[D8, LN, EVENT] What Dreams May Come

[Cearnach]

This is a roleplay event for 2 characters

A cry of profound distress splits the night. A door is slammed. The thud of running footsteps echoes down the hallway.

What are you doing?

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

Hoping that the cry had not come from as close as he thought it might, Geoffrey moved to make sure that his family was safe. He was in his bed clothes but carried an axe with him, rather than a sword, in case there was trouble.

[Llywelyn mab Iorwerth]

Llwelyn peeks out at the sound, sore from the events today but too curious at the sound of things running around.

[Cearnach]

The guards from the end of the hallway seem to have gathered around the closed door leading into William Longchamp's room. The Chancellor of the Duchy of Aquitaine seems to have been having some trouble. You can hear the sound of moaning from behind the thick door.

Prince John is coming down the hallway from the direction of the Royal Apartments, also apparently keen on investigating.

The guards have begun to pound on Longchamp's door.

"Chancellor! Is everything alright in there??" one of them calls out.

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

"Please respond Chancellor, we need to know you're alright!" Geoffrey shouts from behind the guards once he gets near.

He uses a language that might be more familiar to invite a response. He knew that he tended to respond quicker to calls in his native tongue.

[Cearnach]

The moaning is punctuated by a shriek of pure terror, the sort that is difficult to live down.

The guards flinch backwards from the door and look at Geoffrey for some sort of direction.

"Do we...do we go in, sir?"

[Llywelyn mab Iorwerth]

"Oh God's Blood" Llwelyn curses in Welsh under his breath.

"Well, are you going to help him or not? " He asks the guards?

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

He doesn't wait for the guards, moving to open the door. And if it's locked, moves to kick it open..

[William Longchamp]

A firm kick later and the crew outside is inside, revealing William Longchamp, rising suddenly to an upright position in bed, pale as a sheet and sweating a small river.

"Wha--?" he frets, hands reaching out to pat at the blankets. "Where?"

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

"Are you alright Chancellor?" Geoffrey says as he approaches, but keeping his distance. Apparently the man had been screaming loudly in his sleep if what he was seeing was an indication of reality.

He waves the guards to stay near the door to try and prevent further embarrassment that this incident might cause.

[William Longchamp]

"I...I am not sure." He is panting, and his nightclothes and the bedsheets are soaked with his sweat. "I...I thank God that I am alive, but...what a strange and terrible dream! So real!"

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

With confirmation that it was a dream, Geoffrey lets the guards know they can step outside. He then peeks around the room looking for a cups wine so he can pour a bit for the Chancellor.

"You gave us a fright, chancellor. You were shouting in terror in your sleep. We'll can come up with some explanation for others, though."

"It was vivid then? Anything of concern?"

[William Longchamp]

"Sirs...sirs it was terrible! I was here at Westminster, looking from my window, and as I watched, the sun seemed to run away first south, and then east. And there it stayed, leaving us but a faint glimmer to live by. A mighty lily as far south as Durazzo wilted and died in that infernal twilight. The land refused to give up its bounty, the people were hungry, and the animals grew violent with each other. I saw a great hunting bird eaten by a rooster. I saw a two lion cubs murdered by a polecat. I saw a flock of sheep surround and crush a sheepdog, and pick clean his bones with their grinding teeth. I saw a fox crowned king in Nottingham, a hen's chick crowned king in London, and a lion lying dead in the Wash. And I realized that I was no longer here in Westminster, but in a cell in the Tower, watching the stars crawl ceaselessly across the sky."

[Prince John]

From his position in the doorway, Prince John listens with arms folded and eyes wide.

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

Geoffrey was not the superstitious sort. Perhaps one day he would look back on today and wonder, but for today crazy dreams are just that.

But he was also not one to downplay the concerns of others. His tone was calm and voice was soft.

"Take care and calm down. Things are fine Chancellor. You are in your room in Westminster, but nothing is going mad as all that. Perhaps anxiety or stress is giving bad dreams?"

[Llywelyn mab Iorwerth]

Llwelyn quietly starts too look around, inspecting the curtains and tapestries.

[Cearnach]

The draperies are tasteful, but done in the French style. Very few embroidered animals are on display, and certainly no polecats or sheep. Geometric patterns, mostly. Well-made. Actually, these could probably fetch a pretty penny in the London markets.

[William Longchamp]

"Perhaps. All this preparation for the Crusade has been getting me aggravated. Or maybe it was a bit of undigested beef. I've never had a dream so...so real, though."

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

"Should we call for a doctor or a priest?
To provide more expert knowledge?" Geoffrey asks, curious if the man would be interested in either option.

[William Longchamp]

"Perhaps a priest might be welcome. I am curious as to what it might portend. I feel it unwise to ignore it completely."

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

Nodding, he moves to the guards and sends one for a priest to join them.

[Llywelyn mab Iorwerth]

Satisfied that there is no interrupted assassin lurk, Llywelyn returns to the bed to the hear about this dream.

[Cearnach]

The arrival of an ordained monk heralded a second telling of the tale. The monk listened intently for a time.

"That's a dark one, and no mistake," he says. "And of the sort that could be portentious." He says some prayers over Longchamp for a moment, then offers a bit of analysis. "Animals consuming each other---endless night---the sun a-heading east could well be a gesture to the crusade. Not sure what to make of lilies dying in Durazzo. I'm sure the animals all stand for things as well, but...hard to figure what exactly."

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

"It's certainly an odd set of creatures doing very odd things. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me," Geoffrey says.

[Cearnach]

The monk sighs. "Well, all I can say is that I don't believe this is the last we'll hear of this. The dreams men have are sometimes fantasy, but every so often they are deadly serious. This one...is too strange to be anything but the latter."