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Dreams of the Aasimar Cleric
Relics of the Past Recovered pt. 1

Relics of the Past Recovered pt. 1

A Dream:

You find yourself in a room, smoke rising off the plaster walls and small bits of the wooden floor still hold tongues of flame. There are bodies strewn about on the floor most are covered in scorch marks some bear other wounds from sword or axe. In this room alone there are 9 or 10 of these unfortunates. A single door on the far side of the room is open and you can hear movement coming from beyond it. Of the bodies on the floor some are wearing armor some are wearing white robes, each of them is wearing a mask of some kind, some are smooth and look to be made of porcelain, while the ones in armor the front of the helmets are made into the shape of a face, some of the others in robes their masks are made of wood. The way they are scattered around it appears that some may have been dragged in here while wounded while others were thrown against the walls from some kind of spell or explosion. Most of the floorspace of the room is empty with the exception of a table next to a nearby wall. A figure enters the room, it’s longsword held in one hand and a wand in the other, he is covered in heavy armor from head to foot, the armor is scorched and blackened, with a shield slung over his back. He moves about the room kicking the bodies and stabbing any that still show signs of life. As he was about halfway through the room he stopped suddenly as the room filled with a bright light as it did you could see magical symbols on the floor. The armored figure attempted once again to push forward and once again came the contact with whatever invisible force held him back. A third time he tried and again he was repelled. He turned left the room and returned a few moments later, he was not alone this time there were others with him two more it looks just like him or hulking sets of armor, and one smaller robed figure. The one in robes was the size of a halfling or dwarf. He threw back his hood to reveal his head and face, skin on it black and desiccated pulled tightly against the skull that was clearly visible in places. The first armored figure moved toward the center of the room stretched out his longsword to the point where it collided with whatever invisible force hand held him back. It once again lit up with the same light and magical symbols on the floor that you had seen before and that had stopped the creature from progressing. The short robed figure stepped forward reaches out both of his hands and after a few seconds you see the light reappear before flickering out. The short figure then reaches out his hands again and another wall of light appears this one closer to the table on the near side of the room. After a few seconds of casting and concentrating on it’s magic, that wall of light is dispelled as well. Then a third and a fourth and a fifth wall of similar light are dispelled one after another each being closer to the near wall and the table on one side of the room. You can see the amount of effort and concentration that dispelling these magics has required of the creature. When the last one falls it leans heavily on one of the nearby armor clad creatures for a few seconds as it seems to gather itself. It then proceeds up to the table and the box that rests on it. It holds a single hand out over the box and with the other breaks the wax seal on the lip of the box. Magic comes out of the creature’s hand and reacts with some kind of magic on or in the box.

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Slowly he opens the lid of the box and places the lid to the side. Some more bit of magic comes from his hand and he seems to focus for some number of seconds on the magic, just standing there unmoving. He waves a hand and more of the armor clad beings enter the room, seven in all as well as a handful of other undead, hunched creatures with nothing but large deep black hollows where their eyes and mouths should be, as well as several incorporeal undead of various appearances.

They all file in and evenly space themselves within the room, the large armored protectors lining the walls nearest the table with the others taking up the bulk of the rest of the room.

The short figure takes a single step away from the table and pulls back the robe from his arms exposing his hands which are now not much more than bone. He motions to one of the armored creatures who then reverently pulls his sword from its sheath on his hip and holds it high into the air. With a nod of acknowledgement from the short figure the sword comes down and severs the right hand just below the wrist. The severed hand falls to the ground and seems to grasp at nothing for a few seconds flailing around on its own. The robed figure seems to experience no discomfort at this but instead turns back to the table.

With his remaining left hand he reaches into the box and pulls something out, it isn’t until he turns to face those assembled that you can see what it is. As he turns to show it to them they all kneel and bow their heads even the nearly transparent incorporeal show respect and reverence with a bowed head.

Held aloft by the short robed figure is a mass of black necrotic flesh, a hand. Unlike his own that remains now motionless on the ground this one is of course large in size likely matching its previous owner as well as having six fingers. He holds it aloft for a few seconds allowing those assembled to view it for a few seconds before holding it to his own arm, to the stump where his own hand was until just recently in place. The lights in the room that don’t appear to be coming form any individual source but are likely magical begin to dim and the room itself begins to shake, dust falls from the ceiling and where the short creatures is is now enveloped in an inky darkness. After a few seconds it clears and the robed undead stretches out its right hand, his new six fingered right hand. He balls it into a fist then stretches it out again seemingly to get a feel for it, it has reduced in size to meet his proportions but other than that has not changed in appearance. He reaches this new hand out and waves it back and forth across the room a single time. The bodies on the ground begin to shudder and shake then each slowly begins to stand. Grabbing up the weapons and equipment they had once wielded before they all make their way to their feet along with the previously kneeling attendants. One armored figure kneels over and grabs up from the floor the severed appendage, the original that he had removed and places it in a pouch.

They start in nearly single file to make their way out of this room. The robed figure leaving somewhere in the middle of the group of heavily armored figures.

You wake .