TSW 11: Kasra's Dream

IcePickLobotomy	Time: ??? Location: ???
IcePickLobotomy	You slowly awaken, laying inside a crater of burnt and blasted dirt. The sword still in your grip.
Kasra	catuiously stands up to survey the situation.
IcePickLobotomy	The angel is dead. You can see the broken and shattered core strewn across the land-scape, adding to the further devastation. Arrows litter the area, and from the notches on your sword, it was a hard fought battle. You ache, burns and bruises liberally dotting your form.
Kasra	(Okay, I was hoping steam would get it's shit together, but its not happening, so I'm doing this. So, like. Kasra still never calls them angels, so I'm seeing a legit angel, white wings, androgenous, heavenly plate mail and all that butchered across the ground. Is that correct?)
IcePickLobotomy	(Nope. And I know Kasra doesn't call them Angels, this is a intentional choice by me and there is a reason why I am calling them angels in the narration. Also it's the last Intruder you ought.)
Kasra	climbs to the lip of the crater to look beyond the battle damage.
IcePickLobotomy	It's as your remember it. A fertile valley surrounded by wooded mountains. The Archer is leaned against a piece of debris, inspecting his bow.
Kasra	"Hello again." Kasra gestures to the valley. "It's a good sign that somethings left."
IcePickLobotomy	"It is. There's always the ability to rebuild so long as the earth still lives."
Kasra	"So...what now?"
IcePickLobotomy	"My duties and are not the same I think." He looks over, past the mountains. "You could continue your journey west," he motions to the trail "Or you could go north, to the capital." He gestures to the road.
IcePickLobotomy	"My duties and are not the same I think." He looks over, past the mountains. "You could continue your journey west," he motions to the trail "Or you could go north, to the capital." He gestures to the road.
Kasra	"Well, I think it might be nice to head to the capital. Maybe I can...I don't really know." Kasra hefts the remains of his sword. "Ask politely for new equipment."
IcePickLobotomy	Kasra: it's dinged, and notched here and there, but still has a sharp edge to it.
Kasra	After a moment, Kasra shrugs. "It will probably survive a few more fights. And who am I to not play along? You said I was journeying west, right?"
IcePickLobotomy	"Well, you were on the trail which goes west."
IcePickLobotomy	"I assumed you were traveling west."
Kasra	"Then west I go. Good luck out there." Kasra offers a hand after sheathing the sword.
IcePickLobotomy	The Archer takes it and gives it a firm shake. His hands are heavily calloused, but warm. "You as well. Past the mountains is the Black-Sand desert. Follow the setting sun, or so that's what they say."
Kasra	"You seem to know better than I do." After hefting what passes for his kit, Kasra sets out. "Here's hoping we both make it to where we're going!"
IcePickLobotomy	"Travel well young knight."
IcePickLobotomy	Kasra: You travel through the day, the night and for most of the next day, fatigue and failing to tire. The valley turns from farmland to woods, and then from woods to mountainous rocky terrain. As the trail crests, you see the desert he spoke of. A endless expanse of jet black sand in stark contrast to the brilliant colors of the setting sun.
Kasra	"Pretty." There's nothing to do but walk.
IcePickLobotomy	And so you do. Climbing down the mountain, into a dry heat so intense the temperature change a physical blow. Rocky ground gives way to a fine black sand. By now the sun is almost set, lighting the sky above you in a deep pink, heading to orange as your view heads to the horizon. Your shadow stretches long, barely visible against the sands.
IcePickLobotomy	You walk. And walk. The sun remains unchanged. Hours, days, weeks, years maybe. You can't tell. Time loses it's meaning.
IcePickLobotomy	You notice it when you crest a large dune. In the distance, a faint distortion, like static on a old worn film. The shimmer and shifting of sand.
Kasra	"What's a bit longer?"
IcePickLobotomy	It grows closer, the static distortions growing with it. A faint pressure, and a crackling sound begin to accompany it. The sand begins to pick up, turning from a slight disruption to a rolling mass of black sand whipping about the air. It's still a ways away from you, but is coming closer.
Kasra	hunches lower to the ground covering his eyes with his forearm and presses on
IcePickLobotomy	The first few flecks of sand are nothing. The ones after that little more than a nuisance. But the sand moves faster, more dense, agitating your skin. There is a feeling of deep pressure, the hiss of static more a roar, and the distortions before you intermixing with the black sand into a indistinguishable mass of static and sand.
Kasra	The sensation begins to feel slightly familiar, and with mounting anxiety, Kasra presses on
IcePickLobotomy	The sand is painful now. You feel something wet dripping along your arm. You catch sight of something, a flash of emerald green not to far from you before it disappears back into the sandstorm. Despite the sand's movement, there is no wind.
Kasra	grunts, draws his sword and attempts to slog as quickly as he can through the maelstrom.
IcePickLobotomy	The green light grows stronger. You are almost in reach.
Kasra	"Come...here..." Despite knowing nothing about the nature of the glow, Kasra reaches out for it.
IcePickLobotomy	There's a brief feeling of weightlessness, as a unseen force snatches you up in the air, arcing you around the core. You impact the ground hard, the softness of the sand meaning little to the force of your landing as it drives the wind from your lungs and a dull pain across your chest.
Kasra	attempts desperately to slash at his unseen malefactor.
IcePickLobotomy	Your arm is yanked out of the way, the same force turning your blow away from the core, and spinning you around.
Kasra	kicks in a mad effort to extricate himself.
IcePickLobotomy	It picks you back up, slamming you into the ground. Harder this time.
Kasra	"Wh-why would you,uh, have to?"
IcePickLobotomy	No response. It picks you up again, slamming your through a dune. You feel the skin on your back abrade away. The static roars again, the light shifting from emerald green to a baleful gold.
IcePickLobotomy	It pauses, the sand lashing around you aimlessly as it waits.
Kasra	Between the pressure and the assault, Kasra looses conciousness.
IcePickLobotomy	And he dreams. He dreams of strange vistas and starless skies.