By the time you get up, the leather-clad elf has disappeared from sight into the trees. You cannot see him, even as you approach the tree line. While the light of the moon cresting over the horizon makes vision along the grass plain somewhat easier, the area beyond the first thick wall of trees and brush is still quite dark and foreboding. Heading in alone would likely be an even worse idea for you than it could possibly be for him.

Taylen

As you watch and converse, he gathers the small white objects into the cloth pouch. The lizardman makes no attempt to approach, and in fact does not even turn to face you. His deep, rasped voice creates the impression of someone talking into a barrel, a most diffinitively male voice. What is truly surprising, though, is its grasp of common. While you have not spoken to very many of his kind, all whom you have met have spoken with a thick hiss.

Drakkenmaw

It seems that the leather-clad elf does not intend to attack you. His approach and stance are casual, though he keeps his distance, and he seems to have an interest in conversation. Approaching him might still be unwise, injured as you are, but you may be able to coerce him into a more in-depth conversation if you made a show of good faith. Perhaps if you sat down, he might find it more comfortable to do the same.

As you walk back to the beast where your pack is strapped, you step over the neatly stripped skeleton of a lizardman. All the meat from the beast is lumped in a pile on the supply cart. However, only after you have returned to the beast where your belongings are held in check, fumble around in your backpack, and pull out your last day's rations does the full impact of that sight hit home.

Here you are, about to eat the last of your supplies, when there is a pile of meat cooked to varying degrees, and a perfectly good campfire to work with. And as for a cooking spit, well, there's always your rapier. And, if that wasn't enough, it seems likely that the leather-clad elf has managed to carve a creature of that size while you were asleep. If he could do that, perhaps he could help you with your little... supply problem.

A small, cheerful giggle escapes the lips of the little girl on the far side of camp. Beyond that, there is no motion from the others still in the camp with you.

Falaanla

You're back home, amidst the summer festival. You dance with your mother and father among the eaves of a great oak, in the middle of a large field. All around you, it is raining golden acorns. Gilikor is leaning against the tree trunk, quite inebriated, and laughing hysterically.

Silvan pondered all while kneeling before his pack. He simply could NOT take the smell or view of the lizard with his pack any longer. Though logically he doubted he could take the pack loose by force and still be able to use it, he used his time waiting for the other elf attempting to slide the pack straps off of the lizard's arms and down his arms, raising his arms when needed, to try to get the pack free of the heavy, scaled, creature.

[ 02-12-2002: Message edited by: Reyolen ]

ooc:
That, sir, is a good idea It will take some time, which leaves Taylen and Drakkenmaw free to chat.

The process of slowly shifting, pulling, and tugging to loosen your pack from the dead creature's shoulders proves very tedious. However, as nothing else is happening in the camp, the time needed for the task does not prove to be a significant issue. Eventually, however, the shoulder straps begin to ease, as you work the bag down from the creature's bulky shoulders and forearms to the more flexible lower arms and wrists.

He looked slowly up at the elf, before speaking once more.

"Are all my race here deserving of the reception given me?"

"I was also curious. No reasons make themselves clear to me as to why this area is as it appears."

ooc:
Something I'd like to mention. For those who are interested, dreams are not fixed things. You can move around in them, and interact with them, just as you would in a real-life dream. It is your choice whether or not to do so. Anything you do in a dream will not have a significant impact on the waking world. When your character wakes up, the dream ends, regardless of your progress.

While you do not have full control over what happens in your dreams, you do have more liberty than you do in the waking world. With a few exceptions, you can decide freely if your in-dream actions succeed or fail. And yes, some dreams will be more or less coherent than others.

The guy who was supposed to be on watch was never formally selected, nor was he informed of his duties as such. However, all members of the odd group you camped with were present and accounted for when you awoke.

Willias

There is a tingling sensation under your bare feet. What remains of your clothing is tattered and torn, though your friend doesn't seem to mind. Across a small, intricately crafted table from you is a yellow dragon, no more than fourteen feet tall. The two of you are playing poker, and you hold three 7s. The current bet is 12gp to your 8gp.

ooc:
Anything done in the dream world for now will be colored a light green, while anything the sleeping Saeerrira does will be normal white. Just an fyi

As the hours pass, Saeessira contiues talking, telling various stories about this and that...having a wonderful time

Saeessira, in her sleep, is smiling widely, seemingly having the time of her life

[pretendgreen] Frey purrs abit and opens her eyes, seeing the bear next to her, and licking her face. She stretched out with a bit of a catyowl before reaching up to pet her new found friend.

"Werrrre did you come frrrom?" She asked, sleepaly, as she ran her fingers through it's soft thick fur. [/pretendgreen]

Aust puts three seven cards from his hand down on the table in front of him, and smiles up at the yellow dragon. "And what cards shall you play?"

[ 02-15-2002: Message edited by: Willias ]

ooc:
[color=green]Your text here.[/color]

Your father smiles and listens as you tell him about the people you met. He does not tell you why he was gone, but ruffles your hair and chuckles as you dart off to speak with Gilikor.

Everyone around is pleasant. There are a good lot of people about, not only of your own kind, but of fellis and elvenkind as well. Everyone is in high spirits, and your tales draw much attention. The air is filled with very whimsical and cheerful music.

Aanile

The bear yawns and stretches, dropping a large furry arm over you. It smacks its lips a few times, then says in a goofy voice, "Are you aunty lisa?"

Willias

"Ha!" the dragon exclaims. "Is that all you have? No wonder you didn't see my bet. You're coming along very well as a gamber, though you still have a lot to learn. Next time, if you plan to fold your hand, don't show anyone your cards. That way you can slip the high card into your palm for the next hand." Turning over his large scaled hand, the dragon reveals that he had close to half the deck in his palm. "Remember, the trick to games of chance is to change the odds."

"I have no goal. As all animals, I seek to survive and grow. No less, no more."

IC - The lizardman thinks silently for a moment, before speaking. His body seems to shrink as his voice flows, and his manner grows humbler as his voice grows more sullen. "I was a former member of the Order, whose teachings I still follow. I cannot bring myself to the ideal of nature, however."

He looks sadly at the ground for a moment.

"By the proper teachings of Obad-Hai, I should have been the predator."

Dad, why were you gone for so long? And why...is there such a party going on? I have never seen one like it!

"You're a funny little fellow," the dragon lets out with a deep, echoing laugh. "Alright then. I take the last hand, so you deal this hand, and I'll open the wager."

Falaanla

Your father chuckles, but his face grows sad. "There is much that goes on beyond our little part of the wood," he says softly, "and the sights you've seen are only a bud on a great branch. You have a gift, my dear Saeessira. Use it well."

With that, your father takes you in his arms. You are a little girl again, no more than foot-high and one. "Such big questions for such a tiny girl. Come, we must enjoy the good times!" Before you know it, you are dancing again. Your mother is perched on the shoulder of an elven woman, admiring the tall one's earring.

Mom...do you know what dad was talking about when he said that there is much that goes on beyond our part of the wood? Is that why he was away for so long?

[ 02-18-2002: Message edited by: Falaanla Marr ]

The ground is running out of teeth, and your legs are not pleased with the long waking hours. The exceedingly painful blow to your back earlier on isn't helping matters either.

Aanile

"Aunty Lisa aunty Lisa!" the bear chants, though its voice is suddenly that of someone very young and childish. The bear rolls towards you... and over you... and under you, as it pulls you over with it... and keeps on rolling. It's hard to tell if the large creature wants to wrestle, or if it is just hugging very enthusiastically.

Falaanla

"Isn't this earring lovely?" your mother asks. The earring, when you see it closely, does not appear to be an earring at all. It looks like a lovely white pearl, that seems to float unhinged beneath the half-elf's earlobe. A pair of matching white stones float in soundless circles over her head, also without support of steel or strand.

There is silence for a long time as he gazes into the darkness.

"Still too close," he whispers at last. "Still too near."

ooc:
Fal, please ignore the reference to a "half-elf". She is the high elf whose earring your mother was admiring.

After all of your efforts, and one final heave, you finally manage to pull the bag free... and land prone on your back with your backpack on top of you. Fortunately, you managed to avoid hitting your head on anything.

Falaanla

The elven woman smiles, and answers your question. "It's magic," she responds in a soft, half-whispering voice, "my gift, and yours..."

Her last word echoes in your mind, as you slip away from the dream world, and find yourself awake in the strangers' camp. Ithar is nestled in the grass beside you. You have managed to worm your way out of your sleeping bag... possibly from all the dancing and flying around.

Drakkenmaw

The leather-clad elf has ceased his questions for the moment. He appears to be pondering something. Perhaps he has decided to trust you, or perhaps not to. Either way, you have run out of teeth to collect, and the night is drawing very late. The moon is half high among the stars, and it is likely the sun will rise before too long.