{{RTOC}}
This is a page for visions that clerics spontaneously experience as well as altar visions.

Clerical visions are visual manifestations that are transitory in nature, revealing some aspect of Divine Knowledge. These are being called commonly as visions, though they are distinct from those experienced by the Moon Mages via their ties to the Plane of Probability, in that they are being foisted solely upon the Faithful of the Thirteen.

==2018==
{{visions|date=09/24/2018|vision=You see a pale-faced woman holding a sword in her hand and watching from a hill as a city is buried beneath volcanic lava and ash.|sub=Ushnish?, Dirge?, Knife clan?, Sicle Grove?, Greater Fist?, Lesser Fist?|rep=unknown}}

{{visions|date=09/24/2018|vision=You see a grayed skull, its jaw open. It seems to speak, saying:

"I am neither Man nor Woman, Child nor Elder can I ever be.
All Life must bow before My power,
Even you will come to Me.
In My hands your soul shall rest,
Fluttering like the bird that is caged.
Till into My embrace you do succumb
And in Death, eternally assuaged."|sub=?|rep=unknown}}

==2017==

{{visions|date=10/08/2017|vision=Your throat seizes up a bit as if water was caught in it, and you feel as if you're slowly drowning. Your vision goes hazy and black spots swim before your eyes. Just as you feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness, you suddenly find yourself snapping back to reality, and the large eyes of a dolphin stare at you before the phantom creature swims away into nothingness.|sub=Eluned|rep=false}}

{{visions|date=06/24/2017|vision=Thoughts of winter cloud your mind, as a cold chill swirls about you, freezing you to your very soul. Tiny stinging sensations bite against your face, like bitter snowflakes, though there's nothing present to cause the feeling.|sub=Asketi|rep=?}}

==2016==

{{visions|date=12/08/2016|vision=A soft hissing catches your attention, the sound of scale shifting upon scale. The cold ache in your chest settles deep into your core. The hissing resolves to the sound of a voice that whispers, "And still, they sit." The voice fades, leaving a lingering sense of disappointment.|sub=Asketi|rep=false}}

{{visions|date=12/05/2016|vision=A pain in your head and a chill in your heart precedes the sound of a gruff voice murmuring something in Haakish. As hissing fills your ears, then recedes, the words become easier to understand. "Yes, of course the offering will be suitable. Isn't it always?"

A swift thud is followed by a gasp, and cold blue eyes glare into yours, blazing with anger and fear. A low-pitched voice replies, "It had best be, [[Vecuto]]." The world returns around you, but there's a sense of unease worrying at your spirit. "}}

{{visions|date=10/18/2016|vision=Darkness suddenly overtakes your vision! As it begins to dissolve, you are assaulted with various images of half-seen monsters attacking innocents! Just as you begin to make out details of the attackers, your Holy sight vanishes, and you are left with the feeling that the most important pieces were left unrevealed.

Wracked with pain, you double over and begin to vomit, only nothing seems to be coming forth. The violent contractions continue until half-digested clumps of garbage are expelled from your open mouth! The lumps of rotting refuse rapidly decompose, leaving nothing but a smudge behind where they had landed.}}

{{visions|date=10/18/2016|vision=Utter blackness, as if the sun itself had been blotted out suddenly overtakes your vision! As it begins to dissolve, you are assaulted with various images of half-seen monsters attacking innocents! Just as you begin to make out details of the attackers, your Holy sight vanishes, and you are left with the feeling that the most important pieces were left unrevealed.

Wracked with pain, you double over and begin to vomit, only nothing seems to be coming forth. The violent contractions continue until a shrike is expelled from your open mouth! The bird flies away into the distance, disappearing with surprising alacrity..}}

==2012==

{{Visions|date=07/28/2012|vision=You feel a shiver run up your spine, as the colors in your vision bleed away. A mocking voice echoes in your head, "One heralds the sun, its light and what hope. One heralds the rain, wash clean and renew. One heralds the life, for the promise and beauty. One heralds the truth, in all justice and glory." The voice trails off with guttural laughter and continues, "The life you live is not for such, nor is it to enjoy save for scraping and mewling at the hand that gives affection. To think you could discern the light devoid of darkness, the clean without the despoiled, a life lived in earnest freed from mortality, or the flimsy whim of truth uncontested by dissent. What perils you ignore when you bask in such bliss! And whose name will you scream out with your last breath to end it all?" |sub= |rep= False}}

{{Visions|date=01/24/2012|vision=Your vision goes momentarily black, when it returns a horrid sight is all around you. A pillar of silvery-white holy fire descends from the sky, wreathing the mail-clad warrior before you in a halo of flames. Around you both lie scattered the broken tools of war, ruined and lifeless bodies, and scorched earth. The form before you stands to his full height, the noble bearing of his posture apparent as he raises his spear to thrust downward at you. 
As he advances with your demise in mind, he shouts at you with a odd, dual-voice almost as if another is speaking for him but both can be heard. "You are an abomination! I cast thee into oblivion!" Looking into his face a final time, you see a ghostly image with hair of flame superimposed over the wounded frame of a young man. Though you stare into a face chiseled with classic Sorvendig features, they are sharpened with Elven grace, but the vengeance burning in those eyes can only be that of Everild's. 
Raising his flaming spear high overhead, he stabs downward with an unearthly roar. You scream with a chorus of demonic voices as the spear shears through your rotting rib-cage, tendrils of darkness and silver flame writhe around you and your foe as you collapse to your knees. With a gasp and a shudder, your vision snaps back to the mundane world around you, your pulse racing as you try to grasp the events that unfolded within your mind. |sub= |rep= False}}

{{Visions|date=01/23/2012 |vision=A shimmer, like heat rising off the desert distorts the air, warping your vision into a spiral that momentarily makes you dizzy. Color bleeds together as you lose track of time and direction becomes meaningless. The chaos begins to overwhelm you, your mind reels and your stomach churns. At the moment you feel as if it will overcome completely, your vision goes black and your senses tell you that you have started falling. 
When your eyes adjust, you find that you are standing in a richly appointed, but sparsely decorated room with high ceilings. An ornate chair carved from satinwood sits against one wall with a semi-circular study table in front of it, as if the massive oak table intends on defending the chair from the rest of the room. Heavy curtains have been drawn over all the windows, blocking any outside light in favor of the dim glow emanating from a candle sitting on the table among stacks of tomes and scrolls. 
From behind the collected works of lore and wisdom assembled before you, you can hear a beautiful voice humming an Elven children's song, below the table you glimpse a small pair of pale-skinned bare feet, gracefully tapping out the beat upon the hardwood floor. Over the melody you hear a light rapping upon the door, and within the blink of an eye a tall, dark figure wearing white gloves is crouching next to the chair. "Your command mistress?" the figure asks, in a deep voice. 
The dulcet tones of the simple refrain are choked short by a retort hissed in anger. "You know my will, weakling!" A milk-white hand and arm arc out from the chair, striking the figure across the face with an audible slap. "Now go carry out my bidding knave, find the half-breeds, and bring the boy to me!" With an evil giggle, the feminine voice says, "Do whatever you wish with the girl, see that she furthers the great work." 
Bowing deeply, the figure rises from his hands and knees as he says, "Yes lady, it shall be done." The figure turns from the chair and starts for the door as the young voice calls to him in a singsong voice, "And bring me the books about blood I require!" The thin arm reaches out again, gracefully retrieving a hand mirror from the table as the melody begins again. Your eyes lock again upon your surroundings, you begin to sense time's march as reality crashes upon you with a shudder. |sub= |rep= False}}

==2009==

{{Visions|date=10/15/2016|vision=
Dozens of ghostly children emerge from the Void - or are you there yourself? -- and hastily swirl around you with outreached arms. Their mouths are open soundlessly, gushing spiritual waves of warning and import. The apparitions then become bright-winged nightingales that flutter away determinedly. |sub= |rep= True}}

{{Cat|Events}}