(2010) Dreaming - Larp Magazine by Larpoteca (The Larp Library)

Live Adventures in Dreams

vi s i t

A N O TH ER W OR L D and be home by morning

Live Action Adventure Escapism By Dan Comstock

We spend about a third of our lives in the realm of dream, even though we can't remember it. The Dreaming is not just a phenomenon produced by our unconscious brains. It is a vast and strange realm hidden behind our own world. We are only visitors there. We drift around in a trance and think that it is our lives. But there are people who live in that misty realm. You probably can't remember them, but their lives are profoundly intertwined with your own.

he Dreaming is a game about the world hidden within our dreams. Its first incarnation took place between 2002 and 2006 at SUNY Purchase college in New York. In 2010, it was resurrected by one of its creators, Dan Comstock. Dan wanted to run a reality-bending live adventure game based on easy access and social networing technology. Between March and May of 2010, he ran an instance of the game which is documented in this magazine. 80 people signed up for the game. Groups of players gathered in Connecticut, Long Island, and Ohio, and more were scattered all over the United States. Dreaming players develop a persona - a character who lives in the Dreaming. To play the game, you and your friends will become members of the Dreaming society. People in the Dreaming go on adventures and fight monsters using foam boffer weapons. Events in the game world are coordinated via a social networking site. Players pick areas of the real world which would be good spots to play. They use Dreamscaping rituals to give these places a special meaning, and then gather other players there for feasts, tournaments, or adventures. Characters can put curses on each others territories or steal them from each other. When a number of characters gather, they can go on adventures called Dream Walks. The game's website website hosts a number of Dream Walk scripts you can print out and play. People in your party will become the monsters and characters you encounter during the adventure. The Dreaming involves a form of collaborative storytelling. Players document game events by posting blog entries, pictures, or videos to the social-networking site. This output was used to create this magazine. The story was not pre-scripted. It unfolded as people explored this medium and mode of play. This magazine is about some very creative players and the adventures they had in a world we can only imagine. We live in strange times. The world is changing faster than it ever has. But it's not just the Waking World that is changing. Our Dreams are transforming as well. In January 2010, the Fae were exiled from their homelandand now wish to live in dreams. Many dead humans are not finding their way to the afterlife, slipping in the Dreaming instead. Worst of all, terrible monsters have begun to appear, slaying anybody who has the courage to face them.

Introduction

Visions

Dead Gods

Fae

Lost Souls

The Story

Arrival

The Ice House

The Inn of Doors

Record of the Fae War

Squire's Castle to Arcadia 34 Knights of Ocean Tower

Land War

Slaying Another Portal

The Battle of Ohio

Rebecca Squire

Cardinal Rules

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Editor: Dan Comstock All copyrighted works remain the property of their respective owners. Special Thanks to the original Dreaming staff: Dan Comstock, Keith Johnson, and Josh MacNeil For current updates on The Dreaming and other wacky adventures, go to HTTP://CRAMUL.US

THE PEOPLE IN OUR DREAMS Interlaced with the world in which we live and die, there is a place called The Dreaming. It is said that humans spend a third of their lifetime there, drifting through its misty corridors and shadowy forests. This is not a place of logic, it is a place of symbols and abstraction. It is a place of mischief, politics, danger and adventure.

Who lives in the Dreaming?

There are four races which players can choose to play: Visions, Dead Gods, Fae, and Lost Souls. These races are collectively known as Dreams. The Dreaming also contains wakes (humans who are asleep) and shades (spirits without a body).

Visions

Visions are the natural-born inhabitants of the dreaming. Visions usually look just like humans themselves - humans are the most common thing to appear in a dream and the easiest thing to manifest. Visions are varied in personality and motivation. Many possess magical abilities which can affect the Dreaming. One thing that all Visions share in common is a custodianship

for the Dreaming. They know that the Dreaming and the Waking World have a symbiotic relationship. As such they try to keep the Dreaming pure - this often involves slaying monsters and repelling invaders.

Fae

Fae are mythological creatures who come from realm called Faerie, an enchanted place where water runs backwards and stories become real. There are many different kinds of Fae, including elves, leprechauns, goblins, dryads, and redcaps. Fae used to spend most of their time in Faerie, but would occasionally journey into the Waking World. Now their plane is overrun by monsters, and the Waking World makes them sick, so they've take refuge in the Dreaming. In January 2010, the Fae made a mass exodus into the Dreaming where they now reside. Many Visions are happy to give the Fae a home, as there is no lack of space in the Dreaming. But there are also many Visions who do not like outsiders populating their homeland and influencing the Dreamscape.

Dead Gods

The Sumerians and Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Native Americans, worshiped literally thousands of Gods, many of which have been forgotten. When a God loses all his followers and belief, he passes into the Dreaming and waits for his return to Earth. When an ancient God regains a following the mortal world, it will become real again. Until that time, the forgotten Gods wait in the Dreaming, vying for power and respect. Each God has an altar somewhere in the Dreaming. An altar is the God’s resting place, and is sacred to that God. The Gods followers can meet at the altar and receive blessings.

Lost Souls

When a mortal dies, their soul passes into the labyrinth, the cosmic mystery at the center of all existence. From there, it is guided to the afterlife it has earned. Certain Fae took the responsibility of guiding mortals into the next life, threading a holy path through the Labyrinth to that mortal's destiny. But since the fall of the Fae world, more souls have been know to become confused. Many pass into the Dreaming. There, they are called Lost Souls, mortals who have lost their way to the afterlife.

Wakes

The Dreaming looks just like the Waking World. The residents of the Dreaming can sense that real-live people (nicknamed wakes) walk through another version of their world which often overlaps with it. When playing the game, we regard people who aren't playing as "Wakes" people who are just having a dream. You can still

· Visions: Natives to the Dreaming · Fae: Faerie refugees from war · Dead Gods: Forgotten deities · Lost Souls: The restless dead

interact with Wakes, but they're not really a part of the game. You can light their cigarette, give them directions, ask them if they saw someone come running this way, et cetera, but they cannot have any other influence on the game.

Shades

The Dreaming is home to countless spirits who lack a body, called shades. They cannot be seen or interacted with, but some characters can feel their presence. Their spirits drift aimlessly until they find a body which they can occupy. Dreams and wakes may be possessed by a shade spirit who will use their body for its own purposes. Some characters, called Summoners, can call a shade into a dead character's body and command it as a minion. Shades also appear during Dream Walks, where they must possess characters in order for the adventure to progress.

Monsters

Some shades are neutral spirits with no specifically ill intention. They are native to the Dreaming and are fairly benign. However, shades from beyond this realm have begun to arrive too. Most of these shades are monsters, hostile creatures which cannot be reasoned with. Monsters have only begun appearing in the Dreaming recently. Some believe the monsters' goal is to corrupt the Waking World by filling the Dream World with violence and suffering. If this takes place, the wakes will get no respite or inspiration from their stay in the Dreaming, and the Waking World will begin to fall apart. Monsters come from a variety of sources, including Faerie, the Labyrinth, and the Void between planes. These monsters are not open to alliances or negotiations. Most people, especially Visions, feel that monsters are a blight on the Dreaming and should be destroyed.

Visions Visions are the natural inhabitants of the Dreaming, and are thought of as dreams themselves. Visions guard the Dreaming against outsiders. They take an additional wound when struck by essence damage.

Beginning as a Vision

If you are playing a Vision, your character will either be a wanderer who has just come here from some other part of the country, or a newly created Vision who was just given birth by the Dreaming. New Visions do not know the current events of the Dreaming and must learn in-game about the presence of Fae. Note that many Visions dislike Fae and view their presence in the Dreaming as a kind of intrusion, though they are for the most part willing to put up with the Fae until they can reclaim their homeland.

The Dreams of Visions

It is assumed that most of the time that a vision spends off-stage and out-of-game, they are in a sort of between-worlds zone where they become the Dreams of the waking world. What exactly does this mean?

On Visions

JULY 23, 1852. JOURNAL OF ARCHILINO DULCINARI, (D. 1836) FORMER MEMBER OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH, OFFICIAL SCRIBE OF THE ITALIAN HIGH SHAPER. Visions are an interesting specimen, perhaps the most interesting specimen that I have seen in this new world. Visions are not born like you and I, in our home plane. They are brought into being by the will of the Dreaming itself. Sometimes they are born for apparent reasons, like decay within the dream country, sometimes for no perceivable reason at all. It is their function to maintain the dreamworld. It is necessary for the Dreaming to continuously modify and reshape itself, as this plane is far more malleable than ours, and the agents through which this is done are the Visions. They serve a secondary function, as well, depending on the vision, in the form of quantifying, experimenting, and interpreting the vast amounts of data that they receive from the dreams of "wakes". Recently, they have adjusted to fit a third function, a function much like the antibodies in our body, fighting impurities in the Dreaming itself. All Visions are shapers of the Dreaming, and the individual dreams of "wakes". Thus, visions are known from time to time to fabricate dream visions in the subconscious of other inhabitants of the Dreaming. All visions are made of the Prime Material of the Dreaming, called Essence. If one can refine the metals of the Dreaming into a weapon crafted of Essence, it will severely damage a vision. All Visions tend to share a custodianship for the dreaming, and most will support a Shaper. However, Visions are frequently xenophobic and will demand that this Shaper be a Vision, or at the very least a Dead God.

When a wake goes to sleep, their mind drifts away from their body. Seemingly effortlessly, it crosses through the mists and into the Dreaming. There, it wanders aimlessly through the Dreamscape, eternal visitors and tourists incapable of resting or staying in one place for too long. Despite the tireless travel, the mind is not fatigued, but rather, invigorated and rejuvenated by its glimpse at the Waking World’s sister plane. Most of this voyage is unfortunately not remembered upon return to the familiar shores of consciousness. While in the Dreaming, wakes often encounter Visions and other dreams. Visions have the talent of stepping inside a Wake’s consciousness and briefly crafting their reality. This can take place in two main ways. A Vision is capable of walking with the Wake and describing a scene in a way that it becomes real to him or her. The Vision shares the point of view of the Wake for a time, and then departs. They will walk together for a while as the Vision narrates: “There is a bucket by your bed and a bat at the bottom of it. The bat is covered with ants. You are horrified.” Occasionally this narrative takes place in the first person. While “phased out”, the vision is incorporeal. While in this state, he or she will skip from mind to mind, sometimes merely keeping pace with one wake, sometimes jumping from dream to dream like a stone skipping on the water. Within a mind, the Vision is the master-painter, a psychedelic director, and for a short time, a part of the Wake’s internal consciousness. While within the dreams of wakes, a Vision has a fleeting glimpse of that person’s mind. This glimpse leads to curiosity, but Wakes do not stay in the Dreaming long enough for to satisfy a Vision's questions. The way that Wakes experience the world is entirely different from Visions. For a Vision, it’s somewhat like looking into a kaleidoscope, but in addition to seeing colors and shapes, the Vision sees contradictory opinions, memories and emotions all blended

into one strange impression. It is a much more contradictory mode of experience than a Vision can imagine. When retracting from this image and returning to the Dreaming, the Vision must return to a world with fewer rules, less structure, and less tangibility. This can be frustrating, but it often provides a sense of purpose and direction. The way that a Vision interacts with Wakes is often a component part of that Vision’s personality. Some visions are called nightmares, and feel the greatest fulfillment from Dreams filled with horror and adrenaline. Some call themselves incubi or succubi, and enjoy dreams of an ‘indulgent’ nature. Most visions prefer to pick a specific emotion or concept to center a Dream around. It is thought that Visions who spend too much time in Dreams can become trapped there, staring abysmally into the confusing mind of wakes. Meanwhile, Visions who do not spend enough time in Dreams find themselves without direction, without motivation, and occasionally, without emotion. These Visions seem to have lost a part of themselves and can often benefit from an extended meditation within the Dreamscape of foreigners. Some Visions wonder if they are necessarily the “top level” of unconsciousness. Dreams lose consciousness too, and when they die, their essence is temporarily in Void. While they slumber, are the spirits of Visions being explored by some beings in the Void? None remember long enough to tell.

Dead Gods

Dead Gods were once worshiped in the Waking World, but their followings have been lost. With few earthly worshipers, they are sentenced to wait in the Dreaming until The End of the World. Dead Gods take an extra wound of damage from either silver, iron, or essence damage. You must choose which one at character creation. (Indicate your vulnerability in the biography section of your profile.)

Beginning as a Dead God

If you are playing a Dead God, come up with some background information about your life. You were worshiped in the Waking World at one point, probably by a long-lost culture such as the Babylonians, Sumerians, the Celts, the Native Americans, or any number of African or South American cultures. Or perhaps you're a newer God, someone who was worshiped in more recent times. Once you were no longer worshiped or believed in, you lost your power and drifted into a long coma. Some time later, (could be a year, could be a few millennia) you awoke in the Dreaming.

On Dead Gods

This place is a kind of purgatory to you you're waiting for someone to worship you again, or Ragnarok, the time when all Gods will walk the Earth again. You do not need to be a historically accurate-god; you can make up a God, but the culture you come from must be real, or at least sound real.

The Divine Brotherhood

The Gods of the waking world thought themselves to be without rival until they learned that their power was equivalent to their followers’ faith in them. This sudden vulnerability came late in life. Much like a football player who receives a back injury and must forsake his destiny, the Husks of Gods have a sense of greatness that circumstance has whisked from them. One of the most daunting thoughts that most Gods have is the notion of unimportance. For their entire existence in the Waking World, the Gods thought themselves the masters and creators of the universe. They may have known of other pantheons, but each God regarded them

as false – mere pretenders and false idols. Most Gods believed that their pantheon was unique, cosmically important. Many believed that members of their pantheon did indeed create the universe. And though all these nations may be true, in the Dreaming, the graveyard of the Gods, they face threats to their own faith in themselves. Gods are suddenly confronted with others of their previous stature. They see mortals who outrank them, and beings which do not fit into their models of the universe (“Who are all these foreigners in Morpheus’ realm?” some Greek gods ask themselves with a combination of frustration and disbelief). The universe seems to be a strange and alien place to a God who has freshly woken from the Sleep of the Forgotten. Furthermore, there are other gods which could not possibly exist! There are even Gods who now walk the Dreaming which were momentarily worshiped by school children, the insane, and fictional characters in books! If Gods are actually the lords of the universe, how is it that every time

mortals meet in mass, they have the potential to spawn another deity, another seemingly omnipotent being who, if even temporarily, seems to them to be the One Powerful Essence in the sky? As such, many Gods regard humans with a mix of confusion and awe. These creatures are clearly more powerful than the Gods first thought – powerful enough to craft a being as perfect as the Gods themselves! And on the other hand, it is almost humiliating to take orders from them. They are mortals, after all. Gods are often struck with pangs of desire to belong to a pantheon. The Gods, over time, can learn to see their peers in the Dreaming not as competitors, but as members of the same family. The interactions and relations with that family, no matter how mundane, are an important part of that God’s personality – a living mythology. Some Gods take it quite personally when a mortal worships a god that they don’t consider part of their pantheon. When receiving faith from this mortal, it will feel dirty and impure. The faith will also feel tainted if the mortal’s heart was not into worship when praying to that God. Gods in many Dream Countries have created a ritual which welcomes a god into the pantheon of that Dream Country. This usually involves a sort of initiation rite in which the god is given the faith of the mortals of that Dream Country and then slain by the other Gods. If the neonate God returns to the Dreaming and is reborn in a day’s time, it means that the God is accepted into the Pantheon. If the God fails to materialize, it means that fate has chosen that this God should move on. Other Gods form smaller pantheons, consisting of only a few of their divine brethren. Everyone in the pantheon must select a mentor (or parent), an ally, and a nemesis from within the pantheon. These relationships often do not make sense, but their existence is crucial to the Gods notion of purpose. These Gods then try to play out mythology and maintain these relations

with the other divine beings of their extended family. Until a God belongs to a pantheon, they are permeated with a feeling of meaninglessness and a sense of being out-ofcontext.

Fae Fae are a magical and mysterious people displaced from their homeland, Faerie. Fae are refugees in the Dreaming, hiding here while their homeland is consumed by war. Fae take an additional wound when struck by iron damage.

Beginning as a Fae

If you are playing a Fae, you are a stranger in a strange land. You are an exile from your homeland, the realm of Faerie. You may have lived in the Waking World during the time the Fae call the Great Fade, when the last magic in the world faded out and all Fae went color-blind. You might have lived in Faerie, the Faeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s homeland, when the Fae were forced them out of their homeland. Or perhaps you were born in the Dreaming and have never known either Faerie or the Waking World. Now you wander the Dreaming, looking for a place to call home.

The Story of the Exile

There have always been two houses in the realm of Faerie, the Seelie court and the Unseelie court. The two courts have been at

On Fae

Welcome friend, sit down and chat with me. The world of the dreaming is a rough place - sometimes it seems so drab and bleak. This place makes me miss my home more and more every day. But this is our home now, and I suppose all we can do is defend this, our last stronghold. I am Tak, a Fae. I used to be called a Satyr, but after we came through the Rift to the Dreaming, our forms ended up being a bit more mundane. Now none of us have horns or wings or hooves - you can barely tell any of us apart! Me and my kin live in the woods here. We tried to live in the Waking World for a while, but it's all black and white and it smells like oil. It's been like that since the Industrial Revolution. Humans still see the color for some reason, but I don't think it's there, not like it used to be. And when color went, we couldn't use our glamour, either. Our kind used to love traveling to the Waking World, but it was too sad to stay. So we left. Now we live in the Dreaming. It seems like so long ago. Once upon a time, we lived in the land of Faerie where everything was bright and colorful, the world oozed magic, and what humankind viewed as impossibilities were everyday occurrences. Those days are gone now. We were driven from our home by war, a war between the Seelie and Unseelie courts. The Unseelie brought the monsters to Faerie, and eventually the monsters overcame us both. Now our great land, once an endless paradise, is a desolate desert. It is less our world now then theirs. After the invasion, many of our kind died. Those of us who survived escaped through the Rifts to the Dreaming only to fight amongst ourselves.

each other's throats for as long as anyone can remember. A long time ago, these courts once stood for something - the Seelie court was associated with light, beauty, and goodness, while the Unseelie epitomized all that is dark, foul, and evil. Over centuries of warfare, each court took on some of its opponent's properties. By the 1800s, the difference between the two courts was in name only. In the mid 1800s, magic in the Waking World began to fail. Advancements in science and technology resulted in a plague among the Fae. A widespread color-blindness and subsequent depression spread through the Fae as they began to wither and die. This was called the Great Fade. Around the time of the Waking World's Industrial Revolution, something happened to the Unseelie Court. They began to fight with no regard for their own survival. They began to employ unnatural creatures which had no place in existence. The Fae were consumed by their mission to destroy their enemies. History would reveal that the Unseelie leader's attempts to tap

into the Void of Nonexistence had corrupted them beyond measure. Eventually, the void creatures were no longer under the Unseelie's control. They began to slaughter wantonly, no longer fighting for one side or the other. The Seelie and Unseelie courts were not able to fight a two front war, and began to lose ground to the monsters. The war drew to a close in the year 2010, when the Unseelie Court succeeded in its ancient goal of repelling the Seelie Fae from Faerie. Spread thin, they were unable to hold their ground, and were exiled as well. In their victory, they had also destroyed themselves. The outsiders had taken the realm, and its natives were displaced. Many members of the Unseelie Court still roam Faerie, which is now a deserted wasteland, overrun by hordes of ravenous monsters. With the exile both from Faerie and the Waking World, the Fae had few places left to go. In mass, they traveled through large rifts to the Dreaming, where they made their home. The Fae found that though they may have appeared as tiny leprechauns, intimidating giants, or any number of dazzling creatures, when their world was lost, they also lost their ability to enhance their appearance with glamour. Now all the fae look quite mundane. The members of the Unseelie court have turned up in the Dreaming looking for a place to stay. Some members of the Unseelie court have followed their ancient adversaries through the rifts to make trouble. Others are guilty for their deeds, or are unhappy with how the war was resolved. Many simply become monsters, wandering the Dreaming in search of the next fight.

The Distant Horizon of Faerie

The Faerie ffolke have many things about them which seem strange to those that know only the Waking World. There are many traditions, rituals, and ideas that are bafflingly foreign to mortals, their gods, and their dreams.

For one, there are many diseases which plague Faerie. Humans are used to diseases which physically attack the body. The Faerie have diseases like these – the (un)common cold, hayfever, tourette’s syndrome, and the bubonic plague, to name a few in common. They also have an entirely different family of diseases which are affective in nature. These diseases effect the mind and the emotions, not the body. One example of this disease is the Scarlet Rage, a sickness that is perforates the mind and agitates it towards violence. Much like one might catch a cold by not putting on a coat before going outside, people catch the Scarlet Rage by feeling overwhelmingly frustrated or hopeless. This disease is common especially among Redcaps. When affected by extreme cases of Scarlet Rage, the sick Faerie sees everything with a red filter over it. People seem to be indistinguishable black silhouettes. Only those that the Faerie really trusts seem to be in focus, and then only briefly. When confronted with one of these hateful black shadows, the Faerie is unable to withhold from violence. The Scarlet Rage is only curable by deep focused meditation, spread out over a long time. Violence, unfortunately, only inflames the disease, but with the brief-lived satisfaction of scratching poison ivy. When the Faerie came to the Dreaming, it seemed apparent that other races could get the Scarlet Rage (as well as other affective diseases, such as Sadarrhea, the Inappropriate Giggles, and Chronic Goth Syndrome) as well. Many beings laughed at this notion – those silly Fae were thinking that people’s natural emotions were a contagious disease! --And perhaps that is true. But still, the Fae Elders warn against being consumed with violence – it does not cure the Scarlet Rage, it only makes it worse. You may destroy yourself, in time. Ffolklore tells a few stories of Faerie that succumbed to this rage and became beasts themselves. The Redcaps instead hold that this disease is a sacred tradition called Bloodlust. When at the height of Bloodlust, a redcap will drink the blood of his foes and dip his cap in it, making it

as red as his anger. This is a spiritual and personal moment characterized by pride, glory, hubris, and a sense of communion with oneself. The Fae have no notions of many things that are natural to the joyless people of the Mortal Realm. Fae do not dream, and Fae do not think about the Afterlife. They do, however, have a few emotions that mortals do not have. One particular emotion is called amaloom. This feeling is a sense of distance from home and deep homesickness which words cannot describe. When a Faerie notices that another Fae is feeling particularly amaloomful, they will try to help out. The most common way of doing this is by giving the amaloomy Fae a gift that reminds them of Faerie. Leaves and flowers are common, but poems, drawings, kisses, and dirty limericks are also popular choices. Many Fae report feeling Amaloom in since they moved to the Dreaming. Oddly enough, some think this emotion may also be a disease which can be transmitted to the youth. Many Fae who were born in the Dreaming feel Amaloom as well, but have difficulty identifying or explaining it.

Lost Souls Lost Souls once lived in the Waking World, but died and got lost on their way to the Afterlife. Now they reside in the Dreaming. Lost Souls take an additional wound when struck with silver damage.

Beginning as a Lost Soul

If you are playing a Lost Soul, you were once a mortal that lived in the Waking World. After your death, you wandered towards a distant light-- usually, mortals are guided to the afterlife, but since the Labyrinth has been overrun, you had no guide to bring you there. You wandered off the path and ended up in the Dreaming. You have fragmentary memory of your life. There are large holes in your memory. You may sense that you may have some purpose to fulfill, but you can’t remember what it is. Some Lost Souls see their time in the Dreaming as another chance to live. Some, however, are very depressed that they cannot be where they belong- their afterlife. Lost Souls do not always look like they did at the end of their life- so you could have died at age 75 but appear as a 22 year old.

Dreams of the Dead

Many humans who have found themselves between worlds have a difficult time adapting to their new plane. It can be a confusing and disorienting place. Many ideas such as eating, sleeping, and dreaming are things which mortals think is essential and universal, but are in fact are only facets of their home plane, the Waking World. The most striking differences between the Dreaming and their old hometown is the distorted sense of time. Days seem to drift by without notice, and at the hour when people first start going to sleep, the Dreaming slows down as if it is magnifying its focus. At no point, however, does time actually seem to slow down or speed up. Upon entering the Dreaming, Mortals are struck with a frustrating sense of simultaneous

bizarreness, coincidence, and nostalgia. They are finally seeing with fresh eyes a realm which they only know by intuition and fragments of memory. Humans spend a third of their lives in Dream, but few have the presence of mind to look around. Now that they are here, they can finally take a close look at what has been in their peripheral vision for decades. They find that they often hear voices, feel intuitions, and get flashes of knowledge or memory that would have made them think they were crazy in the real world. They also have trouble distinguishing between internal and external monologue, so many humans find themselves speaking their mind or babbling without noticing. Mortals spend much of their time pacing the vaguely familiar fields and halls of the Dreaming. They like to observe people’s lives played out in dream. Many Lost Souls notice that Wakes have the same dream every night. These are people who haven’t died yet, of course, but seem to act like they have. These people go to sleep every night and have another dream of class, work, an uneventful night at home, partying with friends, and an eventual

sleep which transitions perfectly into them waking up in the Real World. This is a troubling notion. These poor wakes seem to have little ambition – even their wildest dreams just take them to their job in the morning. Furthermore, they don’t ever notice that what they are living is dream. Lost Souls wonder how much of their past life they have spent in a similar haze. Lost Souls also pick up on cultural undercurrents and archetypes that they were previously unaware of but were vastly influenced by in life. The natural cycles of the seasons, the unconscious cultural energy behind popular music, the themes and emotions of each holiday – these things are enormously present to Lost Souls. They in many ways replace the vague sense of purpose and pack-mentality that many

On Lost Souls

of them had before Death. Most Lost Souls find themselves getting really deeply into the Christmas spirit, the Easter spirit, and even the Rosh Hashanah spirit, even if they didn’t previously belong to a religion which celebrated it. The presence of the Dead Gods in the Dreaming is a wholly unsettling notion to the Lost Souls. The gods cause the Lost Souls to question their mortal faith, and thereby question what really was in store for them in the afterlife. When talking to gods, Lost Souls are filled with a sense of wonder and awe, like they are staring into a pool that is far deeper, older, and more mysterious than they can fathom. Simultaneously, they often feel compelled to follow the advice of the gods. The gods’ wisdom

When the car hit me, I died, though my "life" never ended. I believe that while on Earth, my name was Jacob Cadmire, I walked with my wife along a...beach? Now I walk along side gods and walking dreams. They call me Drathor. This is my story, though the details are foggy and few ever since entering this country. Let me start over. You're hungry for something other than food. You're restless but you can't physically sleep. Welcome to your new home. You came here through those mists. That cloudy, immeasurable road filled with cold, still air and the echoes of horrific laughter? You didn't hear it? Maybe it was just me, then. And they call us Lost Souls. As if we had any other place to go. We're here. Call it trapped, call it blessed, but there's no getting out. You've come here just like I did. That stuff about the car? I'm not too sure - I just kind of hope that, you know, the car was what killed me rather than who ever it was that was chasing me. Look, I don't know about the afterlife, I've never seen Heaven or Hell, and whenever I mention it to one of my new comrades, they give this sly, sarcastic smile, like they know something that we don't. I don't know why there are dead humans wandering this...dreamscape thing. Think of it as you will, but whether this "place" is the end of your journey as humans, a punishment for what you've done, or your last chance at redemption, you're not leaving the same way you came in. If we die here, we stop "being" for a while, but then we come back. Immortality's a sugar-coated imprisonment, I'd say. In the transit between the Waking World and this one, I lost something - my hopes, the memory of my wife's face, the sound of my favorite song. We keep killing these... Monsters, and they can kill us...but then we both come back. I think maybe it's some kind of games that these Visions are playing. They're an odd bunch, like ants that are never out of touch with their omniscient queen. The Gods? Pompous manipulators, but at least they're comforting, I'll give 'em that. The Fae are okay, I guess. So, anyway, call me Drathor. I'd shake your hand, but there's no real feeling in either of us. Don't mind all those fuzzy images of people walking around - they're still alive. I think. Well, see ya 'round, watch your back, because there's some crazy stuff to look forward to.

resonates inside a Lost Soul and can cause him to become enthralled by the godsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; words. Some Lost Souls are angry with the gods, seeing the gods as challenges to their worldview. These Lost Souls have difficulty giving faith to any god that they do not personally commune with through intimacy, discussion, or suffering. When a Lost Soul falls in love with a God, it can be one of the deepest and most profound feelings the Lost Soul can feel. Gods, unfortunately, rarely return the favor.

ARRIVAL

The Realm of Sleep is constantly in flux. Between March and May of the year 2010, the Dreaming experienced a full cycle of creation and destruction. It began as an empty Dreamscape, but with the coming of Spring, hundreds of beings manifested in the dreamtime of North America. While many Dreams remained solitary, a few Dream Countries did manage to come together. The largest groups were in Connecticut, Ohio, and Long Island. Visions and Fae bristled over territory, while Dead Gods and Lost Souls tried to find their place in this realm. This chapter chronicles some of the things written by the Dreams who lived during this period.

Waking Up

By Cardinal of Southport, Connecticut

I find myself living in a house by the edge of the woods. Things seem very hazy. The Dreaming is still coming into focus - I think I may be the only one here. My name is Cardinal, and I am a historian by trade. I enjoy researching the Dreaming and the various stories and affairs which take place here. As Dreams appear, I'll be glad to talk to them about this strange place in which we live. So where IS everybody? I have all these vague memories which I can't quite put together... I think something happened to the Dreaming and it became empty. Well, empty except for the wakes, walking around in their trances. Now the Dreaming is beginning to come together again and more Dreams are showing up.

They will NOT take my Glade

From the journal of Torlain, Satyr of Farlim Glade, scribed through Glamor in a recording of his thoughts... Zzzzzzam!

A screaming arrow whizzes past my head as I dive behind the stone dais in the center of the Glade. So...they have finally made it here, and the small army of forest defenders has failed. If I let my Glade fall...where shall I go? Far too few still stand against the terrible Void creatures our Unseelie kin have unleashed. My family shall not fall to these beasts! Terribe things continue to attempt to crash through the trees surrounding the Glade. I can see my lover, Amanara, straining as she weaves her Glamor to keep them out, forming a solid wall of Glamor around the Glade. SLOSH! As a smaller beast tunnels underneath the wall, my blade finds what looks to be it's neck, and indeed, it stops moving, blocking it's tunnel with it's own body, We are vastly outnumbered, yet we were prepared for their coming. Trotting over to my frightened children, I see that Taram holds his slingshot bravely, acting to protect his sister Elynsha. "If you see one, be brave for your fathermay your aim be true." Touching his forehead, I weave the enchantment, sharpening his eyes and readying his reflexes. Small bits of earth are strewn behind me as my hooves dig into the soft earth. In the clear, clean pond I catch sight of my own reflection- anger fills me as I see the scar where I lost a horn to the beasts assailing us, a small trickle of blood trailing down the side of my face. If there is one thing a proud Satyr will never forgive you for, it's damaging his horns. Wait... what is that reflecting in the pond? 20

Twang! Taram's stone hits the thing in the back of the head, giving it pause long enough for it to lose an arm by my blade as I spin about, then it's head. Where did it come from? This I wonder as I look around the Glade. More and more beast's burrow beneath Amanara's barrier, and worst yet, I can see her struggling so very hard to maintain it. I clear the distance between her and I quickly, knowing that my presence shall give her strength, knowing that if I can only giv... CRUNCH! My vision swims as something comes down hard on the back of my head. Rather than stopping short of Amanara, I crash into her, and hard. I am aware of her soft, supple form beneath mine as my vision does dark. Days later... Something is wrong...this place feels wrong- mundane, cold, uninspired. As I climb to my feet, something is wrong, my back legs will not work, and worse, I cannot feel them. Not the numbness of injury- I feel nothing. No pain from my lost horn, nothing. Putting a hand to my head, it is different- no horns, and the hair is different- softer, thinner. Looking down, I realize that I am no longer the same. I have only two legs, for one. Also, my hooves are oddly shaped and covered up by boots. Removing the boots reveals that I have feet, much like the ones some other Fae, such as Amanara, had. It takes me a while, yet I eventually get the hang of standing on two legs. This is not the forest I know- there are artificially created trails, which I follow for a time as I get used to this strange form which I have taken. As I come out of the tree line, I see a large stone building, reminiscent of a very small and poorly decorated castle. I know now where I am, yet it is clearly time to learn about this place, and how I came to be here.

Apologetics

by Erekiteru Roen of Ohio

Let me be very clear on this: I am not your friend, nor am I your enemy. I am both, yet I am neither. At times, you will see my hand extended to you, offering healing, companionship, safety. An hour later, my blade may be pressed against your neck, a coldness in my eyes that chills your very soul. ...do we have souls? Certainly the lost ones do, or so we say. But what comprises such a thing? Can it be seen, touched, heard? Or is it just a name? Forgive me, I have detoured. I am Erekiteru Roen, Erek to those who know me well. Very few call me Erek. You now stand in my homelands, a place I have guarded and tended for... Hm. I cannot remember this piece of information. Of course, it stands to reason. You see, we Visions are a sort of embodiment for dreams, touching upon the minds of the Wakes, bringing them the inspirations that the Dreaming holds for them. The touch of some brings peace and pleasure. Others bring fear and wrath. My own touch is something a bit more...subtle. Please let me explain. Have you ever experienced the sort of dream that never seems to end? Perhaps you encountered the sensation of falling down a bottomless well, or climbing a staircase that had no ending. Maybe you experienced the elation of flight, soaring towards the heavens, or the rush of an eternal battle, facing and downing foe after foe. Even after awakening, that sense of -- incompletion -- remains with you. You realize that although you have left the dream, the Dream itself continues, and will continue always. Eternity, that's what I embody. If I had a beginning, I do not recall it. Nor do I forsee any ending in my future. It's this concept of the everlasting that I visit the Wakes with. To most of them, the infinite is a terrifying concept. What does one do with themselves for eternity? Yet to some very few, the ideal of everlastingness isn't an obstacle: it's a 21

challenge. I have bested this goal, what is my next? I have climbed this mountain, and lo, a taller one is on the horizon. With my visits, I challenge the Wakes to be more than they are, always. These challenges aren't restricted to the material plane. The denizens of the Dreaming can stand to improve also. The Dead Gods have a flock to return to, the Lost Souls have an Afterlife to explore, the Fae have a homeland to reclaim, and us Visions have a world of our own to improve upon. Thus, we've come full circle: I am not your friend, nor am I your enemy. I am simply what I am -- one piece in eternity's puzzle. Now, Eternity isn't static, mind you. Going on and on forever may *sound* boring, but you've kept yourself occupied for some twentyodd years, haven't you? There's nothing keeping you from making the next twenty interesting, or the twenty after that. In fact, that's part of the very nature of the Dreaming - being interesting, so the Wakes have some color to take back into their gray world. There's many ways to be interesting, I suppose, but my own tried and true method is through the use of conflict. And that's why I may help or harm you. Whether I'm patching your wounds or making more, I'm honestly helping you out. Eternity is about change, about discovery, about learning and growing. Every failure, every success you achieve is tied together to make you what you are, and it's my job to aid you in that. Granted, my motives aren't entirely altruistic: I'm an

aspect of eternity after all, and beginnings and endings fascinate me. Forbidden fruit, and all that. So let's cross blades, cross chasms, cross words, cross eyes. It's all about rising to the next level, and I'm here to help the both of us reach it, one way or another. Be it physically, mentally, socially, or otherwise, I'll do my best to challenge your way of being. If you're lucky, you'll improve a bit when I'm done with you. If you're not lucky? Well, there's always tomorrow.

The View from Squire's Castle, a territory which many would die for in the coming months

Mercenary for Hire

by Rill of Ohio I'm a Fae, living in the Dreaming and looking for work. Seelie or Unseelie? What does that matter now. Our homeland is lost, not because of the dark court of Unseelie fae or even the monsters they brought. It was lost due to our blind devotion to a cause that we simply followed because it was our legacy to do so. What we lacked was individualism and lack of free through. Sure, we all looked different on the surface, but deep down we did what was expected of us. No more will I be limited in these ways. I have taken the Faerie accords upon myself as my personal guidelines to life. Ones that I use to get by in this mysterious place. It's no longer about Good or Evil, Seelie or Unseelie. It's about survival, and I plan to survive. Will we ever get our homeland back? Do we even deserve it back? Only if and when we have served sufficient penance will we know for sure. In the mean time, I am prepared to adapt to my new home. So, if you're interested in learning about the accords in which I live, or even just wish to hire me and my sidearm, you'll be able to find me at the Inn of Doors.

The Long Sleep.

Well, shit.

by Khai of Connecticut

"Glory in life, and death." - "May he grant us protection, and be ever watchful of our enemies." "To the victor go the spoils." - "May he show us the way to victory, in this life, and the next." I heard those words over and over, every day. I heard them, I sensed them, I felt them. They were as much a part of me as anything else... until the day that I stopped hearing them. Once I could no longer hear those prayers, I stopped hearing everything else as well. My throne, my halls, my whole world crumbled around me. And I slept. It was a rest unwelcome, and yet I was unable to stop it from happening. I slept for what felt like forever, severed from myself, severed from my followers, severed from the world. My name is Khai, and I have risen again. Though... this place is not how I remember things. My head is foggy, and nothing is as it seems. I feel out of place, and I feel as if my own faith has been shaken. Though I find myself in unfamiliar territory, I do sense conflict, and other Divine nearby. Maybe this place isn't as foreign as I originally thought. For as long as my brethren, battle, and glory await me, I feel my purpose again. I know this is not my destiny, but I could think of worse fates.

by Zed Richter of Providence, Rhode Island It didn't stop. When I died, I mean. The idea of nonexistence didn't bother me before I was aware, so I wasn't sweating about it after my death. If that was the end of the run, so be it. I ended up here. No reason, no quest, not especially needing anything, but still existing. An old memory from life, a philosophy professor explaining the basic question behind philosophical inquiry was "How then shall we live?" I'm not exactly "living", but it seems I'll be existing a bit longer. I might as well figure a few things out. I've met others. The natives, dreams themselves (they call themselves "Visions"). Faries, and other souls like me too. Even old gods. Weird, those guys, to look at them, it's like they ought to know what's happening, and ought to have an answer for you. "Where's that afterlife then?" Never got a good answer to that. Kept getting asked to pray to them too. Celestial salesmen. No thanks. The others are OK, expected portions of decent folk and assholes. Still people (people-esque), just with some new quirks. So I've set up here, for now. Drop by if I know you, drop a line if you don't. We'll see where this all goes.

A 23

Nightmare Sky

by Miztemah of New York City

I am very proud to be a Vision. I feel an enormous affinity to the images and emotions I create and, as pathetic as I find most Wakes, I am forced to feel a certain appreciation for them as well, as a child may appreciate his ant farm. Every now and then, my Vision pride and my "fond disdain" for Wakes get the better of me, and rather than creating something awesomely terrifying, I just create something awesome. I had been working on a nightmare in which terrorists (what a great name, eh?) dropped chemical bombs over the Lower East Side, illuminating the night with a ruddy haze and warping the sky with poisons until it became a blanket of distended, noxious clouds.

Unfortunately, I became so caught up in the details, that I neglected to really instill the fear. The result was a little ominous, but without the panic to close the deal. The Wakes were fascinated by the bubbling, toxic sky, but they did not associate it with a threat. They just... sort of... stared. And took pictures with their phones. (I swear, it would be a veritable Nightmare feast if all these losers were to dream at once that they had lost their phones.) I thought about fixing it. About lowering the clouds so they could feel the lack of oxygen. So they could watch their fellow man collapse, blue and gurgling. I could have sent in planes. That almost always works. But instead, I didn't do anything. I watched them gape and whisper with each other about it, and I enjoyed a phenomenon I haven't seen since I was created: a bunch of NYC Wakes staring and pointing up. But lest you think my indulging of them was overly affectionate, rest assured: several Wakes did have nightmares about poisons in the air, about aliens invading, and about their world coming to an end.

THE ICE HOUSE

Cardinal, a vision, and Asher, a Lost Soul, found themselves living together in a house in Southport, Connecticut. As Dreams began to appear in the Aether, they decided to hold a gathering. Asher wanted to Dreamscape the house into a feast hall. And Cardinal wanted to turn the strange ruins behind the house into an arena. Dreams arrived from all over New England. There was a matter to attend. In the woods behind Cardinal and Asher's house, near the ruins, there was a portal to the realm of Faerie. Both faeries and monsters occasionally came through, seeking their fortune in the Dreaming. Cardinal wished it closed. But some people would not like this decision...

Beginings

by Zed Richter of Providence, Rhode Island

Within the hour I'll be off to a gathering of beings I've only met peripherally through the aether. Another local soul, Agitato, will be coming with me. I can trust him for the moment, but he's got ambition behind him. I'd prefer to know what that ambition IS before I stumble in it's way. Our host I can trust so far, but the rest will be certainly dangerous. Hiding at home won't help me find anything out, though.

Meeting of Dreams, Southern Connecticut by Cardinal

Last night, Asher and I gathered all the Dreams in the area to meet each other. Cardinal, Asher, Zed, Agitato, Marl, Sarumil, Stig, Jayce, and Tepes were in attendance. Sadly, there were a number of last minute cancellations, but we still had enough people to go on the Dream Walk. We had three Visions in attendance: Myself (Cardinal), Jayce, and Marl. The three of us got along quite well, and have begun talking about forming a Dream Country. There was only one Fae in attendance, named Stig. He came down from upstate New York. He was not pleased that we were going to be closing the portal and agreed to guide us through. There was only one Dead God, Tepes, who has quite the temper! He's quite prone to angry outbursts, but quickly says he's sorry. There were a number of Lost Souls: Zed and Agitato came down from Providence. Asher lives with me. Sarumil seems to have just

allowed people to give their champion's boon to somebody else if they won more than one contest. There was also a contest to find a number of glowing rods I had hidden in the woods. The first person to hand me one of the glow sticks would receive my boon. As Tepes wandered towards one of them, Agitato ambushed him and tried to take it from him. Tepes quickly turned around and pushed Agitato back with a gust of wind. He struck down Agitato and captured the lost soul as his shade. At the end of the Zed and Marl had an excellent battle, with Zed emerging as the victor. tournaments, Stig, Sarumil, and arrived in the Dreaming and didn't know where Zed were declared the winners, and received he was. It took a while to explain to him that he the Champion's Boon for the evening. was in the Dreaming, and I'm still not sure if he believed us. After the fighting was done, we headed We began with a party, dreamscaping the back to the Feast Hall for more burgers and residence as a Feast Hall. We fired up the grill the long awaited Dream Walk. and made sure everybody got a bite to eat. As Stig did not want to join us on the Dream the ritual came to a climax, Asher led is in a Walk, as it would seal some of his brethren on toast. Everybody felt a little bit healthier as we Faerie, but was courteous enough not to left the hall for the ruins. prevent us from going. He, Asher, and Sarumil decided to Guide us through the Dream Walk. There are ancient ruins in the woods (Midway through, Sarumil and Marl would behind the Feast Hall. They predate the Native switch places). Americans - nobody is really sure where this The Dream Walk was tough! We needed part of the Dreaming is from. Unfortunately, the help of a Vision named DeRocha, who lived the ruins were flooded by the recent rainstorms, so we had to duel outside of them. The area is enchanted as an Arena, with Cardinal as its Warden. There were several duels. My favorite fight out of the set was Zed vs Tepes. Zed is not overly fond of the Divine, and Tepes has a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. The tension between the two of them got pretty intense! Zed and Marl had an excellent battle, with Zed emerging as the victor. Stig vs Zed: Both are excellent fighters, their duel was a pleasure to watch. After the three duels, we had a three Stig vs Zed: Both are excellent fighters, their way tournament between the winners. I

duel was a pleasure to watch.

in a very dangerous part of the Dreaming. He told us the name of the path which leads to the portal (Samesoom road), and guided us along the way. We were lucky he stayed with the party to heal us, because we got our asses handed to us by imps. There were just too many imps, and they respawned very quickly. It took us a few tries to get across the jump stones and find the portal. When we got to portal, it manifested into a beastly creature (inhabiting Stig's body). Lots of unseelie Goblins had already come through, infesting the area. The Portal is a really fearsome fight - save your strongest attacks for it! I declared it as my nemesis and managed to hit it with my slay, but it just kept coming at me. At one point, it backed off and began to catch its breath, so I had to rush up and stab it, even though I was heavily wounded and also trying to catch my breath. We eventually put the creature down, and the goblins guarding the gate fled the area. I'm sorry that we had to seal away the fae, but I'm glad we kept some of those monsters out of my back yard!

Stig, Zed, and Sarumil won the tournament at the Ice House 27

Gathering Followup

by Zed Richter

The gathering was a success. Asher and Cardinal are gracious hosts, hold a fine tournament, and their lands are secured forma Faerie portal that was leaking monsters into their area. Two Fae are lost to us, a fact which set Stig, another Fae (and at least my match with his quick staff) and I against the idea. Still, it was Cardinal's right to secure his lands, and at least returning the favor of his hospitality to assist. I met a Dead God there, Tepes. Anyone who asks why I dislike fallen deities, spend five minute with this example. In some disagreement he killed and summoned my friend Agitato as a shade, the only time he added deeds to his otherwise inflammatory and self - reversing words. There were many other worthy folks too. I'll be pulling their names form the aether as time allows. One fact that may lead to confusion; throughout the aether, and in other travels, I am known only as Richter. this may be confusing to some. I have no difficulty respondign to Zed, a name which struck me as a way to be hailed in Dreams, but if there's any doubt, or in a hurry, it's fine if you just call me Richter.

An Oath

by Stig of Hudson, New York

It was a fine beginning to the evening. The conclusion of astral magic always is. The arena of course being my forte, I was awarded a boon from one of our gracious hosts. I met many new faces, but no other fae... we are, alas, a dying breed. I must thank one Zed von Richter for his loyalty and understanding of my plight. I wanted to stop them, they were sealing our escape routes... but to do so would be against my word, the word of our house, and perhaps the word of the fae altogether. I sought out this Derocha, vision, he knew of the gates. I ran ahead determined to widen it before it closed... it appears though, that they know when ill will is intended. We have lost our chance to save fae souls, and I swear it, next time I will make no promises, except that which will save my people.

(from left to right) Marl, Sarumil, Zed, Agitato, and Cardinal decided it was time to Close the Portal.

At the Inn of Doors....

by Althryoth of Ohio It came to pass in the last few weeks, that a man named Benedict offered me an interesting business deal. "Three Fae" said he, "can be rescued from the portal that connects to your establishment. One of them, an old man, may have had something to do with the building of that door.â&#x20AC;? As this is my home, and a place I hold dear, and due to my general philanthropic tendencies, I shook his hand on the deal. When however he returned for his payment, the amount that he demanded was far in excess of what we had agreed upon. I was forced to break our deal. Benedict became angry and told me that if I would not pay for their release, he would make me pay another way. He took the Fae back through the portal. Then my barkeep disappeared, which is highly unfortunate because he was a valuable asset. In addition I was feeling quite morose over the information that was lost from not getting to question those 3 surviving Fae. So I got it into my mind to call together some of the locals of the dreaming to venture forth and rescue those three, stranded Fae. As it turns out the call was received quite well and on the day that I set seven doughty warriors of various races arrived at my bar. Where I plied them with food and drink and requested that they assist those poor unfortunate Fae. Throughout the evening there was much coming and going through my Fae door in the basement of "At the Inn of Doors, I met a Lost Soul named Alvaros the Red. He had only my inn. They did end up newly arrived to the Dreaming, thus, I took it upon myself to teach him returning two of the three about this new world he lived in. Unfortunately (or not), I didn't have a Fae in quite good order, chance to tell him how death works in our world, and he took it upon they failed to return the himself to avenge my own death at the hands of Wampa. Lose one ally, one that I really wanted to

THE INN

OF DOORS

gain another...funny how that works." -Erekiteru

question but beggars cannot be choosers. I did not venture into the door, Fae is a dangerous place and my door seems to come out into a particularly nasty little maze. So I merely heard their stories as they came in and out, stories better heard from the lips that first told them. I am told there are some photographs and videos of what they saw their, I will be trying to track those down as well.

Journal of the Accords, by Rill

This evening, I traveled to the Inn of Doors, hosted by Althryoth in hopes of spreading the ideals of the accords. What was expected to be a simple gathering with food and drink, where I'd be free to converse with others about the accords, turned into something different. For whatever reason, Althryoth had a door that lead to Fae in his bar. While I long for Fae, the door actually lead to a sinister terrible part of Fae which was most feared before the monsters came. I'm speaking, of course, of the maze of convolutions. A prison that the unseelie used to trap beings for extremely long periods of time. While it still seems sinister in nature, it seems like the function of it has changed some since the fall. The portals that normally guide through the maze are now activated by talismans that you find in the maze. If you run out of talismans, it simply takes you back to the door in the Inn. I avoided the maze at first, not knowing whether you'd ever be able to come back. Since others had come back, I figured there'd be no problem in investigating further. Two Fae were rescued, and while I wasn't there for their liberation, I seem to recall it in my memories. I did not catch their names, as they were taken to someoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s estate before I once again became conscious. There is still one other Fae that appears to be trapped in the maze, although it is unknown if he is still alive at this point. On two separate occasions, I traveled into the maze. In my first adventure, we stumbled 30

upon a vampire that could not be killed permanently by conventional means. Were it not for Kal's quick delivery of poison, we may have perished in that very room. As the vampire regenerated, we escaped through a portal, stumbling into a room with a pond filled with clear blue water with extraordinary healing powers. After taking a rest, the group decided it would be best to dip our weapons in the water, as vampires generally don't take kindly upon healing effects. The strategy worked, and as far as I know the vampire is dead for good, unlike most of the denizens of the maze which keep coming back. We then stumbled upon the man named Benedict, who others can tell more of the story about. My second trip with Mr. Red was simply an attempt to collect talismans so another group could catch Benedict. We were successful in our task, however small it was. While that is all well and good, the real goal I had for this visit was to generate interest in the Accords. I had a chance to recruit several individuals (Kal, Althryoth, Thomas, and Gwen, each given an Ace in accord with their background), I was unable to provide more information to Erek, Wampa, and Mr. Red, as I met them shortly before Wampa killed Erek and Mr. Red killed Wampa. Perhaps the Accords would have prevented such a base killing of Erek, but that is now the past. I still seek to speak with Erek and Mr. Red about the accords, but now that we have 5 people involved, we can start to draw up the contract of the Accords. More on that in a separate journal entry.

Doors, Dungeons, Death, Danger...Delightful! by Erekiteru Roen

It would seem that I have the dubious honor of being the first Vision to perish since the Dreaming returned to itself. Allow me to share my recounting of the events at the Inn of Doors: Owned, operated, and hosted by the Sumerian Dead God Althyroth, the Inn of Doors functions as a sort of miniature nexus, connecting

Faerie, the Dreaming, and perhaps even the these two hapless individuals, applied an Void and the world of the Wakes. Magical items antidote to them, and spirited them away to and various objects d' arte adorned the safety. There were more events that took place illustrious inn, and its owner gave us free run that night, but I am afraid that they are not my of the place to explore at our leisure. This being my first time venturing into story to tell. After rescuing the Fae, I decided another's territory since...I can recall...I brought to search for more clues inside the Inn, where I along an ally of mine, a Dead God named encountered a statue whose presence threw Wampa. The taciturn Slayer hails from an me into a trance. While I was laying ancient African religion I knew little about. He unconscious on the ground, Wampa -- who was not very forthcoming with his own past, turned out to be an evil god -- slew me. The which should have given me warning about rest of my memories of that night are seen what would come. As the two of entered the through the eyes of Wakes and Shades, thus, I Inn, we met another visitor, a Lost Soul named shall leave off at the tale here, and hope that Alvaros. He had only just arrived into the another shall continue. Dreaming, and although he was brave and daring, he knew little of his current plight. I invited him to join our party and see what fortune would bring to us. As it turned out, the proprietor of the Inn was having some problems of his own, and "encouraged" us to help him solve them (he was kind enough to let us into his Inn, after all. It was the least we could do). It seemed that a servant of his had gone missing, and I, my companions, and several others that we met quickly became caught up in a mystery revolving around a murder and disappearance. Signs pointed to the assailant escaping through one of the Doors into a convoluted maze, and we decided to give chase. The construction of this maze was an ingenious design, if one can call the workings of chaos ingenious. Each room led to two more, leading to various dangers and puzzles, twisting in upon itself over and over again. During my travels in this maze, I happened upon two Fae that were chained "The Inn of Doors is a strange place, filled with danger and mystery. to a wall and poisoned. My As I studied a statue that seemed to twist the Dreaming around it, I colleagues and I rescued fell into a state of trance. Thus incapacitated, I was defenseless against the killing blow of my "ally", Wampa." -Erekiteru 31

A RECORD OF THE WAR IN FAIRIE By Thayis of Phillipsburg, New Jersey

3/9/10

I have decided, finally, that it is time to begin cataloguing my experiences for the sake of those who come after. I watched the Children of Men in their youth, I survived the Great Fade, and I escaped the sack of Faerie. I have lived too long, as have all of those that see such times. I feel that my time is short. One does not walk with Death and not know when He is fast approaching on one's heels. The War will claim me, I can see through Second Sight, but the exact time is shrouded. And so I am pressed to chronicle my War with the Void, what I have done and where I have been, in the hopes that perhaps someone will pick up where I leave off. I was a fool in my political dealings. I decided to remain neutral in the Court Wars of Fairie, preferring to focus on my responsibilities guiding souls through the Labyrinth, regulating portals between worlds, and in what little spare time I had, wandering the secret ways of the Universe. I could truly not be bothered with the petty maneuverings of the Sidhe. I spent too much time away, and only came late to the knowledge that there were too many passages being opened to the Void. Even then, I was indifferent. I felt that this was merely the ebb and flow of the Universe; when you preside over Death in all its forms, you become acutely aware of the dual nature of existence, and you accept that negative will sometimes overcome positive, and tides will shift. I should have investigated more closely. I should have taken a side. I should have done something. And then there was the Great Fade. My frequent excursions to the Mortal World put me on the forefront of this plague. I sickened early

on, retreated to the far corners of Space, and fought the disease in a fevered dream. When I returned to myself, much time had passed, even in the considerably slow continuum of Faerie. The war was full blown. The Void beings had gained momentum, and it was too late to stop them. I frantically attempted to fight were I could, soon becoming exhausted by the Devouring of the Void that knows know sleep. I saw all of our sacred sites taken, defiled, and changed. At this point, I knew that to survive, we must abandon our homeland. At the edges of Fairie I created several large rifts to the Dreaming, and did not distinguish between my kindred. Seelie and Unseelie alike were allowed to pass, although I knew of some who created rifts that purposely left their antagonists behind. I considered this a betrayal of the cruelest kind. There is one great Death that I cannot bring myself to let be. I and my the Silent Brother have finally parted ways, and now turn toward each other in hostility. I cannot let him take Her. My home. My Love. My life. And so I have committed to the fight which no one wins.

3/13/10

The War that I record, many say is lost. We are not talking of the same conflict. This is MY War. And it's conclusion has yet to be seen. I speak rarely to other Dreams. I have little use for Visions. They are infuriatingly shortsighted and self centered, caring only for the upkeep of a homeland that they cannot or will not see beyond. In my travels I have tried to gather their motivations, and they are profoundly limited. Intrinsically experienced with Travel, they will not see that the holistic nature of the universe is such that if one plane is misbalanced, others WILL follow. I have explained this time and again to these creatures, and I am finished. I have been harassed, questioned, and in some cases assaulted. I advise them simply not to interfere with my doings. Go about blindly doing whatever it is you do, and leave me alone. I am not here more than I am here, and my people simply need a temporary holding facility. Then we will leave you in "peace".

I have never spoken to Mortals, and I doubt that I ever will. Simply because, in all my Travels, they have never had anything profound to say. Their irresponsibility resulted in the Great Fade, and I doubt even the contention that they have an ability to function at a higher spiritual level. It is in part, my failing that they are even in the Dreaming to begin with, and I am aware of that and take as much responsibility as is necessary. They are easily frightened, Profoundly unwise, and without exception base. When they have something interesting to say, then perhaps I will respond. Until then, I will remain silent. What are called dead gods here I have sought out, and they have been very helpful. heir information has been useful and their stories enthralling. Many seem to understand the plight of the Fae, as they themselves have been disenfranchised and are strangers in this strange land. I do not ask anyone outside the Kindred to assist in our War. It is ours to fight, but I am thankful with my whole being when others do provide assistance, be it great or small. I must return again to the Labyrinths. I have been cataloguing Goblin movements in and around Avalon. Momentary lapses are all that I can afford.

3/22/10

I stand upon a barren hill, a shadow in a dusty haze. The dark tatters of my robe flutter and snap as the sand harshly tears at my back. My great scythe has now become a crutch, that holds the weight of a broken heart. I gaze out over a great plain in the center of Fairie, where once the Immortal King held his court. The infinite expanse of the plain that was once a lush and beautiful forest is now something completely Other. At the center of my home plain there now is an undulating mass of darkness. The event horizon shatters the vivid light of Fairie into a thousand brilliant colors, colors that pulse with the essence of my world. In the middle is a vat of absolute darkness, spinning ever so slowly like a drain, dragging the world down into its horrific nothingness. One can almost hear it churning, like the vile acid of some cosmic gut, lazily devouring reality. Standing so near, I can feel its pull. It is 33

morbidly beautiful, and for all its horror I would be a liar if I said that it did not carry a seduction of its own. The Void is always calling. But here it is screaming at the top of its lungs, a passionate crescendo of destruction that one must arm against to not be mesmerized. This is the primary gate to the Void. I have traveled to the gates of the Afterlife. I am not allowed to venture beyond. And Here I now stand at the gate of Unlife. The void is the only other place that I am forbidden to go. The Void is not truly a place, after all. The Void, or so it is as I understand it, an emptiness without limit. The Void feeds on other planes out of necessity, out of intrinsic design. Imagine if you will, your home world as a great, heat filled balloon. The effect that the Void has on other worlds is the same as the effect that a hole has on that balloon, causing the heat to leak out of necessity from the area of high concentration to an area of low concentration. Not only does the Void draw out the essential vitality of the plain, but through some eldritch mechanic the plain is drawn to the Void, much as in nature it is perfectly sound for the heat to rush towards the hole in said balloon. Therefore, the void not only creates fear and loathing, but a euphoric attraction that even now gnaws at the very threads that keep the universe together. The Universe, it can be argued, wants to be devoured. And therein lies the true horror of the Void. I can bear its presence no longer. I must return to the Dreaming, and rest.

FROM SQUIRES CASTLE TO ARCADIA by Erekiteru Roen of Ohio

I was in the mood for sharing my company so I appeared at the gathering. I found that I quite enjoyed the company of all in attendance. We fought many duels, of which I won all I participated in. In fact i was awarded a boon for my fighting prowess. After this small but entertaining tournament the gathered individuals went off to attempt to save some friends. I thanked our host by guarding his lands in their absence. Perhaps, in a month's time or so, I will hold my own tournament. What a grand event it will be. Exarkin, Champion

The 21st of March found me returning to Squires Castle to witness the "invitation" of one Torlain, a Fae refugee, to his new home. Roughly ten of us gathered together that evening to explore the charming estates -- I provided a brief story about the final touches put on the castle, as a sort of subtle hint for what was to come. Aside from Torlain, there were two other Fae -- sisters named Kitanya and...Aedrila? Or something. I'll have to check the Aether. There was another Vision named Icarus, only newly born, as well as a Lost Soul who had just arrived in the Dreaming by way of falling off a cliff. There were Dead Gods in abundance: Exarkin of the British Isles, Tier of the Norse, and Hades and his

wife Persephone of the Underworld. We began the get-together with a sort of informal tournament. Exarkin stood undefeated amongst his peers, and was awarded the Champion's Boon by Torlain. After the bout of duels, Torlain announced that we would be having a Dreamwalk to rescue his Faerie brethren. Up to this point I had only insinuated that the Castle was not actually his, but when the Fae decided to make my home his base of operations for releasing monsters into the Dreaming, I had to speak up. I challenged him for control of the Squire's Castle, letting everyone know that the lands we stood on were rightfully mine. Torlain contended that when he arrived in the Dreaming, the Castle was empty, and remained that way for a good amount of time. I responded that I had been away -- just because I wasn't home for a month didn't mean the place was no longer owned. His counter was that he had made the effort to restore and defend his new territory, and having been forced from one home, he was not likely to leave another. He accepted my challenge and proposed that we have a match that demonstrated not only our prowess in combat, but also in strategy and leadership. Therefore, in two week's time, we will be having a game of living combat chess. It is our duty to muster whatever forces we can, which will represent pieces on our respective side of the board. The challenge accepted, we then moved on to the Dreamwalk. As he was still Warden of Squires, I could not prohibit him from his mission, but I certainly was going to do what I could to keep the Dreaming safe. Thus, I offered to serve as a guide on this Dreamwalk. As I was only a guide for this part of the evening, I will leave the tale telling to the actual heroes. Suffice to say, 2 Fae have been rescued, and there are more monsters in the Dreaming. Now I present my call to arms: Visions of the Land, if you are nearby, give me aid. Dead Gods -we Visions can assist in your return, we ask only that you help us in our own quests such as these. Lost Souls, you who wander without purpose, come to me, and I will give you a cause. Fae of the land: beware. You are refugees in the dreaming, and my heart goes out to your plight, but I will not let your war destroy a second world. If you wish 35

Exarkin lands a hit on Erekiteru to atone for your pasts and seek to prevent the mistakes that overran Faerie, I urge you to help me prevent one of your greedy brethren from keeping what does not belong to him. I remain, Erekiteru Roen

A Word from a Healer by Adeira of Ohio

The Gathering that I and my sister attended the night of last was...interesting. There seemed to be a consistent clash of egos, especially having so many Dead Gods in attendance. I really hope that these minor divisions in the venturing group will be quickly patched. I noticed that though many were fighters, they did not protect their healers. It may simply be too dangerous for I and my sister to travel with them. Many parties that I have traveled with in the past worked together and protected the ones who would save their lives. Perhaps this party is not in the need of my services and it was only trying to inform me of this in a very negative way. I know not. It was very nice to find one of my own again in Master Torlain. I wonder which of my kin he was once upon a time. Now it seems that my kind has changed so much. We have none of our distinguishing features anymore. And much of our Glamour has gone in the face of so much mundanity. It hurts my soul to think of it.

I hope that those we rescued are feeling all right in this new world we have brought them to. I remember my first days. They were full of confusion, fear and much pain and anguish. I hope that I can help them ease their grief, for I am sure that they do indeed grieve, not only for their lost homeland, but also the lost people. I hope that next gathering goes a bit smoother, and that this challenge is settled if not peaceably, then without bloodshed. I have never liked the sight of blood. It is something that should not be seeing the light of the sky, and being touched by the air we breathe. I have many hopes.

The Squire's Arena by Torlain of Ohio

Yesterday was March 21st, in the year 2010. It has been shortly over a month since I was forced out of my homeland, and the thought still gnaws at my heart. How I miss the lands of my birth. The beauteous glade that was my home. The woodland creatures that lived there. The brilliant blue pond, of a brilliant hue which is simply not duplicated in this land called The Dreaming… …my beloved children, born, sadly, into a war torn world which I fear claimed them in the end.. …my wife…tall, lithe, serene, mysterious, and hauntingly beautiful…a beauty I fear I may never know again. I now call this place home…it is not a beautiful as my last, however I shall defend It from every threat which befalls it. The Visions claim that with each of my kin we rescue from my homelands we bring more monsters to theirs…my allies and myself are prepared, however, to stand against them, and the more of my kind are freed, the more there are to combat this world’s threats. Thus I invited all who wished to join us for an evening to meet each other and test their skills in combat. To my Arena came a number of new faces, amongst them the Dead Gods Exarkin of the British Isles, Tyr of the Norse, and Hades; and his wife Persephone; of the Underworld. We also saw two Fae, Adeira and Kitanya, fellow refuges from our home.

There were two Visions, the natives of The Dreaming, The quiet Icarus and the outspoken Erekiteru Roen. There was, finally, a Lost Soul whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s name eludes me at the moment, who suffered an unfortunate cliffhanger in the story of his life, and found himself lost in The Dreaming. The strength of my allies, and those of Erekiteru Roen, was proven through a series of competitions in the Arena, of which the champion was the Dead God Exarkin. Soon after the tournament was concluded, I told everyone of a portal to my homeland within the Castle, and found that the assembled group was willing to aid me in rescuing some of my kin from Faerie. Within the portal was a twisted and sick landscape, nothing like the Faerie I remember, twisted by the Void beasts and the Unseelie, where the brilliant light of Faerie all but failed us, plunging us quickly into darkness. Goblins swarmed upon us from all angles, battling with untold ferocity, however we eventually dispatched the countless waves of twisted beings. As we celebrated our victory, however, the most monstrous goblin I have ever seen appeared out of nothingness, brandishing terrible weapons

and an unmatched martial prowess. While the minons which he called to him were no match for the group, who had become accustomed to slaying the cretins, this Goblin King took a concerted effort to slay. Eventually, however, when we were all but beated and broken, a great blow fell the beast and two of my kin appeared, freed from the twisted glamour that held them captive, and I am proud to say that 2 more Fae are free!

KNIGHTS OF THE OCEAN TOWER by Eckhart of Long Island

Six of us gathered in late March to rescue some of the Fae we knew to be trapped in the realm of Faerie. Sorcha, the only Fae among us currently, was growing unhappy without the presence of her kin and was very eager to lead us through the portal to her homeland, ravaged by war though it was. Once Shy'acky, Ishamel, Vucub, Thuul, Sorcha, and I crossed through, we were presented with bedazzling and bizarre world of Faerie. We crossed a violent black river into the land where we would do battle. Vucub and Thuul wandered off, and I couldn't tell you what they did while we were there, but shortly after they left we were set upon by many Goblins. Though weak, there was no shortage of them and it was all I could do to persuade my allies to stay near my Circle of Healing, for I had a sense that they would need its power once our true enemies found us. After the hordes of goblins were handily fended off, their king approached us and offered us a deal. I'm still not entirely sure what his bargaining position was, because his arguments seemed to consist of pointing out that Seelie Fae are tasty and that goblins are not. Negotiations were cut short by beating him up once he got bored with talking and started hitting things. The two Fae we rescued were, as one might imagine, very grateful to be released from goblin captivity and were eager to step through the portal, though it would take them away from their home for who-knows-how-long. In the end, I feel we did a good thing here. The world of Faerie was a most interesting place, if indeed perilous and at times frightening. I have seen some of the Dreams the Wakes inhabit, and it pains me to think that mortals, people I might have known in life, are having such dull dreams. The Fae are a fascinating people and their presence in the Dreaming is something I support, for the sake of those still living.

LAND WAR

There are certain places in the Dreaming where power concentrates. If one travels to one of these spots and meditates, he can collect some of that power. During this incarnation of the Dreaming, there were three key power grabs. Though these investitures, the Visions maintained their control over the Dreaming.

Visions Claim Cleveland by Erekiteru Roen of the Fiefdom of Cleve

The longer I reside in the Dreaming, the more of my memories return. I remember when I first met Patrick. There was a lot of smoke in the Waking world that day, and I followed its trail to the Stockyards of Cleveland. One of the freight boxes had caught flame, and a brave crew of firefighters were doing their best to put it out. The fire had weakened the support structures, however, and one of the walls collapsed, pinning two of the men. I could only watch as the falling debris sent them to their end. And then one of the men was standing next to me. As near as I can recall, it was the first time I had met a Lost Soul, and both Patrick and I were at a loss as to how he had come to enter the Dreaming. The two of us set about unraveling the mystery of his appearance, learning about the Labyrinth, the Guides, and how certain Souls sometimes didn't make it to where they were supposed to go. Patrick took the news hard. He had a wife and child in the world of Wakes, and had no idea if they'd end up where he was, or pass on. He determined to find a way to get to the Afterlife, or return to the waking, and set off on a journey. I haven't seen him since. This was over fifty years ago, yet I still remember the bravery and conviction that shone in that man's eyes. He knew the dangers of his job, but the chance to save lives outweighed the risks to his own safety. To the very end, he fought for a city he loved, and I decided that sort of loyalty ought to be remembered.

Thus, I entered the dreams of the Wakes and urged them to think of the eternal flame, the allconsuming force of fear that brave men and women fought against every single day, across the globe. I inspired them to remember those who had fallen in the service of safety. The Wakes responded, erecting a memorial to the firefighters. That monument now stands in the front courtyard of the Great Lakes Science Center -- an edifice to the power of the mind. The Center itself is situated between two other structures: the Cleveland Browns Stadium (an edifice of the body) and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (an edifice to the soul). Body and Soul, power and passion, joined together by the forces of the mind. Brought into action, these three powers can do great things, and I think it is fitting that such a shrine has been erected in the center of these buildings.

Southampton Windmill claimed by Lost Souls by Eckhart of Long Island

This windmill out here on the island almost seems out of place in the Dreaming. Since I lost my way to the Afterlife I have tried to grow accustomed to the idea that things which were necessary in the world of the living no longer have relevance in the Dreaming... and yet here is a windmill, a construct of necessity, built by mortal humans for reasons which only matter to those living. It's a reminder of the life we used to have, where we needed to work to get the things we needed, like food and manufactured goods. What purpose could a wind-powered rotary device have in world like this, where anything it might be used to produce could just as easily be conjured up out of nowhere? It seems like a whimsy built by the Visions for their own amusement, but it reminds me of the living world, so I claim it for the Lost Souls.

Visions Seize Key Territory by Shy'acky Strotas of Long Island

As a Vision it's my responsibility to protect the dreaming, this spot is perfect for a defensive line to protect the dreaming. It will not fall to anyone so long as I'm alive. I've held onto this place since the beginning, and I have no intention of losing it. The bench is a new addition it's for those who aren't on sentry duty. Those on sentry duty may use it but only if they wish to be removed from duty. As such I claim this place in the name of the Visions.

From left to right: Cardinal, Vinny, Juppa Wup, Tepes, Todash I'm sorry that I have to do this. I stand on the back porch of the feast hall, facing the forest, my eyes searching the shadows for movement. There is something back there, and it's been watching me. It knows that I know it is there too, so now we've been playing a waiting game. There are ruins in the woods behind the house, ruins which predate the Native Americans. I used to walk back there every day, but ever since the portals opened, I don't dare go back there without a party. The goblins don't worry me too much. I can fell them in a single swing. But there is something by Cardinal else back there, something biding its time and waiting. I am worried that it is a demon. And I am worried that it is waiting for reinforcements. The portal must be closed, before this gets worse. It pains me to do it, because I know there are still innocent fae who still refuse to leave their

SLAYING ANOTHER PORTAL

world. I wish them no harm. I wish they could come through the gate so we could protect them. But I can't leave the door between the worlds open when such beasts keep coming through. Last night, I gathered up a few of the Dreams I know so that we could put an end to this. So we hiked through the Dreamscape, until we came to that old hermit. He reminded us of the path to find the portal - Unterwatch Road. So many creatures infest this area now. As we traveled along Unterwatch road, we

Vinny landing a hit on the portal fought imps and goblins. Pesky little creatures with murder on their mind. Our Guides shuddered as the shade spirits took over their body. It's always strange fighting your friends during these journeys, but they aren't really your friends. Your friends spirits are hidden somewhere while the Shades use your friends' bodies like a marionette. I much prefer fighting the goblins to the imps. The only challenging thing about the goblins is that there are so many of them. The imps, however, know a little sorcery, a little archery, or have figured out a decent weapon style. They're tricksy little creatures. Eventually, we came to the portal. I could hear it hum as the gate sensed our hostility. It manifested into Tepes' body and stood before us, powerful and unwavering. It did not want to be closed, and it would try to slay us. Vinny landed some good hits on it, but the portal is incredibly strong. When I think back on this fight, the only sound I remember is the hum of the portal and the snickering of the goblins in the woods all around us. They thought the gate would make short work of us. I squinted at the portal manifestation, declaring him as my nemesis. My mind burned with anger at this entity. As we circled around each other, something clicked. This fight was for keeps - him or us. My friend Asher didn't join us on the dream walk; he was documenting our journey

The Shades use your friends' bodies like a marionette.

It did not want to be closed, and it would try to slay us.

for the Archive. As the fight climaxed, he looked at the camera with confusion - it was as if he could see all of our emotions on our skin. Apparently, sometimes dreams photograph in odd colors. This is one of those times. Todash and I managed to pincer the entity. I hacked at it with my pole arm while todash peppered it with spell and sword. As we struck the final blow, the entity let out a final gasp. It sounded like a hurricane blowing through an open window, suddenly shut. Victory! We said a few quiet words for the Fae, and made our way back, in silence, to the feast hall.

THE BATTLE OF OHIO

Two armies gathered in Cleveland, Ohio. One was led by the Satyr Torlain, the other by the Vision Eriketeru. They would battle over possession of Squire Castle, a powerful fortress situated at the heart of the Dreaming. All eyes were on the castle as Visions and Fae jockeyed for position. Their dispute would be resolved by a game of chess...

A call to arms by Torlain

Erekiteru Roen claims that these lands are his. I respect that he has a good and valid reason to challenge me for it. I stated the terms of the challenge- a contest which befits the leader of any territory- a contest of skill, intelligence, perseverance, patience, strategy, martial prowess, and, most of all, leadership. The challenge is chess. Chess, however, hardly befits the transition of ownership of an Arena as large and imposing as Squires Castle. Thus the challenge is- Living Combat Chess! That’s right, come to my banner, downtrodden Fae, overlooked Lost Souls, forgotten Gods, and generous and understanding Visions. To my people, the Fae, I hope that you would come to my aid to champion our cause! We must rescue our brethren from the evil clutches that hold them, and a portal to Faerie stands right here in the lands we fight over! To the Visions of this world, I know that

there are those of you who are sympathetic to our plight! Know that we mean The Dreaming no harm- we will defend these lands, as they are the only home we have left. Fight beside us, not against us, that together we may make a difference in this world. To those Lost Souls who wander these lands, be lost no more! There is a just and righteous cause to follow, the rescuing of innocent Fae trapped in a war torn land! How long before you are no more welcome in these lands than the Fae seem to be? Show the Visions that we mean to aid these lands, not harm them, and that my kin deserve a chance at a new life! We will fight the beasts and monsters of these lands, along with the aid of my fellow Fae still trapped in Faerie! To the Gods in the Dreaming, I ask you to consider your stance in this contest, if any. Erekiteru Roen claims that his people can offer you much worship and strength, but have they? If they have, then why, oh why, have you not yet returned to your former glory? My people are sick, downtrodden, and lost, and they would treat us as they do? Perhaps, it would seem, the same way they have treated you? Your people and mine have a commonality- we seek the chance to become strong again. We seek a second chance. My people shall look for sheppard’s, protectors, and strength in these new lands. I beseech you, stand glorious upon the battlefield, and remind our foes that YOU ARE GODS! Not former Gods, lost Gods, forgotten Gods, or dead Gods, but GODS! All who would stand behind my people in their attempt to survive, please, come to Squire’s Castle when the call to arms is raised. We need capable men and women of all races, and our people, myself especially, shall never forget your support. I am here now, Torlain of the Fae

The Arrival of Icarus

Songline

of the Butcher

by Icarus

I awoke outside squires castle to the unexpected noise of visitor to my homeland. The first of many I met was someone that in which the shared the same life force I was created from. Vision He taught me of the fae and the monsters they Erekiteru bring to our land from their own which is seeks to be currently war torn. If they could not stop slain by the protect their own land what gives them to right monster called the to claim my land for themselves. I also met 4 Butcher, to dead gods, one that called himself god, and Tier complete a a self claimed god of battle, then Hades and ritual of Persephone. power The one that called himself god and Tier faced off in a duel the tension rose and it was a Butcher... standoff for a few minutes or so until the one can you hear me? calling himself god made the first move and it went back and forth for a bit but god was I have an victorious in the end. There were a few of the offer for you... monster bringers called fae that had arrived there as well. I spoke into the Aether, and the Butcher One of them, Torlain, had claimed the came. The deal I was prepared to make was a castle as his. The other of my kind eventually simple one: I wished to perform the Ashes of stated that the castle belonged to him. Eriiteru the Phoenix ritual, and he (she? it?) wished to said he had owned the castle since before he kill. In exchange for performing, from what I've arrived in the Dreaming. There was a challenge been told, a very painful, agonizing murder, he over the territory and the terms of the would aid me in the completion of the ritual. All challenge was a live combat chess match, I ask he had to do was say the words. any of those that not wish monsters in this May you rise from your ashes. land join our army. The deal was struck. I set about preparing the ritual, enchanting the weapon that would deliver the killing blow. As I cast the necessary runes, I stole glances at the individual who stood mutely before me, and saw...nothing. No hatred, no malice, no love, no fear. The shadows gathered around the Butcher, and for all my years of observations, I could sense, could percieve not a single thing about this killer. I've only encountered one similar entity: the Void. The person who stood before me seemed to embody it. The ritual was finished, and I handed over the weapon, then lay on the ground. The Butcher did not hesitate in raising the blade, driving it through my gut. 45

me when I least expected it, and when I did not want him to. As he could not do that the first time, he chose to kill me twice so he could have the satisfaction of surprise. So I was painfully disemboweled twice. At least I got what I wanted out of it. Stand ready, Torlain. I will take back what is rightfully mine.

I lay there dying, expectantly awaiting the next words. But I didn't hear them. Instead, the sound of soft laughter floated in the air -- the sound of a madman playing the cruelest trick of all. Sure enough, the death was a painful one, and I did not rise again till the next day. I was understandably upset at my bad luck, and spent the next day in a foul mood. I had kept my end of the bargain, the Butcher did not. But I was wrong before, and I was to be proved wrong again. That night, I awoke from my slumber to see him standing over me, a twisted grin on his lips as he completed the ritual, before driving the blade deep into my body. And this time, as I died, I heard the words. May you rise from your ashes. A word to the wise: The Butcher how he sees fit, and when he sees fit. He desired to kill

Torlain found aid amongst his people. Erekiteru ritually strengthened himself. Both armies gathered forces for several weeks, until the fateful day of the Chess Match...

The Chess Match by Erekiteru Roen

And so it came for Torlain and I to struggle against one another for control of the Castle. Weeks ago, we agreed to meet on the field of battle, pitting our might and our minds in a game of living combat chess. The day arrived, we assembled our forces, and the competition commenced. Roughly sixteen denizens of the Dreaming arrived for this event. Approximately eight of us took to each side of the board, playing non-pawn pieces. The pawns were played by Shades -- a troop of weak and simple-mind Goblins who were eager for a chance to deal even one blow to those assembled. The format for the game was as follows: - Standard chess rules applied, with the noted exceptions. 47

- When two pieces met at the same square, a duel was fought. The winner kept the square. This meant that sometimes the piece attempting to claim the spot was not always the victor. It also meant that the kings (who were moving the pieces) had to be judicious in who moved where. - Less combat-oriented players still had a chance to shine on the board, as they were permitted to use their healing and buffing skills on pieces adjacent to them. Likewise, zone barriers (such as the Vision's ability to Sunder the Dreaming and the Shaman's power to set up a circle of Force) were also permitted. If a player could not traverse the distance from one square to the next due to these powers, the king had to select a different piece to move. - Any defending piece could ask for a champion to fight in his or her stead. However, if the champion was also playing a piece still on the board and lost, then both his piece and the defending piece were removed. This meant that

pieces that were already removed were called in as champions a great many times. - The game ended when the king of one side was defeated, not simply put in checkmate. This meant that a properly equipped king could conceivably take the entire board by himself, with a bit of skill and luck. I employed the use of Tyr, the one-handed Dead God, to the fullest extent. My initial strategy of using him as the Queen and putting him immediately within range of the king after two moves was effective, but alas, he was not able to actually take Torlain. After Tyr's fall, he spent a great deal of time championing other members on the board -- there were many who were not able or willing to engage in combat. Many Fae and Lost Souls joined Torlain's side of the board, where my side saw a number of Dead Gods and Visions. Battle after battle ensued,

but ultimately, my side managed to persevere, thanks in no small part to an as-yet-unnamed Vision Slayer who expertly wielded a great weapon. Squire's Castle is now mine once more, and I will Shape it to tell the tale of the legends that surround it. Though I did not think to announce it before, it is my intent to name Torlain as Guardian of the Castle. He showed great courage, skill, and might in our conflict, and as he has already set up his home at Squire's, I could think of few other I would have to defend the place. Whether or not he will accept this position remains to be seen. Still, that which was taken from me is mine again. The Dreaming seeks its own balance.

With the conclusion of the living chess match, Torlain and Erekiteru's dispute was settled. Erekiteru took the throne, but Torlain was content to live in the castle garden. This compromise illustrated that perhaps Fae and Visions could coexist. There was still grim work to do. Two portals to Faerie remained. One stood at Squire's Castle, in Ohio, the other was near Cardinal's House in Connecticut. Demons had been sighted lurking around the portals. The Visions were of one mind - the portals must be closed, no matter the cost, lest the Dreaming be corrupted like the Fae world had been.

REBECCA SQUIRE by Erekiteru Roen

As we gathered together again at the Castle, a howling, unearthly shriek echoed across the lands, sapping away the health of everyone who heard it. It seemed as though Rebecca was awake again. In the world of the Waking, Rebecca Squire was the wife of the castle's owner. According to legend, she tripped and broke her neck in the castle's trophy room, and has haunted it ever since. This is not actually the case -- she died several cities away -- but legends have a habit of becoming reality in the Dreaming. What (even who) Rebecca was remains a mystery. She should be considered a Lost Soul, but behaves as though she were a Shade. Her powers are unlike any other I have seen. Indeed, I vaguely recall facing off against her some thousand years ago, long before the actual Rebecca Squire was born. This is the form she has chosen, however, so Rebecca she will be called. Although I do not remember how I dealt with her those many ages ago, I did keep a journal of my experience, and managed to locates several pages out of that journal, which I shared with those gathered. Based on hints and riddles, one Fae Shaman puzzled out a cryptic message: "With the lizard, she watches over the castle." Before we set off to find Rebecca, it was decided that a new territory -- a feast hall -would be set up. There was a picnic area next to the castle, and we grilled some burgers there, enjoying each other's company as we ate. At the end of our feasting, Torlain offered up a toast, and we felt our lost health come back to us. It was decided that this new territory would be his. There are several trails behind Squire's Castle, and there is a map that marks each trail with an icon. The party found one trail marked with a picture of a lizard, and we set off to find our nemesis. When we arrived at the marker, we did not find Rebecca. Instead, we found a bag, containing a silver locket, which the Fae Shaman picked up. As soon as she did so, she passed out, stood up again, and shuffled about, her head tilted to

one side as though she had a broken neck. Calling herself Rebecca, she began throwing magic spells at us. We fought back, but it appeared our weapons and magic simply passed right through her. The Shaman's sister, a sorceress named Kitanya, did not want to leave the possessed Fae behind, but we did not want to die at her hands, either. I drew a line on the ground and declared that the Dreaming was sundered there. This kept Rebecca from coming any closer to us, but she could still throw magic auras our way -- we continued to dodge them while deciding what to do next. Unfortunately, when I drew the line, a Dead God named Tyr got stuck on the other side. He had already been knocked out by Rebecca's magic, and when he came to, she stood over him, demanding he kneel before her and receive her mark. We watched Tyr start to kneel, then quickly spring away, retreating down the trail and back around to meet up with us. The onslaught of magic became too much for us, so we decided to retreat into the castle itself. It seemed that Rebecca was unable to follow us inside, so we took to looking for clues on how to defeat her within and around the castle. We found none, and while we searched, Tyr was knocked out again -- and this time he was slain. Rebecca infused his lifeless corpse with that of a Shade, which we saw kneel before the specter and receive her mark. This mark seemed to give the Shade some new and unusual powers. First, he was able to enter the castle -- a safe zone -- and fight us. Second, his swings became more damaging. Thirdly, because he was able to fight us in the castle, Rebecca gained the ability to throw magic auras through the castle windows. She still could not enter, but the zone somehow became a Haunt. The Shade chased us through the castle, forcing us near windows, while Rebecca attacked us from without. Some Wake children happened by during all of this, and Rebecca commissioned them to join us as Shades, granting them the mark also. Things seemed bleak for our crew, as we were low on health and the young Shades were much too energetic for us to run away from. Luckily, Rebecca's hold over the Shaman was not a permanent one, and a half hour after being

possessed, she regained her senses. The Fae did not remember the events that transpired, and we quickly filled her in on what had happened, and how she slew Tyr. Mysteriously, the locket she had picked up before had vanished.

Shut the Portal

The portal we had visited to rescue the Fae needed closing. I convinced those gathered that since we did not find any more Fae the last time we went through that particular portal that it would be wise to close it now, lest more monsters travel through it. There would be other portals, I felt, but this one had served its purpose. So the party set off to find the Portal Cleaver. He was a Vision with a grand and majestic-sounding name that was hard to pronounce. If I can remember how to spell it I'll mention it later. We just called him Steve-O. We had to fight our way through three waves of Imps to get to Steve-O, who told us that the node that powered the portal had to be destroyed in order to close said portal. To get to that portal, we had to travel along Griswald's Edge. As we walked along this road, we encountered a strange area. The ground seemed to sap the life out of us. There were rocks we could jump across, but they lead to nothingness...for now. There were also two boxes, one that contained keys, and one that was empty. We determined that we needed to move the keys to the other box so that we could move forward. As we stepped onto this field, Imps appeared and began to attack us -- they did not seem to be affected by the ground, so it was difficult to avoid them. We needed to finish our task quickly. Since we could only hold one key at a time, we came up with the idea of forming a line across the rocks. One person would grab a key and hand it off to the next person. In this fashion, we could carry all four keys quickly to the other box, without having to come back and forth. We took our lumps from the Imps (the spell casters slowed and rooted the Imps so they could not get to us very quickly), and soon a new part of the road appeared. We set off towards our final destination. 51

The Portal hummed with energy, and as we approached it, it turned into a person! It called forth Imps to help defend it. The Portal Defender must have been watching us as we worked on the zone with keys, because when the Shaman slowed the Imps this time, the Defender simply killed the imp, so it could come back and move quickly again. Likewise, the sorceress was unable to root the Defender, as he was comprised of skills that allowed him to sidestep magic auras twice! This foiled our plan of rooting him with the expectation that he'd sidestep, and then rooting him again. Kitanya the Sorceress's lightning spell did not go to waste, however, nor did our Slayer's use of her Nemesis power. When we had taken a great deal of damage, we gathered close to our Shaman, who put up a circle of force around her circle of healing, enabling her to heal us quickly and safely so we could return to the fight. Soon, the Defender lay dead. Steve-O came out to congratulate us, and we headed home.

When the big people came

by an Imp Hey, big person! Listen to story Tuk-Toni see with Tuk-Toni eyes! It about other big people come through big shiny shiny and kill us! We not like die, but we come back! Now not go back again, cause no big shiny shiny to walk into and go other place! We find new big shiny shiny, we hope! We safe-makers of big shiny shiny, tuk-tori, lum-din and ugg-thom. Big shiny shiny swirly shiny that walks into new place, green leafy place with cold grey tall thing hear people call " Squares Casele" We being eye closed and loud sound making when big people come down long path and make eyes open. Tuk-Toni say we wait and jump out when they not think us there. Tuk-Toni lot mindyer than others and others listen to Tuk-Toni's big thinker. Tuk-Toni hit big people real good, but had bad time when big people start making talky and throwing weird bright that make safe-makers heavy or not move. Soon all safe-makers die so many times Tuk-Toni think we run, let them think

they win. We go back to big shiny shiny and hope big people not find. If they find, they need get past burnydirt, so we be safe. Not long before big people find burny-dirt, and safe-makers make things harder when we say boo and jump out, cause Tuk-Toni big thinker and tell safe-makers to. Tun-Toni big thinker had nother smarty thing killing other safe-makers is good! When other safe-maker get heavy or not move, Tuk-Toni kill it, cause we not stay killed long and come back good and fast! Had run soon, though. Big people mindy-er than Tuk-Toni and kill all so many times we run to big shiny shiny again. They find us and big shiny shiny change to be big deathy-maker and help safe-makers, but too many big people - we almost kill, but then shiny bubble of no-pass come up near big people until they feel better, and they kill us. We wait for new chance, though! Find new big shiny shiny and make dead big people! Big thinker ouch from too much talky now, big people go way! Wait...put way big stabby stabby...

CARDINAL RULES by Cardinal of Connecticut

Tepes and I were going to attend the gathering in Rye, but couldn't get in touch with Xidian Pan. So instead, we gathered some dreams to make progress towards our respective goals. Anybody who knows Tepes knows that he is an angry god. But he is also a god of forgiveness. Something had been brewing inside Tepes for a while now, and I'm still not sure whether it was rage or temperance. Tepes can tell the story better than I can, but his temperament has roots in ancient times. Once upon a time, when Tepes reigned over the waking world, he had a small but savage tribe of followers. He would grant them his rage during battle, and they were always sure to raise a glass to him at every meal. But over time, they began to forget this tradition. One day, Tepes finally snapped, and sent wolves to devour them. Only his last follower, who is now known as Thompson, remained. Tepes appeared before Thompson, and I'm not entirely sure what was exchanged between them, but it ended with Tepes striking down his last follower. With no mortal worshipers left, he was forgotten, and passed from the Divine Spheres into the Dreaming. I imagine he felt very remorseful. To this day, Tepes carries around Thompson's skull. Tepes uses it as his altar, his last point of contact with his former glory. Tepes feels weird about it. I can never tell what's going on under the surface with him. But something needs to be resolved.

The Enemy Divine

A fae named "Bob", (who used to be called Juppa Wup) and a god named Vinny arrived to help out. Vinny and I would be guides. I volunteered to host Thompson's spirit in my body. When the Dream Walk began, my mind was replaced by Thompson's. I immediately felt angry - how could Tepes betray me? Now I had an opportunity to pay him back. Traditionally, we would drink to Tepes in thanks for a good battle. But I was slain by Tepes in my last battle, so clearly I would not be toasting to him. The shade besides me took a knee, and I poured out the libations which I would have normally dedicated to Tepes. Because fuck that guy! In the distance, I saw the deity I used to worship. Since my defeat, my skull has been dropped, kicked, spilled on, and even sexually defiled by Tepes' enemies. So I definitely wanted to kick his ass. Tepes gave Bob his blessings, and they prepared themselves for the horrible beatings. And then we clashed. I declared Tepes as my nemesis and slashed at him with my pole arm. He parried the blow and laid into me with a flurry. Bob peppered me with arrows while backpedaling, using his pinning shot to keep my follower rooted in place. After a grueling battle, I was cut down by Tepes. My follower made a valiant last stand, but was felled as well. The victors walked over to the libations I had spilled and smashed the chalice. My altar destroyed, I was released from the Dreaming. Tepes and I spoke briefly, but when I became Cardinal again, I couldn't remember what we said. I'd like to think that Thompson was forgiven. Tepes has two sides, anger and forgiveness, and I wonder which one summoned Thompson that day. We may never know whether the two reconciled. But at least Tepes feels a bit more closure regarding his exit from the Waking World.

Close the Portal

The sound of goblins surrounded us. The forest was filled with a mischievous snickering. Another portal must have opened near by. Vinny and I set out to close it. Bob, being a fae himself, would not assist us, so he and Vinny became Guides. They waved goodbye to us and wandered off, where they would be possessed by the Goblin spirits. Vinny and I fought our way through the goblins and eventually found the Vision who could point us at the portal. We trekked through the dangerous swamp, hopping from rock to rock as the Goblins rushed at us. In the distance, we could hear the humming of the portal. As we approached the gate, we heard the all too familiar sound of it manifesting. The portal spirit entered Tepes' body and he squared off with us. Luckily, I had saved my energy for this battle. I called out the portal, declaring it as my nemesis. Vinny handled the Goblins and kept the Portal Manifestation from pincering me. As my divine companion engaged the portal and drew him back, I circled around, flanking him with a flurry of fierce blows. I lunged forward with my strongest attack, but the portal deftly parried it. Him and I swung at each other over and over again, but I finally dropped him with a solid thrust to his shoulder. As the portal lay dead on the ground, the maddening din of goblins was finally silent.

Capture the Flag

We decided to lighten the mood a bit with a round of capture the flag. A wake wandered in who thought this dream looked like fun, so he allowed his body to be the vessel for a forgotten god. Bob and I teamed up against Tepes and the wake. We decided that the stakes for this match were that the losers would have to address the winners as WARLORD for the rest of the day. Bob had retrained as a sorcerer, and used his gun to fire bolts of magic. He cast an evocation called Tanglefoot on our foes, which prevented them from running. This turned out to be an excellent attack for a capture the flag game. Without being able to run, our opponents needed to play a very defensive game. We all needed to respawn a few times, during the match, but it was a good game. Bob and I were victorious, and accepted the title of WARLORD.

THIS CONCLUDES the events of the Dreaming's 2010 Alpha Test. I hope it was nearly as fun to read as it was to experience. The Dreaming is not running at the time of this publication (August 2010), but there are plans to give it a new coat of paint and run it again soon. I wanted to create a game which was very accessable, and I was very pleased with how well technology could facilitate new kinds of gaming. Traditionally, Live Action Role Playing Games require you to seek out an established group in your region. You may have to buy a costume and commit to a weekend of camping before you even know if it's fun. Many people would love to play games like this, but no group exists nearby. By coordinating the game via a social networking site, people were able to meaningfully affect plotlines no matter where in the world they lived. There are even a few "LARP Solitaire" adventures if you haven't got an adventuring community in your region yet. If you're interested in the Dreaming, feel free to contact me at dan.comstock@gmail.com. I haven't secured a permanent website yet, but in the meantime you can find information at http://cramul.us, my blog. If you just want to start playing, you can check out the rulebook at http://principiadiscordia.com/cramulus /index.php?title=DreamingTOC. Keep me updated, I'd love to hear about your adventures. Dan Comstock, August 2010