What Dreams May Come/2021-12-19 Awakenings

The official GemStone IV encyclopedia.
< What Dreams May Come
Revision as of 18:10, 6 January 2022 by ARMYJEN (talk | contribs) (Created example of what GM vignette could look like.)
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search
The below article was written by GameMaster Quilic for the What Dreams May Come storyline.

Talinvor

Talinvor's vision swam as he slowly returned to consciousness, and the first sensation that registered was nausea. He tried to focus, but failed miserably, the combination of blurred vision and the accompanying nausea stealing his thoughts as he tried to form them. He turned his head, attempting to get his bearings, but there was hardly any light, and what little he could find was a miasma of roiling confusion, and his stomach lurched painfully as his eyes attempted to make sense of the chaos.

Buried behind the confusion, he slowly began to register the pain. The sensation began to poke its way through the web of nausea, but then began to increase as whatever relief a lack of awareness had provided was stripped away. The pain... the torturous, indescribable pain... could not be pinpointed. It overwhelmed his system completely, and he bit his tongue hard to keep from shrieking in agony at the sensation. Deep within, he felt a cold fury begin to build. Whatever... whoever... was responsible for this, they would not get the satisfaction of seeing him scream.

Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, a combination of pain and anger, and he tasted the coppery tang of his own lacerated tongue in his mouth. The pain shifted suddenly, somehow becoming even more intense, but for the first time, the agony became localized at a point in his temple. A shriek wormed its way up his throat, but Talinvor forced it back down through sheer force of will, feeling his head spin once more and briefly wishing for unconsciousness... and then the pain ceased.

His head spun once more, but this was the euphoria of the absence of that hellish torture. His nerve endings sang a song of relief, and he felt himself slump as his muscles relaxed all at once. His jaw hung open and he rasped as he drug throaty, greedy gulps of air into his lungs.

"It is not much I require," a silky voice murmured from the darkness. Talinvor's head whipped toward the source of the sound, but there was nothing that could be seen. What little light was present in this space did nothing to illuminate whatever was in the darker recess.

"Who are you to require anything of me?" he demanded, his voice strident and clear, betraying none of the tremors he could feel racing through his system.

"One who waits," the voice murmured, an undercurrent of mirth in its tone.

"Waits?" Talinvor echoed, feeling his strength slowly return.

"For now," the voice agreed. "But while I wait... you must serve."

"Serve?! Do you know whom you are addressing?" Talinvor demanded.

"One who has had their tether cut," the voice responded evenly.

Talinvor blinked at that, then raised a hand to his temple, feeling a lance of pain as he encountered the torn flesh... but nothing more.

"How...?" he whispered.

"It is not much I require," the voice intoned, matching exactly the tone and meter of the previous utterance of the phrase.

"What, then?" Talinvor demanded, a sneer crawling across his face.

The light in the room shifted slightly, as a flickering torch somewhere behind Talinvor flared from some unnoticed breeze. With the barest glimpse of the recess, he was able to make out a massive black chair, and in it... a hulking form... but then the light was gone once more.

"You will serve my purposes ably, untethered one. When I call... you will answer."

Talinvor opened his mouth to object, but before he could utter a sound, all went black. He was vaguely aware of the passing of time, but when consciousness finally returned, he sat bolt upright in his own bed, gasping. One hand flew to his temple, where again, he found only a ragged wound. And nothing more.

Ordim

Ordim started from his sleep with a loud, confused grunt. He looked around wildly, but could barely see anything. He was sitting awkwardly in some sort of cave, but there was only the barest whisper of light. He reached for his magic, but... it did not respond. Ordim's brow furrowed with annoyance and he scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off as he rose.

"It is not much I require," a silky voice murmured from the darkest part of the room.

Ordim flinched at the noise, then glared in the rough direction of the voice.

"I don't remember this dream, it must be new!" Ordim's face twisted oddly in a mix of nervousness and curiosity. "Feels pretty real too..."

"You will serve me well," the voice murmured in response.

"Serve?" Ordim asked curiously. "I've never served a cave before! I suppose I could help keep things in or out, depending on what they are. Unless you meant serve you food, in which case that depends on what you want. I heard Ordims taste terrible, but I have some muffins and uh, maybe an old pie or two... some cookies, a cupcake for some reason and various crumbs and frosting. You aren't allergic to anything by chance are you?"

There was a pregnant pause before the voice responded, and the plinking sound of a drop of water falling into a puddle in the cavern floor echoed into the silence.

"You have been tethered, chaotic one," the voice murmured.

Ordim's brow furrowed once more.

"Feathered? Again?" Ordim groaned. "At least this time there wasn't any tar, but if you don't use any tar the feathers just kinda fall off. Which is what looks like what happened, I don't see a single feather anywhere! I guess caves aren't very good at this kinda thing since they don't have hands." Ordim peered uselessy into the darkness, slowly scanning for the source of the voice. "I suppose you could use ghost feathers and I'd never know, but I'm not sure how they actually stick to anything. Or who would even know you did it except for yourself and maybe me, if I believed it!" Ordim giggled nervously. "Besides, where would you even find a ghost bird..." Ordim trailed off, unnerved by the lack of any response.

This time the pause was a little bit longer, and another plinking drop sent its echoes reverberating through the space.

"Perfect," the voice purred softly.

Ordim shrieked in pain, falling to his knees and grasping his head in agony. His vision blurred from the sensation, and he screamed until his lungs failed, then dragged in another ragged breath and resumed his scream, feeling as if his head were splitting. He clawed at his temple, the source of the agony, and felt something shifting. Just as the pain began to climb to unbearable levels, everything went dark, and the halfling toppled over to the ground in an unconscious heap.

When Ordim awoke, he was in his bed, and his head hurt abysmally. He blinked in confusion a few times before sitting up, but his pillow stuck to his head. He looked curiously at it from the corner of his eye and noted that it was caked in dried blood. He pulled it away with irritation and felt frantically at his temple. The wound hurt, there was no doubt about that, but... the wound was all there was.

Akenna

Akenna blinked awake at the loud, insisted banging on her door. She scrambled out of bed, her mind racing. Was this another attack? What had happened? Was it the krolvin? She hurried to the oak door and pulled it open, revealing a pair of men wearing militia badges.

"Yes, what's wrong?" Akenna asked hurriedly. "Is there an invasion? Which direction are they coming from?"

The men blinked at each other in confusion, then the smaller one piped up, "We're here about your door!"

Akenna stopped mid-sentence, her brow furrowing. She turned to look at the open door, the yellow X still splattered across it.

"My... door?" she muttered.

"Yes, Lady. We're here to replace it!" the smaller of the two men answered. "Jorgarn commissioned a new one for you, and he told us to get rid of this one and put in the new one for you!"

"Oh! Um... very well, then. It will be nice to be rid of this... reminder..." she trailed off.

"Definitely! Jorgarn told us all about how this paint here is supposed to be explosive somehow, and how basically at any time your door could just go BOOM and blow your whole house up. That's just crazy, right?"

"Well... I mean... it has been a little unsettling, but I think it's best not to dwell on-"

"It could blow up right now, while we're all standing here! How wild would that be? Just BOOM, right here in front of us!"

"I... yes. I suppose that would be... wild... did you say you were here to replace it?" Akenna stammered, feeling thoroughly confused.

"We're going to dispose of this one and put the new one in for you, Lady. We'll need access to the house for about fifteen minutes, and it might be best if you weren't here while we worked," the larger of the two men stated, in a much calmer state of mind than his partner.

"Very well," Akenna agreed. "Give me a moment to gather a few things and I will get out of your way."

She grabbed an overcoat and threw it on, then slipped into some comfortable shoes and returned to the door, slipping past the two workers.

"Thank you two for doing this. It really will be such a relief," she said.

"Our pleasure, Lady!" the smaller one chirped. "Don't worry about a thing, we'll get this taken care of in no time!"

Akenna hesitated for just a moment, then turned her back and headed for town. Just as she rounded the bend, she heard a loud BOOM noise, and she whirled around, heart racing. In the distance, she heard a voice call, "We're fine! Totally fine!"

Shaking her head, Akenna turned back around and continued towards town, resolutely not thinking about her door.

Notes

Many thanks to the players of Akenna, Ordim, and Talinvor for their permission to use them in these vignettes.