Session 23
With our heroes still in their shared dream, reliving each-others' memories, this chapter begins in Oryim's childhood bedroom. After inspecting the room and learning about Oryim's upbringing, noting that their affinity for knives started young, they decided it was time to move on. As they opened the door, early morning light spilled into the room revealing the kitchen of Liaden O'Legal's orphanage. Liaden's partner, Zilara, was preparing breakfast before asking Liaden if they could set the table. As the party moved through the door, Sam Calaswas distracted and the door shut before he could step through.
Now just the three of them, Oryim and Kalydin watched this memory of Liaden's unfold. It was a more recent one, a memory of the day Liaden left her home to find a solution to the problem that plagued her and some of the other women in Silvaantar. The memory played out almost in slow motion, as Zilara asked Liaden to wake the older orphans for chore duty before breakfast. As she opened the door, she was met with a perplexing sight. Indeed the orphans were there, but not where they ought to be. In rows of cots and beds they lay and slept, though they were surrounded by dark wilderness, with a campfire roaring in the centre. Some walls of the orphanage were here, thoguh they were at strange angles and disjointed. The shadows cast by them and the light from the fire were not shadows at all, but an empty space. A void in the dream as these memories overlapped.
Choosing to play out the memory, Liaden cautiously stepped through the door rousing the oldest orphan from their rest. Keen to return to the safety of their memory, they motioned to close the door behind them. As they did, they saw a faint blue glow, as an elderly woman ran towards them, calling out to her to hold the door. It was a familiar face, that of the woman Melina they had met in the cave to Fatoris. Feeling uneasy, and that the voided space may swallow them all, she closed the door on the spectre.
sitting awkwardly through breakfast, our heroes waited for the memory to completely play out. As the orphans left the dining room, Liaden and Zilara talked at length. The conversation reminding Liaden of how little she contacted home these days. A year and a half ago, when she first left, she sent letters every week. Eventually, these became every fortnight, then every month. Now, with these companions, the letters had ceased. Guilt filled her heart, clashing with her sense of duty. Knowing full well that, if she returned now without an answer, she may never leave again.
Reliving the heart-wrenching conversation drove Liaden to question herself. Ready to move to another memory, regret was all Liaden could feel now. She had to find some way to make this right. As she turned the handle, the other side revealed the bustling market square of Fatoris. The featureless faces of men and women wandered around with jingling purses ripe like fruit and begging to be taken. Just as Oryim was about to indulge in a time honored tradition, the party noticed that time had stopped. Coins halted in mid-air, people ceased moving. Odd, but an opportunity for fun Oryim thought, as he repositioned the people in the square to hug one another.
As Oryim moved the locals, our heroes became aware of another entity moving in the frozen dream. A sleek, gaunt creature with mirror-like black scales, leathery wings and dog like back legs crawled around, digging at the gravel and dirt. Unnerved by the creature, but ever curious, Oryim called out to it, in hopes of establishing a connection. As the creature turned to face the party, they noticed that it had no face at all. No ears, no nose, no eyes, nothing. It stood up straight and walked over to them calmly, creating an odd sound between a gurgle and a crackling.
Oryim stood firm as the creature approached. About 10 feet away, the creature waved and gestured to shake Oryim's hand. Taken aback by the polite mannered creature, Oryim shook its hand. Without a missed beat, the handshake was ended and the creature dug up a handfull of gravel and dirt from around Oryim's feet before depositing it into a bag. It waved farewell as it reached deep into the fabric of the dream, opened a void, stepped through and like a door, closed the void behind it again.
From extensive research into children's adventure books, Oryim was able to identify that the creature was a nightgaunt, a denizen of the extra-planar realm known as the dream lands. As the creature left, time continued, but the dream was in a now altered state. As the bodies of the memory attempted to return to their original positions, they tore holes in the dream creating empty space without overlap. This, in turn, caused the dream to play on loop and become faster and faster. In the space left over, a new memory took its place.
A father, a mother and a sister sat around a manger with a baby concealed inside. Whose faces these were escaped our heroes and whose memory it was was a more difficut question to answer. Kalydin took the site in, as a spark of recognition occured. This was his family. He could not remember the names or the faces fully, but he knew. Strangely though, this was not his memory, as the baby in the manger was Kalydin. This memory was from another a being that seemingly could not be seen by Kalydin's family. A being that Kalydin, as a baby, could see vividly. Kalydin, in that dream like reverie, realised that this memory belonged to seraph; his guardian angel.
As Oryim's dream continued to accelerate, the void rift grew larger. Liaden shook Kalydin to get his attention as they found the nearest door and, instead of stepping blindly, attempted to have Kalydin channel a memory in order to go where they needed. Kalydin thought of the door, locked and chained in hopes that they might be able to pull them off by force. And, while partially successful sending them to another Kalydin memory, it wasn't the one he intended. Instead, it was a memory from beyond the door. Our heroes stood in a meadow of tall grass, fresh breeze blowing through their senses as they saw a young girl running towards them. They pressed their hand to Kalydin's back, pushing him over. He looked up from the ground to see the girl standing over him yelling "Tag! You're it!"
Bewildered, he stood up as his mother came from the back door of a house not far from there. She kneeled down to look at Kalydin, her warm features smiling gently as she wiped his face. "Frieda, no pushing your brother!" She turned to the girl and gave her a disapproving look, to which the girl responded with a sheepish "Sorry mummy, sorry Kalydin." After confirming that Kalydin was well, she returned to their small country cottage and, simultaneously, his sister yelled "Daddies home!" running towars the house to greet their father.
This calm respite would soon be dashed, as over a grassy knoll came a familiar and terrifying visage. The nightmare being that they had narrowly escaped last time had reappeared, this time atop a dark and brooding steed made of smoke and smouldering like embers on a dying fire. With the mounted nightmare fast approaching our heroes made for the nearest door. However, the back door to the house was already open. Searching now, the only door left was the front which Kalydin's father had just opened. There was a vague familiarity about his face, to both Kalydin and Oryim, though they couldn't quite place it.
With the sounds of galloping drawing ever closer, our heroes made for the door, closing it and attempting to make their way to another memory. They stepped through the door and were met by a frigid wind and a quiet township covered by a soft layer of snow. This was unfamiliar to all of them, they wracked their minds of where or when this might be. As they did, they heard a being call out and wave "Good morning, Daelin!" Confused, our heroes continued, with more and more people waving and calling out. It was Liaden who noticed that their gaze was fixed on Seraph, and that Seraph in this memory was changing.
No longer did he appear as an angel carved out of marble, but rather as a mortal man. Lean, dark haired and near middle age. Seraph vaguely remembered himself at this time, this was his old home from when he was mortal. The town of Ishfell, in the country of Hydenbur. He was apparently on his way to collect something from a local smith, by the name of Olga. The two argued over the cost of a strange necklace, Olga claiming it would cost 1000 gold for the materials alone. Daelin, however, had only 20 silver to his name at that point. Reluctantly, Olga reliquished the trinket telling Daelin that he owed her, big time, and that she would definitely make good on that debt.
Feeling it was time to leave, Kalydin also felt that the door behind which some memories were locked was beginning to crack open. The chains around it beginning to slacken. He thought of the door once more and attempted to find his way towards it. As the door opened, they were once again in Kalydin's childhood home, a place he didn't remember in a time long forgotten. They were outside his parents bedroom, he remembered having a nightmare of his house burning and was seeking comfort from his parents. But when he knocked on the door it was his sister, Frieda, who answered. Wondering what was going on, Kalydin's father stepped through the doorway, kneeling down and looking deep into Kalydin's eyes. "You won't understand yet, but I'll teach you everything."
Dread filled Kalydin and he threw open the door to his parents' bedroom. Runes were carved into the walls, runes that were familiar from Sam's dream and from the underground structure they had travelled through on thier way to Fatoris. Frieda bore down on Kalydin's mother with a thick ritual knife, though was held at bay. Frieda was thrown from her mother and fell to her knees. Kalydin's father stood, and in the light Oryim's recognition sparked. This man bore a striking resemblance to his father. This man was Grimwalde Daedark. The man The Mistress of Fatoris had charged with orchestrating the second Dossil war.
Gone was the warmth in his eyes. Gone was the kindness of his voice. In their place were dark, pitiless holes and a harshness like the grinding of stone on stone. "You have failed." he spoke in a deep trembling tone as he struck Frieda across the face. He dragged her to her feet and made to leave. Kalydin, standing there confused was then the target of Grimwalde's ire, as he threw him out of the way. As Kalydin sat up, watching his father and sister leave through the front door, Grimwalde turned and cast a spell. A small dot of light shot from his finger and exploded with flame in the centre of their home. As their home burned, Kalydin's mother crawled towards him, but was crushed by the burning debris. It was then that an angel held him tightly and in a somber and soft voice said "No matter what. I will protect you."
Kalydin's memory ended there. Soon replaced with the memory of waking to see the charred landscape where his home once stood. The long grass he had once run through with his sister were little more than ash and soot in the dirt. Oryim stared at his newly recognised cousin and shared his insight with the group. Sharing a silent stare with one another, it was clear to them both that, one way or another, Grimwalde Daedark had to die.
Now just the three of them, Oryim and Kalydin watched this memory of Liaden's unfold. It was a more recent one, a memory of the day Liaden left her home to find a solution to the problem that plagued her and some of the other women in Silvaantar. The memory played out almost in slow motion, as Zilara asked Liaden to wake the older orphans for chore duty before breakfast. As she opened the door, she was met with a perplexing sight. Indeed the orphans were there, but not where they ought to be. In rows of cots and beds they lay and slept, though they were surrounded by dark wilderness, with a campfire roaring in the centre. Some walls of the orphanage were here, thoguh they were at strange angles and disjointed. The shadows cast by them and the light from the fire were not shadows at all, but an empty space. A void in the dream as these memories overlapped.
Choosing to play out the memory, Liaden cautiously stepped through the door rousing the oldest orphan from their rest. Keen to return to the safety of their memory, they motioned to close the door behind them. As they did, they saw a faint blue glow, as an elderly woman ran towards them, calling out to her to hold the door. It was a familiar face, that of the woman Melina they had met in the cave to Fatoris. Feeling uneasy, and that the voided space may swallow them all, she closed the door on the spectre.
sitting awkwardly through breakfast, our heroes waited for the memory to completely play out. As the orphans left the dining room, Liaden and Zilara talked at length. The conversation reminding Liaden of how little she contacted home these days. A year and a half ago, when she first left, she sent letters every week. Eventually, these became every fortnight, then every month. Now, with these companions, the letters had ceased. Guilt filled her heart, clashing with her sense of duty. Knowing full well that, if she returned now without an answer, she may never leave again.
Reliving the heart-wrenching conversation drove Liaden to question herself. Ready to move to another memory, regret was all Liaden could feel now. She had to find some way to make this right. As she turned the handle, the other side revealed the bustling market square of Fatoris. The featureless faces of men and women wandered around with jingling purses ripe like fruit and begging to be taken. Just as Oryim was about to indulge in a time honored tradition, the party noticed that time had stopped. Coins halted in mid-air, people ceased moving. Odd, but an opportunity for fun Oryim thought, as he repositioned the people in the square to hug one another.
As Oryim moved the locals, our heroes became aware of another entity moving in the frozen dream. A sleek, gaunt creature with mirror-like black scales, leathery wings and dog like back legs crawled around, digging at the gravel and dirt. Unnerved by the creature, but ever curious, Oryim called out to it, in hopes of establishing a connection. As the creature turned to face the party, they noticed that it had no face at all. No ears, no nose, no eyes, nothing. It stood up straight and walked over to them calmly, creating an odd sound between a gurgle and a crackling.
Oryim stood firm as the creature approached. About 10 feet away, the creature waved and gestured to shake Oryim's hand. Taken aback by the polite mannered creature, Oryim shook its hand. Without a missed beat, the handshake was ended and the creature dug up a handfull of gravel and dirt from around Oryim's feet before depositing it into a bag. It waved farewell as it reached deep into the fabric of the dream, opened a void, stepped through and like a door, closed the void behind it again.
From extensive research into children's adventure books, Oryim was able to identify that the creature was a nightgaunt, a denizen of the extra-planar realm known as the dream lands. As the creature left, time continued, but the dream was in a now altered state. As the bodies of the memory attempted to return to their original positions, they tore holes in the dream creating empty space without overlap. This, in turn, caused the dream to play on loop and become faster and faster. In the space left over, a new memory took its place.
A father, a mother and a sister sat around a manger with a baby concealed inside. Whose faces these were escaped our heroes and whose memory it was was a more difficut question to answer. Kalydin took the site in, as a spark of recognition occured. This was his family. He could not remember the names or the faces fully, but he knew. Strangely though, this was not his memory, as the baby in the manger was Kalydin. This memory was from another a being that seemingly could not be seen by Kalydin's family. A being that Kalydin, as a baby, could see vividly. Kalydin, in that dream like reverie, realised that this memory belonged to seraph; his guardian angel.
As Oryim's dream continued to accelerate, the void rift grew larger. Liaden shook Kalydin to get his attention as they found the nearest door and, instead of stepping blindly, attempted to have Kalydin channel a memory in order to go where they needed. Kalydin thought of the door, locked and chained in hopes that they might be able to pull them off by force. And, while partially successful sending them to another Kalydin memory, it wasn't the one he intended. Instead, it was a memory from beyond the door. Our heroes stood in a meadow of tall grass, fresh breeze blowing through their senses as they saw a young girl running towards them. They pressed their hand to Kalydin's back, pushing him over. He looked up from the ground to see the girl standing over him yelling "Tag! You're it!"
Bewildered, he stood up as his mother came from the back door of a house not far from there. She kneeled down to look at Kalydin, her warm features smiling gently as she wiped his face. "Frieda, no pushing your brother!" She turned to the girl and gave her a disapproving look, to which the girl responded with a sheepish "Sorry mummy, sorry Kalydin." After confirming that Kalydin was well, she returned to their small country cottage and, simultaneously, his sister yelled "Daddies home!" running towars the house to greet their father.
This calm respite would soon be dashed, as over a grassy knoll came a familiar and terrifying visage. The nightmare being that they had narrowly escaped last time had reappeared, this time atop a dark and brooding steed made of smoke and smouldering like embers on a dying fire. With the mounted nightmare fast approaching our heroes made for the nearest door. However, the back door to the house was already open. Searching now, the only door left was the front which Kalydin's father had just opened. There was a vague familiarity about his face, to both Kalydin and Oryim, though they couldn't quite place it.
With the sounds of galloping drawing ever closer, our heroes made for the door, closing it and attempting to make their way to another memory. They stepped through the door and were met by a frigid wind and a quiet township covered by a soft layer of snow. This was unfamiliar to all of them, they wracked their minds of where or when this might be. As they did, they heard a being call out and wave "Good morning, Daelin!" Confused, our heroes continued, with more and more people waving and calling out. It was Liaden who noticed that their gaze was fixed on Seraph, and that Seraph in this memory was changing.
No longer did he appear as an angel carved out of marble, but rather as a mortal man. Lean, dark haired and near middle age. Seraph vaguely remembered himself at this time, this was his old home from when he was mortal. The town of Ishfell, in the country of Hydenbur. He was apparently on his way to collect something from a local smith, by the name of Olga. The two argued over the cost of a strange necklace, Olga claiming it would cost 1000 gold for the materials alone. Daelin, however, had only 20 silver to his name at that point. Reluctantly, Olga reliquished the trinket telling Daelin that he owed her, big time, and that she would definitely make good on that debt.
Feeling it was time to leave, Kalydin also felt that the door behind which some memories were locked was beginning to crack open. The chains around it beginning to slacken. He thought of the door once more and attempted to find his way towards it. As the door opened, they were once again in Kalydin's childhood home, a place he didn't remember in a time long forgotten. They were outside his parents bedroom, he remembered having a nightmare of his house burning and was seeking comfort from his parents. But when he knocked on the door it was his sister, Frieda, who answered. Wondering what was going on, Kalydin's father stepped through the doorway, kneeling down and looking deep into Kalydin's eyes. "You won't understand yet, but I'll teach you everything."
Dread filled Kalydin and he threw open the door to his parents' bedroom. Runes were carved into the walls, runes that were familiar from Sam's dream and from the underground structure they had travelled through on thier way to Fatoris. Frieda bore down on Kalydin's mother with a thick ritual knife, though was held at bay. Frieda was thrown from her mother and fell to her knees. Kalydin's father stood, and in the light Oryim's recognition sparked. This man bore a striking resemblance to his father. This man was Grimwalde Daedark. The man The Mistress of Fatoris had charged with orchestrating the second Dossil war.
Gone was the warmth in his eyes. Gone was the kindness of his voice. In their place were dark, pitiless holes and a harshness like the grinding of stone on stone. "You have failed." he spoke in a deep trembling tone as he struck Frieda across the face. He dragged her to her feet and made to leave. Kalydin, standing there confused was then the target of Grimwalde's ire, as he threw him out of the way. As Kalydin sat up, watching his father and sister leave through the front door, Grimwalde turned and cast a spell. A small dot of light shot from his finger and exploded with flame in the centre of their home. As their home burned, Kalydin's mother crawled towards him, but was crushed by the burning debris. It was then that an angel held him tightly and in a somber and soft voice said "No matter what. I will protect you."
Kalydin's memory ended there. Soon replaced with the memory of waking to see the charred landscape where his home once stood. The long grass he had once run through with his sister were little more than ash and soot in the dirt. Oryim stared at his newly recognised cousin and shared his insight with the group. Sharing a silent stare with one another, it was clear to them both that, one way or another, Grimwalde Daedark had to die.
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