More and more often the dreams find you, but you’re beginning to wonder if they’re really just dreams…
As you turn, you find yourself standing again on the battlefield, surrounded by the hundreds of thousands of dead, heaped all around you. The landscape no longer seems natural; instead, the hills, mountains, and valleys around you are created by the ebb and flow of those who have fallen before you. As you look around you, you see the other 6 faces that you’ve come to know in the dream, even if you’ve never met them in life. Somehow you feel a camaraderie with them even if you don’t know their names or where they are from. One half-elf bard woman sings a low mournful song for the dead as she stands side by side with a human swordmage. On the other side of the pile of bodies skulks a female rogue, trying to find the one who did all of this. Below her, stands a scowling revenant, flanking her with his bear spirit, eyes glowing with blue flame. Just ahead of them, another half-elf, a ranger this time, follows a trail that only she can discern through the carnage. Nearby the half-orc barbarian finishes off one last monster, which had dared to try and attack the group. At the back of the group, a human warden crouches with her eyes closed, her fingertips touching what little earth she can find beneath the gore. You’re a rag-tag group at best, bound by these dreams you all share, and your goal to stop this senseless destruction.
p. Suddenly, the mage whirls, his eyes widening in shock and fear. “He has finally brought the last piece together and is tapping into the node.” Following his mage sight, the human runs off to the North, doing his best not to slip on outstretched limbs. The rest of you follow, trusting him to lead you true.
In about a half-mile, you all begin to sense the power yourself. The air pulses with each throb of power, raising the hair on your body like static electricity, forcing your heart to beat with its primal strength. You all know this is bad, but still you climb the mountain of bodies, hoping that you’ll be in time. As you top a hillock, you see him/her standing on the ridge above you. He or She is backlit by the setting sun, so you can’t make out the details on the person, but you know it by its arrogant stance. It wears many crowns, symbolizing the nations that it has crushed in its bid for power. As you watch, a huge ball of brilliant green energy is disgorged by the earth beneath your adversary, with lines of purple power disappearing back into the ground, connecting this mana node with others, feeding them as the mother-node. The destroyer laughs megalomaniacally as it plunges its hands straight into the node, its body flooding with the energy.
“Now, before it’s too late,” you hear the warden shout as she charges up the hill, the rest of the group close at her heels, screaming battle cries. The green energy, surrounded by purple discharges, builds until your enemy is almost a being of pure energy. As the mega-mana conjunction is drained, the creature withdraws its hands, rearing back. In slow motion, it brings its hands together in a tremendous clap. A huge beam of power surges from its hands at you and you squint your eyes, unable to keep them open in the on-rushing bright light. As the blast slams into you, you cry out in pain, awakening in the middle of the night, sweating and sore, your covers wet and knotted as you thrashed about in your bed…. It will be another sleepless night.