The Night of Dreams and Terrors
Evelyn's Dream...
The sound of gentle waves washing up onto the shore awoke Evelyn from her sleep. The sun was shining into her room, giving it a pleasant glow throughout. Getting out of bed she felt a strange feeling as if she was out of place but the thought was quickly pushed away as she looked in the mirror. The Evelyn who survived Starguard was not the same one whose reflection was seen in the mirror. Instead, a younger Evelyn, her mid-teens, stared into the looking glass with a smile just as bright as the morning sun. Evelyn was midway through changing when a young lady entered her room.
"I see you're awake early this mornin-Oh, my lady, were you not to have training lessons with Master Oeric today?", the handmaiden closed the door behind her so that the two would have their privacy. Evelyn looked confused for a moment but the thought of her swordplay lessons quickly removed any doubt.
"I suppose I do..", she replied with some uncertainty in her voice.Â
Ruinil's Nightmare...
Ruinil sat in her home as she wept bitterly over the loss of her lover, Bartuc. They'd both been soldiers of The Order but now that their war with Sar'than was concluded the two lived together in the coastal city of Harinth. For years the couple enjoyed each other's company for some time until some members of the newly reformed Order of Dawn caught wind of their past. Bartuc was captured, imprisoned, and put on trial for practicing necromancy. Found guilty, he was given only two choices as to how he'd die. Faced with either death by hanging or by exile, Bartuc chose the latter and so at dawn he was placed aboard the cheapest ship and cast off into the sea. As she and Bartuc were of one soul, Ruinil would feel everything which her love felt. The terrible swaying of the ship as it braved harsh waves, the cold of the sea storms, the pain of hunger until there was nothing felt anymore. It was then she knew her love was gone forever and twas why she wept so bitterly.
Bartuc's Nightmare...
The night was dark in the village of Sharwood. This small village in the north had become home to Ruinil and Bartuc after the war for it was where they first met. For years they knew peace, happiness, and security. Twas not until this terrible night that their pasts had caught up to them. Bartuc had left earlier that day to go hunting. By the days end he was happy to return home to a warm meal and soft bed. Arriving at the outskirts of Sharwood he was struck with terror and agony as he watched his wife burn at the stake. Ruinil screamed in agony, calling out for Bartuc As the villagers called her a witch, a demon, and all manner of unpleasantries. Bartuc shoved past he mob but it was too late as Ruinil was already dead and all he was left with was to watch the remains of her body burn. To his horror, Ruinil was not dead, not entirely, her charred body spoke yet her lips did not move. Bartuc listened carefully to what his beloved was trying so hard to tell him but all he heard was,
"This is your doing".
Cythlla's Dream...
Cythlla found herself in a city square, standing atop a stage which was surrounded by all the citizens of the city. Beside her stood Henry and all her friends as they were cheered by the adorong crowd. They had defeated Sar'than and his unholy army at the battle of Firsthold, the capital of Farendar. Now the king himself was present to name them all lords and grant them lands in his kingdom. Placing medals around each of their necks, he then turned to the crowd and spoke,
"Know this day, we celebrate these brave souls for their defence of all we hold dear to us! Despite their race, religion, and origin they gathered under one banner in service to you folk. For such honor, courage, and selflessness I now name thee Lords and Ladies of Farendar!". The crowd went into an uproar as scores of people praised and thanked them, a good number of voices shouted praises to Cythlla and at one point roses were thrown at her feet. The world saw past her necromantic practices and to who she really was. She was a champion of the people.
Henry's Nightmare...
It was unexplainable, Henry, despite being a massive bear, was completely separate from this world. He walked through the city of Lamren, bumping into a number of passersby but receiveing no recognition for such actions. Normally people would be more than startled by such a large creature strolling through their streets but it was as if the bear did not exist at all. The world seemed strange on top of being oblivious to his presence. There was no color: everything was black, white, and shades of grey. People's faces were blurred and water had no reflection, only interminable blackness. All of Miras seemed dead and void of real life, and now Henry was a part of it as well as seperate from it.
Landeel's Nightmare...
Retribution, it had finally caught up to the Knight-Lieutenant. So many years of service but now when he had reached his apex life would collect a debt long overdue. It was he and his sister, Khana, they'd been made Knight-Commanders after the war's end with Sar'than being permanently destroyed. Now the siblings commanded a rather large portion of The Order. It was a peaceful day when the order was given to destroy a cultist base in the southern marshlands of Talmaria. Normally this would be left to lower ranking members of The Order but as Landeel and Khana were most experienced in fighting this type of threat they were to deal with these heretics personally. Taking with them only a handful of Templars with them, they set off to southern Talmaria. It was halfway into the journey, when they had stopped to make camp, that revenge would visit them. Landeel had left the encampment to scout the nearby area. Upon returning, he found the camp had been ransacked and the body of his sister laying dead in the dirt. Before anything else could be done, a black specter had appeared before the Knight-Commander. It was the spirit of Cyrena, Sar'than's most loyal general. She'd defied death so that she may one day take revenge on the blasphemous Templars. She laughed menacingly as she cursed at Landeel, calling him weak for not being able to save his sister. Rather than leave him to his agony, Cyrena remained, continuously throwing insults his way to further break his spirit.Â
Kaathe's Dream...
Kaathe would find himself no longer in Thanermere, but instead walking through a field of grain, Amber was its color in the setting sun which froze eternally in the sky. The winds were gentle and quiet, as the birds sang their songs to the Renmer warrior. There was a sudden breeze which signalled to Kaathe that something was behind him. Turning slowly he was greeted by an individual unfamiliar to him,
"I'd tell you who I am but I already know you not to care. Nevertheless, you should know where you are at least. You've died, my child. This is your paradise. I grant you the ability to shape it as you wish or to leave it as is. It is to your whim". Kaathe looked to the sun and strangely it did not hurt his eyes to do so. A thought came to his mind and in an instant the sun appeared high in the sky as if time has gone back to noon that day.
"You've suffered enough, my child, let this place repay you of all you've suffered", the spirit vanished with the wind once more, leaving Kaathe to forge this world of his.
Glodin's Dream...
Glodin stood at the road leading to Starguard. The armies of man and mer were all gathered behind him as he lead the charge to take back the ancient home of The Order. There was no fear in the eyes of the faithful as they all knew Glodin would lead them to victory. During their travels he'd discovered a great number of oddities, one such including ancient rune magics far beyond what modern magical capabilities they had. Glodin used this experience to forge a weapon so mighty the very each shook with each step it took. The armies of Sar'than massed at the walls of Starguard, ready to push back the brave Templars. Suddenly, a loud stomping could be heard coming through the forest. A mighty golem, taller than any tower, with Templar fortifications mounted across its body, revealed it self on the battlefield. Scores of Templar mages, archers, ballista men, trebuchet loaders, and catapult controllers, fired upon the undead army. This was Glodin's creation, a combination of ancient magic and modern day siege weaponry which decimated the enemy numbers within a matter of minutes. Glodin watched as his creation laid waste to Sar'than's army and he received constant praise from his comrades.
Argus's Dream...
Deep in the ruins of the old Uldmer network, Argus ventured far along routes long forgotten by any still living to remember them. It did not take long before he found his prize, a rare First Era Dwarven artifact. What made this artifact so special was that it was The Urn, the legendary urn of Uldnorld which was said to hold the spirits of the first dwarves on Miras. Argus eyed this prize with eyes full of wonder and excitement as he approached it carefully yet overly eager to hold it in his arms. After a rather long period of time was spent eyeing it, Argus placed it carefully in his bag and left for the surface. Back home he owned the most renowned museum for Mirastian History and his work has been made known across the continent. Everyone, from peasant to prince clamored to view his wondrous exhibits or perhaps even get to meet the famous dwarf responsible for discovering such amazing relics.
Karl's Nightmare...
Ruin and death, that was all that remained. The Order was helpless to stop Sar'than's dark campaign. His agents planted themselves in every circle of power, corrupting and destroying the infrastructure of every kingdom on the continent. Any resistance was quickly eliminated and soon all life in the world was extinguished like a small flame in the wind. The only survivor was Karl, either by luck or by skill he survived everything and was all that was left of this world. Unfortunately, he truly was all that was left of this world. All his friends, the msn and women he fought alongside were dead, their bodies just an addition to the piles of corpses created by this war. There was nothing he could have done, from the very beginning he was fated and now he was left with only two choices. To take his life or continue this miserable existence.
