Dream within a dream
10
JUN/20
The buzzing sound in his head was growing louder, and as it amplified in volume he felt parts of his mind awaken as if from a deep slumber. It was like his brain was rubbing its eyes sleepily, yawning, and getting ready to start its day. His memories had still not come back to him, but something else was coming back to him. He knew things. He could tell people’s intentions before they acted. He could tell if they were lying, or concealing the truth in some way. And he could attack them without raising a fist or brandishing a weapon. This was all so intriguing. None of the primitive tribespeople seemed to show a similar aptitude. Well, except for Rain, but the strange dwarfling seemed to draw his powers from an outside source, at least from what he could tell.
He practiced his new powers on the bug creatures, and found that he could smash them into the earth with a thought. He grinned at the manifestation of this new ability, and then laid back and watched as the savages moved in to engage the rest of the bugs. The brutal insect creatures fell before them readily. The one known as Oni seemed to bear the brunt of their attacks, but weathered their assault well. Only the venom of the insects stymied him very much, freezing him in place for a time while the bugs chewed upon him. Rain kept him standing with his powers, however – the dwarfling was indeed useful. Joe and Selise were deadly from a distance, harrying the bugs from afar. Those two were smart. Oni was brave, maybe foolhardy even, but staying at a distance was clearly the wise move.
Ayassa was something else entirely – the crimson dragonling waded through the bugs and shrugged off attacks that would have felled a lesser creature, all the while counterattacking with savage ferocity with her obsidian blade. Ayassa coming to them from across the vast desert must have been something of Divine Providence; the sheer odds of such an opportune encounter defied all logic. Yes, these five were clearly something special. If he was going to get his revenge upon the laughing face that tormented his dreams, he would need this group’s help. The rest of the tribe however, were damn close to being helpless…
…they were captured with hardly a fight it appeared: several of their bodies littered the desert floor, but not a single attacker appeared to have fallen in the scuffle. How had this tribe survived as long as they had out here in the harsh desert? The younglings were all very capable, but the rest of them – aside from Paulu and Agis – seemed worthless. The younglings would need to train them if the few who remained were to stay alive. The initial assault from the trackers who had followed Ayassa had killed a half dozen of the tribe and dragged the rest far into the desert, leaving a mile wide track for Joe and the group to follow. The party handily dispatched the three trackers left behind – for what purpose had these three been left? It seemed to defy strategy to leave such a small force behind and an obvious trail to follow. Perhaps it was simple overconfidence? Seeing how poorly the tribesfolk had resisted their attackers, this was entirely plausible.
They found the remaining members of the tribe an hour into the desert…why had they only traveled an hour and set up camp? Tactics did not seem to be their strong point. They should have entrenched and set up a defensive position, with scouts placed atop the high rocks to keep watch. Instead, they marched colorful kobolds around their perimeter and huddled around their prisoners. Overconfident or stupid, they had the numbers but we had the element of surprise.
The fight went pretty well according to plan, with Oni and Ayassa taking the brunt of the damage, though Selise was wounded pretty badly as well. Rain kept them standing with his magical ability, but found himself taxed as well. And….
…Tiamat’s Black Head, he really needed a name, he realized. Not remembering that bit of information was pure torment. Occasionally he would find it on the tip of his tongue, only to have it dissolve like water upon hot stone when he tried to focus on it and recall it. The group called him the Stranger, which seemed fine. He swore he heard Oni call him Mariah a couple of times. He had bristled at that, but did not know exactly why – that name meant nothing to him. Regardless, the Stranger Mariah found that he could shield himself from the eyes of the enemy during this fight. Now this was an intriguing development…he would need to see if he could harness and focus this new power a bit more. Hiding himself from one opponent was good, but multiple enemies – now that was real power. He would need to practice this.
He could not revel in the manifestation of this new ability however, they had to try to save the remaining members of the tribe; the trackers were cutting them down where they were huddled. He had clambered up on a large rock before he even questioned his motives: Why did it feel foreign to him to want to save these people? Sure, they had saved him in the desert and he felt a certain small level of obligation to them, but something inside of him told him that the weak were meant to be used and discarded. Why was he risking himself to try to save them? It was much safer to hang back and mentally attack these trackers from a safe distance, but moving into a position to actively try to help the hostages? That felt like something the old him…the forgotten him…would certainly not have done. And yet, here he was…
This was another clue to his past life, he realized. The person he was before his memories had all been stolen from him was most certainly a selfish bastard. At least this was some new information – a small clue, if an unsurprising one – and something to ponder later.
All the while, the buzzing in his head grew louder, threatening to drown out his conscious thoughts. He was slowly waking up…