Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: ac169@Freenet.carleton.ca (Darryl Farr)
Subject: [JOI] Ildamar's dream (?)
Message-ID: <1993Apr1.042832.9005@freenet.carleton.ca>
Date: Thu, 1 Apr 1993 04:28:32 GMT


	After bidding goodnight to the newly formed group of companions,
Ildamar made his way up the rickety stairs and into the common sleeping room.
He picked his way carefully over the reclining forms of several sleeping
persons, and chose a small pallet near the window.  He lay down, removing
his weaponry and gear, and placed his small pack under his head.  He
stared at the sky for some time, longing for the wind, the smell of the
trees around him, and the chatter of the nighttime residents of the
forest.  He was, however, anxiously anticipating the upcoming sea voyage. 
Years ago, he had spent several months on board such a vessel, and, though
it could not compare with the sylvan peacefulness of the verdant
wilderness, the open sea, with its salt air and tangy wind had much to
recommend it.  After a time, his eyes gradually closed, as he drifted off
to sleep.
	Shortly after Ildamar lost consciousness, his form started to
blur.  A faint glow suffused his features, and his skin darkened to
midnight blue.  His hair turned dark black, and his features became almost
blunt, but at the same time, startlingly beautiful.  He started to dream.
	He was standing in a glade, surrounded by tall trees.  He could
hear the wind, calling to him, and he turned to follow.  Suddenly, out of
the growth, there appeared a majestic doe.  She turned and fled, but
stopped shortly and looked behind.  He smiled to himself, and felt his
form shifting.  He now resembled nothing so much as a huge white stag,
with a formidible rack of antlers, and a coat as pure as the fresh
blossoms of a young apple tree.  He ran after the doe, and they played tag
for miles, always within sight of each other, but, teasingly, never within
reach.  Ildamar burst into a clearing, and froze at the scene before him. 
The doe was lying on her side, a black-fletched arrow piecing her flank. 
"Har-har-har!! I gots 'er, Bokk!"  he heard, as an ogre, dressed in black
leather and iron spikes marched into the clearing.  He hefted the doe onto
his shoulder and stomped off.  Ildamar watched, frozen with terror, as his
beloved, Tirana, was unceremoniously borne off by the huge hunter.  As she
disappeared into the bush on the back of the ogre, the doe lifted her head
weakly and looked at him through glazed eyes.  "Ildamar... I am near...
hurry!"  Ildamar felt, rather than heard the words.  
	He awoke, drenched in sweat, the blankets wrapped around his
torso.  "Tirana!  I-I'm coming!" he whispered.  He closed his eyes and
wept.  After several minutes had passed, his eyes closed in exhaustion,
and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
-- 
Darryl Farr                             An old grey horse stood on the wall,
The Grey Man                            As daft as he was high.  
                                        He had no fear of falling down,
ac169@freenet.carleton.ca               He thought he was a fly.