Forest of the Fall: A Journey Onward

First awareness came, and then pain as the stiffness in her neck protested movement. Parlina heard herself groan, a hand rubbing at a tired eye. A glance from side to side revealed that they were, at least for now, back in the strange comfort of the mists. They were troubling, indistinct but free from the nightmares that had plagued them since they had arrived on this dreamscape.

"Rynhart?" she mumbled uncertainly, forgoing manners in her half-awake state, "How long have we been sitting here?"

"A while," Rynhart replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Calmer." Knowing that she probably looked as great a mess as she felt, Parlina wiped away the tearstains as best she could, shyly smiling as she stood. Exhausted, she stumbled but kept her feet. The whispers had disappeared, but the druid waited for them now, rather than fearing their return. "I was worse than a child. I'm sorry for being such a bother. We should get back to the others."

"Do you think you can find them?" Rynhart asked.

The mist around the pair was thick and impenetrable.

Parlina smiled; a glimpse of the youthful, confident girl visible as familiar sparks broke up the plain swirling mist around them. Their chattering had been almost silent since the nightmares had begun. Perhaps they had known what was to come - they shared her memories after all, understood the druid more than she liked to admit.

"Yeah, I can," she reassured him, sending out a silent directive for the spirits to locate the presence of their companions. "Well, they can. I just sense their presence and follow, after all!"

Rynhart lay a hand on Parlina's shoulder and shook his head. "Not with them," he corrected before Parlina could walk into the mist after the flighty spirits. "This place toys with our minds. You can't trust what's real and what's not. But if anyone can navigate a spirit realm, it's a druid."

"Not real," Parlina repeated, reaching out a hand to touch at the spirits that might be as illusionary as the reminder of the husband she had forsaken. They disappeared, leaving the pair without their guidance. "If it toys with our minds, how can I tell what's real and what's not? How do I know that the chattering I always hear is genuine?"

"Trust your own senses, not what they tell you," Rynhart instructed. "Try. If we're just spirits, you should be able to find the others just as easily as you can any other spirit."

It had been so long, but Parlina remembered someone else telling her to trust her senses; that no one other than herself could tell her what was true. She did not, as perhaps expected, close her eyes, but watched Rynhart for a moment before tracing her fingertips across the width of his arm. 'Quiet,' she asked softly, seeking a moment of rare silence as the five voices that echoed followed her askance. No, four obeyed. One laughed long and hard, and Parlina could feel Aliana's judgement as the princess played at being a druid.

Under her fingers she felt the physical representation of Rynhart in this reality, but it was a shell; a fabrication of him in this place to serve the purposes of... who? What? Parlina took a deep, steadying breath and let herself look past the mundane to sense what had been supplanted beneath to create what she held in her hand - both hands now. Those given form felt strange; the spirits that aided her had no recognisable form in no realm except one, but people who had been temporarily given spirit form were peculiar. Interesting. Parlina had never fancied herself a scholar, but in that moment she saw the appeal. She missed Joseph.

"This," Parlina traced her fingertips over Rynhart's hand, "It isn't real, but I see beneath. No, not see. Feel. I can touch it by touching you, but it's not tangible. Not really." There was more than two spirits there - there were seven - but Parlina stretched out her sense beyond, not fearing those that resided in her pendant.

The grip she had on Rynhart tightened, disbelief widening her peridot eyes - joyous at the success, but befuddled by the results. "I can feel them - the others - but then, Rynhart," Parlina spoke quickly - breathlessly, "We're not alone! We're not alone! Come on!" Then she was off, setting a pace that mirrored that fresh elation.

"Somehow I knew it wasn't going to be as easy as a trip down memory lane," Emma remarked, sighing as the mist warped around them. Inhuman shapes darted in and out of vision, the stuff of nightmares - the nightmares of a particularly disturbed individual, mind - looking to sally forth from their veil of fog to strike at the group in their midst.

A twang sounded from within the party as Arrow fired a shot off into the whiteness, tracking a shape that had flitted into vision. He was rewarded with a satisfying thunk, followed by a shriek and the sound of something hitting the floor. "Well, these ones definitely aren't ghosts," he remarked, "We can kill them, or at least hit them."

From behind the group footsteps could be heard approaching through the mists that hid nightmares and truth in their swirling depths. Rapidly growing closer, those keen of ear would be able to tell that there were two sets, and before long two people broke through the whiteish barrier. The druid's eyes lit upon finding the group once more, beaming brighter than she had for days at least. "It worked!" Parlina cried, eyebrows raising as she counted mentally in her head - the right number of spirits - before turning back to Rynhart briefly, befor regarding the rest of the group. If she retained any anger or malice from before, there was no trace of it in the girl's expression.

"I can feel more," Parlina declared happily, a free hand gesturing to the world around them. "We're not alone, and I suspect it's them that have brought us here."

"Glad to see you back unharmed," Arrow said, "And quite glad I didn't inadvertently hit you with that arrow."

Emma cracked her knuckles, "Unless anyone has any better ideas, I'm thinking a good old-fashioned light show of fire is going to suffice to get us out of this. Problems? Suggestions?"

"That's not going to work, Emma." Parlina shook her head, releasing Rynhart and pausing to glance around them, assessing quietly. "And you wouldn't have hit me. They wouldn't have let you. Not that they're even really here at the moment. Maybe. Oh, now I'm getting distracted again.

"We're not alone," Parlina reiterated, pointing confidently to her left. "And I bet if we go that way for long enough, we'll find out exactly what's going on here."

Emma gave Parlina a dubious look, before shrugging, "If you say so, girl. But if an arrow can drop one, I don't see why burning 'em won't. I don't imagine it'll help us out of this mess either though, aside from being somewhat satisfying."

"It's not about what you can hurt in this place," Parlina hurriedly explained, "We could, if we tried hard enough, kill everything that came at us in this place but they'd just reform again when we let our guard down. They're just... oh, they're not important. It's the spirits that are!"

"I think what she's trying to say is that our fears are manifesting, and unless you can slay those, we need to keep moving," Rynhart clarified.

"Makes sense, I suppose," Emma said, "Dream realm, nightmares. What's next? We wake up at home in our beds and the entire ordeal was all a dream! I wish." She paused for a moment to catch an approaching creature with a gout of flame, "Let's move, then, before things get worse here."

It took a moment for Parlina to react, currently focused on a spot just behind Arrow. For all her talk of ignoring the demons, there were tears in her eyes, their colour changing to aquamarine as the druid made to set off in the direction she had proposed earlier. "Lady Natalie said that we were in a dream realm, so someone has to be controlling what we see. We find them, and maybe we can start to figure this out."

The journey through the mist felt like it took an age, fraught with glimpses of unearthly shapes as well as those that were all too familiar. None came close enough to present a threat - it seemed that the group's acceptance of the futility of fighting the creatures of this realm had caused them to abate. Talk was sparse and muted - by and large, silence hung over them like a blanket thicker than any fog. The atmosphere of the ethereal valley did not invite idle chatter.

Eventually the group reached the foot of a staircase that ascended off into the white distance. Stones cracked with age led up a mountainous ridge, and the faint shape of a building of some sort was visible at their apex. The air was eerily still as they climbed - normally height would be associated with wind, at least of some form - nothing so much as a breeze disturbing their hair.

At the top of the steps, the ridge levelled out into a wide plateau covered by a paved courtyard. The stones were uneven, weeds pushing through the cracks and sections having given way to the wear of time. The remnants of several buildings lined a pathway that led to an impressive structure - a temple, by the looks of it - largely intact, though a portion of the front entrance had caved inwards. Thick stone pillars had held up a portico that now lay piled as rubble over the steps.

Despite the wariness of the group, there seemed to be nothing whatsoever around them anymore. Even the shadowy shapes that had lingered just out of vision had seemingly absented themselves. Despite this, each of them couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was watching them. No number of searching examinations of the ruins provided anything but false alarms, however.

They were all on edge by the time they reached the entranceway itself, picking over the crumbled stone and passing into the temple halls. The entrance hall formed the majority of the structure - a large stone chamber built in such a way that spoke of receiving many visitors. Empty fireplaces were built into sections of the wall, but any furnishings had long since faded through the passing of time.

"Not here." The little druid, who was currently leading the group through the abandoned building, paying no attention to the doors either side of the spacious, but eerily empty hall. Her eyes were focused but unseeing; the earlier excitement had long faded into quiet, contemplative silence as she padded her way across the cracked stone floor. "They aren't here."

Emma raised an eyebrow, "They?" she inquired, eyes wandering around the cavernous room. "Can I ask who 'they' are? I thought I was the one hearing voices."

"Hold on," Arrow interjected, "There are tracks on the ground here," he said, frowning and gesturing at the dusty stone. As he'd said, scattered across the floor in dragging patterns were a number of trails of claw-like prints in the dust. "This place isn't as empty as it seems."

Parlina cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the blood mage, nodding absently. "Spirits. Not like mine though. They are... unpleasant. Not kind." Then she turned her peridot gaze forward once more, slowly drawing out her stave from its place tucked into her belt, "I think Sir Arrow is right. We should be careful."

"What about this place hasn't been unpleasant?" Brent grumbled from one side.

Emma shrugged, "At least we'll be well rested when we get out, right?"

As the others spoke, Arrow's attention was still on scouring the room for threats. His bow was still held ready, with an arrow nocked to it. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. And then there it was -- a floating half-figure, that of it which was visible vaguely humanoid in shape. A harrowed and gaunt face seemed to stretch outwards from it in a neverending scream, but just as soon as he'd made it out, it was gone, replaced by a different yet similarly twisted maw. A spectral flash of reaching tendrils flared from it for an instant as Arrow yelled out in warning, "To our right!"

He fired his arrow off, for what little good he thought it would do - more out of reflex than anything. It passed straight through the spectral creature even as it drifted away behind the column and-

Arrow blinked, looking down at his extended bow and missing arrow with an expression of confusion. Any and all memory of the creature he had seen had vanished as soon as it disappeared from view. "Wha-" he started, "What just happened? Did I just fire an arrow?"

Emma's staff was in her hand as she searched the area Arrow had fired at, "What do you mean? What did you see?" she demanded, "Don't leave us hanging now."

"What did I see? I don't ... I don't remember seeing anything." the soldier replied, confused.

Talos grimaced, "There's trickery afoot," he growled, "Mindgames. This place is getting into our heads."

"You weren't seeing things, Sir Arrow, but that's not what we should be worrying about." Parlina pointed down at the stone floor with the tip of her stave. "It's one of them, but it's... If it could harm us by itself, it already would have. We need to keep going; we won't get far by shooting at spirits up here."

Emma exchanged a reluctant glance with the rest of the group, but nodded her head. "Alright, then. Let's keep that in mind, then - still, I'd play things on the safe side. If it looks like something's about to bite your head off, probably best to avoid it. Who knows, these things might be smart enough to double bluff!"

Still somewhat unnerved by the gap in his memory, Arrow nodded. "Okay then, let's keep moving. The sooner we reach this 'they' the sooner we can deal with them and get out of here."

As the group pressed forwards, more glimpses of the wraith-like creatures would be had, all forgotten as quickly as the first. As they neared the far end of the hall, however, something more substantial took shape before them - something more familiar. For a second time the dream realm presented them with what appeared to be an impenetrable line of soldiers. Muskets were levelled at their faces.

Emma paused, hesitating, but even as she did so a globe of shielding formed before them. Talos met the blood mage's gaze and shrugged. "Better safe than sorry," he muttered.

Arrow eyed the gunmen with obvious unease, grimacing. "Let's just keep moving, it's just another illusion like before." he muttered, shaking his head.

At that moment, the muskets loosed. The crack was deafening this close, almost impossible to avoid flinching at, and the smell of acrid smoke filled the air. No bullets hit Talos' shield, however, leaving the group unharmed. They exchanged a glance before moving forwards, stubbornly advancing on the line of soldiers.

'Don't leave us!'

'How could you let us die?'

'But you always know what to do!'

As the group moved forwards, the sound of voices behind them stopped Arrow dead in his tracks. He turned his head to look back only to be greeted by a field of half-dead men and women, clutching at the stone and trying to pull their wounded forms onwards.

'Your sister told you this was suicide!' a blonde woman choked, blood running down her face from a bullet wound in her skull.

'You did this!' an older soldier yelled accusingly, clutching at the sword in his chest.

"No!" Arrow yelled, "Light, get out of my head you blasted spirits! How dare you use these faces against me!"

"Pull yourself together," Emma interjected, "You said it yourself, they're just illusions - it's not real. Whoever those poor bastards are, they're just shells of memories. Don't get yourself worked up over them."

Parlina, after a moment's hesitation, moved to raise a hand to touch Arrow's forearm, green eyes concerned. "Lady Emma's right. They are using your doubts to make you afraid, but..." A pause, then she smiled sadly, turning her gaze on the spectres that haunted the soldier so. "You are stronger than their will. I know it."

Arrow grimaced, nodding his head with a sigh. "I know," he said, "But it's painful, still. It's not all lies."

They moved on once more, the musketmen fading from view before they reached them. The door that Parlina was leading them towards neared as a flash from within the group brought all eyes onto Emma.

"What?" the blood mage asked, blinking. "What's everyone looking-"

Her words were cut off, then, as a spiral of blackness burst from the floor to envelop her. Those nearest her took an involuntary step backwards away from the swirling energy. It cleared as quickly as it had formed, but what it left behind wasn't Emma.

'Suffer!' cried the distorted face of the abomination of flesh and bone that had taken the place of the blood mage, tendrils sprouting from her eyes and a second face screaming out of the side of hers. 'Free! I am free!'

Talos reeled away, crying in disgust. "Light!" he cursed, clenching his fist, "No - this is another illusion. There's no reason for-" the mage paused as if to run his own words over in his mind again, "No reason," he went on "for her to lose control now."

"So what the hell do we do?" Shana demanded, "Surely she should just be able to make herself known, right?"

The abomination lurched forwards towards Talos, clawed arm lashing clumsily towards him.