Thread: The Wizard and the Goddess Amulet (w/Chaos)

The room was wide and dark, stretching endlessly to either side, but with ceilings that hung oppressively low. The thick, musty air smelled of dust and the unsettling tang of iron. At the end of the room were two torches, and between the two a large symbol was etched deeply into the crumbling stone walls. There had once been glyphs too, but they were faded and illegible now. The symbol, however, burned through the darkness still. It was an eye. Almond shaped but with a slit for the pupil. Beneath the eye, or stemming from it, was a vertical line, no, a stream of red. It trickled softly in the eerie quiet. Closer it came. The silence of the hall was broken by the sound of voices. Whispering. Urgent voices. Pleading voices. Angry voices. The symbol moved closer. The red stream became clearer. Blood. It was blood. Sliding down the watchful eye in an oily stream, it gathered in a scarlet pool on the floor. The voices continued to grow in volume. They brought visions. Visions of death. Flashes of violence and gore. Of men and women bathed in blood. In ecstasy or agony or delirium the writhed beneath the symbol. Closer. The voices were screaming now. The walls were closing in. The blood was filling the room, the weeping eye filled the darkness, a woman's voice spoke above the rising chaos and... With great effort, Esmine ripped herself from the dream. She came to breathing heavily, her sheets soaked with sweat. Her eyes darted nervously about as the real world slowly came back into focus. Her apartment was dark, but instead of torchlight she could see the cold florescent lights of the city filtering through her blinds, illuminating the dull interior of her apartment. Shakily, she crawled out bed and hobbled to the bathroom. It was routine now. The dreams had been coming consistently for over a month. She paused at the sink to splash cold water on her face. Her reflection greeted her dismally in the mirror. Her skin, normally creamy almond with a natural blush, looked pale and sickly. Her eyes showed the lack of sleep with dark rings under her emerald eyes. The lack of sleep was showing. With a heavy sigh, she combed fingers through her raven locks. She had started her internship only a couple months ago. There was no way she could afford distractions. Yet, it seemed there was no avoiding this one. I have to get that fucker back, don't I? Staggering back to her bedside table, she pulled open a drawer. There was a medley of papers and sketches and notes, but she was searching for only one. After some cursing and fumbling, she found it. A note with a name, a phone number, and a street address scrawled in hasty chicken scratch. This problem was hers, and hers alone. While much had been thrust on her unwillingly, the object of her torment was still her responsibility. The dreams seemed to be affirming that. Whatever chaos was about to be unleashed upon the world, she was at least partly to blame, she knew. However, she was sensible enough to know when something was very much over her head. She had left the world of magic behind when her grandmother had died over two years ago, but she still had a few connections. One had given her this referral. It would take money, and a fair amount of persuasion but this person, if she could find him, might be able to solve everything. Alright Mr. Samael, I think its time I give you a call. In the morning, of course.