Dream Initiation (Malidin)
From Toosigma
| Title | Dream Initiation |
|---|---|
| Author | Brandon Horn - Malidin |
| Campaign | Shattered Prisons |
| Session | Intersession |
| Posted | April 6, 2007 |
| Game Date |
Night falls after your battle in the broken fortress. Your companions seem exhausted by the events of the past few days – even the normally indefatigable Ayanna seems weighed down by the magnitude of what might soon come to pass. Marius takes first watch, and you feel your eyes close slowly, knowing that you need whatever rest you can manage to find amidst your racing thoughts.
You awake to find yourself in a very different place, dressed in the pure white robes of an acolyte of the order. You look around in wonder, and recognize the great cathedral in Moradukr. The stonework is of the highest order – far surpassing the wildest dreams of lesser stonemasons – the web-like butresses almost seem to float on the air, they are so light and airy. Looking around, you now see more acolytes, barely a half dozen, all dressed as you are. You small number is swallowed by the immensity of the cathedral designed to accommodate thousands – your entire clan.
A side door opens, drawing your gaze to a small file of similarly dressed priests of the order, walking slowly to the altar. You recall numerous ceremonies to the Sovereign Host – carried out by the priests of that order, but now there is a gravity – a stillness to the air – that seems to freeze time and perception as you watch these priests, including your mentor, prepare for the ritual to come. Two of the priests carry a large unadorned metal box, setting it gently on the altar where so many times you have received the blessings of the Host – but the Host is not present. A power of an entirely different order is presiding here – a power that seems to flow within your very veins as your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.
The Grand Patriarch approaches the altar, and withdraws from beneath his simple ceremonial robes a key unlike any you have seen before. The key seems carved from the purest crystal, refracting the scare moonlight in a dazzling display. He places the key within the lock on the metal box eliciting a loud click as it is turned – undiminished by the immensity of the cathedral, or the breathless penitents within. Raising the lid, he reaches within and draws forth a hammer – twisted and misshapen, it hardly seems worthy of such reverence, barely worthy of being the cast-off first attempt of a novice smith – but as the Patriarch whispers the words of the Prayer of Protection, the hammer bursts into a silvery white flame, flickering as though alive within the gleaming moonlight.
“Malidin Ironbrew,” the Patriarch intones, reverently, as he steps to the front of the altar. Your heart stops, recognizing the great honor being bestowed upon you as the first to be ordained in nearly two decades, you hardly know how your feet managed to carry you to the altar. Looking to the heavens, you recite the Prayer of Protection, and kneel before the altar, bowing your head. You feel the barest touch of the holy Withered Hammer to your shoulder, but the near electric shock races through your body like wildfire, almost causing you to forget the prayer you have recited thousands in the past five years of your confirmation and training.
“Arise, Brother Malidin Ironbrew – Initiate of the Order of the Withered Hammer” You do so, tears of the utmost joy and reverence clouding your vision, but instead of the Patriarch, you see your mentor, Garmer Stoneanvil. The warmth and caring in his eyes is almost overwhelming, and you see the pride at your initiation, the culmination of years of hard work by both of you. He reaches out his left hand to clasp you by the shoulder, but his touch is cold, chilling you right through the thick woolen robe, down to the core of your bones. You turn to look, but see only a withered skeletal hand. Horrified, you look back at his face, but a dark shadowy sickness passes over his face, leaving only a rotting skull grinning wickedly back at you. Turning to run, you see the other priests have been dessicated as well, all pressing up against you, driving the warmth from your flesh, making it impossible to breathe...
... you awaken in the cold of the morning, gasping for air. Ayanna sitting nervously by your side.
