </p><p></p><p> Lanara rolled over in her bed, eyes searching the surroundings of her room at the ducal manor in Vargas. Thinking back on the dreams like this made her wonder whether or not she was just jealous herself. It would be a simple explanation for the earlier dreams, the ones that were so amusing. Simple female jealousy over something that she didn't have for herself. But then when she thought harder about it, she realized that wasn't the case. At least when Autumn did marry, she would never (legally) have to answer to Auror for anything ever again, and after having met the woman Lanara could not begrudge Autumn that particular freedom.</p><p></p><p> Sighing heavily, Lanara gathered the comforter around her body and went to sit in a chair by the window. For a moment, she wondered where the tracker might be, then realized that it didn't really matter at the moment. Raz would probably just shrug it off as some female vapors or undigested vegetables or something and persuade her back into bed. But she liked that about him...no deep emotional ties involved, and if they called things off tomorrow, they could still be friends, she was sure of it. Not that either of them were incapable of deep emotions, they were just very careful where they spent that kind of energy. Lanara, for example, dearly loved her father, but since she hadn't seen or even heard from him in so long she didn't really even think about him much. And Raz could clearly be deadly in his devotion to any chosen target. But for both of them, their lives of wandering had taught them to let things and people be, if not disposable, at least leavable as necessity demanded. Although given the reaction to her instruments lately, Lanara wasn't sure she could choose to leave them any more. Bu that was another problem entirely...</p><p></p><p> Back to the problem at hand. The dream. After the excursion to the South Pole (cursed, cursed boat!), after the party had found out about the thrice-bedamned Scion-watchers her dreams of the upcoming nuptials had indeed become disturbing. How could one look forward to a wedding that ended in the death of the groom? Lanara shuddered, but did not try to fool herself into thinking it was a chill from the window. The events had worsened in her dreams, to the point where she was almost willing to call them nightmares. Autumn in a black gown, crying bitterly, a church full of mourners, a solemn priest, a funeral pyre. Blood staining the bride's hands, Arrie in full armor, Madrone leading farewell prayers for Kyle's soul. Razael and Tolly at the head of the Verahannen guards and Kyle's relatives acting as pallbearers. And in the shadows of the gathering lurked beings as varied as their enemies: Marrek, Xerxes, Auxariel, the leader of the Scion-watchers' cell they had destroyed, Aranal, Hungai, Neville, the ex-count Robar who kept shifting into the cornugon who had taken over his body, the orc who had slain Autumn, countless, faceless, nameless others. Above it all, drowing out the funeral dirge and the eulogy, a blaring of trumpets. It was one of these horrors that had filled her with such trepidation tonight. Only months to the wedding, weeks really and though the situation in Vargas was coming under control, there were so many loose ends to be tied up! </p><p></p><p> Lanara threw the comforter off and stood to pace the room. Again she wished that Raz were here to distract her, and suddenly the room they frequently shared was far too confining for the magnitude of her musings. Grabbing her dressing gown, she left the room and wandered the halls of the mansion the party currently called home. Candles flickered in the sconces outside each door, making it easy for the cansin to navigate quietly. There was no getting past the elven guard posted at the door to Autumn's suite unseen, but she assured him that she was simply restless and bid him good watch. She made a complete circuit of the interior of the manor, wondering to herself how many times the others had done the same thing on other sleepless nights. </p><p></p><p> After assuring herself that there was nothing that needed anyone's attention, let alone hers, Lanara let her feet carry her back to her own room. Instead of crawling back into bed or curling up in the chair by the window again, she pulled another chair up to her desk. The familiarity of the items on the desk was reassuring to her - inkwell, pens, her journal, and a variety of parchments including her copy of Kyle and Autumn's wedding invitation. A frown crossed her face as she re-read the invite, and she rolled it back up and placed it in one of the desk drawers. After a moment, she pulled her journal close and started flipping through the pages. She grinned at some of her more sarcastic entries and grew misty-eyed at others. It was a sizable tome, and dated to her graduation from the Tower. It spent a lot of time in her haversack, but when she had the leisure she was faithfully recording the Legacy's adventures from her own perspective. Thanks to her bardic training, both on the road with the hin and in the more formal classrooms of the Tower, she had a very accurate memory, and a trick of shorthand she had developed to save space in the book. She didn't know where she might be when she finally ran out of pages, and she didn't want some of her observations to be deciphered if someone unauthorized ever got hold of it. After wincing through some early versions of some of her now-renowned works, she decided that if nothing else, writing about these damned dreams might help her get some sort of peace tonight, at least. Uncapping her inkwell, she selected a pen and began to write...</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">The Bride Wore Black </span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Regal she stood</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Bravely facing the altar</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Willing her body and heart</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Not to falter.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Clutching the rose </span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">That she held in her hand</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">A thorn pricked her skin</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Blood stained the gold band.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">She swallowed her tears</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">When the trumpeters blew</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">The fanfare announcing</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">The man she loved true.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">All heads turned</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">As he entered the hall</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">A friend to those gathered</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">And hero to all.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">She watched him approaching</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Her eyes glowing bright</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">While relections from torches</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Cast flickering light.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Priests began chanting</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">As the groom was brought near</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">The lady was trembling</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">With ill-controlled fear.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">The prayers were said</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">And final vows made</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Tears wiped away</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">and fond farewells bade.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">His body was laid</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">On the funeral pyre</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">With the rose as we cried</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">For the love lost to fire.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p><p></p><p></p><p> So many things could still go wrong! She had hoped that after Kyle's family had been made safe and Vargas began to come fully under Autumn's control that these dreams would subside. Obviously not. Something still lurked beyond the edges of what the Legacy could influence, waited to disrupt their plans yet again. Lanara capped the inkwell and placed the pen back in the holder. She left the journal open so the ink could dry, and with a final glance at the now-setting moon, climbed back into bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 2890409, member: 5203"] [b]Dreamtime[/b] The first of three pieces of fiction that were written following the "Price of Victory" adventure, this one comes from Lanara's player. ------------------------------- Lanara woke to an empty bed and moonlight shining in her window, setting the room faintly aglow. It still annoyed her sometimes that Razael, like all other elves, didn't need to sleep. It would have been comforting to have him here right now to hold her, to banter with her, to take her nind off the dream she'd just had. But this wasn't about her and Razael. And it wasn't the first time she'd had this particular dream either. Lanara thought for a minute, trying to remember the first time the dream had manifested. It seemed to her that must have been after the dreadful battle with the Ravagers so long ago, after she'd truly realized the romantic tension between Tolly, Kyle and Autumn. Yes, that was it. That was when she'd begun having dreams of Autumn's wedding. At first they'd been normal images of pomp and frivolity. Well, as frivolous as she could imagine Autumn being, anyway. Some of the dreams had been pretty hilarious, picturing Arrie in various monstrosities of gowns denoting "maid of honor," for Lanara knew at the core of her being that Autumn would choose no other for that precious role. When Lanara thought about it in her waking hours, she still found the idea of Arrie in wedding attendant garb something to snicker about. While the two so very different suitors had still been vying for first place in the sentinel's heart, the wedding had taken on varying degrees of amusement value as well. When she dreamed Kyle was the groom, he did everything from stuttering over the vows to showing up in his old school robes covered with dirt, to showing up late wearing nothing at all. In the dreams where Tolly had won out, things were much more somber and highly dignified, even when, at his insistence on keeping with Ardaran tradition, the priest and guests all tossed dirt at the happy couple. After Autumn had made her choice clear back in Miracle, the dreams had taken a different turn. Things like Tolly showing up at the wedding and pelting Kyle with stones, or causing the earth to swallow the wizard before the couple could complete their vows and throwing Autumn over his shoulder and hauling her off to some Ardaran stronghold. At first Lanara had ascribed this to some of what she knew about teenaged boys and the generalities of jealousy for jilted lovers. However, the feelings of a wedding doomed did not let up even after Tolly had chosen to leave the party to join the Ardaran Church in M'dos. Lanara rolled over in her bed, eyes searching the surroundings of her room at the ducal manor in Vargas. Thinking back on the dreams like this made her wonder whether or not she was just jealous herself. It would be a simple explanation for the earlier dreams, the ones that were so amusing. Simple female jealousy over something that she didn't have for herself. But then when she thought harder about it, she realized that wasn't the case. At least when Autumn did marry, she would never (legally) have to answer to Auror for anything ever again, and after having met the woman Lanara could not begrudge Autumn that particular freedom. Sighing heavily, Lanara gathered the comforter around her body and went to sit in a chair by the window. For a moment, she wondered where the tracker might be, then realized that it didn't really matter at the moment. Raz would probably just shrug it off as some female vapors or undigested vegetables or something and persuade her back into bed. But she liked that about him...no deep emotional ties involved, and if they called things off tomorrow, they could still be friends, she was sure of it. Not that either of them were incapable of deep emotions, they were just very careful where they spent that kind of energy. Lanara, for example, dearly loved her father, but since she hadn't seen or even heard from him in so long she didn't really even think about him much. And Raz could clearly be deadly in his devotion to any chosen target. But for both of them, their lives of wandering had taught them to let things and people be, if not disposable, at least leavable as necessity demanded. Although given the reaction to her instruments lately, Lanara wasn't sure she could choose to leave them any more. Bu that was another problem entirely... Back to the problem at hand. The dream. After the excursion to the South Pole (cursed, cursed boat!), after the party had found out about the thrice-bedamned Scion-watchers her dreams of the upcoming nuptials had indeed become disturbing. How could one look forward to a wedding that ended in the death of the groom? Lanara shuddered, but did not try to fool herself into thinking it was a chill from the window. The events had worsened in her dreams, to the point where she was almost willing to call them nightmares. Autumn in a black gown, crying bitterly, a church full of mourners, a solemn priest, a funeral pyre. Blood staining the bride's hands, Arrie in full armor, Madrone leading farewell prayers for Kyle's soul. Razael and Tolly at the head of the Verahannen guards and Kyle's relatives acting as pallbearers. And in the shadows of the gathering lurked beings as varied as their enemies: Marrek, Xerxes, Auxariel, the leader of the Scion-watchers' cell they had destroyed, Aranal, Hungai, Neville, the ex-count Robar who kept shifting into the cornugon who had taken over his body, the orc who had slain Autumn, countless, faceless, nameless others. Above it all, drowing out the funeral dirge and the eulogy, a blaring of trumpets. It was one of these horrors that had filled her with such trepidation tonight. Only months to the wedding, weeks really and though the situation in Vargas was coming under control, there were so many loose ends to be tied up! Lanara threw the comforter off and stood to pace the room. Again she wished that Raz were here to distract her, and suddenly the room they frequently shared was far too confining for the magnitude of her musings. Grabbing her dressing gown, she left the room and wandered the halls of the mansion the party currently called home. Candles flickered in the sconces outside each door, making it easy for the cansin to navigate quietly. There was no getting past the elven guard posted at the door to Autumn's suite unseen, but she assured him that she was simply restless and bid him good watch. She made a complete circuit of the interior of the manor, wondering to herself how many times the others had done the same thing on other sleepless nights. After assuring herself that there was nothing that needed anyone's attention, let alone hers, Lanara let her feet carry her back to her own room. Instead of crawling back into bed or curling up in the chair by the window again, she pulled another chair up to her desk. The familiarity of the items on the desk was reassuring to her - inkwell, pens, her journal, and a variety of parchments including her copy of Kyle and Autumn's wedding invitation. A frown crossed her face as she re-read the invite, and she rolled it back up and placed it in one of the desk drawers. After a moment, she pulled her journal close and started flipping through the pages. She grinned at some of her more sarcastic entries and grew misty-eyed at others. It was a sizable tome, and dated to her graduation from the Tower. It spent a lot of time in her haversack, but when she had the leisure she was faithfully recording the Legacy's adventures from her own perspective. Thanks to her bardic training, both on the road with the hin and in the more formal classrooms of the Tower, she had a very accurate memory, and a trick of shorthand she had developed to save space in the book. She didn't know where she might be when she finally ran out of pages, and she didn't want some of her observations to be deciphered if someone unauthorized ever got hold of it. After wincing through some early versions of some of her now-renowned works, she decided that if nothing else, writing about these damned dreams might help her get some sort of peace tonight, at least. Uncapping her inkwell, she selected a pen and began to write... [CENTER][FONT=Book Antiqua]The Bride Wore Black Regal she stood Bravely facing the altar Willing her body and heart Not to falter. Clutching the rose That she held in her hand A thorn pricked her skin Blood stained the gold band. She swallowed her tears When the trumpeters blew The fanfare announcing The man she loved true. All heads turned As he entered the hall A friend to those gathered And hero to all. She watched him approaching Her eyes glowing bright While relections from torches Cast flickering light. Priests began chanting As the groom was brought near The lady was trembling With ill-controlled fear. The prayers were said And final vows made Tears wiped away and fond farewells bade. His body was laid On the funeral pyre With the rose as we cried For the love lost to fire.[/FONT] [/CENTER] So many things could still go wrong! She had hoped that after Kyle's family had been made safe and Vargas began to come fully under Autumn's control that these dreams would subside. Obviously not. Something still lurked beyond the edges of what the Legacy could influence, waited to disrupt their plans yet again. Lanara capped the inkwell and placed the pen back in the holder. She left the journal open so the ink could dry, and with a final glance at the now-setting moon, climbed back into bed and fell into an exhausted sleep. [/QUOTE]
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