@Continuum@timelord1101Zyrid dreamed a vivid dream.
Long droves of white capped mountains with thick leafy forests around their fat necks, expansive lakes of blue and white, occasionally the waters appeared patched almost, with blocks of different colors. Zyrid could have swore he saw some kind of beast, an elongated and slippy torso accompanied by small beady eyes, push its head up out of the water and smile at him. The birds sang melodies from the branches up high, and Zyrid experienced this all out of body, as if aware of it all at the same time. It was picturesque, snow falling in the distance and the slow tempo the wind made as it forced the water aside, a pleasant cacophony of unlikely instruments.
Abruptly the winds changed and the snow melted away into the white clouds above. Strange insect like noises buzzed in Zyrid's ear, deep and guttural, sometimes shuddering or creaking at intervals. Zyrid found himself sat on a bench by a strange beach, it's sand finer than air itself, his apparent omnipresent-ness stolen away from him just as the serene landscape was. On this beach were a group of men, dressed in a very peculiar manner.
They were all beefy and muscular and their great calf muscles were bare. In fact, it appeared their entire bottom half was completely uncovered, as the wind violently blew around this strange checkered skirt they all had on. Some of them were drinking, others were talking among themselves, laughing and exchanging thoughts.
Then the insect buzzing ceased and a horrible raucous erupted from the beach, from where the men were crowded. They all began to clap and cheer jovially, the opposite of Zyrid's initial reaction in honesty, as he felt himself curl up and scrunch his face in disgust. The noise was dreadful, somewhere between a dying cat and a long, ugly release of excess gas. At the center of the men, now visible as they parted to let him through, stood a man with some kind of outer body breathing device, his cheeks purples and lips pursed to a hollow stick.
The dream had become too weird for Zyrid, so his unconscious rolled him back towards the outside world.
Slowly and as if for the first time, Zyrid opened his delicate eyes, finding himself in a smaller room than before. Above him, sat on a chair he saw soft white hair, breasts and fine clothing - the faint contour of a nose and eyes too perhaps. It was the female from before, with the interesting thick accent. Though unaware of the purpose, Zyrid would not deny a comfortable bed as he needed a rest after his journey through the eternal dark.
Quickly, Zyrid realized that he was stood before the white haired female not long ago, shock to the new body most likely. It had been a while since he had been in this plane, he was rather out of touch with various cultures and their tendencies - be it mating, communication or sacrifice.
Wait! By the all the Gods, was this some kind of sacrifice ceremony, some humiliating way to take Zyrids trust? He thought this was a Tavern, an honest and humble establishment. Is sacrifice allowed in Taverns here? Is this a special room, where the sacrifice must take place? Is that why she looked at him so closely?
But, surely not!
This could not be a mating ritual, oh by all that is and should be, let it not be a damned mating ritual. It was hard enough trying to explain himself to Eros after the incident in that port city, he couldn't bare to stand in front of her again. She was dangerously charming and softly seductive, it pained him even to be in her presence, her curves and various subtleties. Oh, he could not go through that again, for they went at it for far too long, and though it was divinely glorious, he was back logged on reading for a year!With all these thoughts and more passing through his material brain at the rate at which he would normally think in the expanse, Zyrid felt obscenely fuzzy and warm. In that first 0.3 seconds of opening his eyes from the position on the bed his mind had went through these paces. Zyrid felt his eyes rolling back once again, so in a final attempt to kick his material body into commission he pushed an ounce of air out from the lungs, past his voice box and over his tongue.
From an on lookers point of view, Zyrid's eyes fluttered and his body shifted by the smallest of margins. A spark of deep purple magical energy licked across his finger tips like candle fire and he coughed very quietly in his slumber, a minuscule whisper of smoke rising from his lips.
Zyrid had awoken for 0.32 of a second, then passed out once more.
