//------------------------------// // Nightmares and Daydreams // Story: Crystal Outlander // by Reykan //------------------------------// Itching. Burning. His skin flaking and discoloring more every hour. Growths and tumors spreading along his arms even as he rushed to complete his latest task, one that was to date the most difficult thing he'd ever done. He'd done everything he could to make sure this went quickly, as he knew what would happen in that cult hide-out. He knew he would be touched by that horrific disease, but nothing prepared him for the agony it brought. At first he thought his preparations were wasted, as nothing truly worrisome came after he'd been 'touched' by the cultist. So he took his time getting back to his boss with the news of the base's destruction. He hunted a few wild animals, cleared out a smuggler's den, and spent a few nights looting a Daedric ruin. Soon however, what was once a slight itching became more intense. A rash developed across both his arms. Every part of his body started to burn. Blisters formed with the rashes, making scratching them almost impossible without causing bleeding. Then the growths started to develop. By the time he reached his boss, his arms bled freely. By the time he reached his only hope of a cure, he couldn't wear his armor anymore, his skin was too sensitive. He rushed blindly through the tunnels, passing by other beings who'd been lost to the madness of the pain. He rushed the old one, took the item and rushed back to the wizard at the top of the tower. It hurt so much. The burning, the itching, the shifting of his skin, the feeling of his body being pushed and pulled at the whims of the disease was nearly debilitating, but he would not lose. He would not be one of those things wandering the basement, forever a lost, horrifically disfigured soul. He. Would. Not. Lose. Reaching the wizard, he delivered the item, he couldn't tell what it was, nor did he care. He was given a potion with a warning. It's success rate to date, out of hundreds of tests, was zero. It didn't matter, though, success meant freedom from the pain, failure meant death. Death was better than agony unending. He drank the potion, and waited. And waited. The wizard looked at him, giving him a wan smile, and said "I'm sorry, friend. It didn't seem to work. You just drank it too late. I'll make sure your comfortable downstairs." No. No, he couldn't let it end like this. He wouldn't let everything he'd done to this point end because of a stupid disease. He would- he turned to his arm, the agony intensifying as the disease accelerated. It's victim could not escape it, so it moved in for the kill. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, yet before his very eyes, the growths spread from shoulder to hand, eventually leaving only small nubs where his fingers had been. Soon, even those faded. Twisting he saw himself in the mirror, his once human face, no longer recognizable as such. And with every passing second, what few features he retained were lost to the sickness. As the pain overwhelmed him, the hero screamed. <-(0)-> The outlander jumped in his bed in a cold sweat, the nightmare from the previous night still fresh in his mind. Corpus, the touch of the mad demi-god, and the reason for so much suffering in Vvardenfell. Well, as much suffering as things that acted like NPC's can feel. He closed his eyes, calming himself down. Why a nightmare? His first dream in years, and it was a nightmare, and about something so horrific as becoming one of those things. It had been a near thing for him, as well, just barely making it to the wizard's tower before the pain became unbearable. Being back in a world where he could eat and sleep again was actually starting to be a pain in the butt. He wouldn't give it up, not after so long without the positives, but he seemed to be getting hit by an awful large number of bad things lately. Didn't he deserve some happiness too? Looking out the window of the Inn he was staying at, and seeing the sun just creeping over the horizon, he knew he wouldn't be getting much more sleep. He'd grab a breakfast, summon a monster or three, and practice his swordsmanship. Finally breathing regularly again, he reached for his blade, and stopped, before drawing his arm within his sight again. A stub greeted his eyes. And he screamed. <-(0)-> It had taken a while to remember his recent transformation. Only when the Innkeeper nearly broke down his door did the wanderer see the other pony and remember his situation. It was embarrassing, but after he'd calmed down and had a decent meal for breakfast(sweet, delicious pancakes, oh how he missed them), he started looking for an open field. There were a few things he needed to know. It took some asking around, as well as a few awkward stares when he forgot he actually needed to speak to the people, but eventually he was directed to the outskirts of the Crystal City. Strange didn't do it justice. He could see the edge of the barrier against the ice and the snow that the artifact manifested. Stopping in a field just outside the gates, yet inside the barrier, the lost one drew a blade, and switched one of his bangles for a permanent summon ring. There was no telling if the summon would work, if it would summon the same creature, or if the creature would be under his control, so he took no chances. In a flash of white light, the daedra appeared before him. It was large, nearly twice his size even leaning on all fours. Its green scales tapering into almost daggered points and it's jaw ending in a beak. The limbs on it's rear and fore legs both ending in claws made for ripping the life out of it's victims. A terrible cross between a raptor and a triceratops, and twice as intelligent as either, the creature stood before him, awaiting orders. Then it blinked. Then the creature started looking around, sniffing the air around it. He could see it in the creatures eyes, it knew this place was different, that this place was not home. But it soon relaxed, moving about the field he'd summoned it in, sniffing the grass, before curling up and basking in the sunlight. The outlander smiled; it was the moment of truth. Approaching his summon, he set his right glove to inventory, before reaching out his tan colored hoof and running it along the shining scales. The creature moved to look at him, but returned to it's basking shortly after seeing it was it's summoner that had touched it. It was a strange sensation, feeling the scales through a layer of fur, but again, this was why he was out here. To remember sensations, to allow himself time to recover from the sensory depravation he'd undergone over the last eighty years. Feeling brave, he started dropping things into his inventory; his helmet, his boots, his gloves and pauldrons eventually even removing his cloak and cuirass, though he felt a bit uncomfortable doing so. Eventually he was down to wearing only his summon's bangle, his spell-reflection necklace, and the Royal Signet bangle. It was indescribable, feeling the sun warming him again, feeling the calm breeze's caressing touch. The cool grass as it gave way to his hoof-falls, and smelling the bakery he'd passed on his way to the gates. He smiled, running and jogging and hopping through the grass, smelling flowers again, hearing insects buzzing. He'd done this before, he was sure of it, but it was so long ago that the sensations, the memories, they were lost to him. Eventually, his excitement wound down, and he returned to his summon. Rolling onto his back with his head against the creatures back, he dozed off. No need to worry about wild animals with a guard dog this large. <-(0)-> His dreamless sleep was interrupted by a low rumbling sensation. Was there an earthquake? That's what it was called, right? When the world shook? Snapping awake, his armor adorning his form within seconds, he whipped around to find the summon prowling towards a cowering pony that had approached him in his sleep. Calling the reptile back to him, he silently thanked Stendarr that the clannfear hadn't outright mauled the mare. "Sir, t-the council requests your p-presence in the throne room in two hours. They wish to f-formally thank you for returning the Crystal Heart to us." the female managed to say, though her eyes kept darting to his summon. "I'll head there momentarily, thank you." Stroking the creatures frill, he admonished it. "Be nice, you. You know not everyone is an enemy." After having delivered the message, and being assured that the lizard wouldn't attack her as soon as her back was turned, she made her way back to the gate. The lost however, soon found his eyes glued to her retreating form. More specifically, the hypnotically swaying part of her. He was knocked out of his hormone-induced stupor by a nudge from his side, and a chirrup from the clannfear. "Sorry, buddy, got a little lost for a second there. We should get going. We'll grab a snack on the way, if your good." The reptile perked up at the mention of food. The outlander started to the gate, his mind already wandering again. 'Crassius, your smut book's got nothing on the real thing.' he thought to himself. He knew he was pretty deprived when it came to interactions, especially with the opposite sex, but that was ridiculous. If something that simple was setting him off, maybe he was worse off than he thought? Only one way to remedy the situation. He'd have to do some studying. You know, for science.