Influence From The Shadows:
Lost and Found Within Dreams

Sleep used to be an opportunity for rest and recovery. There was even a time when you used to enjoy it. But now, now it seems to be haunted with dark dreams, nightmares, or for those that hope for some greater meaning, visions.

Every night the same place, the same sights, sounds, and smells. A room where the floor and walls glitter like crystal, filled with strange machines of glass and steel. There are faceless figures speaking quickly in hushed voices, and many languages. Scattered words float out of the rambling swirling mists of the dream…

“…too close…”
“work…nearly undone”
“…failed to stop us…”
“…Earth…Gaia…”
“…advance to the next stage…”

And the last thing you see, every night before waking, is the woman in the crystal chamber, hair floating around her, wires and chains across her skin, with the glisten of tears flowing into the water she is immersed in.

Every night, the same place, the same sights, sounds, and smells. And yet, those you adventure with have seen it too, haunting their sleeping moments, burned into their eyes as they wake. These are the kinds of things that people wish to keep secret, because what sort of person would wish to hire a band of adventurers that claim to be having visions?

Yet the visions do not relent. They persist, and feel as though they grow ever more pressing, more hurried, as though time to accomplish what is needed grows short. But all seers claim their visions are pressing, in a sad attempt to gain notoriety and attention. Always hoping that attention doesn’t come from the Inquisition or Tol Rauko of course.

But for now, another night of sleep has ended, which means another day of work begins. Dreams and visions are nice, but they fail to put food in the stomach and mead in the glasses. Therefore, time to don the armour, draw the weapons, and strike forward for treasure and glory. Should the vision be unraveled in the process, then call it a bonus. No one heeds visions anymore anyway.