Dreams

The Writings of a Child

Author: 

A small rose colored book. Full of used and empty parchment. Where Syllea keeps her writings and poems that she hopes to someday show to all.

Nightmares

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

I awoke charging through fire.

Bounding and bellowing through the smoke and flames, calling out to my friends, but all I can hear are pained cries and foul chattering. The sound of metal slicing flesh and chopping bone plagues my ears, while the sounds of clicking and hissing drive me to near madness. I had come back hoping to be greeted with warmth and kinship, but instead, I am left with the sounds of pain, torture and doom.

Dream Sequence / White Fire

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Conceptual

I had not dreamed in many days. Between the wound in my shoulder - which had been infected, but is now healing - and the turmoil in my own emotions concerning one close to me, I thought I would dream more often than the silence that faced me when I closed my eyes. 

But I Can't Help Falling--

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

It was late when Sera finally returned home to check on her mother. Her unevenly cut hair was a bit disheveled and her tunic somewhat wrinkled. She stepped through the door quietly and tiptoed into the bedroom she shared with her mother, only to find her sound asleep in her bed. She strode over to her mother's bed and pulled the blanket more securely around the sleeping woman's shoulders before moving to return to the main room of the small house, choosing to sit by the still burning embers of the fire. 

Flashes, Red

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

"Wha...who..?" Eadegwen looked up at Mat with questioning eyes.
She hadn't meant to say so much...but after what Gwen had told her, she wanted to help. To make her know she wasn't alone.

Sweet Dreams, Pet, Dear Pet

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

It is black, just as the nights in which the moon itself hides, and the stars blot from a mass of clouds. At first perhaps that is all it is, just the night sky and air. Perhaps its closed eyelids. Yet, a flame hovers in the far off, and a figure next to it, indiscernible at distance. Stitches tuts his tongue as he stares at the shape the orange light outlines, and steps closer, carefully, as he feels the ceiling may be close to his head. After a long blink, he himself holds a torch in hand, and it lights his surroundings, including him on the secret of where he is.

Shattered Sense of Safety

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Rough hands clamped on both arms, dragging her toward the door of her infirmary. She struggled violently, but she had already let them get too close. She should have stopped them before they were close enough to get to her. The two men shoved the door open, throwing her to the floor, the younger one sneering down at her, clearly feeling tough for being able to throw a small woman to the ground. The sense of the deep danger she was in shuddered through her body.

Nightmare

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

"How delightful are the paths of the dreams, realm of Irmo Lorien, place of rest for mind and spirit. Yet sometimes one can stray from the path, and the dream falls in nightmare. Wise master of lore, do not give in to the lure of the shadow but turn your path to light again"

The Breath Of Ard-Galen

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
The breath of Ard-Galen.
Whispers in the grass.
If the meadows stop breathing,
Valariandë will fall, they say.
A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
I can hear it…
The breath of Ard-Galen.

 

The Dream

in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

I dream of pure white sunshine
I dream of crown-topped hills
I picture endless meadows
A land that bears no ill
But oh, alas it can't be real
Although it's true just how I feel

Imagine silver rivers
All topped with sparkling gems
And songbirds always singing
With folk all singing back at them
But oh, alas it can't be real
Yet still it's true just how I feel

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