Struggling to keep your eyes open, you call upon your
power one last time, pouring it into the floor beside you, willing it to rise and guard you. The world fades out as you fall back, landing on something soft and warm, a faint rumbling echoing in your ears.
You wake.
Something is off, but you aren't sure what. Before you rises an imposing, airy arch. Beyond it you can see a colonnaded balcony well-lit by the orange-red glow of the midday sun. Advancing slowly, you step up to the carved stone railing of one of many alcoves along the walkway, gazing at the countryside. You don't know where you are (though you feel that such ignorance should be astonishing), but it is perched on a mountainside overlooking a broad, green valley dotted with farmsteads. Small groups of people pass back and forth behind you, all dressed in the same pale yellow robes that you wear, along with the occasional lone individual dressed differently. This all feels very familiar, despite the total lack of confining stone tunnels and murderous creatures.
A hesitant footstep breaks you from your reverie, an uncertain voice speaking up,
"E-excuse me, but could you tell me where the chamber for the Contact Ritual is? I've only just been accepted as a novice this week, and I want to prepare for the acceptance ceremony. Oh! I-I'm sorry, my name is Stebios." The speaker is a rather plain boy, younger than yourself, narrow-chinned and high-browed. He nervously rubs a hand through his short brown hair.
Health:
Dreaming
Equipped:
Pale yellow robes
Inventory:
??
[] "Of course I can help you. I'm ______."
[] "This isn't real! You aren't real!"
[] "Heheh, I've forgotten where it is myself. Let's go exploring! Oh, you can call me ______."
[] "Sorry, I'm new here myself. Actually, where are we?"
[] Say nothing.
[] Say nothing and stare as awkwardly as possible.
[] Write-in.