My new plan was simple, yet audacious. If I needed ’dreamers’ to form my new active defense, my first step was to find willing volunteers... I crafted a proposal that was less a quest and more of a job interview.
Glowing purple script began to etch itself onto the board’s surface.
FaeLina zipped over to read it. "’Research Opportunity for Mages & Psionically-Sensitive Individuals’..." she read, her voice filled with confusion. "’Topic: The Shared Dreamscape and its Defensive Applications...’"
She turned to me, completely baffled. "Mochi, what is this? It sounds like a boring university lecture! You’re going to scare away all the axe-wielding customers!"
I did not answer, as FaeLina continued to mutter about my strange business practices for the next several hours. During that time, a few Iron Gryphons adventurers came and went, using the Hibernation Hollows for a quick rest, but none seemed interested in my research proposal. I remained patient. It was a strange offer, and it would take the right person to notice it.
It was late in the afternoon when, finally, the entrance chimed with the arrival I had been hoping for.
Guildmaster Peppin and Gilda had returned, with Zazu the elf trailing behind them. The Guildmaster was holding a copy of my notice, magically transcribed onto a piece of parchment.
"Core," Peppin said, his tone skeptical as always. "What is the meaning of this posting? ’Defensive applications’? My guild has swords for that."
Zazu, however, stepped forward, his eyes bright with an interest I had never seen from him before. "Guildmaster, wait. This dungeon’s magic is not ordinary. The rest I experienced here... it was more than sleep. It was a healing of the mind itself. There is power in that."
"Zazu is correct" I projected, my voice calm and steady. The Blood Pit is a threat. They rely on fear and violence. A direct fight is exactly what they want. But we can face them on a battlefield they don’t even know exists: the battlefield of the mind. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ noᴠelfire.net
I explained my plan. I described how, when adventurers slept in my dungeon, I could perceive their dreams. With my new abilities, I could do more. I could gently link those dreams, creating a shared mental space—a Dreamscape.
"My proposal is this," I continued. "I will train a few willing members of your guild to become lucid dreamers—to be aware and in control while they are asleep. Inside this shared Dreamscape, they can practice, communicate, and create mental defenses, all while getting the most restful sleep of their lives."
Peppin stared at me, his expression caught between disbelief and intrigue. "You want my warriors to... fight nightmares? How does that help us against a goblin with a real axe?"
It is an early-warning system, I explained. A team of ’Dreamer Sentinels’ sleeping here would act as psychic guards. They would instantly sense the hostile thoughts of any intruder from the Blood Pit the moment they entered. They could send an alert to the waking members of your guild, or even project feelings of confusion and drowsiness back at the enemies to slow their advance.
It was the ultimate non-lethal deterrent.
The idea was clearly too strange for the practical Guildmaster to approve for his whole guild. But Zazu, the elf who had been healed, volunteered without hesitation.
"I will do it," he said firmly. "I want to understand this magic."
To everyone’s surprise, a second voice squeaked from the back. It was Pip, the nervous rogue.
"I’ll... I’ll try it too," he stammered. "If I could learn to control my dreams, maybe I wouldn’t have so many nightmares about pressure plates and mimics. It could... help me be braver."
Peppin looked at his two guild members, then sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "A trial run," he conceded. "We will test this bizarre theory of yours. Gilda will supervise this."
That evening, Zazu and Pip settled into two private alcoves in the Hibernation Hollows, their expressions a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
Once they were sound asleep, I activated the Dream Weaver’s Annex. I focused on the two shimmering doorways that represented their consciousness. Carefully, I took the edges of their dream-realms and began to weave them together.
The world inside their minds shifted. I created a new, shared space for them, a place of calm neutrality to serve as their classroom.
It was a vast, quiet beach at twilight. The sand was soft and warm, the waves lapped gently at the shore, and a sky full of impossible, beautiful constellations glittered above.
Two figures appeared on the sand: Zazu and Pip. They looked down at their hands, flexing their fingers. A look of wonder crossed their faces as they realized they were fully aware and in control.
My voice echoed through their shared dream, not as a booming command, but as a calm, guiding presence.
Welcome, gentlemen, to the classroom.