Eirene's Nightmare
Sleep takes you. You feel restless, struggling to actually find a comfortable place in your.. bed.. cot? Wait, where are you?
You open your eyes, finding yourself in a completely different room than the Hearth. Though.. it's familiar. It rocks back and forth, and you're starting to feel a bit nauseous.. but this is your home. Where you were once bitten by that cursed Werewolf.
You climb out of the bed, trying to steady yourself on the wall, exiting the room. There's no one around as you call out for your family, your friends.
The house is empty of people. There are warm meals still left on the table. Why? It's the middle of the night.
You step outside, and it's pitch black out. The only sight is the moon, purple haze, Shothotugg. It's a warm sight, you feel happy to see her. The moon you've worshipped all your life. You let out a silent prayer for her guidance as you pledge yourself to slaying the werewolves that rise up in the glint of her ever present eye.
There's a howl in the night air. "Better get armored up", you think, and you head back inside to equip your armor. You grab your mithral armor, heavily and intricately carved with markings of Shothotugg, deep purple, the blood still wet. You smile. You made this armor yourself, and it fills you with a warm fuzzy feeling when you strap it to your skin. It's a little tight, and you feel the barbed strapping cut into your skin. "That's how you know it's on properly", you think to yourself.
The forest. You're alone. Your sword shimmers with the light of the moon. You see movement. You dull your blade. And wait. ... .. . And wait. ... .. . There! You recognise the glint of the dozens of eyes along its necks and hide. You bolt forward, letting your magic propel you and your sword. You thrust into its hide, with fury and grace. This one must have nearly a hundred eyes, it's hard to tell which ones are even in the right place. They each grow dull in turn. But there's a prick in your skin. You look down, and see a small slit on your left arm. A small, weak eye slowly curls open and looks back at you. It's bloodshot red, thick with pus. Disgusting. You try to rub at it, dig at it.. you pull out a dagger and stab it out. You won't become one of them...you can't...
You're back in your room. You're covered in blood. You have a dagger in one hand, throwing it to another. You see another eye on the back of your hand. You stab at it, furiously. This wasn't meant to happen to you. You sit there, consumed with panic and anxiety. Your god must know the solution. You rip open the window and scream out into the night. "What must I do?!" And you know. You look down at the dagger in your hand. You plunge it into your left eye. It hurts. But you feel better. Your skin looks clearer, there's no blood. You smile. It doesn't hurt anymore. You whisper a thank you to the moon with the dagger in hand. You dig out your other eye, and feel her salvation wash upon you.
You wake up, and you're back in Vareholm, and you couldn't be happier. Shothotugg has saved you from your eyes, and you feel an overwhelming desire to spread that salvation to all of your friends. You stand, pulling a dagger out, before you feel a strong arm grab your left bicep. You look up, seeing a very bored looking elven man. He's wearing full plate, in a mysterious blend of black and white ornamentation. He doesn't even take note of you, despite grabbing onto so firmly. You try to wriggle free, but feel another strong hand grab onto your left arm. You look at the resplendant, shimmering dragonborn. Just wearing a simple brown robe. But his scales shine and glimmer with an ever-changing hue of colours. Your eyes are definitely cut out, but even then, you can still identify the colours on these two figures. You struggle to get free, you want to share with them the beauty of what Shothotugg has shown you, but they just hold you down. The dragonborn looks to the elf, speaking in Celestial. DRAGONBORN: This is really more trouble than it's worth. The elf doesn't respond. They just look out to the open sky, and to Shothotugg, and they wave a hand. You see the slow shimmer of the barrier around Vareholm slowly piece itself back together. And then pass out.
You wake up in a cold sweat. Your sheets are soaked with a thick, dark liquid. You panic, but your eyes are still in their sockets, unharmed. You have the sudden realisation of the gravity of your dream, and the sick thoughts that were implanted in your mind.
The forest. You're alone. Your sword shimmers with the light of the moon. You see movement. You dull your blade. And wait. ... .. . And wait. ... .. . There! You recognise the glint of the dozens of eyes along its necks and hide. You bolt forward, letting your magic propel you and your sword. You thrust into its hide, with fury and grace. This one must have nearly a hundred eyes, it's hard to tell which ones are even in the right place. They each grow dull in turn. But there's a prick in your skin. You look down, and see a small slit on your left arm. A small, weak eye slowly curls open and looks back at you. It's bloodshot red, thick with pus. Disgusting. You try to rub at it, dig at it.. you pull out a dagger and stab it out. You won't become one of them...you can't...
You're back in your room. You're covered in blood. You have a dagger in one hand, throwing it to another. You see another eye on the back of your hand. You stab at it, furiously. This wasn't meant to happen to you. You sit there, consumed with panic and anxiety. Your god must know the solution. You rip open the window and scream out into the night. "What must I do?!" And you know. You look down at the dagger in your hand. You plunge it into your left eye. It hurts. But you feel better. Your skin looks clearer, there's no blood. You smile. It doesn't hurt anymore. You whisper a thank you to the moon with the dagger in hand. You dig out your other eye, and feel her salvation wash upon you.
You wake up, and you're back in Vareholm, and you couldn't be happier. Shothotugg has saved you from your eyes, and you feel an overwhelming desire to spread that salvation to all of your friends. You stand, pulling a dagger out, before you feel a strong arm grab your left bicep. You look up, seeing a very bored looking elven man. He's wearing full plate, in a mysterious blend of black and white ornamentation. He doesn't even take note of you, despite grabbing onto so firmly. You try to wriggle free, but feel another strong hand grab onto your left arm. You look at the resplendant, shimmering dragonborn. Just wearing a simple brown robe. But his scales shine and glimmer with an ever-changing hue of colours. Your eyes are definitely cut out, but even then, you can still identify the colours on these two figures. You struggle to get free, you want to share with them the beauty of what Shothotugg has shown you, but they just hold you down. The dragonborn looks to the elf, speaking in Celestial. DRAGONBORN: This is really more trouble than it's worth. The elf doesn't respond. They just look out to the open sky, and to Shothotugg, and they wave a hand. You see the slow shimmer of the barrier around Vareholm slowly piece itself back together. And then pass out.
You wake up in a cold sweat. Your sheets are soaked with a thick, dark liquid. You panic, but your eyes are still in their sockets, unharmed. You have the sudden realisation of the gravity of your dream, and the sick thoughts that were implanted in your mind.
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