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Posted by on 2005 May 2 |

Visions of Darkness

(232 Arhat 379)

An overwhelming set of visions made themselves clear in the skies this day. Here is what I saw, decide as you will what they might mean…A tattered spider web hangs loosely in the air before you, the gossamer strands that once held it in place now broken and fluttering chaotically in the passing breeze. The faint echo of voices draws your attention to a single strand that begins to pulse dimly with a faint bluish hue, the subtle rhythmic cadence reminiscent of your own fading heartbeat. As your mind drifts into darkness, a brilliant flash of light draws your attention skyward to the faintly illuminated window of a room resting high in a tower of crystal. Within sits a dark Elven man, his tattooed neck tense and his brow furrowed as whispers of treachery flow quietly into his ears from a cloaked figure sitting at his right.

The shadowy stranger rises with an outstretched hand pointing to the north then angrily draws it down in sweeping gestures toward the ground. The movements betrays ever so slightly their attempts to conceal their features as the smooth curvature of their skull becomes obvious beneath the weight of their darkened hood. A shimmering wash of light from behind the conspirators betrays the presence of an illuminated figure watching with concern from within a bright-white beam of flickering luminance. Despite the obvious existence of the new arrival, neither of the two conversing individuals seems to take any notice of the intruder or the angry visage now marked so clearly across their face. With a quick wave of a hand the light sinks in around the radiant form as the darkness quickly returns in the absence of the warming illumination.

The darkness slips away from your eyes as the sounds of battle rage around you. The scent of blood and dirt assaults your nose as you try to focus through a cloud of dust that rises high into the sky around you. Watching it closely, you gaze in fascination as the dusty spire takes the shape of an immense hourglass, the blood-tinted earth rising and falling through its center in a macabre dance of uncertainty. With an ear-shattering clap of thunder the raging sandstorm explodes outward in a blustering gust of stinging sand, erasing the battle beneath the tormented screams of all who have fallen. Just as your mind is ripped back to the present your ears manage to grasp a single voice whispering softly the words, “The oath is broken.”

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Baresh started working at the Wren’s Nest when it first opened in 349AL. He’s been hearing the news and pouring drinks ever since then.