The large dunlending stood upon the porch of the ruined farm building, still chewing upon the herbs that the dunlending woman, Lyleif, gave him not long ago. He took the whole pouch in his mouth and chewed it. The crushed herbs fell out in his mouth, before he pulled out the pouch and offered it back, though she warned him not to eat him all and soon visions will come upon him. He shrugged it off and sat back down.
Time passed, and the dunlending started to feel strange.. distances were changing rapidly before his eyes, and trees swirled about on the spot. He rubbed his eyes with a growl, pushing himself up and going for a walk by the fields of the farmers of Bree. All was fine, until dusk came..
The stone wall beside him started to fall apart, brick by brick hitting into the ground and disappearing into the green grass. The bricks continued to hit into the ground, in a rhythmic beat, before it grew louder and louder in Pren's head, and soon the grass grew yellow and longer before somethings started to appear atop the hills around..
Horses and their riders were all around, spears and shields pointing down before they got closer and closer. The beat of the bricks now replaced by the thundering of hooves into the grass, as they barreled closer towards the roaring and turning dunlending in the middle of the circle. He swung around, his cloak following behind before the horse made contact and a burst of flames appeared where it happened! Images began to float around, him of all sorts of animals.. though he soon focused on them.
An ox, a boar, a dragon, a falcon, an avanc and a stag all floated about in the air before a grand figure appeared. The Huntsman himself, Pren bowed in respect though as he looked to the ground he saw it had changed from the tall dead grass to thick mud that stuck to his boots if he did not stop moving on the spot. Then dunlendings poured in from all sides, and rain hammered down out of nowhere before flash of thunder revealed yet another figure.
A tall figure, dressed in white robes and a long beard that reached to his waist. He spoke in a deep commanding voice, one that Pren has heard once before a raid upon the Horse-Lords, though the words were spoken over and over by the Brenin's of Dunland, who had sided with the White-Man.
"The Horse-Men took your land. They drove your people into the hills to scratch a living off rocks
Take back the lands they stole from you, burn every village!”
The dunlendings shouted and roared, before they ran off into the darkness. Pren looked down, his knees now deep in the thick mud and he was sinking fast. His large hands clawed around, though to no avail and he went deeper into the mud. Soon his head was down under the mud, and his air stopped coming to him.
He thrashed awake, finding himself in a lake near to the farm where he was staying. Soaking wet, and coughing water he trudged towards the hut with words and images spinning through his head.. all he needed now was a lie down and a hard think about what he saw. He growled as he thought of those herbs, never wanting to touch them again.
