Zenithral raises an eyebrow at Arannis.
He's usually not this...emotional. He must really care for Ilmadia after all.
"True, she probably doesn't have the Ten Town's interests in mind. However, I doubt it's a trap for us. This isn't the first time one of the towns has been a gathering point for enemy forces, though...why that one?" Zenithral thinks back to his visions. There was something he was still missing...something that should be obvious.
"I need a moment," he says, stepping away from the group.
With this new knowledge, Zenithral figured puzzling over it might be worth another try.
Fluphy, can you help me recall that montaged vision again? (If Fluphy wants, Zenithral will cast Heroism on him.)[ +- ] Zenithral's Vision
Zenithral's visions seem less fluid than before. Once they seemed like gazing into a clear pond, where every so often a ripple would pas over the surface and change the perspective of what lay below it. Now, however, the images and scenes change much more erratically. He realizes that he has seen many of these before, and then his stomach flip-flops uncomfortably as he recalls his first vision in Easthaven, and he is unsure whether he is viewing a memory of a past vision, the current vision, or some strange blend of the two.
The images seem to have nothing in common beyond a fragmented sense of urgency...
An ancient oak tree. The Great Oak of Kuldahar.
Something distorts the vision. A star, falling from the sky?
A black wolf that sits and waits. The symbol of Kresselack, the Black Wolf. The Vale of Shadows. Jhonen...
It burns as it falls, leaving a trail of smoke. Buzzing in the ears.
A robed, headless statue. The Temple of the Forgotten God, from where the Heartstone Gem was stolen. Tunnels, trolls, snakes. Mother Egenia. Yxonumei.
Incredible speed. Awesome power. The falling star radiates both. The buzzing gets worse.
A dragon skull with an eye socket of terrible depth. Bilewing. Poquelin! Those robes and that script...
Pain. Burning, agonizing pain.
A disembodied, spectral hand that claws towards the sky. The Severed Hand. Erestor. Lance and Mona. Arannis. Aeri?
Light so bright as to wipe out all vision. Blazing, furious heat. Still falling.
A pool of frozen water, something dark and indescribable beneath its surface. One of Icewind Dale's great lakes, perhaps. Lac Dinneshere?
A person in the light. Falling? Or flying down on wings of flame? Sword in hand. A woman's face, beautiful and terrible. Tears of frustration. Of rage.
A furnace glowing red and orange with molten slags of metal. Ilmadia? Wherever this means, Zenithral's mother is there!
A pool of writhing darkness below. As force of brilliant, raging light, the figure hits the pool. And is devoured.
Sorrow...
A single shard of crystal that pulsates with pale light. Reflexted in its surface is Myllandra's strange, hooded visage...
