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Sleep Sandman; Events have been set in motion within Dreamscape
Topic Started: Jun 14 2018, 04:23 PM (44 Views)
Morti
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Embodiment of Pandemonium/Aspect of Sacrifice
Urbem Noctem, the seat of power for the Font of Dreams. Floating through the Dreamscape on a massive stone. One of the few constant structures that existed in this world of subconsciousness. It was from here that the Throne of Twelve resided, issuing the creed to all La’Sedi to obey. Since the beginning, the moment they had become Dreams, this had been their home. If one were to go to the edge of their floating island, or look from the tallest tower, it would appear as if there was almost like an invisible barrier surrounding the city, and the rock it rested upon. For beyond their border there was nothing but swirl with a constant cloud of energy and flashing light within the ever-changing cloud. When a mind connected to this realm, a miniature world was created within the cloud, with a Dream or Nightmare overseeing it conditions as the being slept, only for it to dissolve once they awoke. Returning the energy to the rest of the Dreamscape. There was a higher concentration of dreams around Urbem Noctem, which made sense as this was were all Dreams resided when not assisting the minds from the waking world.

A lone figure stared out from the central tower of Urbem Noctem. From afar, it was impossible to tell anything aside from that the individual was massive in comparison to the average human. Up close a great deal was more apparent. The being stood somewhere close to eight feet tall, large broad shoulder, and completely clad in golden armor. A large spear held in hand as two pure white eyes was all that could be seen through the ‘T’ space in his helm. The being appeared almost angelic, though he was nothing of the sort. Slamming the base of his spear against the black stone floor, He scoffed allowed. “What is it you want of me?! You know I do not wish to be disturbed!” His voice boomed through the massive hall that filled the high floor of the tower. Turning, he faced the center of the room. To his left, a set of twelve thrones rested, each set higher than the last, until a single throne rested at the furthest back, and highest up. The highest through belonging to the gold clad knight.

“Ever since the beginning, you have always been so unnecessarily aggressive,” This voice was firm, but out of insight rather than strictness. “Really Orim, I feel some relaxation would do you a world of good. Being so uptight could make you unwell. Although I am aware you will not listen to me, at least not about this,” There was a small laugh that followed these words. Any humor that had been in them was purely in the eye of the beholders as Orim simply scoffed again before walking over to the thrones, stopping in front of the lot of them.

“What is it that you want Tsudok?” Orim’s voice had come down, but the level of superiority did not. The being was obviously full of himself, but it was of no surprise coming from the First Throne and Icon of Honor. It was unfortunate, but pride ran strong within the honor that Orim represented. Out of all the throne holders, he was by far the most volatile. Believing that anyone that was not “honorable” was not worth existing, he had cut down many simply because they appeared to be dishonorable in his eyes. Most the time, however, they had merely insulted his pride, and thanks to that, he lost his temper. It was an unfortunate drawback to his aspect, but there was nothing that they could do about it as he was the strongest. On top of that, if the Font of Dreams began turning on itself, then they would all be significantly weakened. This would just leave them open to a second attack by the Nightmare Genesis.

Tsudok moved silently closer a few steps. Unlike Orim, Tsudok was not clad in armor of any kind, nor did he hold a weapon. No, this creature wore a dark purple cloak, hiding his form from view. His arms hidden within the sleeves, the ends of which met together as his arms were, assumingly, crossed. The only thing within the hood that could be made out were the same pure white eyes that peered from Orim’s helm. Other than that, there was only darkness. His form was hunched over, not a hunchback, but definitely a being of poor posture. However, his frailer appearance held no standing in damping the massive presence he had. Like Orim, Tsudok was also a Throne holder. The Third Throne, and the Icon of Wisdom amongst the Tel’Excidia. It didn’t matter who it was, all denizens of the Dreamscape heeded his words, for it would be foolish not to. “The Seas of Sand have begun to flow once more,” His words held a great deal of weight to them, “and you know what that means.” Tsudok had been wary at the thought of sharing this information with Orim first, with a temper like his, Tsudok would not be surprised if he took to destroying the Seas of Sand all together, which would have lasting, detrimental effects upon the Dreamscape.

Orim turned his gaze to the floor as he thought for a moment before returning to Tsudok. “Trance Fall has begun to build.” This was a terribly short explanation for the tremendous gears that had been set into motion. The Seas of Sand was the only clear connection between the Dreamscape and the waking world that could allow physical travel. After the barrier had been brought up between the two layers, the Sands had ceased flowing. There had only been one other time that the Sands had begun to move once again, and it set the war between the Font of Dreams and the Nightmare Genesis in gear.

“Trance Fall nothing more than the Tel’Excidia’s Boogeyman! You guys are so ridiculous sometimes, I love it!” The sound of the light-hearted, and amused injection was quite the surprise to both Orim and Tsudok, whom both looked to the source. Lounging across the Orim’s throne, legs dangling over the arm rest of the stone chair. Sylabas was tossing a black ball up into the air over and over again, assumingly in an attempt to kill her boredom. She was the only one in the room that appeared to have an actual body. A blue robe was snugly bound to her body, sleeveless thus exposing her pale arms. Silver, full-finger rings on each of her fingers, and a silver, crowned, full helm, atop her head. Tsudok was not surprised by her appearance, but it was obvious that Orim was less than happy to see her upon his seat. For Sylabas to show says a lot, as an Icon of Euphoria, she did not typically bother with anything high priority as it was not typically Euphoric for her. However, what gives one that euphoric feeling varies from individual to individual. Thanks to that, Sylabas typically only had to experience something once and find it give her the sensation, though this is purely because of what she was as a Tel’Excidia. “The last time there was a Trance Fall, sure there was the war, that doesn’t mean it will happen again. Besides, I think it would be exciting for new Dreamers to come visit.”

“You are a fool and unworthy of your Throne Sylabas! Dreamers are an abomination that have no place within the Dreamscape!” Orim roared, pointing at the woman with his golden spear.

“Calm yourself Orim. What she says does have some merit to it,” Both of the Tel’Excidia’s surprise was palpable. “The arrival of Dreamers could be used to our advantage. If we can convince these soon to be members of Trance Fall that they should ally themselves with the Font, then our power will grow exponentially.” He had a point, and even Orim would have to give him that. However, they all knew that mortals were fickle creatures, whose loyalties were easily swayed when faced with a greater opportunity. In order for it to work, they would have to find a way to assure that the those with the mantles of Trance Fall. Contemplating Tsudok’s words, Orim slowly walked back to the window he had been looking through before, his back to his two companions. He had much to consider, but one thing was obvious. They could not allow the Nightmare Genesis to discover the state of the Seas of Sand. It was bad enough that one of their ilk and somehow managed to slip pass the barrier and was currently residing within the waking world. If the rest of them knew that this passage for the mortals was now open, there could be a senseless slaughter.

“Lani. Kosam. Mafet,” As Orim spoke each name, a new presence could be felt within the hall, though there was no visual confirmation of their actual attendance. “Go to the borders of the Seas and make sure that the Nightmares do not discover its activity. Any that come across you, destroy them before they can report back. There was only silence to answer, but the three additional presences vanish after his orders had been issued. “Sylabas, I want you to inform the others of this development. If anyone comes across a Dreamer, I want them brought to me immediately."

“Okay!” She chimed before vanishing from the throne into white smoke, swirling for a moment, before it shoots through one of the many windows. Tsudok bowed to Orim before he, as well, vanished into white smoke and left the room in a similar manner.

Their world was changing, and they all had to be ready for it. For change in the Dreamscape, was never an easy transition.
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