The silhouettes moved in the darkened tent, shadows of the past - the   
whispering dead. Everything was quiet, all were asleep. Quaryin reached   
for his wife, but she was not there, he opened his mouth to call for her,   
to call for Telendor, but no sound would come out.

The shadows were no longer friendly and did not stay to the corners of   
the tent. They crept closer, their undefined blackened shapes closer and   
closer and closer. Whispering words of misery and pain. Of foul deeds and   
sinister ambitions.

He was alone, and could not call for help.

A woman stood in the tent, his wife? No she was tall and slender. He   
could not see her face for she was silhouetted by the moon, and she was   
hidden by the shadows.

"Rushela, help me!"  the words sprang uncalled from Quaryins mouth.
"I am the mother of death, I care for my children. I would warn you of   
dangers, of change and the future."

The shadows stalked closer still. Quaryin could feel their icy cold   
fingers brushing his skin.

A shadow grew bold and a dagger of pure black was held high above   
Quaryins chest. He tried to move but the icy fingers of the dead held him   
to his cushion.

Again Quaryin tried to call for Yul'feara, but his throat was dry. The   
fingers that held him were burning his skin, and time slowed to an   
eternity.

"Rushela!"
"Do you call to your tribe or to me?"
"Rushela!" was all Quaryin could call.
"How can I help you? I can only help those who are dead."
"Stop them!" pleaded Quaryin.
"Who?"
"The whispering dead!"

The shadows slid away into the dark corners of the tent.
"Be warned of the shadows who seek to take form."

"Quaryin, Quar wake up!" said a worried Yul'feara as she knelt over   
Quaryins body as it switched and turned in a troubled sleep. Quaryin woke   
with a start, his body damp with swet.

"I had a vision." was all that Quaryin could stammer.
"What did it tell you?" asked Telendor.
"It is hot and stuffy in here, I need fresh air." said Quaryin as he got   
to his feet and limped outside.

It was late afternoon and the day was still hot as the sun beat down on   
the tribes encampment.

Telendor and Yul'feara.
"Rushela spoke to me. She warned me of danger, and change, and of the   
shadows who want to take form."
"What did she mean?" asked Telendor, Quaryin looked away into the   
afternoons sky and across the rolling grassy plains.

"I have no idea." said Quaryin.


NRPG : Alton, I hope was that was OK. If you want I can explain the dream   
to you.

Oh and the post took place in mid - late afternoon on the present day.

James
xxx