The Green Star

## The Green Star that Hates

### Dreamers and Viewers

The first to be visited by the Green Star was Havard, who asked Hesken about its appearance in the sky. **Gaela** also admitted to having been visited in a hallucination by this star, and **Xylis** has been shown three visions at this time.

### Contents of the First Dream (Gaela)

Gaela spoke of a dream wherein the crew savagely attacked him, and to defend himself, he cut them down with equal animalistic intensity. He said that the light of the Green Star lit his way and allowed him more strength to fight.

#### Imagery of the First Dream

* Green light
* Beastly crew members
* Bloodthirst

### Contents of the First Dream (Xylis)

You dreamt of the people of Anterrande being part water. A great green light enveloped the world from above, and the people began boiling away to steam as they writhed about. They blamed you for this, and tried to attack you as they turned to nothing. They couldn’t hurt you, but one eventually knocked you onto your back. You lay there sprawled out on the ground as you gazed at a giant green star above you, your eyes turning to steam as you began to scream.

### Contents of the Second Dream

You awaken in a cold sweat. You look around you wildly, but you are alone. Your companions remain asleep in their bunks, seemingly oblivious to your frantic movements and laboured breathing. You sit up, intent on calming yourself. You take a moment to orient your dizzied mind, then you set off in search of some tea to calm your nerves.

You silently stalk the dark and empty corridors of the ship, making your way to Alva’s galley. You open the door quietly so as not to wake him, then put the kettle on. As the kettle begins its whining to let you know that the water has begun to roil inside of it, you hear another shrill tittering ringing in tandem with the steaming air.

Cautiously, you duck outside, scanning the empty deck. The sound comes from the captain’s quarters, though no light peeks from under the door. You move slowly, and reach the center mast before the door flies off of its hinges. A hunched figure emerges, resembling that of the captain save for the tattered clothing, gaunt frame, and wild eyes. It begins the ply the wood from the deck, chittering horribly as it goes about its destructive task.

You break from your trance, and turn to leave, nearly running into another creature in your haste. A twisted form with goat’s feet and ringed, curling, horns crawls across the deck from the hallways leading to Alva’s room. It breaks holes in the deck as it goes, muttering madly to itself as it goes.

More sounds alert you to several other decrepit mockeries of crewmembers strutting about the deck, snapping ropes and tearing wood as they go. You can hear even more from beneath, splintering pieces of the ship that you hope are not vital to its continued buoyancy.

A horned figure – so twisted you cannot tell if it was once Baal or Cosette – meets your eyes, and you feel your blood run cold. It moves towards you, body twisting and snapping in unnatural ways as it hisses and spits. Others screech as they take notice, and leave their handiwork to close the gap between you and themselves. You hold up a hand to fend them off and they recoil in disgust. You look at your outstretched arm, turning it back and forth. It is black and green, mottled and slimy. The creatures retch as they turn on each other instead.

Flesh tears and bones break as they descend in animalistic savagery. Any who are thrown too close to you in the fray backpedal in fear and horror. You touch your face and find it disfigured. Your thoughts are wrenched back to the world around you as the ship, now in tatters, begins to sink. You frantically run downstairs, the creatures fleeing as you move near, wailing as they go. You arrive in your cabin, water already knee-deep on the floor. You grab your belongings, a few of them spilling out as you shove them in your pack. Your mirror falls into the water and you fish it out. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the dim, reflected light. A shadowy face you’re glad you can’t make out in detail, and emerald eyes, glowing bright like stars.

You awaken

### Contents of the Third Dream

The smell of charred flesh wafts through the air. The informant collapses in a smoldering pile at your feet. You turn and begin to walk away, unmoved by your handiwork. You got the information you needed from him. You know where she resides, and the informant won’t be letting anybody else know.

You approach the main square, your task the only thing on your mind, when you hear a shout. You turn, and see a guard leveling a crossbow at you. You stare him down, your green eyes reflected in his. His fear is apparent, clearly aware it was you who slew the young man that now lies between the loyal guard and yourself. Your eyes flash brightly for a moment, and he falters, blinking away the discomfort.

The momentary distraction lets you walk backwards into the crowd. The guard looks away. He know he should be arresting you, taking you before a judge and watching as you are hanged, but he can’t bear to look at you. You are everything that should not be, and so he’d rather assess the body, something that still has to be done, he supposes. You continue on your mission. You’re so close now, and you will not stop to bother dealing with an overzealous lawman who sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong.

You approach the stone-made house, simple in its design. An old man sits outside the door, whittling a stick. You can’t tell if he’s a well-disguised guard, or simply an ancient relative in the wrong place at the wrong time. You raise your hand and mutter some words under your breath. He turns will suspicion, but not quickly enough to dodge the bolt of crackling energy that flies from you outstretched fingers. He collapses on the ground, twitching in agony as his body spasms. You almost continue before you notice the item he was carving: a small pyramidal shrine. You zap him again as you open the door for good measure. The scent of charred skin hits your nose for the second time that hour.

Inside the house it is dark. You follow your instincts, heading up the stairs, feeling your way. At the top is a door. Quietly leaning against it you listen, holding your breath in anticipation. Quiet, ragged breathing can be heard from beyond. You take two steps back and begin your spell, quietly at first. Your orb glows and your voice crescendos as your spell reaches its peak. You hear a whimper from beyond just before the room explodes into light. A brilliant flash blinds your darkness-adjusted eyes for a moment as a cyan bolt of lightning shatters the door to pieces.

A small woman, though hardly young, is curled in a heap at the other end of the room, a knife clutched in her hands. You approach confidently, excitement welling up inside you at the prospect of completing your task. You do this not for yourself, but for your companions, for everyone. You hold your cane outwards, daring her to make a move. She obliges, lunging forward with her dagger. She gets halfway towards you before the cold slows her down. She falls to her hands and knees, shivering as ice forms over her body.

She looks at you, as if asking why you’d do this. You scowl, and produce a small bag. You turn it upside down, and the contents spill out: a radiant bullet, a grey scale, a broken keychain, a scrap of blue dress, and a shattered spyglass. She doesn’t know what they are, of course, or who they belonged to. She doesn’t know that this is all that’s left; that her damned beliefs caused all this; that these are but the latest victims. But she understands your intent, your fury. She starts to say something, perhaps begging for forgiveness, but is cut off as ice coats her throat. You don’t let up until she is frozen solid. You give her a slight push, and she topples over, breaking into a thousand pieces.

You sweep the pieces away with a slight gust of wind, revealing the small book she had tried to keep from you. You pick it up, brushing frost from the cover to reveal the symbols you expected: a circle, a square, and a triangle, coloured blue, gold and red. The next stage of your journey has begun. You will save this realm if it’s the last thing you do. You smile widely, emerald eyes flaring.

You awaken.

### Contents of the Fourth Dream

The Gods lie dead. Their heaped bodies slough and shift as what passes for blood leaks out upon the frozen ground, staining the ice and snow a triumvirate of colours. You stand tall and proud. After a minute of basking in your accomplishments, you give a long overdue gaze upwards. You thank the stars (one in particular, really) for their guidance and power. In response, a green thrum echoes throughout the cavern of the world. Other beings of lesser power might be broken should this wave of power pass through them, but you stand strong, basking in the glow and the entropy.

The bodies that lay before you quake as the thrum washes over them. You chuckle to yourself. Slaying them was easy. After all, you’ve become as they have; you too have merged with this world, growing in power and twisting the plane to your will. But you are different than they were – you did not squirrel the world away. No, you sought to free it, to depose of the tyrants. And to avenge your fallen comrades too, you suppose. Though had they reached this point alive, they’d surely have been killed by the Gods themselves somewhere in the crossfire, weak as they were.

Your thoughts having reached your crew again, you pull a few items out of your bag: a strange grey rock, blue coral, a box of green, and several more. You toss them into the sea. You don’t need them. You never did. They never did. A fool’s errand, all of that. You twirl your cane in your hands and set off to find more beings that would steal and stagnate this land. The green thrum washes over the scene again, this time coming from you.

You awaken.

### Gifts and Powers

Hans discovered a note penned by Havard that incites rage and disgust at the inadequacy of those around the reader; the words themselves were imparted by the Green Star before they were put to paper, but aren't in a language either Cosette or Hans recognized. There is more to the text than either of them read, but it is not for them to see...

**Xylis** was able to read the full contents of the note.

He felt as if he had been taken inside the Green Star and learned it's name and it's hate; the desire to rend, tear, and destroy. He was able to keep composure, and came away *mostly* unscathed from this brush with his patron.

### Assumptions

Eyes seem to be some sort of importance due to the detail of eyes in Xylis's dreams. Eyes might be a metaphor for something that might be one of stars tenants.