Dream 02.01.04

I had a dream I was a character in an RPG, one of the party. The story started in a small village (as they all do) Where villains within where tossed over the gates in such a manner that they became were beasts once outside.

Josh Mitchell, someone I went to school with, was in this dream as an honest farmer blamed for the murder of a mill worker. He was thrown over the gates.

A group of fur traders from the north came into the village to sell furs. They were selling them cheap, so everyone went to look the best furs. While looking in the pile, I noticed a few of the furs had man-like faces, but distorted to look like an animal.

These men were hunting the were-beasts. Josh was a good man, and was wrongfully punished. One of the outsiders, being a witness to the actual murder, though not saying anything, saw me weeping and knew that what they had done was wrong. He grabbed a fur for himself, and announced to the villagers what they had done, and left to rescue the people they have framed. The best furs came from honest people; that’s why they framed people.

The villagers took care of the fur traders, and the man and I left to search for Josh. Josh had become a brown bear, though he still retained a human face and mind.

We fought battles, and I was always sorting through the weapons, comparing stats. He often mumbled, “I never should have brought you.” During battles, I wasn’t much use due to my small stature, but I had strategy up the wazoo, often biding my time for one giant blow to finish the fight.

We added to the party a swordswoman who was rather petty and vain, and an elf who only used magic.

Last I recall, the swordswoman wore a blue uniform (which I’ll draw later), the “Hero” wore a similar blue uniform (he took it off a swordsman that attacked us) the elf I didn’t get a good look at, and I wore a pale blue vest over a white shirt (I couldn’t tell if it was trousers or a dress or robes that I wore, but when I had looked down at myself, I was comparing the stats of the swordswoman’s uniform to my own.

I would always make sure the other party members had all the best weapons, and I would take the spares, and the hand-me-downs.

Josh had hidden himself quite well in the snow . . . as a snowman. He broke into our camp and flopped down on the ground, trying to pretend that everything was normal. I ripped the snow from him and proved him wrong.

The swordswoman was ready to slay him, but the hero stopped her.

Then I woke up.

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