This is a page for visions that clerics spontaneously experience.
Please use Template:Visions to list them.
2016
2012
| date |
01/23/2012
|
| vision |
A shimmer, like heat rising off the desert distorts the air, warping your vision into a spiral that momentarily makes you dizzy. Color bleeds together as you lose track of time and direction becomes meaningless. The chaos begins to overwhelm you, your mind reels and your stomach churns. At the moment you feel as if it will overcome completely, your vision goes black and your senses tell you that you have started falling.
When your eyes adjust, you find that you are standing in a richly appointed, but sparsely decorated room with high ceilings. An ornate chair carved from satinwood sits against one wall with a semi-circular study table in front of it, as if the massive oak table intends on defending the chair from the rest of the room. Heavy curtains have been drawn over all the windows, blocking any outside light in favor of the dim glow emanating from a candle sitting on the table among stacks of tomes and scrolls.
From behind the collected works of lore and wisdom assembled before you, you can hear a beautiful voice humming an Elven children's song, below the table you glimpse a small pair of pale-skinned bare feet, gracefully tapping out the beat upon the hardwood floor. Over the melody you hear a light rapping upon the door, and within the blink of an eye a tall, dark figure wearing white gloves is crouching next to the chair. "Your command mistress?" the figure asks, in a deep voice.
The dulcet tones of the simple refrain are choked short by a retort hissed in anger. "You know my will, weakling!" A milk-white hand and arm arc out from the chair, striking the figure across the face with an audible slap. "Now go carry out my bidding knave, find the half-breeds, and bring the boy to me!" With an evil giggle, the feminine voice says, "Do whatever you wish with the girl, see that she furthers the great work."
Bowing deeply, the figure rises from his hands and knees as he says, "Yes lady, it shall be done." The figure turns from the chair and starts for the door as the young voice calls to him in a singsong voice, "And bring me the books about blood I require!" The thin arm reaches out again, gracefully retrieving a hand mirror from the table as the melody begins again. Your eyes lock again upon your surroundings, you begin to sense time's march as reality crashes upon you with a shudder.
|
| rep |
False.
|
| sub |
|