We're Mortal... Everywhere. ((A Dream))

90 Gnome Mage
4915
I ended up outside a rustic - bordering on the falling down - fantasy tavern. Dwarves, Elves, Trolls, etc. I was greeted by two people I knew to be my "minions." And I was incredibly short. With only four fingers on each hand.

"Dear me, I'm a Gnome."

My minions looked at one another and then laughed nervously. "Of course, boss."

I wiped the perspiration from my forehead with the end of my long beard, and the three of us crowded inside. We sat in a booth across from a mage and his apprentice.

They wanted me to take on another apprentice. I really wasn't up for it, so pointed out how crowded our side of the table was already. (While simultaneously reminding me of the last time I had sat at this particular table with a young apprentice, a sweet memory made bitter by the eventual outcome of that experiment.) The mage laughed a deep mirthful chuckle, my minions pointed out that they could wait outside, and promptly left me alone on the bench. I then pointed out that I couldn't actually do any magic, and that brought a more serious expression to their faces. "How do you survive?" I asked them, because I knew their magic was gone, too. In fact, it all was, and had been for a couple of years now.

"One rule. Remember this: We're mortal ... everywhere." The tall dark mage rolled out a map and gestured to the known world. "But there's magic out there, I have proof. Let's make room for your new apprentice." And with that the extremely tall mage and his young apprentice stood up, and walked away. Behind them was a lanky, rugged looking, red-haired woman, yet possessed of a powerful animal charm that flashed behind almost luminous light green eyes.

As she moved in to stand just behind the bench, I could see that her lanky grace had disguised fuller and quite attractive curves. I was instantly, well, not in love, but something easily confused for it by most beings. I found it a most delicious complication.

"I'm going to get us something to drink, what would you like?" She stood, across the table from me, expecting an answer and no questions. It was as if the apprenticeship was a done deal, no discussion needed. I looked at her for a bit, and there behind the confidence, but well hidden, was fear. I could feel it, not fear of me, but of being turned away, of being unwanted.

"Orange juice, and not that small glass they'll want to claim is a 'large' but in a regular mug."

She stood, shifting between her feet. She held out her hand, there were a few coins in it, no where near enough for what I'd ordered. I dug into the pocket of my vest and sorted through a wad of notes from all different regions until I found a ten ounce note from the region we were in.

"It'll be enough if you can convince them I mean business." I pushed the crumpled note into her hand.

With that the woman smiled, "Oh, I think I can..." and she shifted, hunched over, face elongated, fur growing even as I watched. She crouched down across the bench. I stepped up on the table to look at her more closely. Her large green eyes looked up into my own. Her soul remained the same inside, the roughness I had detected earlier now made manifest. There was indeed still magic in the world, even if I couldn't touch it, anymore, perhaps she could.

"I see. You'll do, you'll do." And without even thinking about it possibly being impolite, I reached over and scratched her behind the ear.

She smiled, or perhaps bared her teeth at me, then turned and stood, heading over to a now nervous looking bartender.

((Seriously, my brain, what? Do any of you dream In Character? If so, please share.))
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90 Human Priest
Zen
9655
((Dream? In-character?))

((Why yes, yes I do…))

Digging around in my bags for appropriate enchanting materials, I realize that my new pair of winter boots need not only frost-resistance, but some SOCKS would be nice… While Blizz has generously provided me with underpants and bra, they have somehow neglected the possibility of SOCKS.

Oh sure, a minor detail to some perhaps, but for forays into the tropics or long winter adventures… clean, dry, cozy SOCKS could be the difference between healthy extremities and trench foot or frost bite. Not to mention extraneous chafing from feet-slot gear items.
As a tailor by profession, I gathered enough cloth and thread to fabricate a nice cozy pair of socks… but alas I have no patterns from which to craft such an item…

…and now I am floating through dream-world in search of sock crafting patterns… An endless nightmare of surreal searching for an unobtainable objective… oh the anxiety and anguish…

(( I awaken with a start… perplexed at my anxieties… and realize I have one sock on, and one sock off… apparently one sockless foot has shed its cozy covering during a tumultuous restlessness…

Flashbacks to my dream-state reveal an unconscious consciousness of that sole naked foot, and the keen awareness that I should go to the basement and dig out my winter boots in preparation for the upcoming snow season.

Alas the mysteries of the unconscious human mind… and the reality of impending winter… collide in a dreamscape of cartoon-world WoW fantasy scenario gone mad.))

/2 WTB Epic Sock Pattern - PST
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