Moon Mage vision list 2020: Difference between revisions
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{{MoonMageVisions|2020}} |
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This list includes visions from the [[Moon mage]] [[Prediction#Other prediction types|event prediction]] ability experienced in 2020. |
This list includes visions from the [[Moon mage]] [[Prediction#Other prediction types|event prediction]] ability experienced in 2020. |
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==2020== |
==2020== |
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{{Visions|date=12/18/2020|vision= |
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Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and you see an enormous chamber, the stone walls flowing like smoke. At the center of the room floats a multifaceted geometric form composed of slowly spinning glass and bramble. A pair of massive, golden plate-clad figures stand nearby, staring at the form. As one, they brandish long metal spears and begin to advance on the form. The form pulses, a shockwave shoving the two figures back, and they brace against the deluge of force, but continue their advance. The figures slam their spears into the form, and it begins to flicker madly, stuttering fragments peeling off and dripping to the floor. |
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Suddenly, involuting upon itself as it rearranges, the form hurls a shard into the neck of one of the figures. The man tries to tear his helmet off as he claws at his neck and face but starts to convulse and scream. The other figure swiftly draws a sword and savagely beheads the man, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=12/18/2020|vision= |
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You find yourself atop a mountain cliff, the wind howling. A gaunt alfar warrior stands still and silent, overlooking a distant city twinkling in the sunset. Holding a dented and notched black blade, the warrior stares at the weapon for a long moment before reaching for a whetstone. The warrior drags the stone across the blades edge with a loud rasping ring before stopping and taking a deep and shuddering breath. The sun continues to set, and the warrior does not move. |
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Its face contorting in fury, the warrior throws the blade into the distance, a spinning circle of dark metal that vanishes into the forest. Falling to its knees, the alfar begins to weep, copious tears falling between calloused fingers and dripping along scarred wrists. The blood-red sunlight incarnadines the warrior, and it unties a faded strip of blue cloth tied to its bicep. The vision fades. |
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|sub=Empaths|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=12/18/2020|vision= |
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You see a disfigured scholar with a horrendous triple scar across his brow and cheek, an orange light flickering around his head as he proceeds down a dark corridor. A loud thudding can be heard ahead, and a hulking beast covered in metallic-red scales and steel plate rushes forward, roaring in challenge. The scholar glares at the beast, and several invisible blades strike against its body. Sparks fly as some blows glance off armor, and blue-black blood sprays as others cut deep. The beast continues its onslaught, but the flickering light around the scholars head flashes blindingly into a litany of arcane symbols that swirl around the beast. Flaring with blue flames, the beast screams in pain and collapses into a smoldering ruin of ash. |
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The scholar takes a breath, and continues down the hallway. The vision fades. |
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|sub=Zauldin, Book Burning|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=12/18/2020|vision= |
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The smell of petrichor and pine surrounds you, and you find yourself standing in a forest of enormous trees. Close by, one trunk begins to swirl with color, flowing paint bubbling from beneath the bark and coalescing into the extraordinarily detailed image of a door. As the brass doorknob begins to burnish, the image suddenly snaps into three-dimensional depth, the handle turning and the door swinging open. Warm candlelight spills forth, and a confused-looking man steps through the doorway, scanning around in wonder. The door swings shut and immediately reverts to two dimensions, its paint already flaking and peeling. The man walks into the forest, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=12/18/2020|vision= |
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A busy market unfolds around you, full of shouting merchants and laughing patrons jostling and negotiating. A crowd gathers, hurling accusations at a woman, spilling her basket of groceries, and shoving her to the ground. She pleads for mercy, denying their condemnations, but the crowd does not listen. Despite some bystanders trying to calm the mob, stones and fists fall upon the woman. A loud trumpet interrupts the scene, and the city guard charges forward on horseback. Shoving aside the crowd, they check the woman, bandage her wounds, and arrest several of the instigators. |
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The woman composes herself, gathering the remains of her shopping trip, and with the help of a few kind bystanders, makes her way to the city gates, where she assures them she will be fine and that home is close. As they leave her, her head jerks awkwardly, as if listening to something in the distance, she begins to travel down the trade road. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=11/18/2020|vision= |
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You find yourself in a dark room, a circle of robed figures each crouching before an unlit candle. At the center of the circle, a young child is seated cross-legged, his thin body pale against the cold. The figures begin to chant, and the child stretches taut -- arms wide, palms down -- and bows his head. His body ripples with tension, and the room begins to shake, the floor crackling and splitting. He brings his arms across his body, gripping his wrists, nails digging into his flesh. One by one, each candle flares with brilliance. |
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The boy takes a deep breath. His eyes snap open, revealing pitch black sclera, and arcing his head back, he roars in fury. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=11/18/2020|vision= |
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Two women stand in a wide open field, their sapphire blue linen robes billowing in the whipping winds as a wild storm builds in the distance, crackling ominously. A massive bolt of lightning rends the sky, spooking a herd of horses along the steppe, a cloud of dust billowing in their wake. As the horses approach, the women raise their hands before them, and with a slow exhalation, lower their hands back to their sides. The stampeding horses slow to a gentle walk, calm and docile.<br> |
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One woman looks to the other and remarks, "It could have been that easy for her as well."<br> |
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<br> |
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The other nods, and replies, "She had her reasons. You can't stop your best -- they find their own trouble."<br> |
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<br> |
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The horses walk around the women, unperturbed, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=11/18/2020|vision= |
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A frozen scene stretches before you: an expansive throne room, a shocked and furious assemblage, a furious king with a crown of stars pointing at a woman kneeling before a lute, and a wren caught in mid-flight in the open window. You walk around the room a moment, taking in the details: the king's scarred face and burnt hand, the crowd's robes embroidered with stars and the phases of the moons, andthe lute engraved with swirling galaxies. Slowly, the figures begin to move. The wren chirrups curiously, and the woman clenches her jaw, flinching against the condemnation. Spittle flies from the king's mouth as he punctuates his tirade against the woman, each word bringing him one step closer. Standing before her, the king raises a foot and stomps on the lute, shattering it in a ruin of splinters and jangling strings. The wren flits away, and the woman slowly looks up, her eyes cold, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=11/18/2020|vision= |
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Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and you find yourself walking under a starless sky, flanked by figures wearing golden plate and holding bright torches. Skittering screeching can be heard in the distance as you make steady progress. You find your way to a wide unlit bonfire, and the figures form a circle and begin to chant, low and guttural. As their intonations reach a frightful crescendo, their torches extinguish, plunging everything into darkness. The yowling creatures seem to press closer, louder and emboldened. The chanting drones into a resonant timbre, roaring forth with a squeezed last breath. The creatures begin to howl.<br> |
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<br> |
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The bonfire suddenly erupts, burning downward, sparks raining from the sky in a pillar of spiraling flames, and for a brief moment you see everything -- figures in glaringly bright armor face outward, shield and spear ready, a horde of maw and tooth and claw and talon snarling, reaching -- and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=11/18/2020|vision= |
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A father roams a small home, playfully searching for his child. He opens cabinets and closets and peeks under beds and behind curtains, but he cannot find the hiding child. After some time, the man frowns and walks to the child's room, concern creeping into his voice as he calls out. With a start, he notices the far wall has been painted with a door, and the door is slightly ajar. Tilting his head in curiosity, the man examines the painting, and details seem to take shape before his scrutiny. A brass handle slightly burnishes, the wood grain darkens, and a soft light pours through the doors edges. |
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The man reaches for the painted door and pushes it open, stepping into the light. The door silently closes behind him, and all is still as the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=10/20/2020|vision= |
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Your lungs fill with salt water and your eyes adjust to inky darkness. Gradually, you find you are able to make out pinpricks of dancing blues and greens, and realize you are surrounded by schools of glowing animals, each rippling with pulsating bands of luminescence. Mesmerized, you reach forward to cup a small octopus undulating by, when something bumps your shoulder and swims away in a flurry turbulence, only evident by a gap in the surrounding points of light. As you peer into the waters, you become aware of a softly glowing purple gleam far beneath you, rising closer and closer. Suddenly, the schooling luminescence surrounding you blinks off, leaving you floating in utter darkness, and the purple illumination grows in intensity, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=10/20/2020|vision= |
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You see a man ascending a wide flight of stone stairs, pausing periodically to catch his breath. With a grunt of frustration, the man pushes onward, occasionally taking two or even three steps at a time. Minutes pass, and he begins to slow, taking a seat and hanging his head between his knees to pant. Sweat beads on his forehead, and a single drop rolls down his nose, falling to the dry stone. As the droplet hits the steps, a low rumble vibrates the stairwell, and the stairs lengthen, the riser shrinking. The man turns and smiles, and begins to once again climb the now easier steps, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=10/20/2020|vision= |
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You find yourself on a long rowboat, a dozen soldiers intently peering into the gloom, the riverbank and forest barely visible from the light of flickering torches. The soldiers breathe heavily, clearly terrified. Suddenly, the water explodes into a column of spray and with a startled scream, two of the soldiers disappear into the murky river. The rest of the soldiers alternate between firing crossbow bolts into the water and shouting at the oarsmen to row faster, and in the confusion, another column of water explodes and two more soldiers disappear. Chaos ensues, and a strange black blade wielded by a pale arm slashes from out of the water, hamstringing and gutting the remaining soldiers. Some supplies catch on fire, and the boat begins to burn. |
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Rising from the waters, a gaunt alfar warrior slowly strides into the forest, snapping the blade to dry it, and touching a faded blue strip of cloth tied to its bicep. The vision fades. |
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|sub=Empaths|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=10/20/2020|vision= |
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A man dressed in fine silk robes and expensive jewelry sits cross legged in an elegantly decorated room before a mahogany writing table. Arranging a beautiful gold and platinum pen and ebony inkwell, the man carefully spreads two large sheets of crisp, clean paper and glances out at the open window, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply of the starlight. Pursing his lips, the man reaches into his robes and produces a clear tessera. With the sound of shattering glass, the tessera unfurls, involuted ribbons and nested octagons dancing in expanding and contracting spirals. Taking a deep breath, the man quickly places the tessera atop his head, his eyes going wide, the pupils contracting to pinpricks, and he goes perfectly still. |
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With unnatural grace, the man reaches for the pen, and dips it into the inkwell, gently tapping the rim to shake excess fluid, and begins to write. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=10/20/2020|vision= |
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You see a low walled city perched over a river delta. Two runners sprint forward, a man and a woman, racing ahead. Naked save for flowing wraps, their dirt caked feet kick up a billowing cloud of dust. A shout goes up from the city, and massive wooden gates crank shut, a thick timbered jam dropping into position. The runners do not slow down. |
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When the runners are about three hundred yards from the gate, someone atop the walls shouts "Fire!" and a volley of arrows rise into the sky. The two runners increase their speed, leaping side to side to evade the falling shafts. As they approach the gate both turn slightly and grunt, their shoulders slamming into the barricade, which explodes in a shower of wood splinters. The runners continue through the city, leaping over carts and around surprised children, and arrive at the water's edge, where they continue to sprint across the surface, disappearing around the curve of the bay. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/22/2020|vision= |
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You see the sea, and feel a cold wind whipping spray from the tops of waves. The ocean begins to bubble, warm air rising with the scent of brine and kelp. Far below the surface, numerous brilliant blue lights begin to rise, luminescent orbs wrung around massive structures of shell and coral. The ocean bulges with displaced water, and a billowing cloud gathers. A massive bolt of electricity strikes the ocean, and the waters part, the twisted forms dripping and hissing as they breathe the air. From within the buildings, unblinking eyes peer from membranous windows, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=Merelew|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/22/2020|vision= |
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You feel damp cold, and see a twisted altar. In the center of the room a massive tome is perched on a broad pedestal. Reaching for the book, you hear a hiss behind you, and feel a sharp blade press against your throat. Fetid breath softly whispers in your ear, and you feel brittle nails scrape along your cheek. |
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"Tell me, sssmoothskins. When was the last time you heard from the -- Dragon Emperor?" |
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The knife sinks into your flesh, you feel warm blood splash across your chest, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=Dragon Priests|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/22/2020|vision= |
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You hear a cacophonous din directly ahead. A single oak stands in the center of a clearing, its sprawling branches reaching high to the starlight. The trunk has been heavily shaped and carved into an impressive cityscape, tiny buildings, bridges, walkways and parks wrapped in a column. The rapid fire staccato continues, with the briefest of pauses before resuming. As you walk around the tree, you see a small woodpecker working the wood, carving a glowing smithy, its bright red tufted head blurring back and forth as shavings fall to the ground. The bird sees you and pauses a moment in consideration, glancing to the side, where you see countless trees, each similarly carved. The bird chirrups, and continues to loudly hammer on the project. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/22/2020|vision= |
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Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and you see a tall figure deftly pleating a sheet of crackling energy. Rotating the project, the figure begins to sketch a series of geometric symbols on the sheet, and as each symbol is completed, the sheet bends sharply, ends merging, portions splitting, unfurling and re-knotting. The work continues for some time, and a bizarre form takes shape, a strange contraption with sharp points and sliding, twisting, and interlocking components, pulsating electricity coursing in tight circles around each section. The figure considers the work, scrutinizes its movements, and with a sigh, crushes it in a shower of sparks and discharging energy. After a moment, the figure draws another sheet of crackling energy, and begins to work. The vision fades. |
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|sub=Zengmodaleth|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/22/2020|vision= |
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You find yourself walking down a long corridor, a held torch the only source of illumination. The darkness behind you swirls with malevolence, and as you steadily walk forward you hear cruel whispers, tormenting and teasing, urging you to simply stop and surrender. The torch begins to flicker, and grasping tendrils catch at your ankles. |
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"You are not a Master of Fate and the skies, of light and the mind. You are, and always have been, a simple farmer, dreaming heroic fantasies between ceaseless cycles of planting and harvesting. You are nothing. You will die as you lived -- unknown." |
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You begin to feel the ache of field labor in your bones, your hands calloused from the sickle. You forget the skies, the weight of the moons. You are tired, so tired, and the torch gutters into darkness. |
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"Stop, rest here. Do not continue these lies. You do not have permission." You feel something strong around your neck, and the experience fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/14/2020|vision= |
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A thin woman sits before an easel, an unfinished painting long since dried. Reluctantly, she picks up a brush and palette, mixing a brilliant purple pigment with a hint of gold, but does not touch paint to canvas. With a sigh, the woman puts down her tools and stares at the painting for a long while, but inspiration fails her. After a long while, she begins to weep softly and reaches for a long, sharp knife. Thumbing the blade to test its point, the woman grimaces and gouges out first one, then the other eye. |
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Shuddering in agony, blood pouring down her face, the woman cries and screams but reaches for the brush and begins to paint. As the image begins to take shape, a masterpiece is revealed, with incredible details and evocative colors, rich contrasts and sublime brushwork. When the painting is finished, the woman fumbles the canvas to a drying rack, and places a blank canvas on the easel, and continues to paint. The vision fades. |
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[Note: A variation of this vision appeared in August which referred to a subject of a different gender.] |
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|sub=Prophets of G'nar Peth|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=09/09/2020|vision= |
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Your nostrils fill with dry air and the scent of sesame and pine. You find yourself wandering a wide chamber with plain, smooth stone walls and a single small oil lamp suspended high above, unflickering in the still air. A simple catafalque bears a corpse wrapped in swaths of linen, the trailing ends spread wide, arrayed across the floor. On closer inspection, you realize the strips of cloth are embroidered with fine green and gold lettering, a beautiful script stretching along both sides of the fabric. You begin to read one of the strips, and make out, "Always, she stopped for sunsets and played in the ocean spray. Once a master of the blade, she mastered the art of the lute. Always, she sang to Xibar and chased the sun. Always, her son sought her guidance." |
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[Note: A variation of this vision appeared in August. The note refers to a subject of a different gender.] |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=08/25/2020|vision= |
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A thin man sits before an easel, an unfinished painting long since dried. Reluctantly, he picks up a brush and palette, mixing a brilliant purple pigment with a hint of gold, but does not touch paint to canvas. With a sigh, the man puts down his tools and stares at the painting for a long while, but inspiration fails him. After a long while, he begins to weep softly and reaches for a long, sharp knife. Thumbing the blade to test its point, the man grimaces and gouges out first one, then the other eye. |
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Shuddering in agony, blood pouring down his face, the man cries and screams but reaches for the brush and begins to paint. As the image begins to take shape, a masterpiece is revealed, with incredible details and evocative colors, rich contrasts and sublime brushwork. When the painting is finished, the man fumbles the canvas to a drying rack, and places a blank canvas on the easel, and continues to paint. The vision fades. |
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[Note: A variation of this vision appeared in September. The note refers to a subject of a different gender.] |
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|sub=Prophets of G'nar Peth|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=08/25/2020|vision= |
{{Visions|date=08/25/2020|vision= |
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You find yourself looking at the remains of a burnt room, a blackened chair and still smoking floorboards all that remain apparent amidst a pile of smoldering charcoal. You kneel before the ruins and gently scrape at the wreckage, finding a large tome that crumbles at your touch. Opening the book, the cover falls apart in your hands, and a few pages fall to the floor in fragments of charred paper. You catch the words "They" and "Know" before the text disintegrates. As you exhale, a page billows away in a plume of dust, and more words are revealed for a split second, |
You find yourself looking at the remains of a burnt room, a blackened chair and still smoking floorboards all that remain apparent amidst a pile of smoldering charcoal. You kneel before the ruins and gently scrape at the wreckage, finding a large tome that crumbles at your touch. Opening the book, the cover falls apart in your hands, and a few pages fall to the floor in fragments of charred paper. You catch the words "They" and "Know" before the text disintegrates. As you exhale, a page billows away in a plume of dust, and more words are revealed for a split second, |
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You set down the linen, and the lamp gently flickers into darkness, and the vision fades. |
You set down the linen, and the lamp gently flickers into darkness, and the vision fades. |
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[Note: A variation of this vision appeared in September. The note refers to a subject of a different gender.] |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
|sub=|rep=True}} |
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{{Visions|date=07/25/2020|vision= |
{{Visions|date=07/25/2020|vision= |
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Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and massive bolts of lightning crackle ceaselessly nearby. A tall figure obscured in conflicting light labors at a forge made of silvery-white oravir. The forge glows a lurid green, and the figure reaches in with his bare hands and extracts a bolus of seething energy that sheds droplets and shafts of light. Held between cupped palms, the bolus begins to float and distort, compressing in on itself into a tight disc. The figure deftly curves and twists the form, and with a snap of outflung hands, he suddenly stretches it into a wide sheet. Rotating his arms in a wide circle, the sheet begins to spin, spiraling energy pinwheeling ever faster. The figure rears backwards and punches through the center of the sheet, eliciting a deafening explosion of noise as the sheet flares with brilliance, and the vision fades. |
Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and massive bolts of lightning crackle ceaselessly nearby. A tall figure obscured in conflicting light labors at a forge made of silvery-white oravir. The forge glows a lurid green, and the figure reaches in with his bare hands and extracts a bolus of seething energy that sheds droplets and shafts of light. Held between cupped palms, the bolus begins to float and distort, compressing in on itself into a tight disc. The figure deftly curves and twists the form, and with a snap of outflung hands, he suddenly stretches it into a wide sheet. Rotating his arms in a wide circle, the sheet begins to spin, spiraling energy pinwheeling ever faster. The figure rears backwards and punches through the center of the sheet, eliciting a deafening explosion of noise as the sheet flares with brilliance, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
|sub=Zengmodaleth|rep=True}} |
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Line 70: | Line 233: | ||
The other soldiers form a line, each with hands on the shoulder of the ally before them as they continue forward, heads bowed against the onslaught. Behind them, a gaunt alfar with scarred wrists and a faded blue strip of cloth tied to its bicep rises from the sands, a long black blade held at the ready. The alfar grabs the last soldier in the column, muffling her cries and slitting her throat, and then instantly disappears into the storm. The vision fades. |
The other soldiers form a line, each with hands on the shoulder of the ally before them as they continue forward, heads bowed against the onslaught. Behind them, a gaunt alfar with scarred wrists and a faded blue strip of cloth tied to its bicep rises from the sands, a long black blade held at the ready. The alfar grabs the last soldier in the column, muffling her cries and slitting her throat, and then instantly disappears into the storm. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
|sub=Empaths|rep=True}} |
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Line 91: | Line 254: | ||
Observing a small encampment of soldiers as they clean their shields, spears, and crossbows, the alfar's eyes narrow in contempt. Silently touching a faded blue strip of cloth tied above its bicep, the alfar draws a long black blade and leaps from the tree. The sound of battle continues for some time, the screams pleading for mercy that the alfar callously withholds. After some time, the alfar stands amidst the corpses of the camp, calm and impassive, and the vision fades. |
Observing a small encampment of soldiers as they clean their shields, spears, and crossbows, the alfar's eyes narrow in contempt. Silently touching a faded blue strip of cloth tied above its bicep, the alfar draws a long black blade and leaps from the tree. The sound of battle continues for some time, the screams pleading for mercy that the alfar callously withholds. After some time, the alfar stands amidst the corpses of the camp, calm and impassive, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=True}} |
|sub=Empaths|rep=True}} |
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Line 132: | Line 295: | ||
After a moment of blinking away the sensory overload, you realize you are standing next to a tall figure obscured in the conflicting light of this place, their head held high as they peer into the distance. The figure gives a slight "tut" as they shake their head, and with a series of swift motions, begins weaving sparking runes into the air before them. The vision fades. |
After a moment of blinking away the sensory overload, you realize you are standing next to a tall figure obscured in the conflicting light of this place, their head held high as they peer into the distance. The figure gives a slight "tut" as they shake their head, and with a series of swift motions, begins weaving sparking runes into the air before them. The vision fades. |
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|sub=Warrior Mage|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Warrior Mage, Zengmodaleth|rep=Unknown}} |
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Line 139: | Line 302: | ||
With a screech of tortured metal and the splintering of rock, the alfar lurches forward, racing to a prone figure nearby. Tears streaming from its enormous eyes, the alfar turns over the body of an Elothean woman and gently cradles her in its bloodied arms. Her eyes stare at the sky lifelessly, her face pale above a deep gouge that nearly severs her head from her body. The alfar continues to scream, and the vision fades. |
With a screech of tortured metal and the splintering of rock, the alfar lurches forward, racing to a prone figure nearby. Tears streaming from its enormous eyes, the alfar turns over the body of an Elothean woman and gently cradles her in its bloodied arms. Her eyes stare at the sky lifelessly, her face pale above a deep gouge that nearly severs her head from her body. The alfar continues to scream, and the vision fades. |
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|sub= |
|sub=Empaths|rep=Unknown}} |
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Line 146: | Line 309: | ||
Wincing, he rises to his feet and begins to clean the altar, humming softly to himself. When finished, he looks at his knife a long moment, and shakes his head in disgust. He turns to leave, and you notice a glassy pond outside the chapel, reflecting the sun. The scholar closes the door behind him, and the vision fades. |
Wincing, he rises to his feet and begins to clean the altar, humming softly to himself. When finished, he looks at his knife a long moment, and shakes his head in disgust. He turns to leave, and you notice a glassy pond outside the chapel, reflecting the sun. The scholar closes the door behind him, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=Necromancers|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Zauldin, Necromancers|rep=Unknown}} |
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Line 169: | Line 332: | ||
The woman takes a long breath, and stands. Her wounds knit, and she assumes a rigid pose. A dozen crossbows sing, and her form blurs as she catches a bolt in mid air, dancing away from the rest, the alfar snapping the sword to parry the remainder. Another volley flies, and several bolts bury themselves in the woman's chest and back. The alfar shouts in rage, the woman sinks to her knees, and the vision fades. |
The woman takes a long breath, and stands. Her wounds knit, and she assumes a rigid pose. A dozen crossbows sing, and her form blurs as she catches a bolt in mid air, dancing away from the rest, the alfar snapping the sword to parry the remainder. Another volley flies, and several bolts bury themselves in the woman's chest and back. The alfar shouts in rage, the woman sinks to her knees, and the vision fades. |
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|sub= |
|sub=Empaths|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=04/27/2020|vision= |
{{Visions|date=04/27/2020|vision= |
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You see a disfigured scholar standing before the gates of Riverhaven, looking with his one remaining eye to the east. He raises a blackened, withered fist to the heavens and offers a silent prayer, seeming to grow in strength and resolve. Cupping his palm slightly, an orange light flickers around his head and begins to follow him. A large wasp lands on his shoulder and begins grooming itself. The scholar pauses and allows the insect to crawl onto his palm. He watches the wasp scurrying over his hand and after a moment, slowly crushes it. The wasp offers no resistance and seems to sigh in relief as it dies, and orange light flares with brilliance. The scholar marches into the swamp, and the vision fades. |
You see a disfigured scholar standing before the gates of Riverhaven, looking with his one remaining eye to the east. He raises a blackened, withered fist to the heavens and offers a silent prayer, seeming to grow in strength and resolve. Cupping his palm slightly, an orange light flickers around his head and begins to follow him. A large wasp lands on his shoulder and begins grooming itself. The scholar pauses and allows the insect to crawl onto his palm. He watches the wasp scurrying over his hand and after a moment, slowly crushes it. The wasp offers no resistance and seems to sigh in relief as it dies, and orange light flares with brilliance. The scholar marches into the swamp, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=Redeemed|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Zauldin, Redeemed|rep=Unknown}} |
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The woman blinks a moment, shakes her head slightly, and stands tall again as the vision fades. |
The woman blinks a moment, shakes her head slightly, and stands tall again as the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Empaths|rep=Unknown}} |
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The captain stands with a groan, turns to help his soldiers, and they begin limping back down the steppe. The woman and the alfar warrior watch them go, and after a long while, the alfar begins to snicker as it playfully shoves at the woman. She does not yield, though the corner of her mouth betrays the barest hint of a smile. The vision fades. |
The captain stands with a groan, turns to help his soldiers, and they begin limping back down the steppe. The woman and the alfar warrior watch them go, and after a long while, the alfar begins to snicker as it playfully shoves at the woman. She does not yield, though the corner of her mouth betrays the barest hint of a smile. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Empaths|rep=Unknown}} |
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Her five gleaming yellow eyes narrow and stare directly at you, and she begins to smile. The vision fades. |
Her five gleaming yellow eyes narrow and stare directly at you, and she begins to smile. The vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Sivroch|rep=Unknown}} |
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{{Visions|date=01/23/2020|vision= |
{{Visions|date=01/23/2020|vision= |
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You see a disfigured scholar kneeling before an altar, the chapel dark save for a single torch providing flickering light. The scholar's features are a mess of scars, a triple line raked across his brow and cheek, and a simple linen patch covers one eye. His right hand is locked in a tight fist, gray skinned and streaked with black veins. The scholar prays fervently, prostrating himself before the altar as he beseeches the Immortals for forgiveness. The altar shifts imperceptibly, and the scholar gasps. He draws a simple knife from his belt, and without hesitation, places it on the altar. The pupil of his remaining eye dilates and he looks around in wonder, and the vision fades. |
You see a disfigured scholar kneeling before an altar, the chapel dark save for a single torch providing flickering light. The scholar's features are a mess of scars, a triple line raked across his brow and cheek, and a simple linen patch covers one eye. His right hand is locked in a tight fist, gray skinned and streaked with black veins. The scholar prays fervently, prostrating himself before the altar as he beseeches the Immortals for forgiveness. The altar shifts imperceptibly, and the scholar gasps. He draws a simple knife from his belt, and without hesitation, places it on the altar. The pupil of his remaining eye dilates and he looks around in wonder, and the vision fades. |
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|sub=|rep=Unknown}} |
|sub=Zauldin, Redeemed|rep=Unknown}} |
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Latest revision as of 17:55, 16 August 2023
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This list includes visions from the Moon mage event prediction ability experienced in 2020.
Also included are spontaneous visions experienced without the use of the PREDICT command. These latter visions can be experienced by any moon mage as long as they're logged into the game environment when the vision is distributed. Generally these visions signal incipient invasions or immediate developments in an ongoing event or storyline.
Moon mage visions stem directly from their prophetic link to the Plane of Probability and connection to Fate.
2020
Date and Time: 12/18/2020 | |
Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and you see an enormous chamber, the stone walls flowing like smoke. At the center of the room floats a multifaceted geometric form composed of slowly spinning glass and bramble. A pair of massive, golden plate-clad figures stand nearby, staring at the form. As one, they brandish long metal spears and begin to advance on the form. The form pulses, a shockwave shoving the two figures back, and they brace against the deluge of force, but continue their advance. The figures slam their spears into the form, and it begins to flicker madly, stuttering fragments peeling off and dripping to the floor.
Suddenly, involuting upon itself as it rearranges, the form hurls a shard into the neck of one of the figures. The man tries to tear his helmet off as he claws at his neck and face but starts to convulse and scream. The other figure swiftly draws a sword and savagely beheads the man, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 12/18/2020 | |
You find yourself atop a mountain cliff, the wind howling. A gaunt alfar warrior stands still and silent, overlooking a distant city twinkling in the sunset. Holding a dented and notched black blade, the warrior stares at the weapon for a long moment before reaching for a whetstone. The warrior drags the stone across the blades edge with a loud rasping ring before stopping and taking a deep and shuddering breath. The sun continues to set, and the warrior does not move.
Its face contorting in fury, the warrior throws the blade into the distance, a spinning circle of dark metal that vanishes into the forest. Falling to its knees, the alfar begins to weep, copious tears falling between calloused fingers and dripping along scarred wrists. The blood-red sunlight incarnadines the warrior, and it unties a faded strip of blue cloth tied to its bicep. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 12/18/2020 | |
You see a disfigured scholar with a horrendous triple scar across his brow and cheek, an orange light flickering around his head as he proceeds down a dark corridor. A loud thudding can be heard ahead, and a hulking beast covered in metallic-red scales and steel plate rushes forward, roaring in challenge. The scholar glares at the beast, and several invisible blades strike against its body. Sparks fly as some blows glance off armor, and blue-black blood sprays as others cut deep. The beast continues its onslaught, but the flickering light around the scholars head flashes blindingly into a litany of arcane symbols that swirl around the beast. Flaring with blue flames, the beast screams in pain and collapses into a smoldering ruin of ash.
The scholar takes a breath, and continues down the hallway. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Zauldin, Book Burning | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 12/18/2020 | |
The smell of petrichor and pine surrounds you, and you find yourself standing in a forest of enormous trees. Close by, one trunk begins to swirl with color, flowing paint bubbling from beneath the bark and coalescing into the extraordinarily detailed image of a door. As the brass doorknob begins to burnish, the image suddenly snaps into three-dimensional depth, the handle turning and the door swinging open. Warm candlelight spills forth, and a confused-looking man steps through the doorway, scanning around in wonder. The door swings shut and immediately reverts to two dimensions, its paint already flaking and peeling. The man walks into the forest, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 12/18/2020 | |
A busy market unfolds around you, full of shouting merchants and laughing patrons jostling and negotiating. A crowd gathers, hurling accusations at a woman, spilling her basket of groceries, and shoving her to the ground. She pleads for mercy, denying their condemnations, but the crowd does not listen. Despite some bystanders trying to calm the mob, stones and fists fall upon the woman. A loud trumpet interrupts the scene, and the city guard charges forward on horseback. Shoving aside the crowd, they check the woman, bandage her wounds, and arrest several of the instigators.
The woman composes herself, gathering the remains of her shopping trip, and with the help of a few kind bystanders, makes her way to the city gates, where she assures them she will be fine and that home is close. As they leave her, her head jerks awkwardly, as if listening to something in the distance, she begins to travel down the trade road. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 11/18/2020 | |
You find yourself in a dark room, a circle of robed figures each crouching before an unlit candle. At the center of the circle, a young child is seated cross-legged, his thin body pale against the cold. The figures begin to chant, and the child stretches taut -- arms wide, palms down -- and bows his head. His body ripples with tension, and the room begins to shake, the floor crackling and splitting. He brings his arms across his body, gripping his wrists, nails digging into his flesh. One by one, each candle flares with brilliance.
The boy takes a deep breath. His eyes snap open, revealing pitch black sclera, and arcing his head back, he roars in fury. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 11/18/2020 | |
Two women stand in a wide open field, their sapphire blue linen robes billowing in the whipping winds as a wild storm builds in the distance, crackling ominously. A massive bolt of lightning rends the sky, spooking a herd of horses along the steppe, a cloud of dust billowing in their wake. As the horses approach, the women raise their hands before them, and with a slow exhalation, lower their hands back to their sides. The stampeding horses slow to a gentle walk, calm and docile. One woman looks to the other and remarks, "It could have been that easy for her as well." | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 11/18/2020 | |
A frozen scene stretches before you: an expansive throne room, a shocked and furious assemblage, a furious king with a crown of stars pointing at a woman kneeling before a lute, and a wren caught in mid-flight in the open window. You walk around the room a moment, taking in the details: the king's scarred face and burnt hand, the crowd's robes embroidered with stars and the phases of the moons, andthe lute engraved with swirling galaxies. Slowly, the figures begin to move. The wren chirrups curiously, and the woman clenches her jaw, flinching against the condemnation. Spittle flies from the king's mouth as he punctuates his tirade against the woman, each word bringing him one step closer. Standing before her, the king raises a foot and stomps on the lute, shattering it in a ruin of splinters and jangling strings. The wren flits away, and the woman slowly looks up, her eyes cold, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 11/18/2020 | |
Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and you find yourself walking under a starless sky, flanked by figures wearing golden plate and holding bright torches. Skittering screeching can be heard in the distance as you make steady progress. You find your way to a wide unlit bonfire, and the figures form a circle and begin to chant, low and guttural. As their intonations reach a frightful crescendo, their torches extinguish, plunging everything into darkness. The yowling creatures seem to press closer, louder and emboldened. The chanting drones into a resonant timbre, roaring forth with a squeezed last breath. The creatures begin to howl.
| |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 11/18/2020 | |
A father roams a small home, playfully searching for his child. He opens cabinets and closets and peeks under beds and behind curtains, but he cannot find the hiding child. After some time, the man frowns and walks to the child's room, concern creeping into his voice as he calls out. With a start, he notices the far wall has been painted with a door, and the door is slightly ajar. Tilting his head in curiosity, the man examines the painting, and details seem to take shape before his scrutiny. A brass handle slightly burnishes, the wood grain darkens, and a soft light pours through the doors edges.
The man reaches for the painted door and pushes it open, stepping into the light. The door silently closes behind him, and all is still as the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 10/20/2020 | |
Your lungs fill with salt water and your eyes adjust to inky darkness. Gradually, you find you are able to make out pinpricks of dancing blues and greens, and realize you are surrounded by schools of glowing animals, each rippling with pulsating bands of luminescence. Mesmerized, you reach forward to cup a small octopus undulating by, when something bumps your shoulder and swims away in a flurry turbulence, only evident by a gap in the surrounding points of light. As you peer into the waters, you become aware of a softly glowing purple gleam far beneath you, rising closer and closer. Suddenly, the schooling luminescence surrounding you blinks off, leaving you floating in utter darkness, and the purple illumination grows in intensity, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 10/20/2020 | |
You see a man ascending a wide flight of stone stairs, pausing periodically to catch his breath. With a grunt of frustration, the man pushes onward, occasionally taking two or even three steps at a time. Minutes pass, and he begins to slow, taking a seat and hanging his head between his knees to pant. Sweat beads on his forehead, and a single drop rolls down his nose, falling to the dry stone. As the droplet hits the steps, a low rumble vibrates the stairwell, and the stairs lengthen, the riser shrinking. The man turns and smiles, and begins to once again climb the now easier steps, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 10/20/2020 | |
You find yourself on a long rowboat, a dozen soldiers intently peering into the gloom, the riverbank and forest barely visible from the light of flickering torches. The soldiers breathe heavily, clearly terrified. Suddenly, the water explodes into a column of spray and with a startled scream, two of the soldiers disappear into the murky river. The rest of the soldiers alternate between firing crossbow bolts into the water and shouting at the oarsmen to row faster, and in the confusion, another column of water explodes and two more soldiers disappear. Chaos ensues, and a strange black blade wielded by a pale arm slashes from out of the water, hamstringing and gutting the remaining soldiers. Some supplies catch on fire, and the boat begins to burn.
Rising from the waters, a gaunt alfar warrior slowly strides into the forest, snapping the blade to dry it, and touching a faded blue strip of cloth tied to its bicep. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 10/20/2020 | |
A man dressed in fine silk robes and expensive jewelry sits cross legged in an elegantly decorated room before a mahogany writing table. Arranging a beautiful gold and platinum pen and ebony inkwell, the man carefully spreads two large sheets of crisp, clean paper and glances out at the open window, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply of the starlight. Pursing his lips, the man reaches into his robes and produces a clear tessera. With the sound of shattering glass, the tessera unfurls, involuted ribbons and nested octagons dancing in expanding and contracting spirals. Taking a deep breath, the man quickly places the tessera atop his head, his eyes going wide, the pupils contracting to pinpricks, and he goes perfectly still.
With unnatural grace, the man reaches for the pen, and dips it into the inkwell, gently tapping the rim to shake excess fluid, and begins to write. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 10/20/2020 | |
You see a low walled city perched over a river delta. Two runners sprint forward, a man and a woman, racing ahead. Naked save for flowing wraps, their dirt caked feet kick up a billowing cloud of dust. A shout goes up from the city, and massive wooden gates crank shut, a thick timbered jam dropping into position. The runners do not slow down.
When the runners are about three hundred yards from the gate, someone atop the walls shouts "Fire!" and a volley of arrows rise into the sky. The two runners increase their speed, leaping side to side to evade the falling shafts. As they approach the gate both turn slightly and grunt, their shoulders slamming into the barricade, which explodes in a shower of wood splinters. The runners continue through the city, leaping over carts and around surprised children, and arrive at the water's edge, where they continue to sprint across the surface, disappearing around the curve of the bay. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/22/2020 | |
You see the sea, and feel a cold wind whipping spray from the tops of waves. The ocean begins to bubble, warm air rising with the scent of brine and kelp. Far below the surface, numerous brilliant blue lights begin to rise, luminescent orbs wrung around massive structures of shell and coral. The ocean bulges with displaced water, and a billowing cloud gathers. A massive bolt of electricity strikes the ocean, and the waters part, the twisted forms dripping and hissing as they breathe the air. From within the buildings, unblinking eyes peer from membranous windows, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Merelew | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/22/2020 | |
You feel damp cold, and see a twisted altar. In the center of the room a massive tome is perched on a broad pedestal. Reaching for the book, you hear a hiss behind you, and feel a sharp blade press against your throat. Fetid breath softly whispers in your ear, and you feel brittle nails scrape along your cheek.
"Tell me, sssmoothskins. When was the last time you heard from the -- Dragon Emperor?" The knife sinks into your flesh, you feel warm blood splash across your chest, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Dragon Priests | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/22/2020 | |
You hear a cacophonous din directly ahead. A single oak stands in the center of a clearing, its sprawling branches reaching high to the starlight. The trunk has been heavily shaped and carved into an impressive cityscape, tiny buildings, bridges, walkways and parks wrapped in a column. The rapid fire staccato continues, with the briefest of pauses before resuming. As you walk around the tree, you see a small woodpecker working the wood, carving a glowing smithy, its bright red tufted head blurring back and forth as shavings fall to the ground. The bird sees you and pauses a moment in consideration, glancing to the side, where you see countless trees, each similarly carved. The bird chirrups, and continues to loudly hammer on the project. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/22/2020 | |
Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and you see a tall figure deftly pleating a sheet of crackling energy. Rotating the project, the figure begins to sketch a series of geometric symbols on the sheet, and as each symbol is completed, the sheet bends sharply, ends merging, portions splitting, unfurling and re-knotting. The work continues for some time, and a bizarre form takes shape, a strange contraption with sharp points and sliding, twisting, and interlocking components, pulsating electricity coursing in tight circles around each section. The figure considers the work, scrutinizes its movements, and with a sigh, crushes it in a shower of sparks and discharging energy. After a moment, the figure draws another sheet of crackling energy, and begins to work. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Zengmodaleth | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/22/2020 | |
You find yourself walking down a long corridor, a held torch the only source of illumination. The darkness behind you swirls with malevolence, and as you steadily walk forward you hear cruel whispers, tormenting and teasing, urging you to simply stop and surrender. The torch begins to flicker, and grasping tendrils catch at your ankles.
"You are not a Master of Fate and the skies, of light and the mind. You are, and always have been, a simple farmer, dreaming heroic fantasies between ceaseless cycles of planting and harvesting. You are nothing. You will die as you lived -- unknown." You begin to feel the ache of field labor in your bones, your hands calloused from the sickle. You forget the skies, the weight of the moons. You are tired, so tired, and the torch gutters into darkness. "Stop, rest here. Do not continue these lies. You do not have permission." You feel something strong around your neck, and the experience fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/14/2020 | |
A thin woman sits before an easel, an unfinished painting long since dried. Reluctantly, she picks up a brush and palette, mixing a brilliant purple pigment with a hint of gold, but does not touch paint to canvas. With a sigh, the woman puts down her tools and stares at the painting for a long while, but inspiration fails her. After a long while, she begins to weep softly and reaches for a long, sharp knife. Thumbing the blade to test its point, the woman grimaces and gouges out first one, then the other eye.
Shuddering in agony, blood pouring down her face, the woman cries and screams but reaches for the brush and begins to paint. As the image begins to take shape, a masterpiece is revealed, with incredible details and evocative colors, rich contrasts and sublime brushwork. When the painting is finished, the woman fumbles the canvas to a drying rack, and places a blank canvas on the easel, and continues to paint. The vision fades. [Note: A variation of this vision appeared in August which referred to a subject of a different gender.] | |
Possible Subjects: Prophets of G'nar Peth | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 09/09/2020 | |
Your nostrils fill with dry air and the scent of sesame and pine. You find yourself wandering a wide chamber with plain, smooth stone walls and a single small oil lamp suspended high above, unflickering in the still air. A simple catafalque bears a corpse wrapped in swaths of linen, the trailing ends spread wide, arrayed across the floor. On closer inspection, you realize the strips of cloth are embroidered with fine green and gold lettering, a beautiful script stretching along both sides of the fabric. You begin to read one of the strips, and make out, "Always, she stopped for sunsets and played in the ocean spray. Once a master of the blade, she mastered the art of the lute. Always, she sang to Xibar and chased the sun. Always, her son sought her guidance."
[Note: A variation of this vision appeared in August. The note refers to a subject of a different gender.] | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/25/2020 | |
A thin man sits before an easel, an unfinished painting long since dried. Reluctantly, he picks up a brush and palette, mixing a brilliant purple pigment with a hint of gold, but does not touch paint to canvas. With a sigh, the man puts down his tools and stares at the painting for a long while, but inspiration fails him. After a long while, he begins to weep softly and reaches for a long, sharp knife. Thumbing the blade to test its point, the man grimaces and gouges out first one, then the other eye.
Shuddering in agony, blood pouring down his face, the man cries and screams but reaches for the brush and begins to paint. As the image begins to take shape, a masterpiece is revealed, with incredible details and evocative colors, rich contrasts and sublime brushwork. When the painting is finished, the man fumbles the canvas to a drying rack, and places a blank canvas on the easel, and continues to paint. The vision fades. [Note: A variation of this vision appeared in September. The note refers to a subject of a different gender.] | |
Possible Subjects: Prophets of G'nar Peth | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/25/2020 | |
You find yourself looking at the remains of a burnt room, a blackened chair and still smoking floorboards all that remain apparent amidst a pile of smoldering charcoal. You kneel before the ruins and gently scrape at the wreckage, finding a large tome that crumbles at your touch. Opening the book, the cover falls apart in your hands, and a few pages fall to the floor in fragments of charred paper. You catch the words "They" and "Know" before the text disintegrates. As you exhale, a page billows away in a plume of dust, and more words are revealed for a split second,
They Blinking in confusion, your hands begin to shake and more words fall to the ground, You The tome decays into ash, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/25/2020 | |
You see a small crowd gathered before you, laughing and cheering. At the center of the gathering sits a small child who is hunched over a stack of exquisitely patterned origami paper, and you watch as he tiny hands move with rapid, exacting precision, creating exquisitely detailed animals and oddities in rapid succession. As the child finishes each creation and places it on the ground, they begin to move and play, acting out dramatic sequences, some humorous, some deadly. A lion devours a tornado. A nested pinwheel slices a soldier to tatters, and an apple tree drops tiny fruits for a bounding rams.
The child looks at you with a coy smile and asks, "Any requests?" The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/25/2020 | |
Basking in the warm sun, you find yourself closing your eyes and tilting your head upward. Birds sing, competing with the cacophonous drone of cicadas. You inhale deeply of the summer air, petrichor surrounding you. Suddenly everything goes silent, and opening your eyes, you watch as the ground splits and roils as a tiny sapling thrusts itself into the light and quickly grows into an enormous tree. Thick blossoms unfurl in its foliage, and the air begins to fill with a heady scent. You find yourself getting sleepy and lie against the trunk. As your eyes begin to droop, you see a similar tree in the distance, the base of its trunk littered with skeletons entwined with root and vine. You feel a thin creeper begin to inch across your neck, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/25/2020 | |
Your nostrils fill with dry air and the scent of sesame and pine. You find yourself wandering a wide chamber with plain, smooth stone walls and a single small oil lamp suspended high above, unflickering in the still air. A simple catafalque bears a corpse wrapped in swaths of linen, the trailing ends spread wide, arrayed across the floor. On closer inspection, you realize the strips of cloth are embroidered with fine green and gold lettering, a beautiful script stretching along both sides of the fabric. You begin to read one of the strips, and make out, "Always, he stopped for sunsets and played in the ocean spray. Once a master of the blade, he mastered the art of the lute. Always, he sang to Xibar and chased the sun. Always, his son sought his guidance."
You set down the linen, and the lamp gently flickers into darkness, and the vision fades. [Note: A variation of this vision appeared in September. The note refers to a subject of a different gender.] | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/25/2020 | |
You see an inverted pyramid of cyclopean magnitude looming above a twisted landscape. Lightning streaks through a blackened sky, illuminating the facets in the obsidian structure. A seer in blue robes with cataract-clouded eyes stands before it, arms outstretched as if to embrace the pyramid. In a moment, the lightning converges on it. You feel the pyramid now within your own hands, a tiny polyhedron floating above your flesh. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 08/02/2020 | |
You feel the warm sun and hear the distant call of gulls swallowed by the hiss and churn of the ocean. The scent of salt and kelp wash over you, and you walk down an endless beach, the horizon dotted with ships of the line and clippers, schooners and single mast sloops. As you continue along the gentle curve of the sands, something catches your eye, broken crates and scattered straw pushed into tight lines by the waves, bright glimmers buried in the flotsam and jetsam. You begin to dig, brushing aside the sands, and find a cache of assorted weapons, maces and staves, bows and blades, fresh and as yet unblemished by the ocean. As you begin to take inventory, you cannot help but wonder for where these weapons were bound, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 07/25/2020 | |
You find yourself walking along the ramparts of a large wall, the dark night covering a trackless swampy forest of rot and twisted trees spanning to the south. Periodic torches betray the presence of siege engines, thick timbered ballistae and trebuchets built into the stone, well provisioned with iron-tipped bolts half a dozen span in length and oiled clay boulders. The sounds of wild animals can be heard in the distance until a chorus of hooting and growling is suddenly choked off.
Beyond the marsh to the south, a series of fires flash to light and arc wildly upward, soaring into the sky in brilliant streaks, and screaming as they begin to drop towards you. As they fly, they fragment and pummel the wall around you to little effect. Looking down, you realize the flaming projectiles are the severed heads of woodland beasts, flesh burnt and peeled back around blackened teeth. More fires light in the distance, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 07/25/2020 | |
Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and massive bolts of lightning crackle ceaselessly nearby. A tall figure obscured in conflicting light labors at a forge made of silvery-white oravir. The forge glows a lurid green, and the figure reaches in with his bare hands and extracts a bolus of seething energy that sheds droplets and shafts of light. Held between cupped palms, the bolus begins to float and distort, compressing in on itself into a tight disc. The figure deftly curves and twists the form, and with a snap of outflung hands, he suddenly stretches it into a wide sheet. Rotating his arms in a wide circle, the sheet begins to spin, spiraling energy pinwheeling ever faster. The figure rears backwards and punches through the center of the sheet, eliciting a deafening explosion of noise as the sheet flares with brilliance, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Zengmodaleth | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 07/25/2020 | |
The hot sun blazes above in a muted desert sky, the dry air buzzing with an enveloping sandstorm. Several soldiers clutch scarves to their faces and lean low as they cross between the dunes, communicating via hand signals. One soldier climbs to the ridge and peeks over, gasping in surprise as he is jerked over the edge. His screams are choked short in moments, and with a howl of whipping sand and hissing winds, the storm intensifies.
The other soldiers form a line, each with hands on the shoulder of the ally before them as they continue forward, heads bowed against the onslaught. Behind them, a gaunt alfar with scarred wrists and a faded blue strip of cloth tied to its bicep rises from the sands, a long black blade held at the ready. The alfar grabs the last soldier in the column, muffling her cries and slitting her throat, and then instantly disappears into the storm. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 07/25/2020 | |
Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and you see a massive tower of poured stone, riddled with openings, doorways, perches, and steel cables. A fetid miasma wafts across the area, leaving rot and rust in its wake. Countless gold plate-wearing figures emerge from the tower, peering into the distance as a warning horn reverberates. From the midst of the choking smog, skittering forms with too many limbs undulate forward, and the faint outline of enormous, slow-moving behemoths can be seen steadily advancing in the distance.
The figures slam their swords against massive tower shields in challenge and leap from the tower, bounding downward as they rush into battle. Showing no fear, they swing radiant light and glow with brilliant luminescence as they practice their craft, carving arcs of chitin and hoarfrost. The giant monstrosities resolve as they approach, screaming in splintered wood and bone. The figures charge, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 07/25/2020 | |
A long hallway stretches before you, narrowing to a vanishing point at the horizon. Countless wooden doors adorned with beautiful carvings span endlessly to the distance, a small stand next to each bearing a single lit candle, a notebook, and a key. The smells of lavender and summer rain waft gently around you, though there is no breeze. Nearby, a door opens, and an old woman steps through, dressed in a simple robe and humming softly to herself. She closes the door behind her, but not before you catch a glimpse of what lies beyond the threshold: a swirling nebula and torn space, burning stars, and gas giants glowing with radiant, crackling auroras.
The woman locks the door, writes something in the notebook, and sets the key on the stand. She walks to the next door, checks its notebook, picks up its key, and slots it into the door. She smiles slightly as she turns the key, and as the tumblers slide into position with a soft *click*, the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 07/01/2020 | |
You find yourself enveloped by the scent of rich vegetation and the sound of competing bird calls. A thick jungle stretches around you, sunlight trickling through tiny gaps the dense canopy. A gaunt alfar with scarred wrists and broken wings walks along a stream, wide eyes scanning the area. The alfar spots something and leaps to a nearby tree, scampering up the trunk and silently leaping from branch to branch before crouching low.
Observing a small encampment of soldiers as they clean their shields, spears, and crossbows, the alfar's eyes narrow in contempt. Silently touching a faded blue strip of cloth tied above its bicep, the alfar draws a long black blade and leaps from the tree. The sound of battle continues for some time, the screams pleading for mercy that the alfar callously withholds. After some time, the alfar stands amidst the corpses of the camp, calm and impassive, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 06/25/2020 | |
You blink as a man approaches and smiles. He begins patting his vest, looking for something, and says, "Wait, I know it was... just a moment please", and continues rummaging through his clothing. As he shakes his cloak, you can hear the gentle tinkle of metal, and the man removes various keys, scrutinizing each before putting it into a different pocket and continuing his search.
"Sorry, sorry, I swear I had it a moment ago," he says, "Just, sorry, I know its here somewhere." Crouching down, he pulls off a boot, and hopping awkwardly, upends it, pouring a shocking number of keys onto the ground. The stream continues, until they form a tiny mound and the man replaces the boot, kneels, and begins sorting through the pile. Grabbing one, he excitedly shouts with joy and turns to you, proffering the nondescript key. Suddenly, he frowns and vanishes without a trace, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 06/25/2020 | |
You hear deafening waves, and the briny smell of sea spray fills your nostrils. You find yourself standing on a long dock made of atramentous wood, dark green waters churning and frothing as the winds buffet white caps and scatter misty foam across the walkway. At the end of the dock you see an enormous lighthouse, stretching high into the sky as it casts slowly spinning twin spears of radiant light into the distance. As you walk down the dock, the storm intensifies, and torrents of water stream back and forth across your path. Nearing the lighthouse, you see a thin door, and after a moment of struggling with the secure latch, you shove your way inside.
The sounds of the raging waters and storm muffled through the thick stone walls of the lighthouse, you find yourself surrounded by gloom, panting as you wring saltwater from your clothes. A voice calls out, "I knew you'd make it here sooner or later. We have so much to discuss.", and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 06/25/2020 | |
A region of space before you begins to roil and twist violently, casting bizarre reverse rainbows and delayed reflections in every direction. The anomaly rips open with a loud rumble. Your prophetic senses reel with a confusing panoply of mixed possibility, stretching not merely forward, but also sideways, the plucked web reverberating with a deep and resonant tone that suffuses you with overwhelming nausea. You lose your balance. Your grasp of tomorrow and what is to come mutates, filled with contextless whispers from stars that have seen what never was.
You begin to press your hands into your eyes to block out the maddening visuals, screaming to drown out the babble. Suddenly the anomaly shatters, the fragments evaporating, and the vision fades as you are left panting and unsteady. | |
Possible Subjects: Prediction | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 06/25/2020 | |
A busy market unfolds around you, shouting merchants and laughing patrons jostling and negotiating. Two women examine a bolt of fabric, discussing the weave and color, clearly impressed with the product. One woman smiles at the other, and says "Thank you for your observations. You have a good eye for quality."
The other woman returns the smile, replying "My pleasure. I'm glad I was able to help you decide!" The first woman pays for the cloth and leaves the shop. Her head suddenly jerks awkwardly, as if listening to something in the distance. Carrying the bolt, she leaves the market, passing through the town gate and traveling down the trade road for some time. Arriving at a darkened cave, the woman lays the bolt on a sturdy table and bows respectfully. A figure emerges from the cave holding a strange looking fetish and looks over the cloth a moment before nodding a dismissal to the woman, as the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Risen | Repeat: True |
Date and Time: 05/27/2020 | |
Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and you find yourself standing on a precipice overlooking a roaring ocean of tumultuous energy, written in a symbols and logic that you cannot comprehend. Lightning endlessly crackles nearby, violently lashing the air and raking across the metallic structures jutting around you. You are deafened with the deluge of noise, the charge in the air palpable.
After a moment of blinking away the sensory overload, you realize you are standing next to a tall figure obscured in the conflicting light of this place, their head held high as they peer into the distance. The figure gives a slight "tut" as they shake their head, and with a series of swift motions, begins weaving sparking runes into the air before them. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Warrior Mage, Zengmodaleth | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 05/27/2020 | |
A windswept mountain steppe unfolds around you, the air chill and bone-dry. A muscular alfar is chained to a rock face, bruised and battered, vestigial wings broken and mutilated. Straining against the manacles and screaming obscenities at the sky, the alfar leans forward, and as the irons cut into the creature's wrists, its arms and shoulders ripple as it howls. The piton securing the chain begins to flex. Long cracks begin to stretch outward from where it was hammered into the stone wall, blood flowing across the alfar's fists.
With a screech of tortured metal and the splintering of rock, the alfar lurches forward, racing to a prone figure nearby. Tears streaming from its enormous eyes, the alfar turns over the body of an Elothean woman and gently cradles her in its bloodied arms. Her eyes stare at the sky lifelessly, her face pale above a deep gouge that nearly severs her head from her body. The alfar continues to scream, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 05/27/2020 | |
You find yourself in a softly lit chapel, torches casting dancing shadows along the walls and the muted sounds of birds nesting in the rafters. The door slowly swings open, rusty hinges protesting loudly, and a disfigured scholar strides in, limping slightly, though his held high. He drops a severed cinderbeast head upon the chapel's altar, and with a grimace, falls to his knees and begins to pray. The altar shifts imperceptibly and the offering erupts into blue flames which quickly consume it entirely, though the man does not appear to have received the answer he sought.
Wincing, he rises to his feet and begins to clean the altar, humming softly to himself. When finished, he looks at his knife a long moment, and shakes his head in disgust. He turns to leave, and you notice a glassy pond outside the chapel, reflecting the sun. The scholar closes the door behind him, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Zauldin, Necromancers | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 05/27/2020 | |
You find yourself staring at a barren tree, branches sagging with frost as it sways in the breeze, creaking as it stirs. As you look closer, you notice a multitude of fist-sized crystalline cocoons strung along the branches, each occasionally twitching and shifting slightly. An icy wind howls, and the cocoons begin to chirrup slightly, elongating and straining as something within pushes against the inside. A long split appears on one of the cocoons, and a large moth crawls outward, spreading transparent wings that shimmer with glassy iridescence. The moth fans the wings, stretching its proboscis and limbs, and as the wings take shape, the fluid within begins to freeze and crackle.
The moth turns suddenly, noticing you, and flies forward at breathtaking speed, jagged forelimbs outstretched. You shout in surprise, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 05/27/2020 | |
You feel the strong sun on your face, and smell the salt of the sea overlaid with the scent of rich vegetation and volcanic soil. Wandering amidst the warm streets and brightly colored shops, you stop before a stall selling paper bags filled with candied almonds and dried cherries. A rat cautiously creeps from a sewer grate and makes a dash for some fallen discards. With a tiny *squeek!* of joy, the rat quickly stuffs a few almonds into its mouth as it scampers back to the sewer grate.
You find yourself following the rat as it winds through tunnels and overflow piping, when suddenly, a clawed hand snatches it midleap, and a maw of yellowed, broken fangs tears the rat in half with a quick bite. A lone almond falls to the muck below, and the crunching of bone echoes around the dripping dark. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 05/03/2020 | |
A windswept mountain steppe unfolds around you, the air chill and bone dry. You see a double ring of soldiers -- shield wardens in the middle, crossbowmen on the outside -- their attention focused inward. At the center of the ring kneels a thin Elothean woman with greying hair, bleeding heavily but surrounded by over a dozen unconscious soldiers. An alfar warrior stands next to her brandishing a blade, turning to keep an eye on the encroaching ring, one hand protectively on her shoulder.
"We must flee," the alfar hisses. "The battle is lost." The woman takes a long breath, and stands. Her wounds knit, and she assumes a rigid pose. A dozen crossbows sing, and her form blurs as she catches a bolt in mid air, dancing away from the rest, the alfar snapping the sword to parry the remainder. Another volley flies, and several bolts bury themselves in the woman's chest and back. The alfar shouts in rage, the woman sinks to her knees, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 04/29/2020 | |
Your vision fades, revealing a large crystalline spire. Howling winds accompany the call thousands of whispers, as formless fragments of starlight and shadow coalesce from emptiness, rippling in waves resembling states of consciousness. Spirits assemble, speaking in incoherent tongues, slowly circling the object as it shatters. Cracks reveal myriad shattered futures, rent from their point of origin and twisting outward into a web woven from waxing ethereal threads, branching outward to resemble a tree. Two moons stand full, keeping watch above this newly-grown structure, as the din of whispers turns to silence, awaiting you to water its roots. Slowly, your sight returns to normal. | |
Possible Subjects: Nomads of the Arid Steppe | Repeat: None, global vision |
Date and Time: 04/27/2020 | |
You see yourself in an opulent hall, walls bedecked with ornamentation and splendor. Two voices echo through the cavernous chamber. The first resounds, "I argue that the Negotiants have acquiesced to the boundary lines contract rules and must now be estopped from arguing otherwise. We have upheld the terms of the contract, and now we require more." The second is a detached atonal otherworldly hum, echoing in your mind -- "The terms remain. It would be wise to not endeavor to renegotiate, lest we relinquish our gifts."
Undeterred, the first begins retorting, his voice elevating in frustration and demands, until it descends to match the same droning, lifeless pitch, finishing by muttering about bifurcated polynomial space. The voice falls to silence, accompanied by a lifeless thud echoing throughout the halls, and your vision returns. | |
Possible Subjects: Negotiants | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 04/27/2020 | |
You see a wide open plain, featureless save for a circle of hideously twisted warriors standing shoulder to shoulder. Their carapace armor is cracked and slagged, though their bone shields and monstrously spiked weapons are still held firmly. The land around them is raked with black burns, molten stone bubbling as it rapidly cools. The yawning void in the midst screams in rage, and tentacles made of smoke and claw flail outward, latching onto the warriors backs and pulsating grotesquely. The warriors shiver in delight and seem to grow, their armor mending and sprouting spines, their shields and weapons swirling with malevolent energies. The horizon fills with rising points of brilliant golden light, and the warriors snarl in anticipation. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 04/27/2020 | |
Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and a screaming wind scatters jagged shards of ice across your face. A massive figure in golden plate steps in front of you and raises a tower shield, bracing her shoulder against the onslaught. Icicles and hoarfrost accumulate on the edges of the shield, and she leans forward, grunting with effort. Glancing around, you see hundreds of other figures in golden plate, leaning into tower shields against the winds, many guarding cowering and helpless people.
The wind begins to intensify, and the figure roars in fury, her armored boots gouging deep tracks into the rocky ground. You see other figures blown backwards, those they protected freezing solid and shattering into bloody crystal. The figure slams her shield into the ground and a crackling mess of ice shatters against her bascinet, tearing the helm off. Looking back at you, her smirks despite a broken nose, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 04/27/2020 | |
You see a wide bank along a mighty riverway and watch as a small bat lands on a nearby branch. Hanging from its perch, the bat begins to chitter at you.
"Most unwise, but they were warned," the bat says. "He did all he could do." A large eel uncoils from the river and rears above the water. It seems to appraise the bat for a long moment before sliding back into the waters. Nothing obvious happens for a long moment. Suddenly the entire river erupts with electricity, bolts of green and blue jaggedly ripping across the surface of the waters, writhing along the riverbank, spooling into balls of spindly white lightning that spit violent sparks before bouncing around and dissipating. In the distance, a generous laugh can be heard, and the bat, unharmed, flies away. As the vision begins to fade, dead fish start to float to the surface of the river. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 04/27/2020 | |
You see a disfigured scholar standing before the gates of Riverhaven, looking with his one remaining eye to the east. He raises a blackened, withered fist to the heavens and offers a silent prayer, seeming to grow in strength and resolve. Cupping his palm slightly, an orange light flickers around his head and begins to follow him. A large wasp lands on his shoulder and begins grooming itself. The scholar pauses and allows the insect to crawl onto his palm. He watches the wasp scurrying over his hand and after a moment, slowly crushes it. The wasp offers no resistance and seems to sigh in relief as it dies, and orange light flares with brilliance. The scholar marches into the swamp, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Zauldin, Redeemed | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/30/2020 | |
You are surrounded by darkness, able to make out only a faint dripping and the scent of damp stone. A light bobbles in the distance, and as it approaches, a voice shouts out, "Hey! Over here! This way!". You find yourself being led by strong calloused hands through an array of tunnels. After some time, you enter a large open chamber, and the miner leads you to the far wall. The rock is speckled with softly glowing crystal, flickering with light other than the miner's headlamp. The miner nudges you to get your attention and flips a small rock into the wall, which is slowly absorbed and vanishes without a trace.
"Yup. Anything goes in, but nothing comes back," the miner says. "And here we wait." The miner shrugs, though their eyes begin to glow softly, like the crystal in the wall, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/30/2020 | |
You find yourself encased in a crystalline cocoon, unharmed but restrained by glass-like tendrils that worm their way into your flesh. You scan over your body and see nodes of brilliant light placed at various points beneath your flesh. You look around, and squinting through the hazy diffraction of the walls of your cocoon, you make out an endless row of cocoons with various forms held within. Whispered voices, scared and confused, begin to echo around you, and your visual sensorium begins to become overlaid with additional inputs -- those of other individuals similarly trapped within their own cocoons. A thousand hands explore the walls of their prison, a chorus of anxious voices begins to clamor, and through it all, a complex series of manifolds rearranges itself, the continuous, homeomorphic deformation encompassing a derived spatial projective. Suddenly, the cocoon begins to fracture, and your find yourself blinking in confusion as the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/30/2020 | |
You see a large man working before a hot oven. Sliding a long paddle into the opening, he carefully removes a perfect loaf of bread. Frowning as he investigates his handiwork, he juggles the still-hot loaf a moment before tapping the bottom a few times and listening carefully. He smiles, places the bread on the counter, and peers into the oven a moment. Standing tall, he wipes his hands on his apron, and takes a seat as he begins humming softly. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/30/2020 | |
You see a parched field, scattered with scrub and dried grass. A few sparrows fruitlessly pick around the dirt, chirruping at one another occasionally. As the sun soars overhead, the earth begins to crack, and a single point high in the sky begins to descend. As it grows, it unfurls long green vines, and reaching for the ground, slowly drifts downward. As the trailing vines touch the dried field, they burrow deeply and begin to thicken, pulling down a large sphere of foliage, which despite being tethered, continues to hover, bobbing softly in the breeze. The sparrows begin to explore the strange plant, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/30/2020 | |
You hear the faint ringing of fine bells, and see an ephemeral woman made of silvery blue light floating in the distance. Her face is rapturous, and she soars along at breathtaking speed, half a dozen orbs of similarly silver-blue light floating around her head. She slows a moment and rears back, her fists held before her, and arching her head back she silently screams to the skies. The orbs begin to grow in size and intensity, and as one, erupt into a multitude of brilliant golden beams of radiant energy. The woman vanishes behind the blinding light, a second sun erupting far above as the beams begin to rake the land, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/01/2020 | |
You see a man unfurl a length of tapestry from a loom and pause to examine it. He holds the fabric between his arms, scanning along its length, examining every inch of the complex weave. As he progresses, the material begins to fade, losing coherency as it becomes transparent, ephemeral. Before long, the man is holding nothing but air, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/01/2020 | |
You find yourself deep underground, surrounded by the oppressive weight of the chill air and echoing dripping of damp stone walls. An enormous door of kertig and banded bronze is closing as giant gears churn, and astonishingly, a massive figure in golden plate braces in the mantle, holding the doors open, slowing their closure. Beyond the doors cowers a family of weeping refugees, dirty and frail, and far behind them, skittering forms of tooth and claw race forward. The massive figure shouts at the family, urging them to run faster, and her strength begins to waver as the doors begin to close. As the monstrous forms draw near, the figure grits her teeth with the effort, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/01/2020 | |
You see a wide open plain, featureless save for a circle of warriors standing shoulder to shoulder. Their forms are twisted, hideously contorted, and a dark miasma streams from their bodies, pouring from the gaps in their armor. A yawning void pulsates and crackles in their midst, full of barely visible gaping maws and clawing horrors. A loud series of explosions can be heard in the distance, and the horizon fills with rising points of brilliant golden light. Soaring high into the sky, the sparkling lights hang for a moment and begin to coalesce. The figures smirk, raising shields made of writhing carapace and twisted space, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/01/2020 | |
A windswept mountain steppe unfolds around you, the air chill and bone dry. A thin Elothean woman stands atop a boulder, her graying hair and fading robes a sign of the time that has passed. Her posture is unchanged -- rigid and impassive, she watches the distance. At her side, a muscular alfar warrior sits cross-legged, casually sharpening a long black blade with a whetstone. The woman leans forward and frowns, the wrinkles of her face -- evidence of the mountain air and sun having left their mark on her -- deepening as she squints and peers into the distance. The warrior pauses and without looking up says, "Just some horses. Come, lets get some tea?"
The woman blinks a moment, shakes her head slightly, and stands tall again as the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 03/01/2020 | |
A tall woman leans forward and grabs your hand. She smells of honey and fresh ginger, and the terror in her face is unmistakable. She yanks a locket from around her neck, snapping the fine silver chain, and presses it into your palm. The locket opens with a soft click, and blue motes of light begin to spiral outward. The woman looks relieved for a moment, then erupts into flames, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 02/22/2020 | |
You feel a deep chill in the air as the world melts away around you and all you see is a massive dragon soaring high above the clouds, bits of ice and frost shedding from its body with every mighty wing stroke forward. One of the errant shards begins to dance hypnotically through the air, spinning, twisting, and twirling upon a wild course as it falls toward the ground below. You wince and shield your face just as the shard of frost is about to pierce your eye, and a feminine laughter rings in your ears! You finally open your eyes to find that the vision has faded and the world returns to what it was before. | |
Possible Subjects: Dragon | Repeat: False |
Date and Time: 02/02/2020 | |
You see a vast open vista, salt flats stretching to the horizon, reflecting the sun in a vast expanse of white glare beneath a cloudless pale blue sky. Everything is still and silent, when suddenly a man and a woman sprint by, nearly nude save simple flowing wraps. Both are barefoot, their calloused feet pounding into the salty ground leaving crackled footprints, a cloud of dust billowing in their wake. Neither passes the other, and sweat pours from their flowing hair and long limbs. They heave, their breaths in rhythm, and their hearts beat steadily, furiously. Muscles strain, tendons creak, and still they pound forward, eyes wide and faces grim. The man begins to falter and pulls a vial from his belt, and without missing stride, drinks it in full. He grimaces, clenching his teeth as blood begins to stream from his nose, but he surges forward and matches the woman's pace. They continue to run, and the sun burns overhead. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 02/02/2020 | |
A battle rages all around you, the clash of steel and magic tearing flesh and rending the sky. Blood soaks the mud, and the screams of the wounded mix freely with the howls of the frenzied. A phalanx of wardens standing shoulder to shoulder leans into their tower shields, grimacing against a river of fire and shadow that breaks against their barrier. Initially deflected by the shield wall, glowing fragments of sparking metal trace flaming arcs in the air. One by one, the wardens' shields fail, and they are incinerated, flashes of outlined skeletons disintegrating to ash. You crouch in their wake next to a crystalline globe filled with a murky fluid, wrapped in wire and connected to a series of conduits. One of the wardens looks back at you, wide eyed, and screams "Now! Do it now!"
You realize you are holding a small, crackling piece of metal, which you slam into the globe. The globe erupts in uncoiling energies and no-color, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 02/02/2020 | |
A windswept mountain steppe unfolds around you, the air chill and bone dry. Half a dozen soldiers lie on the ground, groaning as they rub bruised ribs or cradle dislocated shoulders, their weapons shattered around them and their armor torn from their bodies. A thin Elothean woman stands rigidly next to a muscular alfar warrior, and together they look down at a tall man with a broad frame. A bruise is slowly blossoming across his eye, and his pauldron bears the emblem of a captain.
"Turn back. There is nothing for you here," the alfar warrior states. "Do not return. We will always guard these mountains." The captain stands with a groan, turns to help his soldiers, and they begin limping back down the steppe. The woman and the alfar warrior watch them go, and after a long while, the alfar begins to snicker as it playfully shoves at the woman. She does not yield, though the corner of her mouth betrays the barest hint of a smile. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Empaths | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 02/02/2020 | |
A massive tree erupts from the ground, steel, stone, and fire wrapped into a triple-helix trunk that unfurls into an expansive canopy. To the east, a crackling red storm swirls into an immense tornado, slamming into the ground and opening before you, a tunnel of chaos and lightning revealing a massive slab of iron. To the north, an angled ziggurat towers into the sky, warring light and shadow rippling across its steps and altars. To the west, an endless desert, featureless save for a single pinpoint of light in the distance. A battered wasp lands on the tree's trunk and examines its surroundings before flying east. The storm rages, and after a long moment, the screaming begins. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 02/02/2020 | |
Everything flickers, the fabric of reality rent, and a howling wind spatters hot, fetid blood across your face. A towering wall appears before you and erupts into a mass of screaming multi-limbed bodies, skittering with wing and claw. The tide of forms rushes forward in throes of rage, and a massive figure in golden plate shoves you back. The wind plinks against her armor, sending sparks as rock and shard bounces off breastplate and helm. The figure stands tall, fearless, focused, and you catch a glimpse of her face, eyes closed, a half smirk gracing scarred lips.
As she turns to the onslaught, she slams her broadsword against her tower shield in challenge, roaring in fury. Swinging a rainbowed arc of radiant light as she runs ahead, she shows no mercy as she practices her craft, carving a vicious arc of smoke and shattered glass. As the figure dances behind shield and blade, she begins to glow with luminescent white light. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/23/2020 | |
You see a twisted, grotesque, vaguely feminine form with three arms spread wide in challenge. Scars and burns mar her form, and her third arm terminates in a thin but razor-sharp bony claw. Two pairs of small, translucent wings crisscrossed with veins and boney protrusions sprout from her back, occasionally twitching in agitation, and her black and cracked lips stretch over a wide maw, which she periodically unhinges to reveal three rows of needle-like teeth.
Her five gleaming yellow eyes narrow and stare directly at you, and she begins to smile. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Sivroch | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/23/2020 | |
You hear the sounds of a busy workshop, a team of craftsmen working on looms which methodically clack as the heddles shift back and forth and the beater pounds the fabric. The warp appears threaded with fine metallic thread, while the shuttles appear wound in softly glowing fiber. As the tapestry grows, a shifting mosaic pattern emerges, pulsing with chaotic and ominous geometries. The craftsmen periodically pause and call out in alarm, pointing at a new form or remarking on a strange quirk of the piece. As the finished product gathers onto rollers, you notice the edges crackling angrily, bending space and leaving jagged edges of reality. The craftsmen continue their work, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/23/2020 | |
You blink, and before you crouches a strange creature with six muscular arms, embracing itself and wiping its face as it weeps. Brilliant silver streams from the creatures face, glistening in flows along its muscular torso, down its legs, and pooling around its feet. As the silver pool grows, strange ripples skitter across its surface, crisscrossing in complex interference patterns.
The creature continues to weep, the pool grows and grows, and gradually, streams begin branching outward and carving a pattern across an unseen surface, illuminating the landscape. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/23/2020 | |
You see a disfigured scholar kneeling before an altar, the chapel dark save for a single torch providing flickering light. The scholar's features are a mess of scars, a triple line raked across his brow and cheek, and a simple linen patch covers one eye. His right hand is locked in a tight fist, gray skinned and streaked with black veins. The scholar prays fervently, prostrating himself before the altar as he beseeches the Immortals for forgiveness. The altar shifts imperceptibly, and the scholar gasps. He draws a simple knife from his belt, and without hesitation, places it on the altar. The pupil of his remaining eye dilates and he looks around in wonder, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Zauldin, Redeemed | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/04/2020 | |
You find yourself looking up at a brilliant star scape, the three moons high in the sky. The broad faces of Xibar and Yavash cast an almost blinding purple that competes with the dull shadowy haze of Katamba's face. A meteor streaks across the sky, shattering as it etches a long arc above, the pieces further fragmenting as they spread, a celestial fractal etched across the sky. Over the course of long moments, they slow to a gradual stop and hover in place, cooling from a sharp yellow through a dull red, and finally dimming, nearly invisible next to the blackness beyond. Against the inky backdrop, dozens of points can be vaguely seen slowly descending, spiraling and darting back and forth. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/04/2020 | |
You see a broad dock and a riverboat captain presenting paperwork to a custom inspector. The inspector peruses the list and shakes his head, and begins to argue with the captain about the bill of goods, claiming that inventory is not properly accounted for. The captain calmly listens to the inspectors claims, and then she holds up a single hand to silence him.
"I've seen this routine before, inspector," she says, "so let's skip it and you tell me how much you need to allow me to unload here." The inspector snarls, produces a vial of naphtha, and as the captain goes wide-eyed, tosses the naphtha casually onto the deck of the vessel, causing it to explode with a flat *woomph*. As the flames begin to consume the boat, the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/04/2020 | |
A cool wind caresses your face, carrying the scent of crisp autumn dry grass and hard earth. An open field stretches before you, glistening with morning frost, and the bright sun burns in the pale blue sky. To the distant west, a storm cloud gathers, and the air begins to smell of rain. You reach down, and gather a fist full of dirt, letting it fall between your fingers and scatter in the breeze. The vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/04/2020 | |
You are surrounded by darkness, the musty scent of hewn rock and damp air filling your nostrils. A flint is struck, and a torch flares with light, revealing a massive cave, the bare rock walls and ceiling disappearing beyond the small circle of illumination. You are circled by robed figures, their faces obscured by masks made of bramble and clay, streaked with stark white paint. The figure holding the torch steps forward, touches your forehead, and the ground begins to ripple like water. Suddenly, you fall, submerged in gloom. From the depths you flail, reaching upward for air, and you watch as the figures begin to one by one walk away from the light, until your lungs burn and only the torchbearer remains. Tilting its head curiously, the figure snuffs the torch against the flowing ground, and there is only darkness. Air suddenly fills your lungs and with a shuddering breath, the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |
Date and Time: 01/04/2020 | |
You find yourself in a broad tent, a ring of enormous warriors gathered around a low smoldering fire. Adorned in blood red paints and animal pelts, crisscrossed with rippling scars and burns, each carries a weapon in their calloused hands. They argue, shouting and swearing in foreign tongues, gesturing threats and spitting into the fire. A heavy rain can be heard outside, the staccato hammering on the tent surging and ebbing like a heartbeat, though not loud enough to drown out the argument unfolding before you.
A child walks in, wearing nothing but a hide loincloth, his thin body and bloodied knuckles seemingly out of place among these giants. He holds up a hand and the warriors immediately fall silent. The rain continues to thunder against the tent as the child softly begins to tell a tale, and the vision fades. | |
Possible Subjects: Unknown | Repeat: Unknown |