Role

Chapter 10

Darkness shrouds the borders of this dreamscape, the kneeling form of
Faenral found atop a pillar. In his dreamscape, Faenral appears to be one
of pure High-Elven descent, the dream itself seeming to be a reflection
of his trials in the waking world. Something lurks in the shadows though,
its presence nigh overpowering, the odd shape of some beast flickering
into view and out once more before it can focus.

As Faenral sits in quiet contemplation, the head and neck of some great
beast resembling a dragon stretches out of the encroaching shadows. Even
with the creature revealing itself, other shapeless forms gather around
it, red eyes peering out from the darkness, though daring not to intrude.

"Youuu.... Would forssake me..." the beast hisses, its great maw open but
not moving, seeming eager to flash its' many teeth. "Everythhhing I have
brought... Everythhhing I have given..."
Faenral's eyes remain closed, though a touch of fear crosses his
countenance. "You have brought only false promises and hunger."
The beast snaps its maw, the sound echoing across the dreamscape so
fiercely that the very pillar on which Faenral sits begins to shake. "I
gave you what you wanted."
His eyes snap open, finally facing the nightmare creature with defiance
as he rises to his feet. "NO! You gave me a false hope! NO ONE, could
benefit. Too many would have been KILLED!"
Amusement crosses the beasts eyes, appearing as a spark of lightning that
bounces from each eye across the scales of its face. For a moment, its'
form shimmers, the mass of 'dragon' disappearing abruptly to take the
form of a Dark Elven woman. "Power is Life. Power is Death. I am you, and
you are me. I, am your power. Embrace me as you once did. Shed the
shackles these pathetic 'Lightwalkers' chain you with. Shed the vows that
you cripple yourself with."
"For what? To seek power for the sake of being powerful? To seek death to
become immortal myself? To DESTROY everything I have gained and the trust
I have earned?"
"THEY MAKE YOU WEAK!" the drow screams, her visage twisting once more to
assume the form of the beast. "You CANNOT shake me from your veins,
child."
As if in perfect contemplation, Faenral returns once more to his resting
position with his eyes closing. "No... Perhaps not. But I can -starve-
you. I can -ignore- you. And I can -fight- you. It is not my friends that
make me weak, Yggvass. It is -YOU!-"

With his final declaration, the illusion of the drow erupts, the creature
emerging from the shadows entirely as a dragon of huge dimensions. With
an ear-shattering screech, it lunges with its' head toward Faenral, its'
maw a gaping hole filled with teeth, flames, and lightning. Before the
dragon is able to consume its' mark however, the dream ends, Faenral
waking with a cold sweat, his eyes glowing a fierce red that lingers for
several moments.