I had visions. Some so tremendously nightmarish I would never retell the tale. Others so murky I had to find others to help.
Visions of a strange city, maybe a temple.. I could not tell which
The visions plagued me but I journeyed. Bleary-eyed and slack-jawed I traversed the land looking for a clue as to what this place is. Where it was. Some spoke in hushed whispers as I passed, my gaze passed over them and they turned to hide their faces. And I didn’t know where all this was coming from. Bewildered, I kept moving, from village to township, hillside to vale. And at every stop, every night, every bed another vision found me.
They started with form, patterns I recognized and shapes I knew. Then as time moved the visions became dreams, the dreams turned into nightmares. First the mists, a theme among themes.
Then to a land blasted, torn and rendered inhospitable. Flooded and risen, cursed and poisoned.
As I fell ever downward I knew not where I would stop.