AWAKENING THE DREAMER

Part I - A Catalyst

The Masked Merchant stood silent in the cradle between two windswept dunes, staring at a place nestled between them as if it held some sort of significance. He had only just returned here; but now he was waiting.

He has slept long enough.

Skahan was no doubt en route. His services would be needed, but there was little point in hurrying. There was, after all, something else they first required. Astraea had explained that he would canvass the Gembounds. Spread rumors, request aid. They were useful for minor tasks, it seemed to Hag-rteho. And now that he himself was back within the caves, he would wait here for them: for the rumors to spread. For the "come and help, and be rewarded." Once they were here he would give them their tasks.

Will his chains still bind him?

The main task would not be unfamiliar to them. They had required similar, once before, merely to open the door to Hydra--and the Gembounds had provided. How would this compare?

The magic that flowed here was strong. It was almost enough. But a catalyst would be required to jump-start the final awakening. And gathering enough for that catalyst-... it would take time.

So here he stood, silent, a black figure staring at a valley of hot sand, waiting for them.

---

The quest Awakening the Dreamer - Part I has begun! Anyone may join this thread. The next post will take place in one week's time.

V-Zoisite-One stepped out of Tunnel P into the blistering false-sun of Hydra. The warmth was welcome on its body, fueling it as it made the trek across the sands. It had never stepped foot into the perilous desert before; before it would have been a death sentence. Things had changed in the caves, however, and the latest Trial had made Hydra... habitable? It did not know the details. Only had heard the rumors.

The rumors were indeed what brought it here. Having told its Master, it arrived here with one focused goal: to answer the call and provide help. (Did part of it hope that it would involve bringing water and plant-life to the driest cave in all of the world? Perhaps.) It picked its way across the shifting sand, slowly growing more accustomed to how it had to move to not sink or slip as the earth gave way underneath it.

"V-Zoisite-One," it declared stiffly, once it had reached the cloaked figure in the sands. "Here on behalf of the Chaos Forge, and of Master Vargas, to provide aid."

To be useful, to help, to make the world a better place. Those were hopes and dreams that made their spirit soar-- but right now, in this moment, the task laid out before it. It had no ambitions. It was ready to work, to get its talons deep into the sands and get things done.

The wind whipped through its quills, blustering sand into its nostrils and eyes. It squinted against the breeze, and tried to contain its cough and nearly bit its own tongue as it sneezed.

Garnet-Epsilon

It has been far... far too long since I have been awake. The small hybrid muses to themselves, winging carefully over the sand in Hydra.

The fact that they're in Hydra, the cave specifically designed as a crucible to allow only the best and brightest... or luckiest, to escape, indeed does not escape them. Part of them hopes that they can manage to not be in any sort of trouble upon their return to Draco, long nap in their gem or not.

Maybe, they muse, circling around Zoizite, I can gather some useful information on how everyone in this cave interacts. Family units, the like. Possibly revive my old name- no. Disguise.

They remain in mid-air, thankful in only mild part for the heat making lovely thermals to glide on and not much else as they analyze the Masked Merchant, and offer their best bow from mid-air that they can manage.

"Greetings. I come to assist as well." a small, concerned noise at Zoizite's sneeze-tongue-snack... attack over there.

"V-Zoizite-One, are you quite alright? That sounded painful. A tip I learned in the Tunnel just outside- tilt your nose down, so that sand will blow past and not in. Takes some getting used to."

He was not keen to return to these familiar sands - the scorching heat was unmistakable. This was where Reverend had been run ragged and his eyes taken from him. It did not feel safe here, even with the Merchant having declared that trial a success.

But it was here all the same. If it were to die, would it not be poetic for his final resting place to be one that hurt him so before, luring him back like the sea lures back a wizened sailor?

The glow of the bauble on his staff and the rattling of chains and bells announce his arrival as he clambers over the sanddune. "We have come. Is this another Trial? I am not eager to brave the Eyehooks once again," Reverend states, a croaking horse voice.

Its ears prick, listening to the slightest shift in the sands. Not just for the others, inevitably drawn with the call for help, but also sandwyrms prowling below.

Maybe fate will be kind this time.

She remembered the last time she had been here - faintly, however, as it had been...ah, too long. She hadn't even seen her tenth cycle when she had assisted in opening the cave for the first time. Waves of memories threatened to invade her calm, which she staved off with a flick of her mind. She was getting better at it.

She was hesitant to step foot into the sands, remembering them to be dangerous, but the request for aid had come with a promise - Hydra no longer threatened every step. Well, she would put her faith in the whispered words and her backup faith in her own abilities. Probably not the best idea, but she had done more foolish things.

As she approached the place where the Masked Merchant waited, she paused. She had almost forgotten him, his appearance. Another distant memory from childhood, but one that actually brought a wave of...fondness. He had been the one to teach the gembound of the wisp magic that had gotten Wilder through many trials in her life. A source of comfort before Vaati, when things seemed simpler. Even if she hadn't used the little lights for grounding since her troubles had grown more dire, she would never forget them.

She purred as she approached and there was a miniscule pop as a little pink wisp appeared in front of her. "Hello, friend! Do you remember me? You showed me how to do this." She sat in front of him, wisp hoving on one side, Vaati crouched at the other. "I'll help with whatever you need here."

Coyote had wandered into Hydra a few days back quite by chance. Her life--drifting aimlessly and enjoying lazing about and hunting--had for the most part been quite happy. She hadn't been involved in anything, though; since the incident in Canis she'd avoided anything that looked like it might be dangerous. That had been a very unpleasant day. But the sounds and scents of a gathering in the Dunes fascinated her. She didn't know Hydra well, yet; only that it seemed to suit her, and she liked it here. But she did know that so far, the Dunes had seemed oddly empty (aside from those weird, vibrating disc-things).

So this drew her innate curiosity, and as the last of them gathered, she trotted lithely up. She gave a brief wag of bushy tail, bright eyes taking in the strange forms gathered here. The last one approaching as Coyote arrived was Wilder--and the bright 'do you remember me?' suddenly jolted with her mind. Wilder hadn't meant it for her, but Coyote did remember her--from Canis, from that day. She'd summoned up some kind of guardian thing, hadn't she-? Coyote watched her with interest, for a moment, fascinated. Who and what was she-?

She then turned her attention to the Merchant, looking him over. Curious, her magicka sparked out, looking for any sign of what 'alignment' he bore--a spell she used often and idly. "What's going on?" she asked, friendly and simply wanting to be involved.

V-Onyx-Two set down lightly, black wings furling behind him. He looked around with a scowl, and for once it wasn't forced--wasn't a faked disapproval to maintain some authoritative appearance. No; it was hot here. Hot, and bright; and Onyx-Two was swathed in thick black cloth. Ugh. He tugged on the light around him, using his trained power to at least shift some away from him, leaving him swathed in minor shadow.

Mirror-bright eyes shifted to take in the gathering. Some of the Forge were here, as expected. Allowed to aid the Merchant in whatever this task was. He'd come, too; he was eager to prove himself but moreso, to get rid of this designation and get himself an actual fucking name. 'Onyx-Two' was starting to grate on him heavily.

He held a sickle in each hand, rather than hanging from the leather loops at his waist. This was for appearances, and he already regretted it; the grips were hot from the desert light. Again: Ugh. He refused to relinquish them, though. He cultivated this wicked, aloof appearance, if only out of fear he wouldn't otherwise be deemed worthy.

"I have come for the Forge," he stated, loud and cold, eyes flicking to Zoisite as he realized that had probably already been established. And 'come for?' Why'd he said that? Wouldn't 'on behalf of' have been better? He scowled more deeply, eyes narrowing as he looked back to the Masked Merchant. "What was it you wanted?" he added, a note of disdain for all of this now in his tone, as if to distract from his own verbal fuck-up.

AWAKENING THE DREAMER

Part I - A Catalyst

The Merchant turned, regarding with an empty stare all those who had arrived. His head tipped too far to one side as he considered--would they be enough? They would not, in his estimation. "Work... is required. You will need... to find more of you." His tone was one of empty command, and he turned to stare back at the seemingly empty expanse of sand. For the most part, none of their greetings were returned, and no questions answered. They would find out, soon enough, that this was no Trial. He did not answer Wilder, either, though he held up the claws of his right hand so that a wisp of his own curled into his palm and hovered there with an eerie light. Despite its appearance, V-Onyx-Two would sense that here was not a creature of natural order--but of Chaos.

At last he spoke, voice rattling and wheezing like a heavy wind.

"A catalyst... is required. Power... to awaken greater power." He raised a hand, swept it left to right, and there was a shimmer of magic. The sands trembled, the grains at the rear of the slope sliding downward... yet there was an unnatural asymmetry to the movement of the sand, a shape almost forming where it slid or stopped. As if... something lay beneath it.

"The Dreamer... has slept long enough. The Shapers... have rested... long enough. It is time... for them to awaken." The process of life, of death, of awakening or of dreaming--these were not instantaneous, but gradual. The replication or slow decay of cells. The flicker of neurons, off and on and off again. This Nest was no different: it was awoken from the great sleep only gradually, one cave after another. But this-... ahh, this was the Merchant's task. Hydra had been required, yes--and indeed served its own purpose, and always had--but there was more yet to do. "Enchantments. Magic. Stones." From within his black sleeve he withdrew a large shard of bright pink crystal, holding it up between two claws. "Deposit magic... here." He demonstrated. The wisp he held was brought close to the crystal--and then vanished with a flash, pulled into the crystalline lattice of the stone. The gemstone flared, then dimmed. "But it will not be enough. It cannot... hold enough."

No; he needed a plethora of enchanted items, of lost Gemstones still flickering with life--life that would be forever stolen. And whatever power they could pass into this holding crystal.

Would that be enough to awaken him-?

He had little time to consider this, for now the sands began to tremble in earnest. From behind the gathered group came a cresting shape, like a serpent, coiling through the Dunes, one that the Sandworms oddly left alone. It arrived moments later in a shower of sand, its head curling high: ten meters long, coated in dark, iridescent scales that flared outward now with a glowing vent of heat.

Skahan looked over the Gembound, and then curled past them, peering at the sand. "Was this the place?" he asked, half to himself, four eyes squinting. But it was--memory returned, made distant by aeons. "You cannot even tell that it was here!" A huff of a laugh, a blast of hot air, escaped him. The basilisk's scales clamped to his hide, and he pressed forward, a twist of his body and emanation of blazing heat indicating that he'd begun his work. Sand was thrown back in showers, the molten blasts from between his scales gradually melting a molten-edged hole into the Dunes that hardened into glass.

The hole that he dug quickly began to resemble that of an immense and gaping Sandworm mouth, though it was clear that his progress would take time. The Merchant, meanwhile--having remained silent through this--turned back to the Gembound. "Begin," he wheezed, and then paused. Ahh. They would want rewards--would they not? That was how these creatures worked. "Name... your price." He couldn't be bothered with deciding what they were owed. They would be given what they wanted--or, if the price were too steep, they would not.

So long as the work was done.

---

The Masked Merchant has tasked the Gembounds with providing a great deal of magic to 'awaken the Dreamer.' The magic must reach a total of 100 points. Deliveries may take several forms to reach this total:

3 Points: High Intensity enchanted item, or Master-level Lost Gemstone
2 Points: Medium Intensity enchanted item, or Pupil-level Lost Gemstone
1 Point: Low Intensity enchanted item, or Fledgling-level Gemstone

In addition, Gembounds may cast spells into the Merchant's catalyst/storage gemstone. High-intensity spells are worth 3 points, Medium are worth 2, and Low are worth 1. Only Barely+ casts will be counted. However, this Catalyst stone only has a capacity for 50 points--so the other 50 will need to come from items and lost stones.

---

The Masked Merchant is also asking the Gembounds to name what rewards they would like. Most things within his power will be granted; rewards that are too far-reaching or outside his power may be rejected.

Anyone may still join this thread, or be recruited into aiding in other threads/offscreen and then arrive here to deliver their goods. Any objects or stones found should have their origins linked to in the delivery posts. Characters may post as many times as they like (even in a row) to fill the Merchant's storage stone and deliver items. They may also cast their spells into the crystal in solo threads. The next post will take place in one week's time.

@V-Zoisite-One @Garnet-Epsilon @Reverend @Wilder @Coyote (V-Onyx-Two) @Fleas

Alright so, Fleas had lied. She hadn't died before stepping foot into the cave. But with a trail of odd, not so survival-looking gembound padded into the cave, her mouth slightly parted in the beginnings of a pant. She had her wings raised above her head like some sort of leathery umbrella, trying to keep the baking heat of the cave lights off her. She hadn't tried to actually correctly use them to fly. Well... she had once, and the results of that incident was enough to get her to swear flight off for the foreseeable future.

Fleas shook her neck out. She led a cautious, ungainly trail through the sand to the gathered gembound, still thrown off by the added weight of her wings. As she got closer, she found herself doubly thrown off by the presence of a Slightly Bigger Her in the group. The pattern wasn't the same, and she looked kind of off, her proportions all slightly wrong, but the colors and the shape were there.

She nearly tripped on her own paws as she finally got to the group, distracted by them. She shook her neck out as she came to a stop. And when she opened her eyes, she saw the last person she wanted to see. The Masked Merchant sitting on the dunes. Her ears laid flat, her giant eyes squinted in a strange lopsided manner, and her lip had slightly raised as if she were about to sneeze, showing off her snaggletooth. It was a bizarre, wholly unintimidating display. Just about as conflicted as she felt at the moment. She had been tense as all get out to start with, but as the Merchant spoke and it was confirmed they weren't going into another trial, she slowly loosened up. She tucked her wings in, listening closely. Skahan had scared all her hair straight off, and she definitely did NOT like any creature that made Hydra any hotter, but in the end the goals of the two was pretty obvious.

"You just want magic? Stones and stuff?" She said, almost incredulously. "That's easy enough, I guess." She shifted on her feet. "But...theres like, little gembound in stones and stuff, yeah? I don't know what'll happen if they get their magic drained, but I ain't doin' that. I'll see what I can do for items though." Her eyes roved over the assembled group with a suspicious squint. She hoped none of them took stones to the merchant and his weird pink stone, but it wasn't exactly like she could stop them. She could give them unhappy looks, though.

With a stretch and a sigh, Fleas said "I guess I'll go get started then. Got no ideas for wishes now but, ah, I'll think on it." She padded towards the entrance. Paused. Squinted past the bright cave lights, back into Hydra. The hell cave. Ah, what the hell. It was supposed to be safe here, anyways. If anywhere in the caves had old enchanted items, it had to be here. Plenty of people died in here, if the last trial was anything to go by. She changed course, padding deeper into Hydra.

It was a stupid decision, but Fleas was nothing if not full of stupid decisions. As she padded, she paused. Fleas glanced back at the slowly dispersing group. She was cynical enough to expect one of them to gather gemstones. Fleas concentrated, sending out a pulse of magicka as she walked further into Hydra. Perhaps she'd spot a lone gemstone as she left. She'd be able to save that one from its likely fate, at least. Nothing picked up, likely either too far or too buried beneath the sand for her to detect. Fleas grumbled unhappily. She'd try again later.

"When I speak"
When I think

;exit fleas further into Hydra

He listens to the Merchant's words, stilted and strange, but still clear. An offering of magic...

It wouldn't be impossible, but a nervous glance to the enchanted horn hanging on his side. No, not this. This is mine to keep. Reverend would look elsewhere.

But the trembling and shaking of Sakhan's arrival panicked it, and unable to see what the Basilisk really was, he howls, jumping into the air in a flurry of feathers. "SANDWORM! SANDWORM!" is his howl, as astral wings flare to life and he flees, off in some other direction.

Exit Reverend