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As Astra poled the skiff, the treelike shapes became more distinct, and
she discovered they were, indeed, trees. However, these damp things had
not seen the light of day in what must have been ages. Languid dark
branches stretched out like claws in the mist, distracting her. She was
caught completely unaware when the skiff ran aground. The ground that met her feet was grey, like the mist that waited just on the edge of her view. It was as if all the color had leeched out of the land. Wary of her surroundings, but needing rest before she could continue, Astra of Aquilaria bedded down for the night, using supplies she found in the skiff. There are those that say the Southern caves extend very far indeed. There are those that say that even the Dragon who rules the central cavern does not know the full extent of the passages in which he dwells. Then there are those who speak of Nod. Nod is a land where dreams can cut one to the quick, and the blood is all too real. Nod is a land where nothing can be taken at face value. Nod is a land ruled by the Sleeping Lord, whose dreams...and nightmares...form the landscape in which one walks. And what Astra of Aquilaria does not know is that she sleeps in Nod tonight...
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8/23/1999 9:04:18 PM
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