Tag Archives: Visions

Taking A Deeper Step?

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As the group is walking back from getting the third key of Nodden-Torr, Alexis brings up a question.

“I’ve been thinking about the ring.” He keeps looking straight ahead. “If I go deeper with it, it could help us understand what’s between us and Bandesingh, and what’s waiting for us when we get there. Same way Gus was the only one who could use Dauntless, I’m the only one who can use this. Red could get there someday, but he’d have to make some choices he hasn’t made. That’s not where he is.”

He’s quiet for a few steps.

“If it didn’t cost anything I wouldn’t be bringing it up. There would be moments where I’m looking at too many possibilities at once and I’d need someone to help narrow it down to a decision. Someone with a clear head and strong convictions who can cut straight to what matters.” He glances at Ca’armine. “That kind of thinking would be useful.”

He keeps walking, lets that settle.

“There’s no danger of the ring taking me over. Same as there was never any danger of Dauntless possessing Gus. This ring was forged for one purpose: knowledge in the service of keeping humanity alive. Red wants knowledge, full stop. The rest of you want to protect humanity, to varying degrees. I’m the only one who combines both enough that the ring and I are truly aligned.” He says it plainly, but something in his face tightens. “I wish that wasn’t true.”

He keeps his eyes on the tunnel ahead.

“This is one of the great artifacts humanity has ever made. We’re going after the Tear because it improves our chances against Bandesingh. Should we let me lean further into the ring for the same reason?”

He glances sideways at the group, still walking, clearly waiting.

The Need For Some Time to Appraise

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It’s the daytime after the group has first started scouting Tarkus Vell’s warehouse. Ethelred is on watch.

Alexis stirs, pushes himself upright, and glances around the camp. The others are still wrapped in sleep, breath rising steady from their blankets. The quiet hum of the nomad quarter beyond, the wide grasslands holding steady at the city’s edge. He spots Ethelred on watch and lowers his voice.

“Evening Red” Alexis whispers.

…

“Mostly good,” he says after a moment, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Though I woke from another of those dreams—like the visions back in the Westlands. This time I was behind the eyes of a great white wolf. It dug at the earth, but the ground gave back bodies instead of dirt. And still it tore on, trying to reach something burning below.” His hand closes around the red jasper at his throat. “We can’t let him succeed. He’ll ruin everything if we do.” Alexis says it plain, as though stating the weather.

Alexis takes a moment and shifts gears.

“I’ve been thinking that after we leave here we need to spend some time discerning what some of our tools do. I still lament giving up those wooden rings, but we weren’t spending the time we needed to figure them out and Mavon needs the money. But while traveling away from here, or wherever we are next that’s quiet, please make sure I make time to uncover the mysteries.”

Alexis eases back down onto his bedroll, folding his hands behind his head. His gaze lingers on the pale sky, a faint smile touching his lips as the sounds of the nomad quarter drift across their camp.

Post-Gate Reflections

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The group is almost back to E’armos from the First Gate. The group has traveled through the Howling Wastes, but has made it out of them. Alexis is walking beside Ca’armine.

“You know,” Alexis said, eyes on the horizon, “I keep thinking about the Gate. About what we walked away from.” He hooked a thumb toward the north-west without looking. “They knew Bandesingh’s name there. They knew his allies. We tracked the weapons being made to there. That wasn’t nothing; we had a trail, and we left it cooling.”

He glanced sideways. “You’ve said Raiden wanted you to turn back. Maybe. Or maybe… it wasn’t about turning at all. Maybe it was about where to put our eyes. We were looking one way, but the truth was sitting right there in front of us. Or maybe going to the First Gate wasn’t the most direct way to get to Bandesingh, but perhaps it could have been the quickest way, that Raiden knew-if asked, to disrupt his working, or to topple the Hand.” Alexis shrugs at his thought that will never be known and was never tested.

“And Drennos. You said he taunted you. Maybe he did. But it sticks with me—reminds me of that beggar in Sutheron. ‘You may have killed the snake, but the wolf still hunts, the spider weaves, the king behind the throne is coming.’” Alexis pauses to gather his thoughts. “Whatever that poor beggar was trying to say, Rask certainly took it as some sort of curse or threat. But sometimes messages come in ugly wrappers. Perhaps Raiden was working through Drennos.”

Alexis kicks a stone forward, watched it skitter. “And those visions—the ruins of Raiden’s long-gone armies? They don’t have to be warnings. That could have been a clue or an omen of both weal and woe. When his armies fell, they almost certainly left something behind. Power. Tools. Maybe even a key to tearing the Hand apart or to stop Bandy’s evil master plan.”

“So maybe the Gate was a pit.” Alexis nods his head towards Ethelred, to emphasize ‘pit.’ “Fine. And we climbed out. And we carried things with us when we did. Maybe doom wasn’t the only story written for us there.”

Alexis keeps walking beside Ca’armine. Letting the words hang between them as the group moves closer and closer to E’armos.

In Game 09072025: Ca’armine’s dream

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That night after the ritual, feeling deeply connected to Raiden, Ca’armine sleeps well and slips into dreams. 

You find yourself standing in the plains, stretching beyond sight in every direction, at night with the stars bright above. A warm wind from the east carries murmurs…”soon the false god shall ride again, clothed in shadow, born into this world on the blood of innocents. Time is running out. The sands in the hourglass are nearly spent and the gate of skulls will soon have a new lord. My time is nearly spent. If the shadow returns, the night will never end.”

Shadows grow and blots out the light of the stars. You awake, heart pounding.

Raiden Doesn’t Like This Place

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My friends– as we approach the heavy fortifications of the West Gate, I feel compelled at last to tell you. Throughout this journey I have been tortured by visions, including glimpses of the silent and stern visage of Raiden. I have felt that our steps were taking us away from, not closer to, the goal for which I asked my Lord’s guidance– the defeat of the Dark Hand.

Dennos has taunted me. He identified me as a priest of Raiden, from the outset, and as we traveled further and further into the west. I ignored him while he was challenging my God. But as we walked further west– and my visions grew more intense– I realized his taunts and my visions echoed each other. Raiden beseeching me to turn back. Reminders of the desolation visited upon his armies, long in the past.

Now that we stand in sight of the fortress, I need you all to hear and believe me, for I know as well as my own name– we have deceived no one. Drennos of the Dark Hand leads us gleefully into a trap. This fortress is so well defended, despite being in the wild lands, we have to ask ourselves, why? Maybe this is where Bandesingh and the Dark Hand are making weapons and training armies.

But maybe this is a prison, and we are about to be locked inside.