Return of Dragonman
Normally I’d recount the whole D&D session from last night, this site except that it was relatively uneventful.
The party moved into the next cavern, buy more about where they found three berserkers (“…beserkers…”) and the dwarf’s old friend Langdedrosa Cyanwrath. The half-dragon was pleased to see Gina and wanted a re-match, so he instructed the berserkers to leave her to him.
Over the course of the battle, the dwarf and the monk were downed, but got back due to some long-distance healing efforts by the bard and and druid. The beserkers were tough customers, but ended up falling to the party’s strength. Cyanwrath, however, was too amused by the dwarf’s resilience, and opted to extend their rivalry through to another day, and he walked out of the cavern while the party dealt with is henchmen.
This is really just a place to record this for posterity, because I had a really unusual dream last night that I found amusing.
As far back as I can remember, I was at my aunt’s old apartment where she lived when I was a kid, and there were a bunch of people there — including a small dog that was really a demon who wanted to “bite a chunk of flesh out of [my] ass so I would bleed to death”. The dog was actually about the size of a cat.
At some point, I was outside in a neighborhood with…someone else…and the dog, who took to following me around and reminding me that he was out to kill me in the most ineffective ways possible. It wasn’t a priority, apparently, because he just followed me around.
The neighborhood was old, and reminded me of the old city of Quebec, with it’s narrow streets and tall stone buildings. I saw my father driving in the opposite direction one street over, and figured I’d best get home, but I didn’t know the way, so I…
…at some point I ended up in a kind of underground tunnel system. I had a map, but it was a gold cylinder about the size of a standard TV remote control. I had to find where I was, and then I had to rotate the cylinder around to follow the lines which represented the corridors. At a “T” intersection, taking the left path would lead to a dead end, so I took the right path…
…which lead to a horse ranch. Not like out west, but like the ones we have here in New England. It was sunny, and the ranch was a bunch of fields ringed by wooden post fences. I ended up at one end of a crude stable which was little more than bays for horses with a roof over it. I had to traverse the stable lengthwise, moving through these bays that were filled with farm equipment and — of course — horse crap. Lots of horse crap.
At the end, the stable opened up to a kind of drive through-sized opening beneath the roof. On the right was a wide open field. On the left was a woman who was working with a horse in another field. For some reason, I knew I should sneak around and not be seen, but in that open area under the roof was a pony, and the pony saw me.
This was less of a pony and more like a dog (the demon dog had since moved on to something else, and was no longer with me). He wanted to jump up and play, but I was concerned he’d give away my presence. I ducked down behind some barrels near the right side of the stable just as the woman in the field noticed the pony acting strangely.
Sure enough, she came over to investigate, and there was really nowhere for me to go. I told her I was trying to get to Nashua, that my map had led me through the horse farm, and that I had gotten lost. She didn’t seem concerned or angry, just…
…and that’s when I woke up. I have no idea what the hell I ate last night to cause this kind of a dream.