Lucid

Lucid dreaming is a type of dream where the dreamer is aware of their state and that they are in a dream. Becoming aware of your dream can amount to some control over it, or none at all. For some, becoming lucid and aware will only happen in traumatic events that the dreamer recognises as impossible and beyond belief, to the point they notice the small details and remember they are dreaming. In these situations, it is more often than not that they have no control as they can become so scared that it is impossible to think of anything else.

Drix's dream began in an ocean of white fog, like a grassy plain that stretched endlessly into the horizon.

He walked foward, and his family of goblins said their greetings to him, speaking in a language he did not know. He stared at them blankly, telling them he could not understand, no words came out of his mouth. His family looked at him oddly, their faces twisted into hate and rage as weapons flung to their hands.

Drix remembered, he was not a goblin, why in the world would he be able to communicate and talk peacefully? He reached his human, or rather, halfling-orcish hand to his stilletto.

They charged at him. Their reckless attacks and behaviours were expected from pitiful and stupid goblins like them. A halfling-orc such as himself would not cave into idiocy so easily and fast.

Drix stabbed the point of his stilletto through the throat the of nearest goblin. Blood sprayed out like a fountain, covering the halfling-orcish face of Drix. He slashed at a different goblin, its throat tore open wide with no resistance. Another stab, another goblin dead. Everything was red now, blood went up to his shins. More goblins, they surrounded him, he still killed them, stabbing and slashing. The blood didnt stop him, it moved around his legs without offering any resistance.

The ground filled up with blood, like a bathtub did with water. It soon covered his waist, but it still didnt hold him back. He moved freely in it like a fish. The blood filled up faster, it past his shoulders in less than a second. Now the resistance came, it felt like he was submerged in thick honey. He could barely move, his limbs crawled at a snails pace.

He could not breathe, he realised. Panicking, he tried to swim up. The honey thick blood seemed to turn back to a water like consistancy as he swam upwards. He swam and swam, he felt like he was at the top of the blood every stroke but he still didnt touch air.

His naked body lurched out of the bathtub, water dripped from his torso and short hair. He sighed, resting his body against the side of the luxourous bathtub. Clearly he needed a bath more than he believed, as it was comforting enough to make him drift asleep.

Slender pale arms wrapped around his chest from behind. The touch of a soft naked body against his back. Legs wrapped around his own under the water, they were quite large and powerful, yet very soft and smooth. He leaned back, pushing into the soft body of the lady he knew he loved. Small breasts pushed into his back, relieving pressure from his body endlessly. Her face came right next to his, pressing their cheeks together. She was warm, her breath was hot, warming his chest exposed to the cold air for far too long

Blonde hair that exuded a radiance of golden holy light fell from her head to her shoulders, tickling the back of his neck. The celestial tattoos, attest to her holy heritage, shone in his peripheral vision.

The tattoos ran around her face, accentuating every small detail forged by the gods who made her. So lucky he was, so have some like her.

Crimson water began to flow into the tub, it snapped him back into reality. He grabbed the sides of the porcelin bath, climbing out. Grabbing the hand towel off the impeccably clean dirt floor. He rubbed it on his arms, drying his body off. Then he picked up his pants, grabbing it by the hem and pulling it on.

Drix walked out of his room in his gambeson, it shone red and illuminated the hallway. Every shiny porcelain tea cup, which lay ontop of every porcelain shelf, reflected the bright light into his eyes. He squinted, putting his hand infront of himself with his eyes closed. Shuffling one foot infront of the other, shifting them over the cold porcelain flooring, toward the room next to his.

The porcelain door was closed, it was locked from the outside. It had many locks, covering the entire surface in them. He grabbed one, a combination lock, and moved the numbers to be 55, everything unlocked and the door opened.

Maximon held the door with his other hand, holding it open. Seeing Drix, he said, "Ah, hey, come on in."

Fully opening the door, he beckoned him inside and head toward the couch. Drix entered, spotting Zenoda and Umber sitting together on the couch, making something with their hands. He reached the opposite couch, placing his butt on the cold hard surface of fur covered stone. Drix reclined, the hard edge of stone dug into his back.

Maximon sat next to him, he rested his right ankle on his left knee and swung his arms over the back edge. They sat very silent for a short moment, staring at the ceiling. Drix rubbed at his eyes, tired and sore from stress. He brought them away, looking at the blood on them. Spooked, he flinched backward, tripping over something on the ground.

His butt hit hard stone, whatever he tripped over lay under his legs. A dead body, the female bandit he killed, staring directly into his eyes. Her eyes were unfocused, but they met his like she knew he was there.

A sudden voice shocked him, "You killed her! You monster!" It was loud and brunt, brutish even.

Drix looked up, it was a large orc, next to whom was a petite halfling lady. The orcs face was painted with hate and anger. Shreds of pain and disgust shined through the surface of his face. The halfling lady was less angry, but far more disgusted and afraid. Lines covered her face as she scrunched up her face like she smelt something rancid.

Refusing to believe such emotions could be evoked into his parents at his own sight, he turned his head. Nothing was behind him, and it made his heart drop, sinking into his stomach. He turned back, fearing the consequences of his actions, afraid of abondonment.

His parents were not there, only the goblins that stabbed them dead. They were srawled out on the floor, bleeding from every orafice and then some more. Stab wounds, from goblin daggers, cover the entirety of their body.

Right, goblins, the bane of his existance, the crux for him to destroy and slaughter. They killed his parents, he reminded himself, resolving himself.

He sat up from the couch, heading to the full height mirror hung on the opposite wall. He took off his helmet, the blonde hair set free from the metal cage. It stayed in its messy bun, helpful for keeping the helmet tight and providing some more cushion. His green eyes and brown nose were a little pink at the edges, attest to the tightness of his favourite equipment piece.

Looking hinself in the eye, he resolved himself, "I WILL kill all goblinoids, never look back."

A sharp pain entered his side like a kick in the ass. The rouge grabbed at his side, lurching his body inward at the pain. His body hit against the wall, using it as a support as he slid to his knees. Supplying pressure to the sharp pain, he felt warm liquid slip through his fingers. Shreding his perception behind him, he barely caught a sight of his attacker.

A loud voice in common, something he would later learn was, "Get the fuck up!" echoed him awake.

He blinked his eyes to the sight of a darkening sky, purple at the edges of the trees and fleeting blue. Grasping at his helmet, he stretched his entire body, shaking a little bit. The sharp pain in his side didnt subside, and his heart was still racing from his dream. Soft cushioning and warmth from the bedroll beckoned him back to sleep, but the sharper pain was stronger.

Lifting his body upward into a sitting position, he watched as Madove turned away from him, staring through his closed visor, directly into his eyes. She walked away, uninterested in his pained side, undoubtably from her boot.

The rest of the group were packing up, placing what looked like utensils and tools into their packs. Maximon, who seemed ready to leave, was standing at the edge of the clearing, speaking with a stranger.

The two of them looked focused, and Maximon seemed more intense than ever, putting his entire concious on the topic. Drix understood none of it, as usual, though there were a few words he knew by heart.

Goblins, hobgoblins, and kill. Three words he was ever so familiar with in common tounge. They said the words quite often, many times more than any normal conversation should ever have.

Supposing it was related to the task Drix was going to help with, he got ready to leave as well. Making sure everything was place, and it was, he rolled up the bedroll gifted to him by Maximon and carried it on his side. The two of them were still conversing, so he simply waited while they talked.

Zenoda and Umber were equally quiet. They wordlessly packed up a large amount of materials and items. Each thing looked to be related loosely to each other. Fabrics connected to leather, decorated fabrics that were loose but seemed made to be apart of a larger item, and equally decorated leather peices which also seemed to be a small part of something.

Reflecting on the pieces, he noticed the simularity to their current gear. Zenoda's robes were decorated very well with lots of warm colours. It was mainly made up with blue as a primary colour and black as a secondary. It was a wonderful pair of clean robes, likely something she took great care of. The golden trim and accent work added to its valuing, not to mention its wonderful sewing work.

Umber seemed far more humble with her fur armor. Even that though, seemed custom made and far easier to wear than the itchy alternative. Her pants were all one piece except for the knees, which seemed to be a more stretchable fabric the same colour as the fur. It was perfectly preserved and fit her exactly. Her upper body had the most work done on it, with beautiful subtle designs that functioned to help her move at the same time. Over her shoulders was a well skinned wolf that functioned as her hooded cloak, one far larger than normal and likely a dire wolf.

Madove's own set of leather amour seemed keenly close to the pieces Zenoda and Umber had made. The black leather with secondary red and tertiary gold accents was a master piece. He never saw her struggle to move in it, and she tended to do particular positions which would be a challenge in any other leather. Metal spikes studded the armor on her shoulders and knees, her boots were very spiked, they even seemed serrated and usable for cutting. Only a small part of the boot was clear of deadly protrusions, the part she used for healing and waking him up. The armor itself was immaculate, many leather pieces of beautiful art that layered over each other like waterfalls. She likely had the best looking and most expensive armor of the group, though each person could sell their gear for farm land if they wanted.

Maximon seemed more humble with it, as his common clothes and chain shirt did not provoke any sort of awe. Regardless though, it was all still clean and in great condition.

Looking down at his gambeson, mismatched gloves and boots, and his leather armor he had yet to put on, he realised just how underwhelming it all was. Shaking his head, he donned the leather armor.

Unbuckling here and there, taking off clips scattered there and here, it was a hassle. The only fortunate thing being that it was still big on him, allowing him to slip it past his helmet. Once on, it was a pain in the ass to buckle up again. It must have been a show, because the three ladies found it humorous enough to giggle about. Sighing about his misfortune, he got comfortable in his extra layer. It was rough to wear, the gambeson provided little comfort under it. It was hard to touch his toes with it on, making him have to bend his knees.

Sighing for the last time, he simply took the armor off his mind, focusing on something else. The stranger who was talking with Maximon was gone, his tracks led back into the forest. The human bard was now talking with the three girls instead, discussing something serious with them. Drix was apprehensive about approaching, but knew it would be unwise to not listen in, even if he didnt understand everything.

Joining the group's circle, he recieved a wave from Zenoda, who got a wave back from him. Maximon was still talking, words thats were known and unknown to Drix were repeated often. Hordes, hobgoblins, goblins, leader, and so on. It was enough to picture something big happening, something that probably would have reached that one group in the mountains eventually.

"You ready to leave?" Maximon asked, snapping Drix out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I think so." he responded, still a bit in thought. He pat himself down, he had no possesions other than his dagger and stilletto, a shortsword, and his armour.

They left the clearing behind swiftly. Walking at a far swifter pace than before, they shot through the forest like an arrow. With the assistance of Umber they paced at a hastful walk, toward the mountain and away from the human settlement.

Drix couldn't wait to ask, "Where are we headed?" curious beyond belief.

Maximon pointed to the sky and stated matter of factly, "To the biggest goblin settlement on this side of the mountain!"

Drix stared at the grey tips of stone that peaked ever so slightly over the tree canopy, heart pumping in exhileration. Oh, how he would love to kill every goblin in there.