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Arielle wrote: "I- I do not know. I think my name is Arielle. But I do not remember anything from more than a few hours ago. Who are you?"
Nickname 'Victoria'? ;)
The lake begins to vigorously steam, soon disappearing from view along with its occupant in a swirling, thick, cloud of fog. The ground seems to lurch up to catch Lynora-Jill and the others, and then swoops back down again, jerking back and forth and sideways, shaking vigourously, until gradually the fog starts to thin, and a golden glow of someone looking like Sunny G can be glimpsed by Lynora-Jill, just a short way ahead.
Lady: You would have to be something as great and terrible as the Night Dragon itself, or one of the mythical daughters of the morning to move me with threats of consequences. If you are neither of those, then frankly I don't care if you think that you're the archmage of Cancan, for all the threat you are likely to be to me.
Now; I have a proposal. You are in a hurry. I shall waive my usual enjoyment of watching someone struggle if you agree that within the next one thousand and one days and nights - as measured by the great planar clock of the Axiomatics (not sure here is modrens exist or not in this game) - you will either bring me the last laugh of a dying dragon, name your first born Victoria if a girl or Victor if a boy, or give up the ability to fly, walk the air, or otherwise travel through what appears to me to be your natural element for a period of seven consecutive calendar weeks - again as measured by the great planar clock of the Axiomatics.
If you agree, you can discharge your side of the bargain at any point within those thousand and one days and nights at your convenience by fulfilling any one of those three conditions; the last one kicks in if you reach the end of the period without having otherwise paid.
That is my proposal.
The woman had gone back to combing her hair, and humming, but breaks off again, and glances up at Lynora-Jill.
Not a lot since you're currently very much sticking to the rules. Your frustration, and to see you squirm as you're delayed. I can't pull you apart and eat you.
If you abide by the rules, all that I can do 'here' is slow you down a bit. Most people 'here' aren't actually in any hurry to get anywhere. Back home, it's another matter altogether...
Are you one of those rare few people who pop up once in a few thousand years and have somewhere else to urgently be then?
As Lynora-Jill calls upon the speed of the wind in an effort to propel them, a breeze begins to rise to impede her forward progress, matching practically inch for inch, the effort which she calls up for support.
From an aerial perspective, Lynora's view of the lake seems to shift and change as the lake spread to a dizzying distance; she practically loses sight of Sunny G - he must be somewhere over there still, on the barely glimpsed far shore of the lake, many miles away.
You're looking at a walk of several hours here... *Sigh* Back home, your spell would have simply conked out and dropped you straight into the water.
The woman watches, an amused expression on her face, as Lynora's spell appears to succeed.
Build a raft from items about your person; take a swim and risk the horrors in the lake; produce a scroll of The Days of The Master Paper Folder, and fold yourself a bridge; be ingenious with whatever gear you may have about your person and your native industry.... Or answer one final question - most horribly unfair - or make some meaningful payment or sacrifice.
Edit:
I always enoy a good haggle, she adds.
Well, here in Dream, I have limitations on what I can do, but basically, through some kind of fair effort you must win your way past or across the lake. If you try to cheat, the smile is back again, well I wake up, and drag you kicking and screaming out of this place with me, to my lair. On the most haunted mountain on Gulmunhav.
A thing unseen, with a wild voice; its strength can overturn ships, but it cannot pass a barred door.
Ah... the woman's smile is back and broadens momentarily. You asked a question or riddle. Excellent, I love to play these sort of games, and no you may not currently pass.
Red or blue it flows, it rusts as dries,
If none left, then one dies.
You’re thinking, of course, that this is only a dream. The woman breaks off from humming, to address Lynora-Jill. Or perhaps not. But if you were thinking it, for once, here in the Realm of Dreams, you’d be right. This is ‘only’ – not Trufelhunthar in truth – and you need not fear such things as the coming of the night, or perhaps not quite so badly. I would most sincerely like to invite you to come home to play with me, by all means, however, if you do not take me sufficiently seriously.
She flashes a smile – or perhaps she shows her teeth in a mirthless grin.
Lynora and the others emerge from the vast grey sandstone doorway at the end of the labyrinth into what seems to be a gentle valley between two low hills, with a small lake spread out across the valley floor. On the far side of the lake, although he does not seem to be aware of her presence, is a figure which looks to Lynora like Sunny G. The surface of the lake is smooth, touched by hardly a ripple, although the occasional wisp of steam or smoke puffs from the surface.
On a small earth island, a little way from Lynora’s shore of the lake, sits a woman with little to wear apart from her long golden hair, sitting with the lower half of her body trailing in the water – the unexpectedly dark waters of the lake make it difficult to be certain if below the waist she is as human as she quite patently is above it.
The ghoul, Pickman, hisses and draws back in fear.
The Shadow Lake, he says. This is an ill place to linger. The name and place are worse in the world of mortals, but here it is bad enough.
With scarcely a backwards glance he draws back through the great doorway into the silent shadows of the labyrinth.
Lynora senses that her path leads across to the distant shore of the lake.
The woman close to this side is humming a tune (unfamiliar to Lynora) as she runs an ivory comb through her hair. She casts no reflection in the eerily still waters of the lake.
Well, okay, if you're cutting ahead.... (post to shortly follow)
Umm, and what is there to stop the scene (or a cemetery too, for that matter) from being in a labyrinth instead? :)
If you could make sure that the exit once Lynora-Jill gets there is a gate or door of some kind (if she doesn't wake up with a scream before she gets there) and I'll resume from there (immediately if I'm still up and posting).
Sorry about the discussions in the background over how to torment your character, Lynora... :D
Hmm, well if everyone else is too busy to respond with events/people/places at present... With a grinding shift of stone the landscape swirls around Lynora Jill, cutting her off from any companions, and suddenly plunging her into the stygian gloom of a labyrinth; walls of high rock soar all around her into swirling mists. Somewhere in the distance a song reverberates through the air.
I'm assuming Alaina has been sucked into one of those unstable areas, and that Lynora-Jill is on the edge of it.
Edit:
Okay, Patrick, there's a labyrinth, I'll have some fun at the other end.
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