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August 993 Decion

And with the ides of the fourth month the nightmares came. Hideous creatures pouring forth through an inter-dimensional gate, wreaking havoc where they trod. And I was panicked.
Each night I awoke in a cold sweat. And each night I tried to unravel the mysteries of my dreams. I sent word to my twin, Ryan (the Nameless One), who was at last year's Orc-Goblyn War, but he had departed for Ilryl. I searched deeply within myself, but found nothing. Finally, I sought out the half-orc, who was wrapping up business in the Misty Hills. He could offer no ransom, but instead offered insight. "Let go of yourself, Decion," he said. "The forces you follow may be trying to lead you."
That is what I did.
I traveled back to the grove. There I searched the old archives for the enchantment that I needed. I wove the powerful web of the spell Wind Walk. And I let the power fill me, and I let the wind sweep me away. Only this time, I did not choose the destination. I only concentrated on the dreams.
I touched down in a hot land, with an extensive population. Yet I felt uneasy, and I knew that I had not completed the journey. On the contrary, the spell had expired. Knowing that I could only cast that spell from a spell-book which was not over two thousand miles away, I set out on foot. But parched throat and fire ants quickly set me to the task of buying a horse.
Armed with talismans for warding off the evil, and a sword drawn in eager abandon, I arrived to...nothing. The feeling of dread had passed. All felt to be neutral and true in the deep southern land.
Oh, I did what any stranger of the land would do. I visited landmarks of battles fought, and walked along the river, noting various merchants hawking their wares. I even got the audience of the Grand Druid of that land. But I never got to visit the Faire in Waxahachie. And, I never knew an explanation to my dreams.
That is, until now. Congratulations, Jasda Greymist. If the forces you opposed were anything like what my dreams foretold, then your name will be on the lips of a thousand bards. And a special thanks goes to those southern "round-ears". Perhaps the extreme south shall one day meet the north, and on that day, I will thank you in person.
- Decion
P.S. Yep, I was there, but not for the event. Sorry I didn't contact you, Speed.
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 08-15-20 09:32 PM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 08-15-20 09:32 PM