"Memories..." whispers Lana, before giving a start and glancing over at Shanya. "Dreams, yes..." Is there a difference?
Closing her eyes, Lana takes a deep breath and tries to compose herself. But when one 'wakes', which dreams will have been real?
"I was thinking dreams too, " Kalt concurs. "Now we just need to go into the next chamber and carry back a handful of dreams. Though I'm guessing it'll be more complicated even than that. "
Shanya shrugs and starts walking into the other chamber.
"Dreams, dreams!" Tryva nods in approval at Shanya's insight.
It looks squarely at Lana. "Truth and fiction, future and past. All is as real, real as you allow. You know, Daughter of the midday sun, you know these things. You too could have a place here, the mouthpiece for Grandmother; secrets, truth."
Shanya wanders into a room in stark contrast to the sunny chamber. This small, candlelit bedroom is empty save for a plain wooden bed and a night table where a pale candle burns in an iron candleholder. The bed is perfectly made, but the sheets display an ominous, dark crimson stain in the middle of the bed.
A pale skinned, white haired woman sits on the edge of the bed frame, dressed in a crimson nightgown. Although at first glance she appears Jadwiga, she has a otherworldly air to her, as her form seems to shift and shimmer as you stare at her. She seems to be weeping softly.
Lana shudders at the raven's words. A mouthpiece? No... surely there's to be more to my life than that.
Kalt eyes the old woman suspiciously. In spite of her weeping, he can't help but mistrust anyone they find in this place.
"What is it we're looking at," he says quietly, "Is she real or some kind of ghost?"
Shanya arches an eyebrow. "Hmm."
She turns and whispers to the rest of the party. "It appears that she's an animate dream. They have the power to affect emotions and dreams, and their touch can drive a man insane with nightmares."
"Not only that, but it appears our dream is none other than Yelizaveta, 13th queen of Irrisen. She's Elvanna's older sister... perhaps she needs to be put to rest."
"The bloodstain on the bed would provide evidence for that theory." Shanya glances back at the weeping former queen.
Part of her feels a pang of sympathy for the queen, much to her own surprise.
"There is the possibility that she can understand us. That being said, considering this incarnation of the queen was born from a powerful dreamer's leftover energies, she might be incredibly powerful. I recommend we proceed with caution."
"Actually, animate dreams are intelligent and capable of telepathy." She glances back at the weeping queen. "We might be able to communicate with her, if you feel so inclined."
The dream does not speak. It stops its weeping and stares at Sven with grey eyes. It is a cold and hateful stare, bereft of peace or kindness.
"Remember, remember; oh I would forget! Grandmother house, grandmother's bed. Something... something awful. No, don't make me live the nightmare again!"
The apparition cradles its head and begins to rock back and forth, as though trying to shut the words out.
Shanya keeps quiet and lets Sven work.
At the mention of vengeance and Baba Yaga the dream of Queen Yelizaveta bursts forth from its growing fugue with startling speed; her look turns from fear to anger.
"Grandmother, grandmother, wicked grandmother, she did this. She did this Giant's oaths and chicken eggs and dolls and dolls and all the pain... I would do it her myself, I would be the hand! Thrice and ten times over I would make her pay for this thing!"
Yelizaveta's dream stops and suddenly shifts its look again, eyes drooping in a look both distant and forlorn. "It would not be enough. It would not be enough for me. Sister's hand may do the deed, but it won't be enough, will it?"
The dream has said much, but yet holds some desire back.
"Wait--Baba Yaga did this to you?" Shanya's eyes widen in surprise. "Then what would be enough for you to finally know peace?"
The dream looks maudlin for a moment. "My soul, my soul... I just want my soul to be free. Give me my soul back!"
Its secrets revealed, the dreams aura flickers in bright swaths of red and black for a moment before it hovers off the bed and begins to move with madness and malice in its eyes. It is clear that whatever mockery of reason the thing possessed has been shattered by the memory of its demise.
(+2 in cold or underground from Kalt)
Ankih Tohep
Avora Teremocles (+3 in cold)
Greta
Kalt Ìsson
Lana Shahakh
Shanya
Sven Bjornson
Avora speaks in a low voice. "I can't see her suffer like this. End it."
Blade held before him protectively, as if it would some shield him from a ghost, Kalt calls out, "We have the answer to the riddle, let's get out of this place! The longest-lived warriors are the ones who know which fights to avoid. Go! Sven and I will bring up the rear! "
He waits for his companions to move, then follows after them.
The strike is true - barely - and some of the dreamstuff is dissipated into nothingness. However, the damage is less then Sven would have predicted. The creature moans, but it is a moan of emptiness and need, not of pain.
" I may be able to help with that..." Ankih says as he watches Sven's attack be less than it should.
Summoning a scroll case from his haversak, he pulls it out and chants a scroll.
Shanya winces as Sven steps forward to end Yelizaveta's suffering. "Objection noted, Kalt. Also ignored."
Knowing that there's not much she can do to hurt her, she instead focuses on helping Sven dodge the dream's attacks.
"Okay, we help her by killing her, eh?" Kalt says, stepping forward next to Sven. He swings his blade at the phantasm, unsure whether it'll have any effect.
Avora stabs at the ethereal creature, unsure if her spear will make a difference, but wanting to help.
Avora's spear merely passes through a colorful swirl, but Kalt's blade dissipates a large smear of colorful ethereal material, distorting the dream's form. Painless, fearless, the creature begins a banshee-like wail.
Lana moves up behind Avora and touches the other woman's shoulder briefly.
The spirit reaches out to touch Kalt with a ghostly hand. Before it can complete the motion, it stops and shudders, a far-off look in its eye. "Who are you? My sisters and I... where are we? So cold... so cold. Mother, my bones, they ache"
The creatures eyes fade to black pits that call out and threaten to swallow onlookers with their endless depths. The the mind can't help but resonate with the pitiful creature, its pain and sorrow.
Lana suddenly frowns as she feels the creature's deep pain resonate within her. "No! Out! Begone!" she exclaims, swatting at herself with one hand.
Shanya manages to shake off the confusion effect, but notices that Lana appears to have succumbed to it.
"My apologies, milady, but it takes more than that to hoodwink a changeling." She quips.
"Although I'll give you credit for trying; confusion spell effects are difficult even for experienced mages to handle."
Noticing that Kalt was the last target of the queen's touch, she switches tactics.
Incorporeal. Intelligent approach is useless here. Dammit.
Still, she stabs with her rapier...
Kalt sees the horror in the old woman's eyes and it consumes him, his mind in a frenzy of sorrow and grief. In an effort to take his mind off the pain, he whacks himself in the head with the flat of his blade.
"Ahhh!" Avora screams, stabbing wildly at the figure behind her.
" Kalt! Avora! Wha-?"
" Nasty spell my incorporeal friend."
Intoning a quick spell he flicks his wrist at the dream apparition.
Maybe it will work better here.
Great globs of incorporeal mass fly off the creature as Ankih, Sven and Shanya strike, but the dream lives on.
With each of the heroes that gets drawn into the madness, the strange web of unreality surrounding the dream grows more colorful. With each taste of fear, the wavering substance grows ever so slightly more real.
The dreams lip's curl into a slight smile as it attempts to run its icy fingers through Sven's body.
It's at this point that Shanya realizes that it's not only Lana who succumbed--Kalt and Avora have also been afflicted by the madness the dream spawned.
Her face pales. "...oh, s$%%."
She stabs at the queen again...