Difference between revisions of "Zimla and Fenris - RPLOG"
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| − | <div></div> | + | <div></div><br> <br>Fenris carefully makes his way into the depths of the quarry to that. . . intriguing mushroom patch. He is wearing his normal work and adventuring outfit, a sleeveless, long, dark coat of some sort of leather. Mostly for the pockets, of course. The big tiger plucks a pair of yellow mushrooms and finds a wide rock to perch himself on, out of the reach of the quarry's common predators. He takes a seat, assuming a pose of meditation before popping the two mushrooms and chewing them slowly. "Hello, Zimla," he says, "Let's chat."<br> <br>It takes a while it seems, Fenris being left to himself as the mushrooms begin to take affect. Slowly the Tiger is pulled into the realm of dreams, no creature approaching him as Zimla takes him into her domain. The world around him becomes matted and dull hues of grey, as a small little breeze of colors flutter around him. The Spirit's voice ringing from both everywhere, and nowhere as she speaks. "Oh? A chat is what you seek? So direct from one blessed by him... Perhaps you wear his colors as a wolf would wear the skin of a sheep?"<br> <br>:smiles at the voice of Zimla, since there is no form to look at yet. "Is the wolf cold?" he asks, "Sometimes, necessity drives us to wear different clothes, Lady of Dreams. But you can be sure that my dedication to my patron is unfeigned." He holds up his hand and watches the streams of colors dance around him. "I am trying to solve a puzzle now, in fact," he says, "And I am neither so smart, nor so proud that I won't seek out help."<br> <br>The voice falls silent for a moment as the world around Fenris begins to mix with streaks of red piercing the greys. "Then why turn to your dreams, for a puzzle? Perhaps the riddles he gives, are too hard for this one?" The Spirit remaining hidden and elusive for the moment as the greys from the dream are slowly filtered away by hues of red. "Have you seen, and yet not seen? Have you slept dreamlessly?"<br> <br>"My dreams are troubled, Lady," Fenris says diffidently, "And my Patron says that the clue I need is not his to give." The tiger hesitates, "At least, I think that is what he says. He actually said. Not my world, not my tale. I can't help you win, nor fail." Fenris puts his hands in his lap and gazes ahead into the swirl of colors. "I shared a dream from you once," he says, "About a black future. I think you have shared it with others. Will you help me?"<br> <br>Before Fenris, the image of the large Tapir begins to take shape as Zimla looks down to him with bright rainbow eyes. Her form only staying half present in this dream as she speaks to him slowly. "It is not his world. It is not his trial. But you have seen the dream? Tell me, what did you see within that dream? What do you recall of this world so dark?"<br> <br>Fenris nods and does his best to recall the dream. "It was a world dominated by the Craige," he says, "There was nothing left but the desolation they left in their wake. Beings were kept only as cattle for them. I-" he hesitates, "Well, someone who might have been me fought against the Craige with the help of others and. . . I may have defeated a king or emperor or whatever it was that the Craige had with. . . I confess, Lady, there was much that I did not understand." He looks at the Spirit solemnly. "You know me well enough to know that I am. . . mutable," he says, "I will become what I need to be for whatever world I find myself in. But I would rather avoid that world."<br> <br>"You were there when their seal broke. You reached out to the warrior. Tell me, look at you memories, and your dream... Do you truly believe that you alone hold sway in the outcome of this?" The hues of red begin to mix with black, as it begins to shape before Fenris a large Dragon like creature, with flames erupting from between blackened scales. No matter which way he looks, it appears to follow his gaze, while standing leagues above him. "Does one drop of rain, stand against a mountain?"<br> <br>Fenris laughs happily. "No, Lady," he says, "I am not so arrogant as that! I have friends to stand with me." The tiger watches the gargantuan black shape. "It is also true that I was there to let these things into the world," he admits, "In a place marked with the seals of Life Court and Corrupt Court. I am not a drop of rain, Lady. I am a pebble on the mountainside. I can change the mountain forever." The tiger is probably enjoying these word games more than he should, especially with that looming darkness.<br> <br>"Sight, without sight. More stand, more rise..." Slowly small beacons of light begin to rise out amongst the dream, flicking small bits of light at the creature before him as she speaks once more. "How time repeats itself. The threat rises, the heroes answer the call..." The beacons begin to twist into slightly humanoid shapes, features beyond definition, but they seem to carry actual weapons, and are trying to battle the creature... Before one massive claw brings the darkness to the dream once more, snuffing the lights away. "How quickly they fall before the mountain. Absorbed into it, merely becoming it's fuel. How old is the stone? Does it grow weak and brittle from the heat? Or does it forge itself stronger than before. More than the life, and the corrupt stood in that room. A<br> <br>"Sight, without sight. More stand, more rise..." Slowly small beacons of light begin to rise out amongst the dream, flicking small bits of light at the creature before him as she speaks once more. "How time repeats itself. The threat rises, the heroes answer the call..." The beacons begin to twist into slightly humanoid shapes, features beyond definition, but they seem to carry actual weapons, and are trying to battle the creature... Before one massive claw brings the darkness to the dream once more, snuffing the lights away. "How quickly they fall before the mountain. Absorbed into it, merely becoming it's fuel. How old is the stone? Does it grow weak and brittle from the heat? Or does it forge itself stronger than before. More than the life, and the corrupt stood in that room. All but those whom watched from outside."<br> <br>Fenris watches the dream unfolding and frowns as the shadow dragon snuffs out the opposing lights. "I don't understand," he admits, "You fought them before. How? If our weapons are not enough, then help us! Forge me into the weapon you need. Teach me what to do!" The tiger is well aware that this conversation has gotten beyond him and he is really at the mercy of the Dream Spirit now.<br> <br>The image before him remains vast in size, slowly walking forward at the tiger with deep thudding steps. "We fought them. Yes, yes we did. But only whe asked from those that came before. Together, all became one in the fight. Together, with heavy sacrafices, we locked the threat away." Suddenly, as the beast reaches Fenris' spot, a plethora of light surges forth to smack into it's chest, driving it back slowly and away from him as Zimla's voice rings out once more. "We all fought."<br> <br>Fenris stands firm against the dream. "Will you fight again?" he asks, rather than asking the question he truly wants answered: What ARE you? "Will you come to our aid? Can we push them back again?" he asks, still seated in a pose of meditation, despite all of the chaos around him, he watches the shadow play intently. |
Revision as of 17:29, 10 April 2015
Participants
Date
10/4/478
Log
Fenris carefully makes his way into the depths of the quarry to that. . . intriguing mushroom patch. He is wearing his normal work and adventuring outfit, a sleeveless, long, dark coat of some sort of leather. Mostly for the pockets, of course. The big tiger plucks a pair of yellow mushrooms and finds a wide rock to perch himself on, out of the reach of the quarry's common predators. He takes a seat, assuming a pose of meditation before popping the two mushrooms and chewing them slowly. "Hello, Zimla," he says, "Let's chat."
It takes a while it seems, Fenris being left to himself as the mushrooms begin to take affect. Slowly the Tiger is pulled into the realm of dreams, no creature approaching him as Zimla takes him into her domain. The world around him becomes matted and dull hues of grey, as a small little breeze of colors flutter around him. The Spirit's voice ringing from both everywhere, and nowhere as she speaks. "Oh? A chat is what you seek? So direct from one blessed by him... Perhaps you wear his colors as a wolf would wear the skin of a sheep?"
:smiles at the voice of Zimla, since there is no form to look at yet. "Is the wolf cold?" he asks, "Sometimes, necessity drives us to wear different clothes, Lady of Dreams. But you can be sure that my dedication to my patron is unfeigned." He holds up his hand and watches the streams of colors dance around him. "I am trying to solve a puzzle now, in fact," he says, "And I am neither so smart, nor so proud that I won't seek out help."
The voice falls silent for a moment as the world around Fenris begins to mix with streaks of red piercing the greys. "Then why turn to your dreams, for a puzzle? Perhaps the riddles he gives, are too hard for this one?" The Spirit remaining hidden and elusive for the moment as the greys from the dream are slowly filtered away by hues of red. "Have you seen, and yet not seen? Have you slept dreamlessly?"
"My dreams are troubled, Lady," Fenris says diffidently, "And my Patron says that the clue I need is not his to give." The tiger hesitates, "At least, I think that is what he says. He actually said. Not my world, not my tale. I can't help you win, nor fail." Fenris puts his hands in his lap and gazes ahead into the swirl of colors. "I shared a dream from you once," he says, "About a black future. I think you have shared it with others. Will you help me?"
Before Fenris, the image of the large Tapir begins to take shape as Zimla looks down to him with bright rainbow eyes. Her form only staying half present in this dream as she speaks to him slowly. "It is not his world. It is not his trial. But you have seen the dream? Tell me, what did you see within that dream? What do you recall of this world so dark?"
Fenris nods and does his best to recall the dream. "It was a world dominated by the Craige," he says, "There was nothing left but the desolation they left in their wake. Beings were kept only as cattle for them. I-" he hesitates, "Well, someone who might have been me fought against the Craige with the help of others and. . . I may have defeated a king or emperor or whatever it was that the Craige had with. . . I confess, Lady, there was much that I did not understand." He looks at the Spirit solemnly. "You know me well enough to know that I am. . . mutable," he says, "I will become what I need to be for whatever world I find myself in. But I would rather avoid that world."
"You were there when their seal broke. You reached out to the warrior. Tell me, look at you memories, and your dream... Do you truly believe that you alone hold sway in the outcome of this?" The hues of red begin to mix with black, as it begins to shape before Fenris a large Dragon like creature, with flames erupting from between blackened scales. No matter which way he looks, it appears to follow his gaze, while standing leagues above him. "Does one drop of rain, stand against a mountain?"
Fenris laughs happily. "No, Lady," he says, "I am not so arrogant as that! I have friends to stand with me." The tiger watches the gargantuan black shape. "It is also true that I was there to let these things into the world," he admits, "In a place marked with the seals of Life Court and Corrupt Court. I am not a drop of rain, Lady. I am a pebble on the mountainside. I can change the mountain forever." The tiger is probably enjoying these word games more than he should, especially with that looming darkness.
"Sight, without sight. More stand, more rise..." Slowly small beacons of light begin to rise out amongst the dream, flicking small bits of light at the creature before him as she speaks once more. "How time repeats itself. The threat rises, the heroes answer the call..." The beacons begin to twist into slightly humanoid shapes, features beyond definition, but they seem to carry actual weapons, and are trying to battle the creature... Before one massive claw brings the darkness to the dream once more, snuffing the lights away. "How quickly they fall before the mountain. Absorbed into it, merely becoming it's fuel. How old is the stone? Does it grow weak and brittle from the heat? Or does it forge itself stronger than before. More than the life, and the corrupt stood in that room. A
"Sight, without sight. More stand, more rise..." Slowly small beacons of light begin to rise out amongst the dream, flicking small bits of light at the creature before him as she speaks once more. "How time repeats itself. The threat rises, the heroes answer the call..." The beacons begin to twist into slightly humanoid shapes, features beyond definition, but they seem to carry actual weapons, and are trying to battle the creature... Before one massive claw brings the darkness to the dream once more, snuffing the lights away. "How quickly they fall before the mountain. Absorbed into it, merely becoming it's fuel. How old is the stone? Does it grow weak and brittle from the heat? Or does it forge itself stronger than before. More than the life, and the corrupt stood in that room. All but those whom watched from outside."
Fenris watches the dream unfolding and frowns as the shadow dragon snuffs out the opposing lights. "I don't understand," he admits, "You fought them before. How? If our weapons are not enough, then help us! Forge me into the weapon you need. Teach me what to do!" The tiger is well aware that this conversation has gotten beyond him and he is really at the mercy of the Dream Spirit now.
The image before him remains vast in size, slowly walking forward at the tiger with deep thudding steps. "We fought them. Yes, yes we did. But only whe asked from those that came before. Together, all became one in the fight. Together, with heavy sacrafices, we locked the threat away." Suddenly, as the beast reaches Fenris' spot, a plethora of light surges forth to smack into it's chest, driving it back slowly and away from him as Zimla's voice rings out once more. "We all fought."
Fenris stands firm against the dream. "Will you fight again?" he asks, rather than asking the question he truly wants answered: What ARE you? "Will you come to our aid? Can we push them back again?" he asks, still seated in a pose of meditation, despite all of the chaos around him, he watches the shadow play intently.
