Dreamer's Journal


The Artisan
(This is a journal Kublai is keeping, please keep comments on topic and in ()brackets, unless your character finds the journal (I've placed a sign where he keeps it), then that would entitle you to be able to interact with it too. Otherwise, all comments are OOC. The long term goal of this journal is to, in the end, try and teach Kublai to explain dreams himself and become a dream-teller, if I cannot find anyone with a character that can help him. Other than that, I like to record this IC progression in a public thread)

The dreams continue. I have not yet received any reaction from the posters I've put up. A stranger at the pub told me to write my dreams down. "It helps" he said.
If anything, at least it's a record and I might be able to trace their meaning at a later date, for now I am at a loss as to what they might possibly mean.

Waterday, 2nd of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
I awoke this morning with the flashes of the most horrible dream I've ever had. They were still playing in my inner eye. Whether I looked into the candle I just lit or closed my eyelids, it made no difference; I saw it in front of me as clear as day...I was floating in air, looking down, I saw Altera. It lay below me as the tiniest speck I've ever seen. Yet, I knew for sure that this speck was my world. I squinted to take a better look, but it remained so utterly small and insignificant,this scared me...Then, as sudden as a flash of lightning, the speck increased in size. In a split second, my far away world surrounded me, suffocated me. I was so close, a grain of sand appeared to me as if it was a tall mountain. I breathed, but it felt asif the air didn't satiate me. I was choking in the sheer volume of an insignificant grain of sand and I longed for being away from it. Far away, anywhere, as long as the size decreased. Just like that, once again, I floated above my world in nothingness...
Strange, no?

Fireday, 3rd of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
I dreamed horribly again. It woke me up in the dead of night. All was silent around me, but I could hear the sound of scorching fire and harsh winds, the sounds of my dreams. The nightly silence could not keep it away... Like my first dream, I was afloat in the air, looking down on Altera, but it was as small as a speck of dust. I tried so hard to see more, to magnify it, squinting at it, but it only hurt my brain to think of the vast nothingness this speck was in... I looked away from the speck, but that made matters even worse. There was -nothing-. An incredible nothing, a nothing like I've never seen before. I looked back and tried to find the speck, for a moment I feared I would never see anything ever again... Finally, I found it, and it started to grow bigger. Very slowly, I felt myself being pulled toward it. Wind started to whisper in my ears as the velocity with which I approached Altera increased and the speck became a dot. Then the wind started to scream, it positively -howled- at me. Altera became bigger, more significant again, and the wind kept filling my ears. Then, stretching my arms out toward it, my skin turned red. I felt as if all of my skin was rubbing against a coarse stone wall. Faster and faster I went, with a burning sensation through my entire body. The hair on my arms started to burn. My skin caught fire, I can still feel the burning wounds as if they were real. Altera became even bigger, I cam closer, and a howling wind made place for the loud sound of angry flickering flames protruding from my scorched skin...

What does this all mean? I got to find someone who can explain this to me, perhaps Thordil's bond with Korog could be of use?

"Spoken to Thordil about this, he says I should hang around more and talk to people, make new friends. That these dreams might mean that I feel alone and isolated. A fear of being away from it all while fearing suffocation at being close. The burning part could mean you're being overwhelmed by something. Wind might mean change is upon me. Since the wind lead to the burning, perhaps that change will overwhelm me. This was what Thordil could make of it. Perhaps these dreams are nothing but a fair warning that I have to change? Thordil tells me that it might be a call to change myself, a sign that recent change was bad, or a warning for future change to come..."

Finalday, 4th of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
I dreamed again, regardless of the lavender tea I drunk on Thordil's advice. Is it the sleeplessness that is creating even worse dreams, or is it something else? I woke up, soaked in my own sweat, but I felt so very cold in the chill autumn night air. I shivered, but I still felt the heat of my dream at the same time... I stood in the middle of a black crater, a deep narrow crevice into the bowels of Altera. All was dark, except the area around me; I was on fire. My breath was raspy, my voice hoarse as I called out to see if I was alone. Without a reply, I looked up, there was a massive tunnel going straight up, ending in a small hole that shed a soft ray of moonlight on the tunnel's walls. All else was darkness. My feet hurt, so I looked down, and saw the ground I stood on was on fire too... I jumped up and attempted to climb the wall sof the narrow tunnel. Somehow, oddly enough, it felt as if I had created that tunnel. Like I was climbing -back- up. I had no idea what I was doing down here and how I got here, though... The flames below me appeared as arms with clawing hands, lashing out at me and licking the walls. I climbed up the rough tunnel wall, looking down, I saw creatures crawl from the crevices between the flames. I heard their voices whimper and cry, as if they were in pain. An urge came over me to jump back down and help them. Yet, when I jumped, I fell through the fiery floor and into the flaming pits of the Nether as the floor closed above me...
Why am I dreaming these things? I will try and meet with Thordil again in the morning...

"Thordil says it's got to do with change again. But he gets the feeling it's about the result of a choice I already made. I made the choice, getting away from something as beautiful as the night sky, getting stuck instead on the path I turned into. While trying to go back the way I came did not succeed. It seems my feelings to aid others before myself could cost me even more, he says, if the dream is to be believed. I spoke to Thordil before about my worries of my kingship. I fear I am not a good king. I mentioned that I cannot let go of it, because I am king for my kin, not for myself. I literally told him this. And now, my dream shows me while trying to do what's best for others, only to fall into the nether myself!"

Blessday, 5th of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
My dreams continue, and I'm quite sure now that they are interconnected with one another. Last I remember, I dreamed of falling through a fiery floor into the eternal abyss of the Nether. Tonight, I find myself waking up to further hellish visions... I see myself falling through the fire and into the chasms of the nether. I look at myself from outside of my body, falling down, I see my beard is on fire and my skin is flaking off, as if it's smelting iron and ashed wood. I fall into the mouth of a floating ghast abomination. Once inside it, I hear the screams of hundreds of damned souls; howling for liberation of their damnable chains. Further I fall, ghast after ghast swallows me up as I fly through the reddened nether sky... Faceless figures with odd features, shadows of people, unborn babies, clawing limbs and horrid decayed faces of elders. I know not what they want of me, but they reach and howl, all the while my skin peels and smelts off of my body... With a thud and an eerie splash I finally land in the scorching heat of liquid stone; the brimstone lava of the nether. As my body touches it, I am transported from my third view back into my body and look up as I slowly sink into the sticky hot substance. I see ghasts flying overhead, the nether has fully swallowed me, the lava now covers my eyes and I am suddenly in utter darkness... Once more, with eyes wide open, I look around in the nothingness. I see and feel nothing. Until my eyes fall upon a speck of dust. A speck of dust of which I am sure it is Altera, my world. Now, I'm back at where I started...

This dream was by far the worst of them all, but perhaps it can shed light on the ones before?

"I think I know now what this one means, even before visiting Thordil. This one is so disturbing, that I'm not sure whether I should tell Korog's chosen about it. Perhaps he'll think Jishrim's getting in my head... I believe this dream is a warning, what will happen if I don't make a decision soon. The terror that awaits me if I keep the crown to myself, if I don't "pass it on" to someone. But to who? I can't make up my mind. Nor do I think it is -my- place to choose such an important thing. It's got too many consequences to too many Dwarves. I'll wait, at least another week, before I make any decisions..."

Townsday, 6th of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
Just after midnight, I awake with the visions of the dream I had four days ago, the first one is repeating itself after yesterday's dream ended at the start. I couldn't possibly get back to sleep, so I lit a candle and took a walk through Khárùz-Korum. Every step I took echoed in the silent hollow of the mountain. When I passed the inn, I thought I heard a familiar voice, so I looked to the bar where the sound came from. "As long as you reign, I won't be forgotten," said Gromm who stood behind the bar. His eyes were hollow and dark, his skin seemingly glued to his bones. His teeth showed through his see-through cheeks. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, this apparition could not be real! Indeed, it had disappeared when I opened my eyes again. Though Gromm's words lingered in my head, I was sure they seemed familiar. As I walked on and past the workshop, again I could hear Gromm talk. I looked to the workshop and saw Gromm at the entrance. Stárad, my dog, was looking up at him and Gromm bent down to pet him, when he said; "I lay here, in Khárùz-Korum, surrounded by my kin and our knowledge." I shuddered, again the words seemed familiar. I looked to the library, and then back to Gromm. But Gromm was gone. Stárad barked happily and walked up to me. I stroked the hair on his head and took him with me to the library. Gromm was buried in the heart of Khárùz-Korum, in the center of the library, but we moved his remains to Aeroch-Rimtar's catacombs so he could be closer to Korog. Was it a mistake to move him there? Upon my arrival at the library, I heard Gromm talk once more. He lay there, where his coffin should have been, surrounded by empty bookshelves. The books that once resided there were in storage until they could be shipped to Aeroch-Rimtar to be added to the Dwarven Archives there. "Khárùz-Korum was my ambition and I created it, as long as it stands as the proud capital of the Dwarves, I shall not be forgotten," said Gromm, his ghost turned his head to look at me and then faded before my eyes. The capital of the Dwarves... My grief for Gromm and incapability as a Dwarf had let it fall to ruin. I gambled away most of the property and half of the town was now owned by a Frostpeak named Kristoff Stoneshield. I suddenly realized where I had heard, or rather; read, those words before! I hurried to the warehouse and went through several chests until I found the one holding Gromm's literary works. I grabbed a thick tome called 'Gromm's Farewell; an autobiography' and blew the dust off its cover. With great anguish, I flicked through the pages until I found the passage I was looking for; "I have no doubt that my name will be forgotten within the next few years to greater Altera- and once the reign of Khárûz Kublai ends, once the Eastern Continent is left behind, there will be no trace of my efforts." I shivered, realizing it was as Gromm's ghost had just relayed in the inn. I read on, flicking through the pages feverishly; "I am now buried here, at Khárûz Korum, content and surrounded by books and my kin." Sweat started to soak my night-shirt, this was what Gromm's ghost had told me in the workshop. He was no longer here, no longer around his books, no longer near his kin. What had I done? Why had I decided to move him?! Then, on the second to last page, I found a match with the ghost's words in the library; "I returned and founded Khárûz Korum with Lemarc and my new king, Kublai Kull. The Dwarven Kingdom refounded by my own will and creation." I shut the book, stared into the space around me, and couldn't sleep that night... Instead, I make my way to Aeroch Rimtar once more, to speak to Thordil Barumur. I need his advice!

"Reason tells me that the ghost I saw was a figment of my imagination. The words it spoke, I had already read before, right after Gromm's death, in his own autobiography book. But it seemed so real. My dreams are now haunting me even when I am not sleeping. I should not wear the crown, not anymore. Gromm's ghost has made it clear enough to me that I've made some terrible mistakes. It is clear I am unfit to be a king. I have betrayed the trust he had in me carrying on his legacy. The books stowed away, his body moved to the cold depths of Aeroch Rimtar, his city bereft of its riches and beauty...

Thordil had a totally different view on this. He told me he doubts Gromm blames me. That I was a good king while my heart was in it, but now it's not like that anymore. He said he's seen it a great many times in his life serving Korog, that monarchs lose their spark and thus their finesse at ruling. He said: "I've seen it go two ways. They either shut down and do not change their ways, while the kingdom crumbles. Or they take it out on everything and everyone, and destroy themselves. At least you realized what was happening before either could occur. At least you can still act." I must confess, his words soothed me greatly. He said that the only way to do great work is to love what you do."

Thronesday, 7th of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
The second dream I've dreamed days ago has returned to follow up the first, which I also dreamed yesterday. The days are starting to blend into one long ongoing moment. Without enough sleep, the rhythm of day and night is fading and I notice I'm losing the line between reality and imagination. I lack points in my life to which I can relate my new experiences and dreams. All is becoming just one big blur of things I've experienced and I'm not sure if they're real or not. Worse, I don't know when they happened. Did I talk to Thordil about Gromm yesterday, or an hour ago? Surely not last week, right? It was in Aeroch Rimtar, but I can't recall travelling there... What makes matters worse is that I'm having more than one dream per night. On top of the repeating dream, I dreamed of a cottage in the woods. I was in the shed, some twenty feet away from the house. I finished whatever I was doing there and walked back to the cottage, when a branch in the shape of a hand reached out to snatch me from the ground. I dove between the fingers and rolled around on my back to see what had tried to grab me. It was some kind of forest golem, I thought. But now I think of it, it must've been an Arbori, those tree-creatures. I rolled further and tried to get up my feet, running for the cottage, when I saw another huge Arbori behind the house, towering above it. I zig-zagged and ran from left to right to evade the one that was trying to snatch me, while at the same time trying to keep out of sight of the second one. The trees creaked and the leaves rustled, it was autumn, like it is now. The garden of the cottage was covered in a layer of big leaves. I looked behind me whether the creature was still there and I saw its horrible contorted face and hooked nose, high above me, while it waved its wooden arms around. I had reached the door of the house and quickly jumped inside, slamming the door behind me and waking up at that very instance.

"The damned Arbori creatures. I remember the first and only time I encountered them. I can still envision them and how they fought against our company in the cave. One was set on fire, another being chopped to pieces. At first, I was too afraid to act and curled up in a ball, but after some persuasion from my fellows, I stood up and hacked at the terrible foe with my axe. I had hoped the horrors of that day were in the past, but they've come and haunt me again in my dreams. I wonder what it means, but I don't want to bother Thordil with every dream I have, he's got enough on his plate. What I need to do now, is ridding myself of the crown. That is what Thordil says. I do believe him, but I feel like Gromm might have told me otherwise. What if I just hid the crown somewhere and denied my title whenever someone would address me by it? Would that be a solution? It is at least worth a shot. I will hide it now, what else can I do. The sooner the better! The dreams will end when my crown is gone!"

Sunderday, 8th of Stormwind, 2305, Season of Decay
In my dream, late last night, I was visited by all the former Dwarven kings of old. First King Lars, Holy Hrothgar, King Seth Jenkins, King under the ruin, King kinslayer, King Thrain Frostpeak, King Ironfist, They had all gathered in Kharuz-Korum and I felt terribly ashamed. I had a feeling they noticed it, yet we walked side by side through the hollow of our capital. They did not speak, but only looked around and walked with me through the echoing cave up to the throne room of the upside-down emerald castle, which hung as a big stalactite from the ceiling of the cave. I was certain the throne-room would be the best place to welcome such honored guests. We arrived at the throne-room and on my throne rest my golden crown, forged by Korog's chosen. I looked at it in fear. I couldn't show the honorable kings of old that I had tried to hide away a Dwarven crown and tried to abandon my kingship! So I took the crown from my seat, turned to sit down on the throne myself and while I was looking at the host of royal kings I put the crown on my head. Straight away, without a moment hesitation, they began shouting at me in Horgaahn. High king Lars' dialect was so old, I could hardly understand what he was saying, but it was obvious he was quite angry with me. They yelled their own curses and words all at the same time, which echoed through the great Kharuz-Korum. I was baffled; before I had put the crown on my head, they were all calm and silent, admiring the work we had put into the town. But when they realized I was king, suddenly there were many things to comment on, it seemed. Surely, their shouts would be heard by anyone in town, from the entrance of the mountain to the deepest crack in the stone... I felt as if I had failed at being a good Dwarf and I felt lonely, even in the presence of these great Dwarven legends. Defeated, I took off the crown and placed it back on the throne. Their voices died out, after the echoes had had their say. I got up, turned to put the crown back on the throne and turned again to face their judgement. They looked normal again; proud, honorable, noble, yet friendly. They had no more critique for me, but silently waited for me to take them away from the throne-room again. We walked through the halls together, where I showed them the war-machines I had designed and the workshop I had so often used before I became king. They looked pleased and walked with me all the way to my bed, where they stood watch as I fell asleep...

"The moment I woke up, I ran down and uncovered the crown I had hidden among a pile of old clothes. I knew what I had to do, and how we would find our new Dwarven King. The kings of old had shown me the way. All I had to do was to put the crown on the throne. Any Dwarf that will find it and dare to wear it will be the new king. Then, if he is unfit, surely the kings will visit him in his dreams too? But wait... was this the true meaning of the dream? Or were they trying to tell me that it was a mistake to have a Dwarven king at all? Perhaps I wasn't a bad king, perhaps the problem was that I was a king in the first place! I will take the crown somewhere hidden, somewhere safe, where only I will know where it is. I can't destroy the craft of Korog's chosen, but I can hide it!"
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