Dreams and the ponderings thereof.

Last night I had a dream about dwarves, magic, flowers and earth spirits. The dream started off with a woman dwarf spying on a camp of racist humans talking about their mission to wipe out the last of the dwarves in their empire. After she overhears their plans to ambush the group she travels with she heads back to the caravan. She tells the leader of her group the news and they set out to a mountain pass that would be impassable if not for a hidden city that was a major religion center for the dwarves.

The caravan arrives and the perspective of the dream follows the scout to find that the city is seemingly abandoned and crimson flowers sprouted everywhere around the city. The scout is horrified to see these particular flowers because while beautiful they tell a grim story of what happened to the inhabitants. In a daze she exits the city to tell her people what happened to the city.

The inhabitants were sacrificed to the mountain they live under rather than be enslaved to the humans as would inevitably happen and the flowers wre a marker of where they died. The scout rather emotionally questions their unjust persecution under the human empire. The leader of the caravan and the elder of her group debate and console each other on the unfairness of the world and the merits and demerits of courage, stupidity and faith.

That night the scout lay in her cot, thinking to herself about the state of the world and the dwarves struggles the past century. She prays to the Earth Mother before falling asleep and receives an answer in her dreams.

The conversations were all in beautifully spoken shakespearean, mixed with some more modern terms. It flowed so well that when I woke up it baffled me that I was even able to dream the conversations so well put together as they were. I wouldn't be able to write even a simple exchange from that dream right now even if I tried. The world I'd dreamed of was deep and enrapturing and I wish I'd written down even half of what was spoken in the dream because it was tear inducing at some points because of how impassioned the scout got and how beautifully her words were spoken.

But, as with nearly every dream it faded fast when I woke up. All I remember about the scout was that she looked a lot like the dwarf scout from Dragon Age Inquisition, I can't remember her name, but she's the one who would give you a rundown of the area when you went somewhere new.

Dreams can be utterly beautiful and surprising sometimes.