Perchance to Dream
Extracts from the Personal
Diary of
December 2006
After a bit of
heart searching, I have decided to accept some weapons training from MI13. I
don’t like the idea of going around with fire-arms, but with what we are up
against violence is regrettably sometimes necessary. It has the advantage that
every training session counts as “work” so I get a paid a daily rate on top of
travelling expenses. It isn’t making us rich, but it does mean we have enough
to buy adequate food and fuel. After blowing our savings-for-winter on
materials for jewellery Emelda Harris was going to
buy, that was in some doubt.
I had a chat
about weapons with Andy Price. He convinced me that I really need to learn to
use a pistol. He is running some training sessions at the MI13 in-door range.
One of the other students is Jimmie Wainwright, who does not look at all well.
He seems an OK bloke, but he really isn’t trying.
I met up with Eliza
and Belinda. They have each received packages from Jimmie. They contain some
herbs and identical notes. The herbs look like cannabis but smell different.
They are almost certainly related, but none of us know enough botany to guess
how closely. The note reads…
“Chew the leaf
when retiring and chant ‘Harr harr hass koom
yar koom ssssss Dejthoth’ and repeat
until slumber intervenes for a festive surprise. By the way, this is a social
thing. Don’t do it alone.”
Adam, Eliza,
Belinda, Barbara and myself met up at Eliza’s flat to
try this. Everyone except Barbara was game. We all sat in on upholstered chairs
or sofas, took some of the herbs and started the chant. Pretty soon we were
drifting off. It was like we were still there but the furniture wasn’t. Then we
were in this completely empty room, lying on the field in the form of a cross.
It was about square with a completely plain altar at one side, an archway on
the other, lit by niches in the other two walls containing green flames. It was
completely bare except for a note on the altar, which read…
“Dear
Friends,
I know you
are probably very confused. Try not to be. You are in the city Dylath-Leen, a somethat dangerous
place, but not overly so, if you are careful. Do not speak to the merchants
from the green galleons.
Leave the
city by the northward gate and follow the river Skai.
Once outside the walls of Dylath-Leen, you will be in
the Open Lands.
Ask at the
first dwelling that is not built of black basalt. Ask for the
Yours with
the best of wishes, Jimmie”
It was only when
considering this that we noticed that we were naked. Even then it didn’t spook
any of us, even the ladies.
The door lead into an antechamber where there were four black
habits. We each put one on and found that they all fitted perfectly. Thus clad
we walked outside in to the street of a dark and dank city.
We didn’t have
any idea where to go, so we walked up the hill. Presently we met a turbaned man
who we asked the way, and he directed us back down the road. On the way we encountered
a man being chased by two foul creatures. They wore clothes as thought to pass
as men but were clearly not. At the pursued man’s urging we fled as well.
As the
opportunity arose, we hid. As the opportunity arose we hid. Adam and I took
refuge in an armourer’s, Belinda in another shop. I asked the armourer, who
thought of us as potential customers, what the creatures were and he told me
that they were “Moonbeasts”. Both his reaction and
that of other passers-by implied that these creatures are despised and to some
degree feared.
The mystery man
and Eliza eventually went to ground in a temple, which the Moonbeasts
decided against entering.
Once the
pursuers had withdrawn, we all met up again, and the pursued man gave his name
as Alex. Alex knew enough of the local geography to interpret Jimmie’s
instructions. He also told us that the turbaned man was almost certainly one of
the merchants from the green galleons that we should have avoided.
We left the city
and followed the river. It seemed that we travelled a great distance as though for
several days although night did not fall. The countryside was much brighter,
colourful and inviting than the city had been.
As instructed we
asked our way. At a farm we enjoyed the farmer’s hospitality for an hour or so,
including a very decent meal (although Belinda, who did not partake and stayed
outside, swears it was only a minute or so).
Finally we
arrived at Ulthar, a place with an extraordinary
number of cats. The temple was easy to find. On arrival it seemed that we were
expected. We were taken into a side chamber and presently Jimmie Wainwright
joined us. In real life, Jimmie has been pretty sickly of late; pallid and
under-nourished. Here he was hail, hearty, tanned and evidently a person of
some wealth and position. He told us that he is moving here permanently, and
will shortly be resident in Celephais.
Jimmie
took us into town and entertained us with a sumptuous banquet. Half-way
through, Barbara (damn her) woke us up.
I
really must find out where to get some more of that weed.
Monday 18th December
Jimmie
Wainwright is dead of an over-dose. We are invited to his funeral; his will has
an explicit reference to us. Strictly it only names Belinda and Eliza, but
it is clearly intended to cover all of us. Obviously, given the need for a
post-mortem and so on, there is no chance of holding it before Christmas.
The
funeral: Adam, Belinda, Eliza and myself all attend. There are two distinct
groups present. There are his family and their friends, who are clearly very
upset. There is also a group of younger people, of Jimmie's age, who look like
they follow alternative life-styles, and are conspicuously unconcerned, even
jolly. The family clearly take exception to the younger group, assuming them to
be drug-takers and at least partially responsible for Jimmie's death.
We
are invited to join the family but Adam and I decide to have a quick chat with
his counter-culture friends. At first they are very reticent. However, when we
mention that we had met him in Ulthar, the mood
changes. They seem surprised and pleased that we are ‘travellers’ (presumably
their name for visitors to the dream-lands). One lady said that she was 'Doria' in the dream-lands, and suggested we visit her in Hlanith. None of them seem disposed to volunteer any
real-world identities.