To Dream a Reality

[Gilliadson]

The young bard runs up to Mujbura after witnessing the events.

"Greetings M'Lady, I am Zask. I was sent by Sir Shadowbane to assist you in any way I can. Right now it appears that you can use my speed."

The Half-Elf smiles slightly as he pulls out an ornately designed drum and begins to play a cadence on it.
The magical rhythm fills their legs with energy.

"Lead on M'Lady and I will follow"

[Cerissa]

Innoruuks grin blessed his hateful daughter, a child born as no other had grown to a woman bereft of any goodness found in others. As she gazed upon his true form she knew then why he was chosen. She lay on the sand beckoning him to come to her. He lays beside her and she relishes his arms but for a single moment.

“Remis,” she starts, “you come to me willingly. This, my lover, is your benefit.” Lifting herself up one one elbow she looks him in the eyes. “Let no one say I am not merciful.” she whispers while her fingertips make their way around the chain holding the pendant that was his prison.

Lifting the chain from her neck she hesitates for a moment before a wicked grin darkens her face, “You will always belong to me.” Tiny, blue fingers wrap around the pendant as she whispers, “But for now you are free.” The fingers close upon the pendant that crumbles into tiny grains of sand mixing into the sands beneath them.

She stands to her feet, facing away from him with her hand still in a fist. “Go to your family.” Long, pointed nails dig into the flesh of her palm. “Remis…” The simple command spoken and the sands around them begin to swirl in the wind of hate to carry his soul back to his body. Her voice deathly cold and strongly commanding, “Wake.”

[Mujbura]

Mujbura looked up at the Bard, her still glowing, wolf eyes squinting in a smile. She had a long journey to make, but was even thankful for just having some company. The tribe was scattered now, and gathering them together again would not be an easy task. She wasn’t even sure if they would listen to her, but she had to try. Destiny’s are funny things that way, difficult to obtain, but the rewards were sweet. And all she wanted right now was to rejoin the tribe as they should be, as one.

She nods her head slowly toward the Bard patting him on the shoulder as if saying, “Good man.” She looked off into the distance, as always a storm was brewing. And the pair were going to have to head straight into it.

[Stormfollower]

Turning away from the hole into reality the shaman dove headlong Into the greyness that now had engulfed the dream-paradise. A paradise that, until scant moments before had been envisioned by the imdominable good will of Mujburra. Deep he fell, drawing the banalized spirits with him. All five horizons disappeared into the fog of hopelessness which had threatened to seep further into the real world. And he fell. Down... down he fell, until down was no more. Directions lost all their meaning in the sea of nothing. The flat light which demanded only introspection had no source and meaning fell away from all thought. It was here he knew his captor lurked. Cerrisa`s dreams were made of this modlin cloud-stuff and all around the echoes of the greylings propagated its thick neutral miasma of apathy. With no bearings Stormfollower could only navigate towards the grasping singularity that was Cerrisa`s id. This was his only referance point and he knew that there is where he would find his son.

[Mujbura]

The feet of the Druid and the Bard move with exceptional speed. She knew her mission, and while they ran her thoughts were still on Stormfollower. She tried to think of the words she could say to reunite the tribe while the insecurity of her even being capable to do so ate away at her.

Even with the pep talk of her dear friend Pashen, she could not completely dismiss that she had failed. Her entire existence was to unite the tribes, and yet she couldn’t even keep a single one together. She couldn’t aid or defend one so close to her that even the word “love” had minimal meaning.

The ache in her heart grew as they ran, the guilt built within her with each step. Should she be with him? Should she be chasing a tribe that she had essentially torn apart? Would anyone of any side involved even listen to her? Her vision clouded by tears she didn’t realize she had caused her to mis-step and send her tumbling down a snow covered hill.

[Gilliadson]

Zask helps Mujbura to her feet and changes his cadence a little and they are lifted off of the ground. The magic of the beat renders them invisible and gives them the energy to run faster again.

"Lead on M'Lady. This rhythm may help us more."

[Mujbura]

Downward she had fallen, downward as if there were no end. A fleeting moment promised no hope and a renewal simultaneously. As she fell the darkness grew around her until a clarity was reached. All things were obscure and pellucid. A sense of being lost and yet knowing the path. And so she fell, downward, the white snow was pitch black within her mind.

A solid landing brought her mind back to her and she lay there catching her breath. She looked up at the Bard atop the hill. It didn’t seem as far as she had felt herself fall and she knew, he had fallen into the abyss of dreams. The void where only the most wicked can exist.

Her hand in his follows a grateful smile as the Bard helps her to her feet. How could she explain to him this wasn’t a simple trip? Perhaps, with his magical music it wouldn’t be necessary. “Lead on M’Lady. This rhythm may help us more.” he says. She peeks up a shy smile, her voice muffled under the fur over her mouth, “Thank you.”

She closes her eyes praying the Gods provide her direction to find members of the tribe. A sense, a feeling, a connection. She turns the direction the Gods will, keeping her eyes closed, her hand still holding his and they were off once again.

[Stormfollower]

In the heart of the grey he senced her. Her icy thoughts, barely abstractions of any human meaning. An outflow of primal urges led away from her and out into the tangible world. She had released them. Up ahead he could now see a dim light at the end of a long whirlpool and nearing its edge was Remis. He tried to call to him but the rush of the swirling greyness and the incesent murmers of the greylings made such a din that he knew his son could not hear. Remis swirled around the outer rim of the outflow a few last times before he flung hid head back to look directly at Stormfollower. Just before he dissapeared out into the Aspen Grove he mouthed the words ``See you soon son`` towards his father, a maniacal grin apon his face.

``What madness is this now?" Stormfollower thought to himself as his revolutions down ad around the whirlpool steadily quickened.

[Jetamio]

A loud crashing through the undergrowth had Jetamio jumping to her feet, her flaming staff ready for battle. Radha also stood up and grabbed her blade, although she was still stiff from her earlier injury.

But the elderly white bear that emerged from the forest caught them both off guard for a moment before Jetamio realized that he carried the prone form of her husband. She threw her weapon to the ground and ran to the bear. A warning growl brought her short however, and she stopped. She made eye contact with the bear and after a moment nodded.

I am she. I will take him. Please, feed yourself, there is fresh fish by the fire that I haven't cooked yet.

With that, Pashen let her take Stormfollower from his back, where she then laid him down next to Remis and covered him with furs to keep him warm, her salty tears dripping onto his face as she gazed down at him. Finally she looked up, looking for any sign of Mujbura. When she couldn't see her, she looked at the bear again.

Is she safe?

[Stormfollower]

Once the tears hit his face Stormfollower awoke with a start. He rolled to his side, looked at Remis. Then slowly got to his feet.
"I must bind and gag him" He said, pointing at Remis

"I don`t want to hear anymore of his madness." Placing his thumbs in his belt he looked around.

"What are we doing here?" Then after a second parousal "Where are my people?"

He reached for his packs and removed cloth and ropes with wich he began to bind his son.

[Mujbura]

Pashen groans a nod out to Jetamio, the bear communicating through natural channels that Mujbura was fine. A tug against his spirit and he groans again suddenly running off into the distance.

Through a cold and intense storm Zask and Mujbura continued their trek across the cold and harsh lands to locate and reunite the tribe. She pushed aside the insecurity she felt with regards if they would listen to her. Every now and again a shy smile was peeked over at Zask, if only he knew how grateful she was not to have to travel alone.

The Mother leads her daughter while The Tribunal tames the storm leading the pair to the first portion of the divided tribe. Met with apprehension she looks toward Zask for encouragement. The Gods were plentiful with their blessings, but still she knew it was her words that were needed to address the tribe. Public speaking definitely not being her forte’, she simply nods taking a deep breath before addressing the tribesmen in their native tongue.

Whispers became murmers, questions became accusations and anxiety became tension. She had paused a moment, begging in soft prayers within her mind to the Gods for aid once again. She glances at Zask, feeling bad for him. Had he known the task and the danger? Was he assigned or did he volunteer? How much has he, or will he, regret this assignment? She had determined that if it appeared she could not turn the tribe around she would at least ensure his safety.

A soft glow from the heavens appears silencing the crowd. Even Mujbura’s words of reunification are halted by the booming groan. The glow creates a fluorescent gleam that fades leaving a large pure-white bear, risen to its hind legs standing proud and majestic. The last of the gleam leaves and a white-haired Northman stands before them, his thick armor a bright-white gift of the Gods.

“Pashen…?” Mujbura whispers. She smiles realizing their meeting when she was but a child was not an accident, but destiny. The years they had spent in Everfrost where lessons on survival, and the ways of their people were preparing her for her future. Their people, so many revelations had come to light in this time of trial. The humble Feir’dal servant kneels to an ancient that she realizes is her spirit guide, the tribesmen following suit to kneel before one of their Ancestors.

He stands beside Zask and Mujbura, while in human form not being simply a man. A pack of wolves, numerous colors of seasons, approach the village. Their legs lengthen and fur disappears as they too stand upright before the tribe. A sense of family washes over Mujbura as smiled greetings are shared between all. These were the totems of their people, all of them, Elven and Northmen alike, and the reason she had been brought to Halas.

Stepping in front of the people he reminds them of who they are, unity and strength in the face of adversity and that their own actions shall determine the judgement of The Tribunal.

Pashen turns toward Mujbura and states, “As the tribe of our brother, Stormfollower, has divided, so shall we. But not wandering aimlessly. We will do so in search of our strength, that which unites us all, just unity in goodness.”

He motions toward the now humbled tribe as he continues, “Take your brethren, find the rest of our descendants and take them to he who shall lead us all. Your testimonies of this very moment and the direction and will of The Tribunal shall aid you in reuniting our descendants.”

She has to shore up her shoulder as he places a strong hand upon it with a gentle expression upon his face, “The darkness has swallowed his son whole, he cannot be saved. Stormfollower must accept this and allow him to be removed from tainting the tribe once again.” He pats her shoulder, “The one who gave him life must be the one to reclaim that which she had given him, tell her to be strong.”

Mujbura swallows down a lump that swells quickly with great thickness in her throat. His gentle expression turns to an encouraging smile as he pats her shoulder, “Family is far more than reproduced flesh.”

Pashen places a strong hand on Zasks shoulder and states, “I leave her in your care, carry her well and quickly to the remaining tribesmen.” Patting his shoulder with a stronger, reassuring grip, he smiles stating, “The Tribunal and The Mother promise their blessings.”

A storm is given life allowing the winds to sweep up snow which covers over Pashen and the pack with the same fluorescent gleam that seems to dissipate oddly quick.

[Gilliadson]

Zask had knelt along with the tribe upon seeing the ancient ones. Now upon his feet as Pashen gives him his directive.

"I shall care for her as if she were my own blood." Zask smiles brightly toward Mujbura.

[Jetamio]

"what?" Jetamio asked, surprise and confusion evident in her tone. She had not expected him to awaken instantly.

"pashen brought you here, Mujbura is out looking for the tribe, and why must we bind and gag remis?"

((Grrrr, i hate bad grammar, but my keyboard is fubared, the qwerty line of keys won't type capital letters. it's almost oCD level annoyance for me to type with no capital letters at the start of sentences and names *twitch* ))

[Stormfollower]

Stormfollower turned with a look of annoyance etched across his face. He continued to bind Remis tightly first gagging him with a tight cloth.

"I am tired of his insanities! Alright? Time he was dealt with in a manner more suited to the incurable."

He shot a glance towards the others present in the sacred grove then spoke directly to Jetamio again without acknowledging them with even so little as a nod.

"Now...last I recall I left you and the rest of these heroes in defence of the tribe. Please tell me you did not desert them there." His look was one of incredulity. His hands continued to tie knot after knot tightly and deftly about Remis while his shocked gaze remained fixed on Jetamio.

[Mujbura]

Mujbura peeks up a shy smile toward Zask as she slips her hand in his. He didn’t have to agree to Pashen’s direction, but he did so willingly, and she was all the more grateful for him. For being a Druid, when tasked she really would rather have had the company of others.

A couple elders of the tribe stepped forward, their voices gruff and heavy, “We will join you.” And so the men kissed their wives on the cheek and fell in line.

Mujbura peeks up at Zask and whispers, “Seems you are that great of a leader.” then pulls the small piece of fur back over her mouth though her eyes still reveal the shy smile she attempts to hide.

Her voice a bit muffled, she whispers a prayer to The Mother who turns the group in the direction of the remaining tribesmen.

(( My apologies for taking so long to post, the holiday kind of kept me busy. 9 year olds are exhausting! :p ))