Just a dream, most likely….

There is darkness; it seems at first to be absolute. Gradually it settles into varying shades until large shapes can be made out, then smaller and more detailed shapes and finally the depths of shadows and folds of the fabric. The scene is a cavern deep within the earth. The hooded figures standing about are dark elves, for only they could look and move about so comfortably in this lack of light. There are seven of them. Three appear to be common guards watching the entrances and exits of the cavern. The other four are whispering to themselves, likely in their native tongue. They appear to be waiting for something.

All of a sudden the air feels displaced and warm, the air movement pulses like ripples in a pond when one tosses in a stone. Near the dark elves, the dark shapes displace greatly, the dark elves appear startled; they spit words of venom and jump back into a stance to brace for something, drawing their weapons in the direction of the oddity.  A tall figure steps out of the anomaly and waves the tip of a staved weapon. A bright flash fills the room for just a second. The Dark elves weapons ignite in flame; they drop them to the ground and they melt into the stone floor, even the drow blade that is clearly magical is reduced to a bright bubbling mass...

No words are exchanged.  The dark elves seem stunned.  Whether they are in awe, or are being held, it is hard to know. The figure reaches into the air and produces something; a scroll it seems, riddled with glowing runes. The scroll floats towards the dark elves and lands into one of their outstretched and open hands. As it is taken, the figure turn to leave the same as it entered the scene… but before it does, it pauses briefly, and looks in your direction, you cannot make out details aside from gently glowing eyes. They are sharp, they are piercing, and you can feel them weighing down on your soul... 





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