Vashir's Journals

I had a disturbing dream. I can only recall one part. A tall figure with a gold mask led me by the arm among the dead as if it was a wedding celebration. I heard many voices but no lips moved. I strained to breath, but my chest didn’t move. The tall figure spoke with each figure as he walked among them, laughing and joking, as if they were alive, but they made no reply. I tried to cry out, but without breath, my tongue fluttered in vain.

It’s late now, the moons still up. I write this by candlelight, since it woke me up. It could be important with this talk of the people of Vvardenfell having nightmares. Or perhaps the stress of being here has me more paranoid than usual. But I’ve had nightmares before like this. I should not discount it.

I’m going back to sleep though I dunno if I’ll be able to.