Chimeric Fire

Archive for November, 2008

Of Gryphons, Trolls, and the Trials of Heroism

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I just had an amazingly vivid and detailed dream. In the dream I went to some sort of gryphon tour. Monks in an old abbey nestled in a cliff that overlooked a lake raised gryphons. They would hold gryphon rides around the cliffs and a little ways over the lake for a few gold pieces. All proceeds went to the care of these amazing creatures and any excess went to maintaining the abbey.

When saddling up, I was told that my gryphon liked to fly high and fast and didn’t particularly like staying in the line. I was told that it was alright because he was the best flyer of the bunch and no harm would befall me. He needed a strong rider, however, to keep him from wandering. We where also told that the lake was full of magical creatures and that it was also part of a vast strip of troll warring ground. If we where to see a troll, we should alert the entire group so that we could return to the safety of the abbey quickly.

I remember flying next to the cliff face with craggy rocks below and a large shallow lake to my right. As promised my mount preferred to soar higher than the rest, who maintained a set distance from the surface of the water for safety reasons. I decided to enjoy it. It really was a spectacular experience.

My gryphon soared higher, riding an updraft, but we fell back from the rest of the group. The riders that where behind me passed below and began to fill the gap in the line that my absence created. After climbing some distance into the air, my mount decided to dive. We didn’t go straight down, but at a steep angle back towards the group whose heads we would then fly over at more than twice their speed.

I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye towards the center of the lake. Amongst some trees that grew in a particularly shallow area of the lake was a white flash of light, as if someone had pointed a mirror towards me. I decided to investigate.

I turned the reins and my mount and I began to approach the trees. We had to fly very low in order to get under the sparse canopy of these trees. As we rounded the largest of these trees I saw something amazing, a unicorn! It looked me directly in the eyes but as we rounded the tree and a trunk blocked it from view, it seemed to vanish. All this time my attention was to right, not in front of me. As a turned forward again I saw a low hanging branch and immediately ducked.

I remember this so vividly, I could feel the feathers of the gryphon pressing against my face, the smell of dust, straw… and a bit of manure that such stable animals tend to smell of. My mount dove and turned slightly to dodge the branch. We had to go so low that the gryphons legs and portions of its right wing went under the water. I even remember feeling the water splash over my right shoulder and the cold created by the wind that was passing through my clothing as we flew higher once again, returning to the group.

A few of my fellow riders had apparently thought it seemed like a good idea to ride out above the lake as I had. Two women glided over the surface of the lake laughing as they coaxed their mounts into skimming the surface with their feet. I was flying over to join them as I passed what looked to be a small grey moss covered boulder to my left. However, I realized that it was no boulder the moment it began to move, raising from the water to reveal a massive 50ft tall troll. It saw the two women, bellowed a deep and angry cry and bounded straight for them with a large wooden club, which it had obviously dredged from the bottom of the lake, brandished wildly above its head.

I snapped the reigns and my mount dove quickly by the trolls head, whipping around its face. This diverted the troll’s attention to me and the women where free to fly back towards the abbey screaming to alert the others. They didn’t really need any warning, however, as the troll was more than big enough for everyone to see.

The massive beast took a wild swing at me, which only glanced my right shoulder. The force behind it was still amazingly powerful and a large splinter of the club had broken off and pierced the skin, embedding in my shoulder parallel to the surface. The troll thought he had done me in and was now off again after the women and the rest of the group. I folded my right arm into my lap and took on steering with my left hand as blood trickled down my elbow. I directed my mount to once again dive at the head of the troll.

This time we immediately rose high into the air after the dive. The troll crouched down into the water to about shoulder level and then jumped high into the air, flailing this massive tree trunk like it was a twig and we where mere flies. This time he missed and we continued the strategy. We would fly down by his head and immediately soar upwards. The troll couldn’t jump up fast or high enough to catch us and he was sufficiently distracted to allow the rest of the group to fly to safety.

We continued this process several times until the troll apparently came down upon some submerged trees. One pierced his foot and calf which immediately stained the water black with his blood as he fell into the lake. He did not resurface while I watched and I supposed that he swam away towards the shore. I didn’t much care, now that my adrenaline was waning, I could feel my arm throbbing with pain and my eyes becoming blurry from the loss of blood which had now stained the gryphons feathers crimson in a trail from its wing down its right flank.

As I approached the abbey, everyone was cheering until they saw my ashen face and the trail of blood on my mount. When we landed the gryphon lie down and thrust his wings out to allow me to dismount easily. I still found it difficult to remove myself from the saddle because I was quite week. From there I stumbled through the abbey, seeing all the horrified faces was worse than the injury itself.

I finally collapsed on a wooden bench when a fat friar approached me. He took my wet jacket and folded back my clothes to reveal the wound on my shoulder. The piece of wood from the trolls club had completely submerged into the skin, leaving a long bulge along my shoulder at least two inches wide and four inches long. A few splinters remained lodged in my clothing and I remember smelling them to see what they where.

I recognized the odor at once as Yliewh-Yliewh, or BaneShot (of course that’s something the dream just made up). This particular tree, when submerged in a swampy environment harbors moss and algae growth that somehow petrifies the tree, hardening it. It also imparts powerful antiseptic qualities into the wood. Actually, it just about killed everything, including people in large doses. In small doses, however, the toxins worked quite well at fighting infection. The trolls often used these petrified trees as weapons due to their amazing strength, not realizing that they could heal as well as harm. Generally speaking, if you could survive the toxic effects of the stuff, you could survive the injury.

I asked the friar to fetch me some clean linen, some gray moss, boiled water and two bottles of brandy. Luckily, they where about to make some soup and a large pot of boiling water was brought out to me quickly, as where the linen and brandy. They sent a young monk down to the cliffs to gather some moss which hung thick from the trees that grew along the cliff side paths.

I took several large gulps of the brandy. I could feel it stinging my throat as it warmed by cold body. I ripped my right sleeve completely off, then wrapped it around my shoulder above the wound, pulling it tight with my teeth. The friar looked at me in horror, I knew he thought I was as good as dead. I remember him saying “the swamp water has gotten into the wound, you’ve lost too much blood, and the fever is already setting in. Whatever you’re planning will just hasten your end.” I yelled at him to leave me and not disturb me unless it was to give me the moss.

I awkwardly poured the steaming hot water over my shoulder, which quickly washed away the blood and muck from the area. I then took several more gulps of the brandy before pouring it over my shoulder which burned much worse than the stinging in my throat.

I then loosened my belt and wrapped that around my shoulder as well, right over the torn sleeve. This would make a tourniquet that I would tighten with my teeth. The leather belt in my mouth also served a dual purpose, I would have something to clench my teeth on for the next part. I pulled a dagger from my boot, dunked it in the hot water then took several more gulps of brandy before pouring the spirit over it as well. I then took the belt in my mouth, pulled it tight and after a few sharp breaths I made a clean cut just above the entry wound and at least twice as big. I then took the blade and inserted it into this wound to push the splinter deeper, then prying it so that the tip would now come out of the incision I had made. With the butt of the dagger, I pushed the top of the splinter until I had enough to grab with my hand. I then slowly pulled it from my shoulder, my teeth straining under the force of my bite. I could feel every last bit of it, as I often do in my dreams. Even as I write this, my arm still aches.

Just then the young monk arrived with the moss, saw all the blood that was now quite profuse and immediately passed out. I gathered up the moss, placed it over my shoulder, and then wrapped the whole thing up tightly with the linen. I also used some of the linen as a sling to keep my arm in place. The Baneshot fragments that where surely still in my arm would hopefully help stave off any infection from inside and the moss should help prevent infection from the outside. I then took the splinter that I had just removed from my arm, rinsed it in the hot water and cut a small piece of it off to crush into powder against the stone floor. I mixed the powder with the remaining brandy, swirled it around and drank the rest. The remaining unopened bottle I would save for later. I then propped myself up against a wall, closed my eyes and immediately fell unconscious. When I opened my eyes, I was awake in my own bed, my arm aching from such a realistic and vivid dream.

A few things fascinate me about this dream.

  1. I was able to ride a gryphon, that was pretty cool.
  2. I saw a unicorn!
  3. I fought a troll.
  4. I was actually able to think clearly enough in the dream to at least seem to know what I was doing when tending to the wound.
  5. I was able to stay asleep through being splashed with water, attacked by a troll, and the pain of cutting a large chunk of wood out of my shoulder.
  6. I can’t believe that I was able to deal with all of that blood. I’m hemophobic (afraid of blood) in waking life and normally wake up from dreams of blood because it manages to access a deep and primal part of my brain that screams for action. Not this time.

All in all, a very cool dream, and an interesting story. It might make a good part of a larger novel… perhaps if the gryphon flight wasn’t for tourism… although I’m not sure what else it might be for.

Tuesday November 11th, 2008 in Blog, Dream Journal | No Comments »