Miskton/Logs/20210710 Visions

Event Name: Vision Meeting

Event Instance: Prime

Real Date: 2021-07-10

Game Date of Event: 438-08-21

Point of View: Miskton

You say, "Well, thank you all for coming! I think we can get started now." You say, "I'd like to start by briefly covering a couple follow ups on previously seen visions." You say, "In one case, I think a confirmation of what we thought it might be a sign of." You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. You say, "A man dressed in fine silk robes and expensive jewelry stood in the center of an immaculately manicured courtyard. Spectacular flowers blossomed under the starlight, a fountain burbled peacefully, and brilliant red and white koi lazily swam back and forth. The man produced a clear tessera, which began to unfurl. The man paused a moment, listening to the tessera, and nodded in acceptance." You say, "The tessera briefly chimed and the man gasped in surprise. Eyes wide, he gazed at the night sky, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints, and his body began to glow with starlight." You say, "After some time, the night sky began to soften, the dull grey of dawn peaking over the horizon. The man squinted, and recoiled in pain, his skin beginning to burn. He quickly ran inside, and the vision faded." Ezerak says, "That sounds like the new...deals the traders made with the Negotiants." Briaen softly says, "Apologies for being late." You say, "I don't know all the particulars, but I've heard that the Negotiants have made some new offers to members of the Traders' guild. And one of those involves being able to amass power from starlight more quickly. With... some tradeoffs." You say, "I haven't seen the outcome myself, but I've heard it can be messy. And one of those tradeoffs is that being in direct sunlight causes issues similar to what was seen in the vision." Eyst says, "Quite a severe bargain." You say, "The other old vision... I can't say it necessarily makes it much more clear, but I did realize that I'd forgotten to mention someone finding meaning in a previously discussed vision that seems likely to me." Xelten asks, "Power has its price, no?" Xelten smiles. You say, "I found myself opening a strange message cylinder and unfurling a short note written on a tight roll of clean parchment. The letter was written in a crisp, exacting hand, though the signature was smudged beyond recognition." You say, ""Thank you for the kind words. We do hope you were impressed with the demonstration. Waste not want not, after all. Trees have full bounties this season, due to the heavy spring rains, but the salve is still precious. The permission granted by foals for approach and petting is, of course, contingent on an offering of oats." You say, "Unable to make sense of the message, I turned it over, looking for additional clues. The only thing on the other side of the paper was a single and small "2" written in the bottom left corner. I blinked in confusion, and the vision faded." You say, "Voranos was able to make sense of that "2" on the back of the paper. If you look at the second word of each sentence, you get the message, "you do not have permission". A phrase which has featured in a number of visions." Ezerak ponders. Apollys frowns. Apollys says, "The hidden message is unfortunate when the original message was so pleasant." Xelten asks, "Of what were the related visions?" You say, "Exactly what we do not have permission for remains unclear, but the best guess still seems to be that it may be related to what the Negotiants and the Arbiter in Darkness are up to." You say, "There have been several, but the most recent one..." You say, "I found myself walking through a hallway, the walls made of sheets of thin paper soaked in noxious fluid. I found an open room, a sheet of paper mounted to a writing desk. I sat and began to write, telling my story, and after I finished, I hung the paper alongside other stories, and it quickly became soaked in oily liquid." You say, ""As if that would have been enough," came a sharp voice behind me, and I whirled around to see a figure obscured by a silvery robe, holding a flint and steel in gloved hands. "Still, an addition." You say, "To my horror, the figure struck the flint, causing a spray of sparks, the erupting ring of fire roaring as it expanded to engulf everything in sight. Turning to run, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a sheet dissolving into ash, and made out the line, "-OT HAVE PERMISSION Y-" before I could see nothing but smoke and fire. The vision faded." You say, "One of the earlier visions was finding a burnt down building, with some scorched books containing the phrase. So fire seems to be a somewhat common theme as well." Xelten makes a grunting noise. You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. You say, "Now, to more recent visions..." You say, "These first two I've spoken on a few times elsewhere. The first one, I have some concern may be related to the pirate Srinoja, after what happened with her at the end of the recent naval battle, being taken off by Sivroch." You say, "My vision faded. Atop a throne of desiccated corpses on a desolate, black-sanded landscape, a tiny husk of an otherworldly creature glanced at me from a makeshift throne of skulls, her large, curving horns seemingly unwieldy on such a tiny frame. Leathery wings extended from her back as they stretched widely, easily spanning triple the diminutive height. She hopped down from the pile on cloven feet, settling above the mutilated body of a Human. The twisted creature lifted a taloned hand to draw her own eye patch upward -- revealing a slitted orange eye with a pulsing glow. She stared into the distance, as if observing something not quite visible, and issued a command to something indiscernible on the horizon. My vision returned to normal." Ezerak nods. Xelten gives a slight nod. Ezerak says, "I think we haven't seen the last of Srinoja." You say, "A small figure with an eye patch, and a Gnome pirate taken off by a creature whose body has presumably been transformed by demonic power. It's not a sure thing that they're related, but it does seem suspicious." You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. You say, "The next vision has a few things to wonder about in it, one of which may be related to a previously seen vision." Briaen says, "We've seen the last of her living form, perhaps. What's left of her future though, remains...unquestionalbly tied to her choice of allies. We will see her again, but her eyes will reflect the vision of another." Eyst ponders. You say, "My vision faded. I watched as a massive figure stood over a field of corpses, draped in tattered black rags. Dessicated corpses were strewn about the ground. He leaned over a large claymore, spattered in blood, oblivious to a crown of stars that now rested upon his head. He turned toward me, his maw gaping and slack, empty eyes staring directly in my direction! "Miskton Ramahk," he addressed me directly. "You will become One with Them. You will welcome Them as they crown themselves Lords of this world! You will be the road of broken bones that pave Their entry to this world." He hefted the weapon with ease, and took a step forward, a multitude of voices searing into my mind! I witnessed untold devastation before me in every direction, a bleak and cracked wasteland paved with shattered, ossified fragments. With a jolt and a lingering sensation of dread, my vision returned to normal." You say, "The crown of stars may relate to another vision seen previously, though it's a bit hard to say how. Aside from that, as to the identity of the figure... Someone brought up an idea that I have wondered about." You ask, "Has anyone here actually seen the lich Jeihrem?" Xelten matter-of-factly asks, "So if we get rid of you, there will be no road?" Xelten smirks. Ezerak chuckles at Xelten. You chuckle. Ayrell chuckles to herself. Ysilda giggles. You say to Xelten, "It's my understanding that other seers have found themselves addressed, as well." Xelten snaps his fingers. Briaen says to you, "I'm likely one of the few here who has had the opportunity to meet Jeihrem, given my...history. But even I chose to pass on it." You say, "I imagine there's a few people who saw him back when he did attack the mainland, but probably not many since then." Ezerak says, "Ah, the whole Moon Mage guild, then." Ezerak nods to Xelten. Xelten says, "I may need more arrows." Ayrell chuckles at Xelten. You say, "So, I am curious if that figure might be him, but even then it doesn't explain the crown of stars. What the importance of that might be, and why he doesn't seem to notice it." Eyst says, "I've heard accounts of him. As I understand it he does wield a claymore if that lends credence to your theory." Xelten says, "The first time I thought I saw a lich, he ultimately revealed a talent for looking very much alive, and as several different creatures. The second time was a lich proper, but that did not work out well for anyone. This one, I have not seen, nor am I aware of anyone who has." You say, "I suppose it's possible that the crown of stars is a symbol of some form of demonic influence, although I couldn't say what being, if so." Ezerak nods. You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. You say, "There's another recent vision that also features monstrous figures, though it's a bit less ominous. Still rather violent, however." You say, "I saw a squad of monstrous figures encircling an endless void. Their scarred armor grew ever more fearsome, fed by inky tendrils extending from the yawning violation they guarded. They slammed wicked weapons against massive shields in challenge and formed an impenetrable shield wall, and after a moment, several flickers of golden light raked across the area, blasting the ground to slag but deflecting off the figures' shields. The brilliant bombardment ceased, and the figures snarled. The tendrils pulsed, and the figures grew ever larger." You say, "An undeniable but somehow comforting weight began to press down over the area. The figures glanced upward in confusion, and suddenly, slammed to the ground under an oppressive force. Their armor began to scream and his as the figures strained against an invisible weight, and their bones began to break. Still, the pressure continued, and coughing ichorous blood, the figures were crushed, the tendrils withering. The vision faded." You say, "These creatures seem similar to ones that have been seen in other visions, often fighting against figures wearing golden plate." Ezerak nods. You say, "There have been a number of battles, some of which featured things like beams of light raking from the sky, but what exactly it's all about has been much less clear." Eyst nods. Eyst asks, "Have we ever seen the creatures as coordinated as you described?" You ponder. Eyst says, "It's interesting that they appear as a cohesive unit of armored figures. Much more akin to their golden opposition." You say, "They've certainly appeared to be capable of using battle tactics before, though I think being connected to a void by black tendrils, and drawing power from it, might be new." You say, "And the monsters may have been people once, as there was a vision in which someone seemed to be transforming after being struck by an attack, though if I recall correctly he was killed before it could complete." You say, "Given the scale of events seen in some of these visions, I think unless they are extremely metaphorical there should be some obvious signs that such things are starting to happen." You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. You say, "The next vision... is a bit disturbing, and also mysterious." You say, "A large ballroom sprawled around me, beautiful crystalline chandeliers sparkling above, drinking in the soft light. A massive fireplace roared against one wall, a focal point for a crowd of immaculately dressed individuals in jeweled masquerade masks. They talked amicably, chuckling around expensive drinks in fine glasses." You say, "Suddenly, a man leaned dramatically to one side, grasping at the empty air for purchase, and remarkably, finding it. As one hand grasped and held nothingness, the other hand was pulled to the floor, and he was yanked in either direction, his shoulders popping. The hand holding onto thin air began to stretch, flowing like water, and countless smaller hands sprouted from his arm and spiraled outward, clinging to the air. Wrenching free, the appendages were unable to hold on, and he was pulled down into the ground which swallowed him like water. Silence filled the hall, but as one, the guests resumed their conversations. The vision faded." You say, "Exactly what happened to the man who ended up pulled into the floor is difficult to say. But the other guests clearly noticed it, and then chose to ignore it." Ezerak ponders. Ayrell ponders. Ezerak asks, "Could that one be related to the ones with other...strange phenomena? The reversed gravity, and such?" You say, "It seemed like he did have some control over the hands that were sprouting from his arm, as they tried to hold on and keep him from getting pulled into the floor." You ponder. You say, "I suppose that's possible, certain physical laws apparently being suspended." You say, "I don't think I've heard of anyone doing something like that, growing so many additional limbs. Though of course this vision does seem likely to be more metaphorical than a literal event. It has that feeling, at any rate." Apollys rubs his head. Eyst nods. You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. Eyst says, "It would be a remarkable trick otherwise." Apollys says, "So far, everything has sounded like something far beyond me." Xelten says, "Started something he could not control and was swallowed by the movement." You say to Apollys, "Many visions tend to be difficult to grasp until after the fact, unfortunately." You say, "And whatever he was doing, other people were apparently aware of it, aware of the consequences, and willing to ignore them." Xelten dryly says, "Sounds awfully Therengian." The Elf assistant asks, "Could the circumstances and location be significant? A masquerade ball? Impeccably dressed individuals. Yet this one man stands out" You say, "The circumstances are likely important, yes." You say, "There are a few things that could be guessed about the individuals based on location and their manner of dress, though not enough to be certain on." Ezerak says, "Could be a metaphor for some sort of sorcery." The Elf assistant asks, "Is that not a colloquialism as well? Grasping at air?" You say, "I'm not sure if I noticed anything about the man that particularly set him apart from the other partygoers... at least until he started falling over." You say, "There's something along those lines, yes. Though usually it doesn't even start to work, the way it did for him." You say, "But holding onto air, falling through the ground like water... Those are both elements behaving in ways they shouldn't." You say, "And then I have one more new vision to discuss this evening." You say, "I found myself seated on warm sand, the soothing hiss of the surf nearby. A warm fire crackled before me, and a smiling man played a lyre, a soothing but sad tune that wound between the sounds of the ocean. The man took his time building the chorus, and after a few repetitions I found myself humming along. I began to relax and feel the stars burning above, twinkly along with the music." You say, "Another melody began to build, discordant and jangling chaotically. Suddenly, one of the lyre strings snapped, and the man frowned as he creatively played around the gap. The second melody grew louder, and the stars began to crackle, snarling with malice. The fire *popped* loudly, a trail of embers danced into the sky, and the vision faded." You say, "Perhaps not quite so overtly menacing as some of the others, but still something unfortunate going on." You say, "I did have one thought... I've not encountered it myself, but I've heard rumors of people getting the sensation that something was 'off' while casting spells. Has anyone here experienced that? I've just had the rumors to go on, no first-hand reporting." Xelten tilts his head to one side. Briaen shakes his head. The Elf assistant says, "Interesting that those last two both involve individuals desperately attempting to keep control of a situation unravelling" Ezerak says, "I've but heard the rumors." You nod to a Elf assistant. You say, "I could see the song being played having something to do with spellcasting, and the discordant melody having something to do with this sensation of something being wrong. But it's hard to say much without more details on what people are supposedly experiencing." You say, "If any of you DO have such an experience, I'd be interested in hearing about it." Xelten nods in agreement. You say, "Now, that's all I have for the moment as far as new visions, but the topic of the visions apparently relating to the Dark Hand was brought up before the meeting, so I'm happy to go over a couple of those visions again. Let me just find those notes..." You turn a page in your astronomer's journal. Apollys smiles. You say, "Okay, there were a few visions that seemed most directly related, featuring signs of a wall that might be Corik's Wall." You say, "In the first, I found myself 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 betrayed the presence of siege engines, thick timbered ballistae and trebuchets built into the stone, well provisioned with iron-tipped bolts half a dozen spans in length and oiled clay boulders. The sounds of wild animals could be heard in the distance until a chorus of hooting and growling was suddenly choked off." You say, "Beyond the marsh to the south, a series of fires flashed to light and arced wildly upward, soaring into the sky in brilliant streaks, and screaming as they began to drop toward me. As they flew, they fragmented and pummeled the wall around me to little effect. Looking down, I realized the flaming projectiles were the severed heads of woodland beasts, flesh burnt and peeled back around blackened teeth. More fires lit in the distance, and the vision faded." You say, "In the second vision, I found myself walking in a humid swamp, the scent of rot and decay a choking miasma. The sounds of wild animals could be heard all around me, a chorus of hooting and growling, but I could not see signs of any life larger than stinging insects and the occasional ripples across the water. Far behind me, a large wall could be seen, torches dotting the ramparts at regular intervals. I continued into the wilds." You say, "After some time, I came to a somewhat elevated clearing with a single tent staked into the muddy ground. Though the canvas was torns, the remains still stood. Loud snorting and muttering could be heard from within, and as I peered into the rent fabric, I saw a half-naked figure covered in mud carving ordered lines into its arm and shoulder with a rusty knife. Chanting in guttural gibberish, the figure giggled and cried and shouted at the unseen. Suddenly wheeling around, the figure saw me watching, and with a yowl of anger rushed forward. The vision faded." You say, "Then there were another two visions which didn't feature the wall, but did seem to perhaps follow onto the second vision there, with the figure." Apollys frowns. You say, "In the first, plunged into oppressive humidity, I found myself surrounded by bent cypress and beech, dripping with sheets of crone's hair moss. Wading through the murky water, I made steady progress towards a slightly raised bank. Scrambling up the muddy island, I noticed a crouched man dressed in rags. The man repeatedly picked up a rock and tossed it out into the swamp, but before striking the water, the rock stopped in midair, quivered a moment, and reversed course, right into the hands of the man who deftly caught it. With each repetition, the man berated the rock, scolding it for its impertinence and refusal to behave like a rock. Suddenly freezing, the man turned and noticed me, and in one swift motion hurled the rock directly at my head! I fell backwards into the water, and the vision faded." You say, "In the second, plunged into oppressive humidity, I found myself wading through waist-deep muck. Something slid along my leg but continued along without disturbing the surface of the water. Pushing through a tangle of vines, I suddenly fell forward, sliding down a wet incline! Hitting the water I surprisingly landed on dry ground, looked around in confusion, and realized I was at the bottom of a wide bowl-like depression, the water of the swamp a dozen feet above streaming downward." You ask, "Raining upward?" You say, "Following the misty stream as it rose and poured into the sky, I looked up. Inverted above, a floating island bore a wide armed willow which dangled long branches down to the swamp. Thick roots protruded from the island and reached for the sky, drinking in the humid air and soaring rain. I heard chanting in guttural gibberish, and the vision faded." You say, "Those two seem to be related to each other, at least, and the swampy terrain and the man throwing the rack may link back to the previous ones." Apollys gives a slight nod. Eyst nods. Apollys says, "Though, hm." You say, "A representative of the Emerald Knights did confirm that the area described at least sounds like some of the terrain beyond the wall, though hard to say with specifics." Briaen says, "Troubling, that." Ezerak nods in agreement. Ayrell nods. Briaen says, "Thought I have not been home for some time, I do not recall it ever raining in reverse." Apollys says, "It also doesn't sound entirely unlike the stretch of land north of the Faldesu as well, though. But assuming it is the Hand, I wonder what it could mean, and I wonder if I shouldn't speak with my father." Apollys furrows his brow. You say, "Yes, the second set of visions in particular could be a different swamp." You say, "The first set could be as well, though the wall is rather prominent in those." Eyst says, "The first two sound like what you'd expect from stirrings beyond the wall. Creatures, wildmen, and whatnot. Reverse raining does seem to stand out alone." You say, "Judging by the man throwing the rock, I would guess that the floating island is a continuation of whatever work led to a rock that refused to fall." Apollys asks, "Do you think it's likely alluding to the use of magic, or something more, uh... metaphorical?" Briaen says, "I would say metaphorical, visions are notorious for being less than literal." Apollys gives a slight nod. Eyst says, "I should be off. Thank you for a diverting evening." Eyst nods politely to you. You say, "It could be metaphorical, though if they are related to the prior vision, the figure there did seem to be engaged in some sort of ritual." You nod politely. You say to Apollys, "And please, spread the information to anyone you think it might be of use to. I sent word to the Emerald Knights, and I would love to get word out to members of Shadow Clan, but actually reaching them to deliver information is tricky." Apollys hesitantly says, "I, ah... yes. I'll do what I can." Apollys nods politely. You nod. You ask, "Does anyone have any questions, or other things they would like to discuss?" The Elf assistant asks, "Has anyone ever addressed the seemingly more frequent occurrence of things happening within the visions that are unrelated and seem to break through them?" You ponder. You say, "Well, such things have been seen before, though usually involving beings related to the Plane of Probability. Some of these more recent such instances do seem to be a bit different." The Elf assistant says, "Observing future possibilities and having the people seen there directly addressing you in their potential past seems...out of place" The Elf assistant says, "and of course the constant "You do not have permissions"" You say, "It's possible that the figures addressing the seers are not actually literal depictions of the people we can identify them as." The Elf assistant says, "I am by no means well versed on the Web of Fate. But observing the presumed lich and having him look back..." The Elf assistant asks, "Does that indicate that moon mages are losing control of their foresight?" Briaen scoffs. You say, "If they are, yes, that is of some concern. In particular one vision of Sivroch, that seemed to be observing an actual event, and having her react like she noticed someone watching. The lich was similar, but did not stand out quite as much. Being directly addressed is certainly something that has happened before." You ponder. You say, "I'm not sure if I can recall being addressed specifically by name before, actually. Though I suppose visions in which Pelag appeared he probably could have, if had any interest in calling us something beyond 'defiler' or the like." The Elf assistant says, "the Not having permission messages would indicate that something is directly trying to stop it" Xelten asks, "Does your Guild really have permission to see visions in the first place?" You say, "Being told we do not have permission could be related to the vision itself, or it could be that something else is being looked at which someone feels we should not." You say, "It might not even be specific to moon mages, though it does seem probably more likely that it is." Apollys squints. Apollys asks, "Forgive my ignorance, but, permission from whom?" Briaen says, "What guild has permission over their area of pervue in the first place? Clerics, maybe." You say to Apollys, "That is a good question." The Elf assistant asks, "I am just concerned that your foresight is actively being worked against. Or noticed by third parties. How soon before it is manipulated?" Xelten asks, "Are the masters of the plane of probability really that different in concept than the chief entities of any other plane?" You say, "If we knew the answer to that for certain, it would probably make much of the rest clearer." The Elf assistant asks, "And what does that say for the visions that are "allowed"?" You say, "Oh, our visions absolutely have been compromised beings from the Plane of Probability. It's something to be concerned about, but it might just be because of their nature, allowing them to be like someone standing in front of a telescope. A bit hard to ignore them and see what's beyond it." You say, "Someone actually manipulating a vision to show something specific they want, that strikes me as rather more difficult a trick to accomplish." The Elf assistant says, "I trust that you know more about it than I. I will think no more on it then, my concerns laid to rest" The Elf assistant says, "Thank you" You nod. You ask, "Any other questions?" You nod. You carefully mark your place and close your astronomer's journal, securing the clasp. You say, "Okay then! Well, thank you all for coming." You smile.