User:Vien/Visions
Spontaneous Visions
Event Predictions
You see a man of ashen grey complexion standing on a featureless plane. He is hairless and nude, his skin profoundly bruised and burnt. A black aura surrounds him, all sharp lines and jagged edges, except for his head: as it inches upward, the darkness gives way to a crown of braided sunlight.
Above and surrounding the figure is a semi-circle of creatures, vaguely Human shaped but made out of fire and sunlight. Some bob up and down to the beat of incandescent wings, others are merely suspended in defiance to gravity. Manacles bind their limbs and trail earthen brown tethers that connect to the plane below them, leaving them perhaps a few more feet of slack.
One of the fire creatures attempts to raise a blinding sword, but does not have enough slack to bring it above its head. The grey man smirks, but closes his eyes and lowers his head. He walks the distance between him and the creatures, then sits down amongst the tethers.
As your vision clears you see a child's doll dressed in a hooded scarlet robe. The doll lies face down in the mud. You lift the doll carefully, cleaning mud from the back of the robe. You turn over the doll and discover a skeletal face staring back. The face seems to smile at you as the doll fades away in your hand, and your vision returns to normal.
A massive shadow speeds across overhead, drawing your attention upward. Great sheets of metal cover a massive, winged beast as it effortlessly glides through the air. It turns its great head in your direction, opens its mouth and releases a tremendous roar that makes the very ground you stand upon quake. In the span of a blink, the creature is gone, leaving you to wonder if it ever existed at all.
A crimson design etches across the air in front of you. Its origins are foreign, but a powerful desire accompanies it: it means everything you want, every possibility realized.
"You're forgetting something."
You stand in front of an iron table, scalpel in hand. Lying on the table is a half-naked Prydaen, unbound yet seemingly paralyzed. She stares up at you with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, while her breaths are accompanied with gasping, plaintive whines. Standing opposite of you is an elderly Human man in homespun clothes.
The Old Man says, "Glory. Immortality. Transcendence. Every promise that has been made is true. It's all hidden inside there," he looks down at the captive Prydaen, "Waiting for you to dig it out."
He returns a flat, expressionless gaze to you, "The moral dilemma isn't that necromancy demands a terrible price, but that you aren't the one that pays it. Are you worth her life?"