Tarric could only shake his head mutely at Idunn's question about dreams that morning. But it was not a negative answer, by far. He simply could not bring himself to speak. He ate almost nothing, pressing his portion upon the others instead. Vara, Uthred, everyone needed it more than him. And when they moved on, his feet followed blindly where the group led, but his mind only remembered...
This place... He felt the cold fingers stretching out across the sky, rooted in Dol Guldur. They had insinuated into his dreams, laughing in their soundless way against his simple nightmares of drowning in endless muck, and twisting them into round after endless round of seeing the muck drag down his companions, one after the other, while he could do nothing to help. Again and again they had struggled, reaching for him, calling for help, and he could not answer, could not move. Could not even trade places with them, for what little good it might do. He could only watch as their hope, their faith in him, dulled and died as the swamp closed over their faces.
But that was not the end, oh no. Once everyone had suffered and gone, down to the smallest squawks from Vara and the last gold strands of Olwinne's hair... they lifted again. Up, out of the mire, eyes dead and blank and staring, and reaching for him.
The shouts of Idunn and Radagast at first just seemed more of the same, but then with a start they penetrated. The Beorning blinked as his dreams cleared away -- only to find reality nearly mirrored it. The shock slowed his reactions, but he was nevertheless set to fight or flee as needed only a beat behind the rest.
Assets Tarric and Olwinne both have +1 talisman vs orcs.
Berserker - (Combat Talent) |
Progress ▥= 1 tick, ▦= 2 ticks, ▩= 3 ticks, ⬛= full
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