Dreams of Darkness Rising - I

Adventure Date: April 16, 2008

Last Updated: November 29, 2008

The dream has come to you every night, haunting your sleep. It seems like forever since you dreamed of anything else.

You are alone, your footsteps walking along a well travelled road, driving you forward.

Looming in the distance, is a crossroads, marked by a tall ancient standing stone, elvish script mark its surface, but you cannot make out the words.

The wind picks up, and you hear whispers calling you, leading you into the forest.

The moonlight dances on a set of ruins, the flame of your torch casting eirie orange shadows all around you.

The whispers tease you, call you. The air is thick with urgency, driving you forward.

There is a hole in the earth, leading to caves deep beneath the earth, spiralling down into the darkness.

The whispers are almost chants now. You peer over the ledge into the chasm below.

The pit below is covered in spider webs, in the center is a regal female drow standing silent and still as a statue, her frozen visage, even now, radiates malevance and cruelty, hordes upon hordes of frenzied drow prostrate themselves before her, conducting sacrifices most vile.

Then from all the caverns and tunnels surrounding the gathering, they hear her voice, whispering to them from the darkness, echoeing everywhere, urging them to follow her, up through the darkness, along twisting paths, ascending to the surface.

You run. You hear the hordes of drow hot on your trail, chasing you, hunting you.

You run towards the light, to the surface.

The moon and the stars are shimmering bright, but as the legions of drow spill out, the darkness spreads, engulfing the terrain, blotting the landscape in inky blackness.

You race back to the ancient standing stone, the drow hordes swarming all around you.

The moon falls to the earth, and is swallowed up by the dark, its light gone. Slowly the stars begin to be extinguished one by one, until only one flicker of flaming light remains, a faint beacon fading fast as it falls from the sky. You are alone, all around you, the land of Faerun is smothered completely by the rising darkness...

You wake, another night of restless sleep. The nightmare still lingers. You soon learn that there is an ancient elven standing stone in the heart of the Cormanthor forest. The nearest town is called Ashabenford, the capital of Mistledale.

You are alone, your footsteps walking along a well travelled road, driving you forward.

As you arrive closer and closer to Ashabenford and the Standing Stone, the dream begins to fade into darkness....

Disclaimer: Individual dreams may vary. No guarantee that dreams were received by all.
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