APPENDIX B : Solister's Scrolls
Tale of Horron
A Simple Scroll
APPENDIX B : Solister's Scrolls
Tale of Horron
A Simple Scroll
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The Tale of Horron I'm going to repeat a simple tale for you. A tale in which I have not conjured up the words from imagination but instead a tale which has the tell-tale ring of truth. I have added small bits to what I was told firsthand; but these small bits I believe to be accurate in their stance. I merely elaborate and draw logical lines between the pieces of fact I heard from one who had witnessed the events first hand.
The creature that many know as Horron was once a dreamer long, long ago. A dreamer like any other.. Having a simple sphere or five. Having Arts, experience, two legs and even a CloudsBreak shard much like any other dreamer. Perhaps the only thing that truly separated him from others was one thing: his ambition. His ambition undoubtedly rivaled a collective of a room full of the sphere-seekers of today. Many other teachers of his day saw this, some of them outright refused to teach him- Afraid of what he would do with the power he sought so earnestly. So Horron began to look elsewhere for the power that he must have. The greatest source of it all, in fact. The chaos that lurked outside the thick walls of UnderLight. Find it, he did. The raw power of chaos makes everything else pale in comparison. He had found a way to draw off of, and focus this limitless power to his desire. News such as this did not stay behind a veil of shadow for long, and the Houses heard of how he was obtaining his power and were appalled. One of the Houses rulers spoke with it a bit idly when they had heard of it and decided to simply deal with him now. So they decided to collapse him and dreamstrike him, and be done with it once and for all. They sent out a hunting party comprised of three ninth sphered dreamers and a sixth sphered dreamer, who would be doing the actual dreamstriking. Their minds eased as they watched the party exit the facade... Though that party was never seen again. A short hour after they had left, they were unlocatable. A few dreamers even lived within the same CloudsBreak shard, and they reported that their beds lie empty and unkept. They were never seen dreaming again. Another, at times, violent house realized that the power of this solitary dreamer had been underestimated and began to formulate a plan to flush him out with larger numbers and finally strike him from the dream once and for all. In the end, they did not have to worry how to find the frequently-mind-blanked dreamer. For he walked right into their facade. The dream was much different then. At any given time there was at least fifty dreamers guarding the facade. These ranged from the low sphered dreamers of the fourth and fifth spheres to the higher-ups. On this day, there was seventy-eight waiting. Immediately the entire house readied their weapons and descended upon him. In the initial overwhelming onslaught, Horron was collapsed into a soulsphere. Several dreamers had begun the invoking of DreamStrike the moment they saw him enter, and cast it upon him while his soul was vulnerable. To their utter amazement, the art had no effect. "Even the mundane art of dreamstrike would not effect him". Mere seconds after his collapse, he regained his avatar and begun to fight again. It continued like this for not much over a minute, in the end all seventy-eight of the dreamers that stood upon that facade had either fled or had been struck from the dream forever by Horron. He used not blade or chakram, only the "Arts" he had learned from using the raw power of chaos-- if they could even be called Arts anymore. After this dreadful display, he left the house and went back into seclusion. During this time, an occasional dreamer was found missing from time to time. It was whispered that the dreamers that mysteriously vanished had been ones to deny Horron training in the past. Maybe his ambition was only exceeded by his taste for revenge? It had become even worse now. For not only had his avatar been twisted by his use of chaos, so had his mind. Many in the dream grew fearful; especially those that in the past had scorned Horron and his ways. The Elders of Keepers of Eternal Shadow thought of a plan, to be rid of him once and for all. - I also believe, that at this time Keepers of Eternal Shadow would have had no such desire of Chaos within the Dream as it's been proposed recently. - They would lay a trap for Horron. They would wait for him to come to them as he had come to others at the furthest point in the dream from Threshold. There, They would be ready for him. They knew he could be collapsed, so their plan was to quickly collapse him... and in the moments before he regained his avatar, to will him out a tear they would create in the walls of the Dream-City to the torrent of raw chaos that awaited him on the other side. They were sure of the plans success, all they had to do was wait. Horron was a far stones throw from stupid. He knew it was a trap, but perhaps his amazing power blinded him to the fact of taking a more cautious approach then simply taking his mindblank down and walking into the room in which he knew the Elders of Keepers of Eternal Shadow were waiting. A battle immediately ensued. Chakram, Offensive Arts, Abjure and a veritable wealth of others Arts now unknown to the dream flew at the form of Horron. True enough that they had been ready for him, but his power had grown since he destroyed the dreamers in the facade as the elders fought with a desperation since unknown. Desperation for their lives, their house and quite possibly the rest of the dream. His power was near-staggering. Frequently he roared out, collapsing all that heard his voice- Causing them to quickly soul evoke restore - ten more of them stricken from the dream by Horron during this delay. He could even stop the chakram blasts speeding his way with a simple glance, only damaged from behind. When they thought all hope had fled and had lost as many as half their numbers, he finally collapsed into a soulsphere in a last-ditch effort. Quickly they did as they had planned and willed him out of a small tear in the wall of the dream-city. Lord Xenus plucked up his essence left behind and tossed it after him as they resealed the wall. They were sure that they would never see him again. Well, Quite Simply, They were wrong. Horron perhaps grew more powerful when thrust out into the chaos. He now has many incarnations. That of the most powerful Nightmare. That of a Darkmare. And that of an incarnation to strengthen an avatar. This can be seen by trying to locate Horron. Then try locating Horron with a slight pause after his name. And lastly, Horron Darkmares are seen. Such as Foulmoth and numerous others. The Darkmare Horron has most of Horrons intelligence, the other incarnations being simply a reflection of his raw power. We know which one has his intelligence, which ones have his power. But which one has his ambition? Perhaps that stayed behind as his spirit and essence was thrust from the dream, in the minds of those that would descend upon the secrets of his dangerous power. Or maybe you're wondering about where exactly he was thrown from the dream? If you're curious, it now has the name of Horrons Lair. |
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What I say after this are matters of educated conjecture of things I have uncovered from a variety of differing sources, with a small bit of hinting and allusions to it by the ones who was there first hand and would witness the events after this. |
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Some of the elders that were present descended upon Horrons notes of what he had done, and how he did it. Perhaps they said it was to keep others from following in his footsteps, but might it have been for more selfish reasons? At any case, it is whispered that contained in these notes was one that others learned to master, one of Horrons minor "Arts" that he wrote off as not powerful enough, and it came be known as Finger of Death. Undoubtedly the 'credit' for this Art falls to one who learned of the Art through Horrons notes first. What of Keepers of Eternal Shadow? Is this the pinpoint time in which their beliefs changed to what they've been hinted at today? A desire for chaos within the Dreamcity? Was it the knowledge in his notes that did this, or some sort of infection cast down upon them, much as had effected Horron, by a gone-awry ceremony? What is the book that Mi'raj was said to hold when performing ceremonies involving the summoni withdrawn from Horrons original notes? Does Horrons original notes still exist? Can others take his path? In my overwhelming desire to answer questions, such as how this all began long, long ago with "Who was Horron?" I'm often met with more questions such as these. Perhaps they must remain unanswered for now. Maybe it's better off that they always remain that way. Sincerely, Solister
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A Simple Scroll
Hello, I'm Solister... >Solister mumbles under his breath and crumples up his writings, speaking lightly to himself. "No, No...." Fellow Dreamers, Some of you remember me, Some of you know me... And even a few of you have yet to hear of me. I'm pleased to be able to write this letter to you all; I've found in my times alone that often dreamers take such small things for granted. The simple act of evoking a common Art, The ability to roam a land freely... The simple communication you share with others each dream. For the first time in quite a while I'm attempting to leave a scroll amongst the others in hopes it can be read and understood. Hopefully it will be. I've found through a great deal of concentration; I'm able to read an occasional scroll in this large pile. To you, this might seem a small step or even meaningless.. but to me, it is one of the large and important ones I've seem to be making with leaps and bounds lately. Comparatively, I'm more happy at being able to write this letter than when granted any sphere or art; assuming for a moment that it will be understood... with the small exception of my halo, which meant so much more to me than my learning of Train. Why is such a small thing so very important to me? Having not gained a single Art, Plateau or experience point for.... >Solister looks up from his writings, furrowing his brow as his hand comes up to stroke his chin almost on instinct. " How long has it been? It's so hard to tell...." >Solister looks back down to the paper before him and resumes writing. ....Having not gained a single Art, plateau, sphere or experience point ever since around the time of the Chaos Eclipse and Zovorodi's return has made many raise their eyebrows in my direction. Others have even been more direct with their inner feelings; finding that strange and perhaps even contrary to the nature of their dream. Having no ability to use a single one of the Arts that I once learned; at least, not in the way I once looked at them, makes it hard for me to understand it any other way... Many ask 'Why?'. 'Why did you choose things to be this way?' or 'How did this happen?'. For me, very few things in my short life have seemed a conscious choice. More of a great number of chances and calls of random, with a small barely perceptible thread of reason and fact which intertwines itself so carefully as to be elusive. With every dream, I still look for it to understand why I've become the way that I am. As best as I can understand what others have told me, and I do reassure my perception and account of these times are so vastly different as to make me wonder if others have made them up, I'll try to write extremely briefly. After and during time of the Chaos Eclipse; something happened to me. My personal memories of this time are confusing, conflicting and shaded at best. As if looking at a dream through rose-colored glasses. Where it has an air of familiarity to it, but a world of difference. Others claimed I became "Split into two avatars" (Yes, I too find this rather hard to believe) One of which was named Trok'ter, the other who had a particularly keen affection be called by the shortened version of my name, Sol. Whatever the case, or truth to that, I DO remember a few things of that time clearly. One of them is a dissenting memory that makes my desire to understand the others less powerful. Of lying in the Rings of Woe in the Chasm of Souls... Certain that I was dying and that the next breath I took would be my last. I remember breathing out clearly; I can nearly still feel it leave my chest as my eyes closed.....The dream never again to be the same. What happened in that moment that made me feel as I am about to tell you? What caused it to happen? Many ask. Yet another example of me trying to search for the elusive thread of glowing reason. It remains a question unanswered, like many of mine do. It is hard for me to describe the way that it felt.. the things I saw and heard. I even use the terms feel, saw and hear very tentatively as still even they seem to fall far from my experiences. My 'home' - The place I am when not dreaming - is what I call it simply. Imagine a place that feels like a home around you; it's shifting 'walls' built not of wood or stone but dredged up from Imagination itself. The 'painting' on the 'walls' done not with colors or from some artists brush; but inspired by the soft hand of 'memory'. Light shed upon the home by a glowing 'sun' of 'Insight'; making you aware of all that is in it and around it with a perfect and stunning clarity. Limited not by two eyes. Now imagine this type of place as being a far-away peak a thousand planes away from the place in which I wake...And you have found a small hint of that thread of understanding. When I returned to the dream, consequently at the "Bridge of Memories", some say 'weeks' later, I found that the dream looked much more like my home (Though still being very far from it) than the way in which I remembered the dream to be. I saw the forms of many things; thousands upon thousands. I spoke to them more clearly than I am writing to you now and there was no answer. It was like this for a short time until a few had sense enough to listen. Those first few were Nziri, Erasmus, Kard, and Shadruith. Soon to be followed by others. I found that other dreamers spoke very strangely at first; but I learned to understand them more and more with each passing meeting. I know not for sure how they saw and heard me, but others have said I had the vague appearance of some sort of cloud. (Yet another thing I still find rather unbelievable) For the longest time, I traveled a dream in which I could not see others that would speak back to me, except for a select few. My loneliness while dreaming at times became almost tangible feeling much like I could pull it over me and walk about with it on my shoulders as if it were a heavy jacket. A time after this, Erasmus had a plan on how I might be able to see and hear everyone throughout the dream. (Though, I still protest the problem was with everyone hearing and understanding me and not the other way around) For exact details of what it was he performed and the inner workings of it, you would have to speak with him. My knowledge of the theory behind it is limited. What I do know is that many came to participate in whatever plan he had thought out, it somehow involving the power cones present in Alliance of the Eclipse's Power Room as well as the telescope in the Astronomy Lab. After it was finished, I found my view of this dream to have shifted yet again. I found it awkward to control what to show to others and mold spoken words into a way in which the Vision stored within the Power Cones would understand. I learned quickly, however. This was still not The Answer Erasmus and I had hoped for, it had it's limitations. It would only cover the plane it originated in, Alliance of the Eclipse, and the nearby plane of Lambent. If I stayed further than that, I was shown two completely different things at once; Each battling for control of my perception. I found it to be extremely confusing, disorienting and at times infuriating and could not stand it for very long. With this, I was granted the freedom to speak with everyone; but not everywhere. My travel was now restricted to two planes of the dream. That of Alliance of the Eclipse and Lambent Flats. It seemed the cloak of loneliness which was about me would not be removed; simply lightened for a time. That time seemed like an eternity in itself and only feeling like yesterday. Being a so-called 'Vision' (And I make a note again, that I am most certainly not just a vision) had it's peculiarities, such as it still is to this day, in that I did not have Arts, I did not have experience points as most have, I did not have spheres and I could not touch even the simplest of talismans.. My fingertips passing through them easily as if grabbing at the tendrils of a long forgotten memory. Which brings me to somewhat recent events, in the relationship of all these others. Nziri sought a way in which I could roam the dream again, seeing and hearing others as clearly as my own thoughts as well as be able to touch others and hold items; and perhaps even regain the Arts, spheres, and experience in which I once had. Again with Nziri, the exact details of what was to be performed must be spoken with her. I was not there for the creation of what I am about to speak about and have only been told a limited amount of information regarding it. I do know that through some sort of process that she, a fourth sphered dreamer, managed to forge a curious ring for me. It also seems to differ from other talismans in that it is constructed out of more elements than just DreamSoul. Infact, even insight elemens are created through use of dreamsoul. I believe it was constructed out of all four: Insight, Resilience, Lucidity, and Will. It did not work to the extent expected; but it does in the most important ways. It allows me to wander the dream in each and every plane; speaking to all within it. I had almost gotten used to the feel of that cloak I had atop my shoulders for so long that it was staggering. Once again, I'm able to do the most simple and basic things of the dream. See others. Hear them. Speak back; and be understood. Communication. The very reason the dream was created I'm allowed to do unhindered once again. A side note to Dr Carl G Jung if he should happen across this letter, who gave me my very last task for an Art that I could learn long, long ago. It was a task for a simple Art, though one who's nature I wished to understand better. It was for the Art of Give, a plateau to thirty... Or was it forty? No matter. The task was to seek out a number of dreamers; asking about what the most important thing that was ever given to them. I questioned a number of dreamers; Their answers ranging from special forged items to pure Abyss shields. I had collected what any teacher would have accepted for it, but just recently I realize it to only now have been completed. The most important thing I've been given is love and respect; both of which I had never asked for.. And had never demanded. Both things that I also thought, I never really wanted. These things given me has led to something I have only hoped to have. My freedom. My freedom to roam the dream and to be able to hear and see most within it. Maybe the true nature of the art of giving is giving something to another selflessly. Something that is not asked for, Not demanded... but seen as deserved or needed. The love given to me by my students, my closest friends - and of course Nziri - has meant the dream to me. So if you should happen across this small sidenote, Dr Carl, I happily announce the task complete. Do not bother with seeking me out within the city of UnderLight to grant me the Art, I'll happily take thirty minutes of conversation with you instead if you feel that you must, as I've already been "granted the plateau" by my small revelations over the months and learned a greater understanding of the Art of Giving through my small evolutions over my time alone. >Solister places his writing instrument down and brings his hands up to his face, breathing out tiredly. My concentration in forming the words for this letter dwindles. I had wanted to communicate so much more. I had wanted to tell you more of what has happened to me, of what I've learned. I had wanted to tell you of the stories I heard long ago, things I have learned. I suppose I shall have to calm my excitement for now, until I find the state of mind to be able to try and communicate comprehesively to you here... It is so much easier in the dream, Won't you find me there? Sincerely, Solister
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