The Dreamrealm quivers and shakes as you find yourself entering what should be a familiar rest. However you do not feel the comfortable, warming, and clear presence of mind that you are used to when you enter the Dreamrealm. Instead your thoughts are cloudy and difficult to formulate; it is not too great a hindrance, however there are times you find your mind wandering. In the distance you hear a rustling, a rasping, a stirring of wind. This is not a wind that you find gliding over a luscious meadow, or a wind you find whistling through the trees on those many long nights chasing away monsters that go bump in the night. This Wind is something else, something deeper. This wind carries on it a power that is almost palpable.
Is the wind the cause of your fitful sleep and strained dreaming? Or perhaps something else? You strain your hearing and extend your senses in ways that only the Dreamrealm would allow. There is no conceivable pattern to the cacophony of wind. You are drowning beneath it. You find your senses engrossed, all you can feel is a savage torrent of power that beckons you ever closer.
Many would consider this foolishness; who would listen to a wind that appears in your dream as though it held a hidden truth that only you can reveal? You know better. You know more. You know that power stirs in many forms. You have learned that to ignore something of power may lead to devastating destruction and sorrow.
Knowing this you are filled with a small sense of nagging dread, but you know what you must do. You steel your resolve and lunge towards the torrent of power. Your heart is raging within your chest, and an icy chill begins to crawl up your spine. As you near what must be the source of this windswept power you lose control of everything you define as your body. You are swept upwards to the sky, your senses drag along the torrent of power, gliding on the wind.
The land swoops underneath you. Great forests turn to long fields of grass and finally to endless reaches of sand and dust. The sun bears down even on your dream self. Small pockets of life are few and far between. The land below you is harsh and unforgiving. The torrent of power grows ever stronger and you feel yourself drawn down to stand upon blistering sands. As your feet feel the firmament once again, the savage power permeates every fiber of your being. You stagger under this sensation, while the land beneath you shifts and rolls. The sands tremble, then settle. In that moment, the power weakens, yet its urgency grows desperation permeates it. Stillness surrounds you. For a time, you can feel nothing but sun and sand. Then from everywhere, and nowhere, a voice booms.
“Sand and dust surround me. The sun burns through to my bones. I have failed. That which travels through history is no longer safe. Another must take up this burden. You who have touched history, who have traveled down its winding pathways. You who have held the memories or our people, their struggles, their powers in your hands. I call you now. Come relieve me of my task and the way shall be clear to you.”
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This is a Southern Minnesota Plot post, please do not reply to this thread. Thread will be locked shortly, all replies will be requested removed. This is an event within the Dreamrealm, feel free to RP accordingly.
Is the wind the cause of your fitful sleep and strained dreaming? Or perhaps something else? You strain your hearing and extend your senses in ways that only the Dreamrealm would allow. There is no conceivable pattern to the cacophony of wind. You are drowning beneath it. You find your senses engrossed, all you can feel is a savage torrent of power that beckons you ever closer.
Many would consider this foolishness; who would listen to a wind that appears in your dream as though it held a hidden truth that only you can reveal? You know better. You know more. You know that power stirs in many forms. You have learned that to ignore something of power may lead to devastating destruction and sorrow.
Knowing this you are filled with a small sense of nagging dread, but you know what you must do. You steel your resolve and lunge towards the torrent of power. Your heart is raging within your chest, and an icy chill begins to crawl up your spine. As you near what must be the source of this windswept power you lose control of everything you define as your body. You are swept upwards to the sky, your senses drag along the torrent of power, gliding on the wind.
The land swoops underneath you. Great forests turn to long fields of grass and finally to endless reaches of sand and dust. The sun bears down even on your dream self. Small pockets of life are few and far between. The land below you is harsh and unforgiving. The torrent of power grows ever stronger and you feel yourself drawn down to stand upon blistering sands. As your feet feel the firmament once again, the savage power permeates every fiber of your being. You stagger under this sensation, while the land beneath you shifts and rolls. The sands tremble, then settle. In that moment, the power weakens, yet its urgency grows desperation permeates it. Stillness surrounds you. For a time, you can feel nothing but sun and sand. Then from everywhere, and nowhere, a voice booms.
“Sand and dust surround me. The sun burns through to my bones. I have failed. That which travels through history is no longer safe. Another must take up this burden. You who have touched history, who have traveled down its winding pathways. You who have held the memories or our people, their struggles, their powers in your hands. I call you now. Come relieve me of my task and the way shall be clear to you.”
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This is a Southern Minnesota Plot post, please do not reply to this thread. Thread will be locked shortly, all replies will be requested removed. This is an event within the Dreamrealm, feel free to RP accordingly.