A Festering Kiss

The dream comes sweetly on this night, a gust of wind on new wings, in a land sheltered from the Dreamer's eye for far too long. We fly north, over the Inner Sea, to an isle nestled in the open arms of Avistan. Over the city of Absalom, flying low, until we reach the northern wall, just outside the Azlanti Keep. Goblins beat at the gates, fighting mechanical automatons standing shoulder to shoulder with members of the First Guard, accompanied by glowing Knights of Mystic Fire.

Then further, where artillery shells smash the enemy's rear line, and any siege weapons they bring to bear. Old bodies are stamped into the earth by a horde of feet, while the next layer of bodies marches forward, believing they will soon see inside the mighty Wall.

Then further, at the edge of the forest, where a grand array of tents rest between the trees, staring south to Absalom. Inside the largest enclosure, we arrive at a meeting of two powers. A cloaked man in full plate, with a twelve-foot claymore strapped to his back. A demon shrouded in shadow, resting upon a throne.

Hooded Man: "You are straggling. The city is nearly complacent."
Demon: "We can breed them only so fast. And your engineers are becoming... Skilled."
Hooded Man: "Then train what you have better. Kesil doesn't even ask about the war anymore. He's focused on these puppeteers. I need the people to see him for what he really is."

The demon cooes, and crosses a feminine, shadowed leg.

Demon: "Well, Lord Commander. I suppose you and I will have to find ways to work more... Closely."
Hooded Man: "I already told you no."
Demon: "That was then… This is now."

The man growls, mulling over the offer in silence, and then nods.

Hooded Man: "Very well."

The demon erupts with a seductive laughter, rises from her throne, and embrace the man for a kiss -- as a storm of hooves press against her back, and a equine screech joins the laughter, and the dream fades.