The guildhall was quiet this time of day, many of the members were out working, adventuring, or just drinking. Normally Lyrick Dandelion would be out there, drinking, fighting, and cussing with the best of them. And if not the best, then certainly someone who wouldn’t deny him if he claimed they were the best.

Normally, that is. But not today. Today was going to be different.

His quarters at the guildhall were a wreck. Freshly opened wooden crates lined the walls, standing beside or on top of furniture. Packing straw overflowing from each of the small barrels or crates, spilling out onto the floor. The furniture itself had all been pushed to one side of the room, with everything easily moved piled on top of the bard’s cot.

And in the far side of the room, in the one area Lyrick had made sure to carefully sweep clean of straw, a pentagram wrapped in a heptagon, wrapped in a circle had been crudely painted onto the floor with white paint. The arcane symbol for “memory” carefully drawn in the center of it all; surrounding all of this was a series of fetishes, candles, and charms either propped against the walls or hanging from the ceilings.

A very tired Lyrick gazed happily at his creation.

This just might do it…I followed the instructions as best I could. And now we can get to the bottom of all of this. Find out what is happening, and why...

As the weeks had rolled by since first joining the Fellowship, it had been becoming increasingly clear both to Lyrick and to some of his fellow guild-members that he was suppressing memories. The dreams that haunted his sleeping hours never ended, and the mysterious clues inside them only managed to pique his curiosity even more. An enigmatic mention of murder, and the memory of a scream of someone he didn't even know before joining the Fellowship.

He had asked for three of those guild-members to come here today, under the pretenses that he had set up a ritual meditation to get to the bottom his woes and he needed someone to look after his comatose body in the process. That’s what Lyrick had said. That's what Lyrick had promised. That's what Lyrick had told them to expect.

Lyrick had lied.

If all this goes as planned then their help will be crucial in all of this…Sovereigns damn it, I don’t like relying on others like this. But if I ever want to snag another wink of sleep its got to be done…Should I tell them once they get here or just let them figure it out on their own?

Well, seeing as how they’ll be roaming around inside your unconscious its probably a good idea if you tell them don’t you think Lyrick? Geez, how in all the Planes did I get into this mess…

(( This is an Open RP thread designed to eventually lead to the conclusion of Lyrick’s current personal-history story arc. It will work primarily with you going on a grand adventure into Lyrick’s mind and past [Scaaaary! >:D ].

I have invited three people specifically to participate in this, but if any of you feel up to joining feel free to do so.

I have been working towards this point for some time now, and I do hope that you all enjoy how this turns out. Thank you all and let the RP begin!))

As Vali knocked on the door it swung open on its hinges of its own accord, only stopping as it bumped into one of the many wooden crates scattered on this side of the room. Just inside Lyrick could be seen lost in contemplation and staring at his grandiose “ritualistic” creation on the other side of his quarters.

After a few moments Lyrick seemed to finally notice the arrival of the others and turned towards the entrance, “Ah! You’re here, please come in, if you would be so kind as to just step around the mess. I have something important to discuss with all of you before we begin. Yes, very important, thank you for coming...Yes...”

For once remembering to say ‘please’ and ‘thank-you’ the bard was already out of character. His blood-shot eyes and haggard expression showed just how bad his sleep of late had been. Even his normally well trimmed goatee and moustache were frazzled, along with his long hair, now a frayed bird’s nest rather than the immaculate and self-conscious style the bard favored. And the way his sentance trailed off wasn't helping the impression.

Waiting until everyone had entered the (now rather cramped) room, Lyrick began to speak, his tone for once solemn. Like, he was informing a group of children that their pet dog had just died. “I have a bit of a confession to make, to all three of you. I have brought you here under false pretenses, and despite this I am still going to ask a rather large favor of all of you.”

Oh yeah, real smooth Lyrick, tell ‘em you lied and then tell ‘em you need a favor. You’re a piece of work. Gods and saints…I’ll be lucky if they don’t hang me on the spot once they hear what it is I am going to need from them.

Maybe I shouldn’t have told them I lied? No, it’s too late now, and besides if you didn’t tell them until the ritual was over than they would really hang you. And they’d laugh while your legs kicked in the air to boot.

Pausing to sort out his thoughts, the bard continued what may have been a well rehearsed speech. A speech that was a little too straightforward and honest for Lyrick’s style, but with the bags under his eyes perhaps the bard had finally gotten too tired to run his mouth off. Perhaps.

“As those of you who are more familiar with the various arcane mysticisms and rituals of Khorvaire and here on Xen’drik are probably already aware the diagram on the floor and these charms are a little much for any deep meditation I might enter.

It is arcane, it is a ritual. But it is not just for me.

I have seen mystics, priests, and even a Mockery damned snake-oil salesman but so far I have not been able to breach the walls that have been erected in my head. Nor can I end these nightmares. I got desperate, so I called in an old favor and managed to acquire all of this.” Gesturing to the fetishes and the various crates they had come in Lyrick makes it clear what exactly all of “this” was.

“This ritual is designed to allow you to enter my…Well, my memories of sorts. You would need to search through them and find out the truth of what has been happening to me. My understanding is that this may be dangerous to everyone involved, and more than an inconvenience.

I know this is a lot to ask but so far, despite all my efforts, I only have two clues about this whole situation. Aluatris knows them both, but I will now share them with you Chief, and you Valianna.

The first was when I had entered a slightly inebriated trance in the company of Al…I don’t remember much of it, but apparently I mentioned murder, murder of some anonymous close friend of mine, a murder that I apparently committed before joining the Fellowship.

Naturally I was curious because I could not recall any such death. So I began digging, trying to pry out more information from this piece of junk.” At this last Lyrick gestures at his own head, chuckling slightly at his own self-deprecation.

“That’s when the dreams started. As I mentioned when I asked you all to be here, these have caused me some grief. And other than feelings of terror, and pain the only really clear thing that stood out to me in these nightmares was a woman’s voice screaming in pain. Asking me to help her.

That’s where this gets tricky and why I have resorted to such measures. Because I have never in my memory heard this woman scream before, nor do I believe, have I known of her before entering the Fellowship.

The voice it--it sounded just like you Vali…”

Lyrick just nods his head along as everyone speaks, not speaking simply nodding. The nodding continuing a few moments after they had fallen silent, an awkward silence extending throughout the room.

“Death, yeah…” Lyrick began, at least stilling his odd movement. “One priest suggested that as well. Didn’t think much of it, since I uhh have died since joining the Fellowship and I get the feeling from what I have learned everything happened before then.

Still I was desperate so I took him up on his offer…” Shrugging at this casual mention of suicide the bard continues. “It didn’t have the desired effect as you can see.

I know you all are wondering why I bothered to ask any one of you. The truth is I have run out of options, I have tried every option I can think of and then some. I don’t like relying on other people to keep care of my problems, I like to be in control of what I am doing.

But I can’t seem to stop this. I am up against a wall and that is why I am asking.” Breathing in deeply the bard idly kicks a loose piece of straw across the room away from the diagram. His head hanging in contemplation as he buries his hands in the pockets of his jerkin.

“The ceremony is fairly simple, even if the result isn’t. My understanding is that it will create a world designed on my thoughts and memories, populated by me myself and I. The secret of what is happening to me, of what I am forgetting or what is causing these nightmares should be in there. Symbolically the block in my memory will probably be represented as something that is either restraining or hiding something. Like a vault, or a wall…

The danger comes from my unconscious and from whatever put this block in. From what I have learned you may have to deal with my natural mental defenses, along with any defenses that whatever messed with my head left behind.

Your bodies should be fine while your in my noggin’. They will just be here, sleeping, only your consciousness as defined by your physical form will leave…Whatever the hell that means. It just means you will be you, and not some flow of incorporeal thought. There are also a few precautions.” At this Lyrick finally lifts his head, still not daring to make eye-contact, and pulls his hands out of the pockets and holds three red beads palm-up before the others.

“You each get one. Break it, and you will snap out of the trance instantly and be back in your body. It’s linked to the diagram so it will travel with you when you cross over.” Silence falls across the group once more, after a few scant seconds Lyrick finally lifts his head daring to show his bloodshot eyes to them.

“I can’t give you a reason to say yes. I have spent every copper I owned investigating this and can’t repay any of you. And I know I haven’t exactly been a model member of the Fellowship but…But, I am running out of options and I don’t know what else to do or who else I could turn to.

Way I see it, win or lose this is it. I got just this one last hope. Will you help me?”