A Walk in the Neighborhood

[Dracos]

Dracos shakes his head and laughs.  "You're crazy.  Anyways, I'm going to go turn in.  Be careful, yeself."

Dracos, unless stopped by Liandril, starts heading down to where the storm-riders are ensconed hoping to get some rest!

Dracos

[Brian]

Liandral doesn't budge, or move to stop you, though he does nod.  "Rest well," he says, turning to survey the battlefield again.

[Dracos]

Heads down to try and find his chambers for rest and then rests, assuming no one interrupts him or catches his sleepy eyes.

Dracos

[Brian]

As you cross the courtyard to the keep, you recall that you were given quarters -- reasonably decent ones -- inside before you left.  The prospect of a warm fire is somewhat pleasing ... but you also have a tent set up in the Storm-rider camp.

[Dracos]

Dracos, well brainwashed in the ways of keeping people he has to work with somewhat happy, heads to his storm riders tent.

Dracos

[Brian]

You make it to your tent, which still smells faintly of the alcohol from the meeting, but is thankfully clean of passed-out Storm-riders.  There's a pallet, some blankets, and a pitcher of water sitting out for you.

[Dracos]

Dracos takes a slight drink and then gets to rest.  He'll quaff the rest in the morrow.

Dracos

[Brian]

Mmm.  Water.  So ... watery.

You lie down in your pallet and fall asleep almost instantly.

[Brian]

<Brian> Dracos.  As you drift to sleep in your tent, you get the odd sensation that there's a cord connecting you with your real-self, back on Earth.  The real Earth ... the one you last saw from beneath Gibraltar.
<Brian> This sensation is kind of odd, and then you feel a tugging on that cord, and go spiraling through the ether, coming to your senses in an easy chair.  The room is brightly colored, but takes a moment to come into focus in your eyes.
<Brian>   There's thick brown shag carpeting, a window that has light coming in through it (and it feels like sunlight, but looks like an indistinguishable wall of yellow).  Before you and to the left is a battered but well cleaned wooden pedestal supporting an aged T.V., which is currently off.
<Brian> To the right there is a brick fireplace, with a clock on the mantle -- both the hour and minute hands are missing, and the second hand takes nearly a full minute to actually tick forward.
<Brian> Immediately to one side of you is a small end-table with a tacky late-80's to early 90's table-lamp -- the kind that has glass 'jewels' hanging around the lower edge of the lamp-shade.  It's currently on, but doesn't add much in the way of lighting compared to the window.
Dracos stretches a bit, examining the tv slightly in curiousity and smelling the air.
<Brian> The air smells faintly like air-freshener ... but it's faded, like you're only percieving a fraction of the actual scent.  The television is an old Zenith model -- you can't remember if they were even in business when you left.  The case is square and boxy, with faux wooden paneling over it.  It's got two dials to change the channel, and another for power/volume.
Dracos stands up, glancing over himself as a thought hits him, almost speaking in his casual form before thinking better of it.
<Brian> When you look behind you, there's a painting on the wall -- some flowers.  Kind of red.  The artist isn't familiar, and while decent, the piece doesn't stand out as a masterpiece.  Though, it is an original, and not a reprint.
<Brian> There are no doors out of this room, though.
<Brian> "Welcome," a voice from behind you says.
<Dracos> "Thanks, and greetings.  It appears you have me, by surprise?" Dracos responds turning slowly around to face the voice.
<Brian> When you look, there's a hulking figure who stands at least two meters tall, with long, straight blonde hair.  He's wearing golden armor, but it looks like video game or anime armor -- way too stylistic and 'cool' to ever be functional in reality.  He's also holding onto a huge hammer, with a squared, boxy, stone head that has to way at least 30 kilos.
<Brian> He frowns.  "My apologies," he says.  "I was looking for the one we had spoken with before.  You may call me Bryce.  I am Bryce Ericson, of the Brothers of Morpheus."
<Dracos> "Ah.  Hmm.  Greetings then, Bryce.  A pleasure.  I'm Philip.  So, what can I do for you?"
<Brian> "Alan said that Radagast was in trouble," Bryce says matter-of-factly.  "We can't enter your dream ... and he's busy.  We wanted to find out if he was okay."
<Dracos> Dracos blinked.  "He was last I saw of him.  Unless things have changed while I was asleep, he should still be.  I take it he's one of yours?"
<Brian> "No," Bryce says, shaking his head.  "He is a dream given life.  It's ... complicated."
Dracos nods.
<Dracos> "Such has it been of late."
<Brian> Bryce sighs.  "Sorry, then.  I can put you back in your own dream."  He raises one (empty) hand, and furrows his brows in concentration.
<Brian> *brow
<Dracos> "No, I wasn't complaining.  Thanks, in fact, for the aid you've given.  Radagast has been quite helpful to us."
<Brian> "I'm glad to hear it," he says, lowering his hand, and smiling slightly.  "For what it's worth, there is a limit to how much we can tamper.  It's useless to pretend to be neutral at this point; we side with Alan, and he favors the Order of Symmetry."  Bryce contemplates for a moment, and then nods.  "Would you like to speak to your oracle?"
<Dracos> "Alan?  And...yes, that'd be quite a favor."
<Brian> "Yes.  One moment, then."  He sets his hammer on the mantle of the fireplace (the clock above it makes another tick, about the third since you've come here), and turns on the TV, fiddling with the dials and the rabbit-ear antenna on the back of it until it shows a somewhat staticy image of a girl -- probably about twelve years old -- dabbling her toes in the pond that you remembered Ayame opening for Rez in another dream.
<Brian> She looks up, and blinks.  "Who's there?" she says, looking around to no one in particular.
<Brian> Bryce nods, and steps to one side of the TV, keeping outside of the line of sight between you and the screen.
<Dracos> Dracos eyes the clock swiftly, making a realization before turning his attention to the girl.  "Greetings Relm, it's Dracos or Philip, whatever ye prefer.  A...stroke of luck apparently let me have a few words with you."
<Brian> She blinks, and then her eyes fix on where you guess a camera would be, if there were a camera there.  She nods slowly, smiling.  "You're alive!" she says.  "Good; I couldn't prove otherwise, but I was starting to get worried."
<Dracos> "Yeah, all of us have survived so far, though the 'dream' is a bit of a mess.  Good to see you're safe while we've been gone too."
<Brian> She nods.  "Things are going pretty well -- New Delphi's coming together."
<Brian> "Is there ... is there anything you want to know?  Anything that I can find out for you?" she adds anxiously.
<Dracos> "Hmm...  Anything happen on the news or such with Interpol since we've left?  It seemed like those that helped us out there might be breaking off and keeping an eye open for them..."  Dracos shrugged.  "And..uh..heh."  Dracos rubbed the back of his head.  "I don't know what good it would really do to know much at the moment about the world outside.  Hum.  Oh yeah.  There's Pax.  They're also in here and seem to be being helpful.
<Dracos> "Do you think it's safe to trust them?  Is it likely that they got stuck with having to make sure we defeat the Dreadmarch?"
<Brian> Relm scowls at that.  "It's possible," she says after a moment.  "If the only thing left to do in the world is ... stopping an army?  Then I guess that's what they have to do, to.  Turning on you wouldn't help them, and if you got there first and made it to positions of authority, it might even hurt them."
<Brian> The second hand over the mantle ticks away again.
<Dracos> "Okay...know anything else about other 'dreamers' that got in?  We've been told there are a couple unaligned who are part of the dream at the moment."
<Brian> Relm considers this for a long moment.  The second hand ticks again before she says, "I think ... if anyone did enter, they would be unaligned.  Once the Contest is begun, only contestants can enter the dream.  They must have gone through before the tournament started ... but even then, it takes an awful lot of power to enter a dream unsponsored."
<Dracos> "Could Seventh Cabal have helped them, to leave behind watchers to prevent rivals from going in?"
<Brian> "It's possible," she concedes.  "And they might even be paranoid to do it on top of having Gibraltar locked down."
<Dracos> "Is there any way to detect those people if they are in or drive them out?"
<Brian> "You'd need to be much more familiar with dreams to do that," she says, shaking her head.  "You could kill them if you found them, maybe, but ... you'd need someone to help you find them."
<Brian> "And, anyway, they could just be seers or magi out to satisfy their own curiosity, completely unrelated to the Contest."
<Brian> Bryce rolls his eyes at this.
<Dracos> Dracos frowns.  "Right...  Anyhow, we'll keep our eyes pealed.  Keep safe on your end.  Any questions of yours I can answer?"
<Brian> "Is everyone okay over there?" she asks.
<Dracos> "We're all alive and well, so as 'okay' as we can be with a large enemy army nearby."
<Brian> She nods.
<Brian> "Well, hurry back," she says.  "We're worried about you -- I have to go.  The New Dephites need my attention.  Will you be able to meet me again?"
<Brian> Bryce raises an eyebrow, then nods.
<Dracos> "Yes.  Goodluck, Relm."
<Brian> She smiles at you and waves, before the screen shuts itself off.
<Dracos> Dracos turns slightly towards Bryce.  "Thanks, Bryce.  I appreciate it."
<Brian> "It's what I do," he says, faintly bemused.  "Tell Durant we said hello."
<Dracos> "Sure thing."
<Brian> "I think it's about time for you to wake up, though," he adds, frowning.  Waving a hand in front of your face, Jedi-mind-trick-style, he says, "You will wake refreshed, and retain the memory of this dream."
<Brian> And you almost do.  But you know that you're still in a dream, even though you feel like you're closer to your current body.
<Brian> You're standing in a clearing, surrounded by thick fog, snow-laden pine-trees, and glowing eyes in the darkness.
<Brian> This time, your dream-body is the one you're starting to get used to -- that of a Storm-rider king.
Dracos breathes in calmly, trying to shake off any disorientation at the swift changes, listening and looking near where the eyes are, ready to move if need be.
<Brian> There's hundreds of them, surrounding you on every side.
<Brian> A whisper wends its way through your mind, like a thousand voices, all united in the same thought, and only sending it as softly as possible.  "Did you see him?  Is our friend near you?"
<Dracos> "friend?  Who is your friend?"  Dracos raised a hand to his temples.
<Brian> "He came ... many ... many moons ago," the whisper sounds.  "He left us a way to call him back.  We call him a friend.  We want to see him again.  Do you know him?"
<Dracos> Dracos tested something, first responding mentally using his animal telepathy.  ~I think so, but am unsure.  What did he call himself?~
<Brian> The eyes shift about, as though looking at one-another for a long moment.  "He called himself our friend."
<Dracos> ~How did you call me?  Did I look like your friend?~  Dracos stands calmly, as unthreateningly as a towering barbarian surrounded by hundreds of unknown creatures can manage.
<Brian> The unified thought breaks momentarily into thousands of separating thoughts, like a diverging stream that somehow manages to recombine after a few moments.  "You are like our friend.  You leave and return like our friend.  But you are not him."
<Dracos> ~I would guess...that I am the one charged to complete what your friend left to be done, to stand for him.  I would guess I be surrounded by friends, but that I do not know or understand how or why.~
<Brian> "You are from our friends world!" the voices whisper excitedly.
<Brian> *friend's
<Brian> "Why do you come here?"
<Dracos> ~To this world?  To protect my friends.~
<Brian> The eyes blink in the darkness.
<Dracos> ~To here specifically?  I do not know.  Did you not call me?~
<Brian> "We brought you here.  We called you, because we thought you were our friend.  We will help you.  We will help you for our friend.  Call on us when you require our aid ... twice will we aid you.  Once, we will call our friend, as he allowed us to do.  Once, we will fight beside you.  This is good.  May your hunting be good."
<Brian> And then you wake up.
<Brian> You don't know how much time has passed, but you feel pretty energized.

[Dracos]

Dracos stretches a bit as he gets up, walking outside and eying the sky above.

Dracos

[Brian]

The moon is down, so everything is dark.  Most of the people in the tents around you are sleeping, but there's light coming from the keep.  Probably people in there are still awake.

[Dracos]

Dracos glances around to see if he spots any of his commanders tents and signs of wakefulness from that quarter.  If they all look still asleep, he takes a moment to head over to the keep and see what's going on over there.

Dracos

[Brian]

Your storm-rider army is sawing a forest full of logs; none of your commanders sound fit to wake.  It takes you very little time to reach the keep.  Going through the back door again, you pass by the forge, where Durant has his lute slung across his back, and is speaking with Ekim.

[Dracos]

Dracos takes a moment and waves.  "Morning, friends."

Dracos

[Brian]

Durant breaks off his story, which is apparently about a traveler in a wasteland somewhere hot, and turns around.  "Oh, hey.  What's up?"

Ekim nods to you as well.  He seems to be amused with Durant's story.