011 - A Dark Dream

The group arrives at the inn.
Rafael is feeling thoughtful; he has to decide what to do now that Cordona is gone. He decides he will just re-aim that energy at stopping Varn.

That night as they sleep, Elysia has a dream. It begins in a tranquil, moonlit forest. The familiar scents of home, earthy, rich, and alive, fill her warrior nostrils as she walks barefoot on soft moss. Her claws sink gently into the cool ground. In the distance a waterfall glows silver in the moonlight, its roar muted as if far away, despite its proximity. Strange fireflies dart around her, their light dim but soothing, guiding her steps deeper into the forest.
Suddenly, the soft rustle of leaves stops. The forest air stills. The fireflies drift upward, forming a glowing arc in the sky. As she looks closer, she realizes it resembles the shape of an ancient symbol her tribe once revered. A voice deep and gentle calls her name, "...my daughter!"
She says, "Hello?"
There is no response. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees two figures emerge from the mist. As they draw closer, she recognizes them as tabaxi; they are her parents. They appear younger than she remembers, their fur sleek and eyes vibrant. Her father stands tall and strong, his golder fur shimmering faintly in the soft light. Her mother, a healer with gentle yet fierce eyes, steps forward with a sad smile. They look at her, their expressions full of pride and sorrow.
"My daughter!" her mother says again, her voice echoing through the silent forest. "You have become everything we hoped you would. But we bring you a warning."
The fireflies circle, their light dimming as shadows creep along the edge of the forest. The leaves rustle again, but this time the sound is fearful and urgent.
Her father speaks. "Our people are in danger." His voice is strong as ever, but there is a gravity to his statement that chills her. "To the north, ancient evil stirs. They enslave our kin, forcing them into chains of darkness. We cannot intervene."
"But you, you must act," her mother finishes, stepping closer, her eyes wide and pleading. "The stories we once told you of the cursed ones, they are not just tales. The dark race, the ones whose hatred burns like fire, have returned."
The air grows colder and suddenly the forest fades into a dark, barren wasteland. She begins to see visions flash before her: her people in chains, their spirits broken as towering, cruel figures loom over them - faceless, yet full of malice. Weapons gleam and the cries of her people fill the air, the voices swallowed by harsh northern winds.
"There is little time," her father says. The dreamscape shifts, and his voice becomes distant, as if carried by the wind. "You must gather allies, head north. Find the source of this evil and stop it, before it consumes us all!"
Her mother reaches out, her spectral hand brushing Elysia's cheek. "We are proud of you, Elysia. You must be stronger than ever. The fate of our people lies in your hands."
As the dream begins to blur, the forest fading into mist, her mother continues, barely louder than a whisper. "Beware the shadows, child. They come for you."

Quickly, the atmosphere begins to shift. The comforting warmth of her ancestors' presence is replaced by an icy chill that freezes her to the core. Shadows deepen, stretching unnaturally, and the whispering wind dies down to a deathly silence.
Before her, where here parents stood, darkness twists and coils, taking shape. Tall, imposing, cloaked in malicious energy, the faint outline of blackened armor gleams in the void, etched with symbols of long-forgotten oaths, now perverted into something cruel.
The air reeks of decay and betrayal as he steps forward, his form towering over her.

In the bedroom, Sr. Bridie sees Elysia tossing and turning violently in her sleep, sweating and muttering, distressed. Sr. Bridie reaches over to shake Elysia awake, but at the touch, Sr. Bridie collapses to the floor as she is pulled into the dream!
She sees a half-elf figure emerge from shadows. Varn, the fallen paladin. His once noble face is gaunt and corrupt, a pale mockery of what it once was.
His eyes burn with a sickly yellow light, and staring at Elysia his lips curl into a twisted smile. "Beware the shadows, child?" Varn's deep, raspy voice mocks as he strides closer. "How quaint. Your parents offer you false hope, when they know what awaits y-"
Sr. Bridie casts Sacred Flame. It fizzles out, missing him.
Rafael seeing Elysia's distress and now Sr. Bridie also unconscious, searches for some nearby influence that could be affecting them. He finds nothing unusual or out of place.
The dream warps violently around Elysia and Sr. Bridie. The forest darkens, and the blackness fills everything with void. The fireflies wink out, and even movement feels difficult as the darkness seems to physically press in.
"You think you can stop what is coming?" Varn sneers. "Your people, your tribe, they are nothing but pawns in a far greater game. Slaves? That is a mercy compared to what I have planned for them." He steps closer.
Sr. Bridie casts Bless on herself and Elysia.
Elysia struggles against the pressing darkness, but can't break free. Varn steps closer, reaching towards her with his gauntlet-clad hand. Elysia calls out to Sr. Bridie, "Help me!"
Sr. Bridie casts Command on Elysia, "Snap out of it!" (Matt allows this) She shakes off the darkness and can move, but at the same moment Varn's gauntlet traces along her cheek, cold as death, in the same spot where her mother had touched just moments ago. The contrast is jarring.
He hisses, "You will find no salvation in the north..." Dropping to a whisper, he continues, "...only despair. But I welcome your defiance! Come, fight me. Watch as everything you love crumbles to ash in your hands."
In the inn, the rest of the party can now see as Sr. Bridie and Elysia toss and turn, that something sinister is happening.
Rafael tries to shake Elysia awake and is also pulled into the dream.
Goosifer sees all this, and nips at Sr. Bridie quickly and gingerly. He is also pulled into the dream.

Initiative!
The group faces up against Varn together.
Pretty quickly, Varn hits Elysia with a pair of vicious slashes from his longsword, which was empowered with dark magic. Sr. Bridie revives her. She does a little damage with her Spirit Guardians which look like Flemish giant rabbits with red eyes.
Rafael does some damage with shortsword.
Goosifer bites Varn, and tries to shove him with telekinesis. Varn slashes Goosifer, doing a lot of damage.
Elysia tries to force herself awake, but isn't successful.
Rafael gets a crit on Varn.
Finally, Sr. Bridie puts her hand in Varn's face and casts fireball centered on his mouth. Varn, the trees, the mist--everything is swallowed in a fiery explosion.
As his form vanishes, the group can still hear Varn's voice for a moment, saying, "The shadows do not come for all, they come for you. You are mine!" His laughter echoes in the void and the dream ends with a snap.

Everyone except Rafael awakens in the inn, where there is a pounding on the door and a voice calls, "FIRE! Everybody out!"
Rafael, seeing everyone disappear from the dream instead of dying, tries to muster the courage to end himself in the dream to wake up. He doesn't succeed.
Elysia hauls Rafael out of the room on her shoulder. Sr. Bridie tries to help wake people, feeling certain that she is the cause. Goosifer flies clear of the chaos. Elysia lays Rafael down and dodges through the remains of the inn and together they wake several more people, fighting their way through the smoke.
Elysia rescues Lysandra (the innkeeper).
Sr. Bridie finds a locked door at the top of the inn and breaks it down, and carries an unconscious halfling through smoke and heat to safety.
Sr. Bridie casts Mass Healing Word and revives everyone. Frantically apologizing, she tries to help the fire fighters with Bless. The halfling thanks her for saving him, then she turns to Lysandra and explains about the dream and the fireball and everything.
Rafael coughs on some of the smoke from the inn and wakes up.
Lysandra explains that she saw a rider on a black horse throw a torch into her alcohol. The group donates gold to help rebuild the inn.