Chicago [main thread until 11/12]

        Three times you accepted. Each time you felt your eyelids droop and your limbs get heavier. When you finish speaking, you drift into unconsciousness. It takes only moments for you to drift through somnolence and enter a dream-state.

        You find yourself in a clear night beneath a brilliant full moon. The air is still and a fresh, unbroken snow is underfoot. A bare woodland surrounds you, the outlines of the leafless trees hazy in the manner of a dream. You can see four human figures not far off, coming from the east; they can be distinguished as two men and two women, but their features are indistinct. The only thing you can see as clearly as yourself is Rita, who nevertheless looks a bit different here in the dreamscape.


At first, the silence is broken only by an ethereal tune - a product of your imagination? Or hers?



It matters little, for the music dims as Rita speaks:
        'I fear no Winter King,' said he, a Prince of rabbits, fine of fur,
            One of the figures, male, is speaking animatedly to the others. You get a sense of youth and energy. He leads the four up to the crest of a nearby hill.
        'We are four and he is one, as lucky a battle as ever there were.
            The figures gather in a circle, and around each of them begins to glow a nimbus of light, each different from the other. One of the female figures holds out a small, round object and energy begins to spark outwards from the four and into the object.
        But when its hunting song was heard, as great as the moon, as wide as wood,
            A deep, resonant sound, half hunting horn and half animal cry, breaks the silence as it echoes through the woods. Whatever makes that sound is a great ways off, but it must be massive indeed.
        The rabbits quite forgot themselves, and frozen there like saplings stood.
            A fifth figure fades into being as the very ground you stand on trembles with his footsteps. The figure is a giant of a man, half again as tall as any other, with a wild mane of hair and long beard. There is an impression of impossible age. The tendrils of energy from the four begin to waver and break, and from the group comes a sense of panic.
        The Prince, he said the greeting,
            The first male, the young one, holds his arms wide as his nimbus flares and suddenly there are many of him clambering on and around the giant, trying to hold him down. The giant is undeterred and tosses them off and away as a beast shakes water from its coat.
        The Tinker followed through,
            The first female, the one with with the small round object stays focused. Her nimbus flares and reaches out to the others. feel dismay and panic as the mystic flames fall short; the item in her hand separates into parts like an exploded-view diagram, and she begins to fade from view.
        The Farmer bought three loaves of bread,
            The second female, radiating great strength, charges the giant. Battle is joined - how she can withstand his massive, powerful blows you can't imagine - but he soon strikes with such force that she is cast down from the hill.
        But the Jester paid the due.
            The second male, the last one standing, roars with inarticulate fury as the first female vanishes. His nimbus flares and argent fire wreathes his hands, lashing out at the giant. Alas, the flames only anger the giant who seizes the man by the arm and smashes him violently into the ground once, twice, three times before lifting him overhead and hurling the now battered and bleeding man off the hill, directly into the trunk of a great willow tree.
        The Prince said 'please' and 'thank you'.
            The scene shifts to a different forest, this one in the bloom of spring. Though it is day, there is no sun in the sky. The young male from the hill is here, in a clearing amidst many tents and longhouses. He bows deeply before the proud people whose home this is, thanking them for their help.
        The Farmer, 'how do you do?'
            The scene shifts to a farmstead at dusk. The second female, tired but ultimately and miraculously unharmed, trudges towards the farmhouse. You get the sense that she is lost. She knocks on the door and, much to her relief, is welcomed in to rest by the family who lives here.
        The Tinker stole an apple,
            The scene shifts to a long hallway dug from earth and stone and lit by candlelight. You cannot see the hallway's ends. The first female stands in the center, surrounded by floating fragments, far more fragments than could be just of the object she once held. But she is clever; she pieces together a new object, a different object, and suddenly she is standing on a circular platform, a disc suspended between a sea of stars. 
        But the Jester paid the due.
            The scene shifts to a forest - the first forest, in fact. A summer storm has just ended; the earth is mud and rain still falls from the leaves to the saturated ground. The second man lies unmoving at the base of a great willow tree. He is battered and bloodied, his arm nearly shattered. After several long moments he heaves himself to his feet and begins a slow, painful walk into the east.

The dreamscape fades and you find yourself curled up like a cat on the rug in front of the fireplace. Rita is still looking off into what you can only assume is an easterly direction.

{ You now have a single dot in the Insomnium Discipline - located in Bloodlines the Hidden on Drive - as you have been shown the art by a skilled practitioner. I don't remember how much a rare Discipline costs off the top of my head so I'll get back to you on that. What you're experiencing now falls under the Onieromancy usage of the first power, Dreams of the Many; basically prophecy through dreams. Clues to interpret the dream visions you experience can be gained depending on how well you do on a Wits + Occult + Insomnium roll. Your Wits is 4, your Occult 2, and your new Insomnium is at 1, so your bonus to this roll is 7. }