Why this is appearing now: As a follow-up to last week’s article on Dreams in RPGs, I have decided to crack open my archives and share the synopsis of an adventure from my Zenith-3 campaign that is all about Dreams. This adventure was supposed to be played on April 20, 2002, and we got started on that day – but a colossal bust-up between two of my players destroyed any hope of playing it and almost leading to the end of the campaign. So much player knowledge was revealed by one of those two to the rest that the adventure itself was ruined. After being persuaded by the other players that they wanted to continue with the campaign, I decided that the only way to salvage the situation was to write it up in narrative form. The consensus of my players after reading it was that it would have been a lot of fun to play, but that it definitely would not have been playable under the circumstances at the time and without those two players. You’ll note that I’m being deliberately vague about the confrontation and the circumstances. There is still quite a bit of ill-will surrounding the events and I don’t want to stir old soup up again. Suffice it to say that things happened the way they did, in part, because one of the players was on the verge of a nervous collapse, something not realized by anyone until months or more later. Most of the graphics that I used to illustrate the original plot are not available for me to reuse in a public forum, so you will have to live without them. Sorry. This will also have the feeling of seeing a mid-season episode of a TV series, having missed all the earlier parts. Not much to be done about that either. Finally, because of it’s sheer length (effectively 3 short stories plus an article), I wasn’t able to spend as much time as I might have liked tidying things up, especially shifts from present-tense to past-tense. Sorry :(

(“not played” 20/4/02)

NB: The following scenario has been extensively fictionalized. If events had been played in-game, a brief synopsis would be enough to remind everyone of what transpired, but you can’t use a synopsis to remind people of events that weren’t experienced. That makes the following much larger than it would have been. Any character misinterpretations are entirely the referee’s fault. Every personality trait conveyed is either a trait identified on the relevant character sheet(s), is a logical extrapolation of what’s on the character sheet (allowing for the circumstances), or is a horrible stuff-up. I apologize in advance for any of those last items.

An Angry Breakfast

7:15AM, one week after the events at the Ullar Youth Camp. Zenith-3 were due to have a team meeting at Eight. Spider is back in D-Prime picking up a few things he forgot (and visiting his wife); th eteam get the impression that he’s going to be away a lot of the time. Is the team ready for a part-time mentor?? Jimmy is still convalescing, though most members suspect that he’s trying for St Barbara’s sympathy and some TLC. His para-metabolism has still not stabilized.
    One by one, the members gathered for breakfast. Blackwing was first, stumping grumpily into the kitchen and making a beeline for the coffee as usual. He was followed by St Barbara, who took one look at her Gargoyllian ally and muttered under her breath in Danish. Glory and Dragon’s Claw followed at about the same time from different parts of the house, bickering heatedly over whose turn it was to do the dishes. Breakfast settled down to a sullen silence over angry glares. The team were cleaning the table – still without speaking to one another – when Karma practically bounced into the room, bubbling over with enthusiasm for the start of a new day. Unlike the rest of the team, she is a genuine morning person. In response to her unthinking greetings, St Barbara uttered a weary “Morning,” DC maintained a stoic silence, ignoring her completely, Glory groaned, Oracle winced, and Blackwing merely Snarled. “No need to take my head off,” replied Karma, who had been learning the local vernacular with reasonable felicity.
    “Sorry,” replied St Barbara, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m not in a very good mood. I almost wish some bad guy would raise his pointed head to give me something to pound on for a while.”
    Her reply was greeted with an unhappy buzz of sullen conversation, as it became clear that St Barbara was not the only member to have had their repose disturbed over the last few nights. At that point, Mist appeared in the kitchen with a soft boomph of expanding air. “Zenith-3, we have a problem,” she announced with a haggard and careworn expression. “Someone is trying to control our minds….”

The Stuff Of Nightmares

The team reconvened in the meeting room within their base. Mist explained that she had taken a break to try and resolve some personal issues. A few days ago, she began experiencing nightmares during meditation, despite her people’s natural resistance to mental interference. At first, these seemed to be an outgrowth of the problems that had led to her sudden sabbatical, but they had been growing both more extreme and more unlikely. “I may look human, but in many ways my species are very different,” she concluded. “We do not sleep as you do, but instead spend a period of time in meditation. We do not dream. We do not have nightmares. And, as in this case, we are aware of, and resistant to, external forces that seek to interfere with our thoughts.”
    Oracle then demanded details, admitting that he had also been having troubling dreams, and that (despite his near-total recall), he had been unable to remember specifics. In reply, Mist was forced to admit that she had also been unable to remember the exact content of the nightmares, something else that had troubled her. Oracle proceeded to give a quick explanation of how memory works, concluding by pointing out that since nothing was ever truly forgotten, it should be possible to raise the memories that were missing through hypnotism or some similar technique. Karma suggested that probing the team’s minds with her mental forensics abilities should be at least as effective as any hypnotism.
    Oracle replied that this was not enough. For his analytic capabilities to be able to extract the maximum information from the recalled memories, he would have to be able to compare minute specifics from vision to vision. Furthermore, since he did not hold a monopoly on expertise within the team, the others should also perceive the visions – someone else might see something he did not. “And besides,” added St Barbara, “If something is bothering my teammates I want to know about it – nothing can be fixed if we don’t know what the problems are.”
    With the decision made, it was time to consider who should go first, and in what order. St Barbara was inclined to be the first victim, but was persuaded by Oracle that Mist’s awareness of the visions being imposed from the outside might furnish valuable clues in subsequent visions. To avoid clouding his objectivity, he should be last. Outside of that, it probably didn’t make a lot of difference, he added. A quick game of paper-rock-scissors later, and the sequence of mind scans was established.

The Arcane Warrior’s vision revealed that she had been struggling to retain her identity and personal focus in this world of technology. Few of the team remembered that she came what was essentially a medieval culture, and certainly no allowances were made by the team for this fact. She been chosen to enter this world because of her adaptability, but nevertheless she came from a simpler existence and the impact of the technological revolution on the social values she revered had been overwhelming, and had reached the point where she had serious doubts about her ability to continue as a member of the team. She not only felt herself losing touch with her inner self, she felt that continuing along her present path would lead to a betrayal of everything her principles represented. The nightmare itself was a trifle more oblique.
    In it, Mist was on trial for her life, accused of being contaminated by the outside world. She was arguing her defense when the High Judge and Executioner, a big brute of a man, announced that he could prove the allegations, reached across and ripped off part of her skin to reveal the clockwork mechanism underneath. Mist’s Advocate and legal advisor jumped to her feet to protest, clover-green with fury, only for the Chairman to backhand the advocate violently, hurling her across the room. Mist was too busy bewailing her circumstances to do anything about it, barely noticing as the Judge began to grow bigger, heavier, and stronger. He laughed at her pitiful state, and taunted her. Gradually becoming aware of her surroundings, Mist realized that no-one else in the Court Chambers had moved an inch, standing as stationary as statues. The Judge, now almost 9 feet tall, seized the huge egg-shaped gem which was being used as a Bench, and gloated, “You want to earn your life?! Well, here it is, I control it, and you’ll never get to smash it now! The Power will be mine, Forever!”
    As with most nightmares, there were elements that did not make sense, but right up until the moment that Mist became aware of the Bench being a glowing, 1 meter tall green gem, there was at least some internal consistency. At that point, the nightmare became totally irrational….

The Martial Artist of Zenith-3 has, for a long time now, questioned his value to the team. Simply put, against the threats they have faced, he has often been as effective as a snowball in a smelter. He has often felt out of his depth, leading him – at least early in the team’s existence – to perform unnecessary heroics in an attempt to prove himself – both to himself and to his team-mates. The nightmare of Dragon’s Claw not only reflected these long-standing anxieties, but also the very real concern that he has seen before him the opportunity to fulfill the purpose of his existence – but that the opportunity is in the hands of others without his sense of morals, purpose, and determination.
    The dream began with DC in Washington, trying to convince a panel of bureaucrats to keep the Ullar Academy open. This was the fifteenth subcommittee in charge of something or other that he had given his spiel to, and from everything he had heard, this was the one with the real power to say yes or no.
    After an impassioned plea, by which the subcommittee seemed completely unmoved, DC turned to those who had attended the meeting with him – students from the Academy, present to argue it’s cause. The first student to address the committee was a charming teenager with pale skin. She began to speak, hesitantly and nervously, stuttering and stammering, and getting greener from fear with every mispronounced word. She was the color of clover when the Chairman, a big bruiser of a man, grew impatient and stood up, towering over the girl, and backhanded her, violently hurling her across the room. DC immediately went to his weapons even though he knew attacking the Chairman meant the death of his dreams, but also knowing that the ideals that those dreams embodied permitted nothing less.
    Combat ensued, as the Chairman grew bigger, heavier, and stronger. Despite the increase in size of his target, the Chairman easily deflected or dodged all but one blow in three, which bounced off ineffectually. The chairman laughed at DC’s “pitiful efforts”, belittling his ability to run a girl guide troop, never mind a militaristic academy. Several other members of the subcommittee were hurt through collateral damage from deflected Shuriken or Sword blades, but none reacted. In fact, they were as immobile as statues.
    Suddenly DC noticed that the head of one had been staved in, revealing him to be a hollow dummy. The Chairman took advantage of DC’s moment of distraction to seize the huge egg-shaped gem which the committee was using for a desk, and announced, gloatingly, “You want the funding for your summer camp?! Well, here it is, I control it, and You’ll never get to smash it now! The Power will be mine, Forever!”
    Once again, the dream began so realistically, so plausibly, that DC had not have been able to discern the difference between vision and reality. By the time things began to grow outrageous, he was so consumed with emotion and his focus on the battle, that he completely failed to notice. Even though awake, his expression following the replay spoke volumes about the levels of fear and doubt that the dream raised within him.

The contents of the Blonde-haired team leader’s nightmare were reasonably predictable to anyone who knew her, given recent developments. Her battles with self-confidence, and her protectiveness toward bystanders are both traits well-known to anyone within the team, and she has not been backward in expressing her concerns over the possible consequences of Jimmy’s Infatuation with her and the behavior that has resulted.
    Her vision began with St Barbara flying over Boston from nowhere in particular, and waving to her fans, on her way to be elected the person in charge of the Zenith-3 Christmas Club or something else she didn’t really want to be in charge of. As she passed a downtown intersection she spotted a Costumed Brick towering over a teenaged girl in the street. Without warning, the costumed criminal blasted his green-skinned victim with some sort of energy beam, hurling her through the window of a somewhat seedy looking bar. He then laughed, arrogantly, before grabbing a passing Buick containing a family of four and throwing it toward the pseudo-Irish tavern.
    Reacting quickly, St Barbara grabbed it with a pair of force-field pincers and began to set it down gently. While she was doing so, a child dressed in tights and a cape that at least 8 sizes too large for him leaped out of an alley and exclaimed with a dramatic flourish, “Never Fear, My Saint! I, Jimmy Fingers, will save you from —” by which time, the Bad Guy had grabbed Jimmy around the waist and was in the middle of bringing his back down HARD against the villain’s stiffened knee.
    St Barbara was caught in a quandary – save the family in the car, save Jimmy, or try to do both. Quickly she ran through her repertoire of powers and came to the conclusion that only quick action would give her any chance. Dropping the car, she materialized a force-field wedge between Jimmy and the villain’s leg, so that the would-be hero slid unharmed to the ground, then extended the wedge so that it became one leg of a pedestal, which the car safely landed on.
    The next few minutes were predictable, as Jimmy kept trying to help, and trying to show off, and making matters worse while putting the gathering crowd (why must there always be a gathering crowd!? St Barbara found herself wondering), at risk. St Barbara was kept so busy protecting everyone else that she had little opportunity to take the fight to the Villain, who shrugged off the few attacks she was able to make. Bad Guy (identifiable from the “BG” monogram on his tights) ignored her, concentrating his aggression on Jimmy and the bystanders, some of whom started taking bets on who would win, whether or not her costume would get ripped off in the course of the battle, and which of their number would be the first to die.
    Eventually, Bad Guy’s first victim awakened, and crawled through the debris of the tavern. When she was only a few meters away, she limply tossed a large gem at his feet, shouting “All Right! Here! Just stop hurting people!”
    Because of her injuries, the throw was off-target, with the gem landing at St Barbara’s feet, distracting her for a split-second – just long enough for Bad Guy to grab Jimmy and tear him in two before grabbing the gem with a force field. Jimmy groaned once and murmured weakly, “Kiss me and make it better, my Saint…” before stiffening abruptly. With the gem firmly in his grasp, the villain then crowed, “Mine at last!!! All Mine!!! You’ll never get to smash it now, St Bathetic! The Power is mine, Forever!”
    As the replayed dream ended, St Barbara commented, “I’m detecting a similarity of elements here. “There were a couple of differences, though. It never went completely crazy like the others – there were unexplained elements, sure, but nothing completely loopy. I wonder if that’s a difference in me or a reflection of the absurd behavior of the Jimmy-figure?”
    “I think the Jimmy/Bad Guy combination was loopy enough that when things went really strange it just seemed like more of the same,” replied Karma. “In any case, it’s time for our next victim…”

Blackwing’s nightmare was a little different from those the team had already experienced in that, at first, it did not appear to be a nightmare at all.
    It found him back in police uniform. As a favor to the Boston PD, he was checking out a cop who they suspected of being more than a little corrupt. The Gargoyle member of the team had trailed his suspect to a rat-infested warehouse. A quick change of shape later, and Blackwing was perched on the rafters, where he observed a meeting between the suspect cop and a young girl in a green dress and woolen pullover. “Got your insurance payment? Hate to see anything happen to that old man of yours,” the bent cop drawled.
    The girl meekly handed over a briefcase, and began edging away. The cop opened the case and riffled quickly through the cash. “Wait a minute, where’s the rest of it!?” he bellowed. The girl turned and started to run, but the Cop stretched his arm toward her about 6 meters and threw her against the third-floor ceiling with a heavy, wet sound.
    Blackwing has a deep hatred of police corruption, and he had leaped from his perch before he fully realized what he was doing. He crash-landed on his target from 4 stories up, letting gravity furnish his opening assault with a little added emphasis. A brawl ensued, with the cop proving almost as strong as Blackwing, and possessing a super-soft pliable surface that gave way before the hero’s every blow like taffy. The villain’s police uniform was quickly shredded, revealing an SID costume underneath.
    It was obvious that Blackwing was not holding back – if the rogue cop got killed, that was just too bad. The warehouse was soon a ruin, as were several surrounding warehouses (he did take the time to catch the girl on her way back down in the collapsing building).
    As the battle raged, Blackwing’s fellow team members emerged onto the battle scene, where they stood around carping and criticizing his every move, and making no effort whatsoever to help subdue the villain. Ultimately, the battle ended up somewhere near where it began. The bent cop started toward the girl, seemingly intent on using her as a hostage/shield, when the villain spotted something the girl must have dropped either on her way up or on her way back down. It was a large gem, and he grabbed it in his over-sized meat-hooks right away. “I knew that bitch was holding out on me! but now it’s mine at last!!! All Mine!!! You’ll never get to smash it now, you pathetic freak!! The Power is mine, Forever!”
    “Interesting,” said Glory. “That wasn’t a nightmare at first – more an action-adventure serial based on Blackie’s hatred of Corruption, and his natural concerns about SID low-lives scurrying into concealment within the ranks of the other branches of law-enforcement. But as soon as the fight actually started, it started to change – the helplessness, the cartoon-like distortions of anatomy, the rest of us doing nothing but criticize, they’re all variations on classic nightmare elements. Also, this dream didn’t get as out-and-out weird as the others we’ve seen – the Girl wasn’t green, she was just WEARING green. Even at the very end, it was fairly straightforward. That would cross out the ‘purloined letter’ theory of why St Barbara’s nightmare didn’t get so weird. It looks more like something to do with the personalities of the dreamers to me.”

Glory’s nightmare was one of the most terrifying to date, raising a number of issues that the super-heroine has clearly been avoiding, and revealing more to her teammates about her background than she has so far admitted. It actually opened as a very happy dream, with Glory being reunited with her family – “all is forgiven, everything is hunky dory”, yada-yada-yada. Oracle immediately recognized both – Glory’s father was the man in the Administration who had actually created the SID (as an elite military unit similar in concept to the Navy Seals), and her mother was a well-known charity socialite, both so upper-crust they positively flaked. It was also clear that in real life, Glory was more than a little estranged from them.
    The dream suddenly turned into a Gothic Tragedy. Dramatic Lighting, lots of shadows, mostly Black and White with splashes of lurid color. Glory’s mother and father suddenly collapsed. Glory tried to revive them using her powers, but they failed to show any improvement. The butler, suddenly looking gloomy and cadaverous, called an ambulance, but Glory realized she could get them to the hospital faster using the Champions Transporter. On arrival, there were dramatic scenes as Glory called on the full political and social clout of her family to get her parents immediate attention. Then the Doctor chased her out of the operating theater and began prepping for emergency exploratory surgery.
    After what seemed an eternity (but which was only a couple of seconds), a very young nurse in green hospital smock emerged and gave Glory the bad news that her parents have died – they suffered a complete collapse of multiple bodily systems, probably because their bodies were completely cancer-ridden. Funny thing, her father had been given a complete checkup at the hospital a month ago after a heart scare and there was no sign of cancer.
    Then the nurse suddenly collapsed, exactly as had Glory’s parents. A Doctor (the same big guy who has previously starred as a Judge, a Subcommittee Chairman, a Bent Cop, and in his unforgettable role as “Bad Guy”) leaped out from the operating theater, covered in blood, and began hacking at the nurse’s body with a rusty scalpel, screaming at Glory that it’s all her fault. Glory’s point of view abruptly shifted as she perceived herself to be a little Girl, no more than four or five years old, in summer dress and pigtails.
    From ward after ward, emergency alarms started going off. The other members of Team Zenith-3 (including the Bright Cutter!) were lined up on crash-carts, as are a number of SID troops and Native American warriors. Each has a toe-tag with the writing DOA clearly visible. Each is fully covered by a sheet, but Glory can see who they are, anyway. Interestingly, both St Barbara and Blackwing are somewhat larger than life.
    Glory was so consumed with grief that she barely noticed the disproportionate size, nor did she really notice that the Nurse’s blood was green. The Doctor was not even really trying to save the nurse, hacking off limbs and laughing maniacally. Dimly, Glory became aware that the crash-cart was a huge egg-shaped gem. The Doctor began throwing body parts off the cart at Glory, laughing insanely, then grabbed the gem (with the nurse’s torso still strapped to it – though Glory didn’t remember him taking the time to strap her down).
    Suddenly, it was Glory who was strapped to a crash-cart, with the Doctor gleefully flailing away with his rusty scalpel, which had grown to the size of a broadsword. Glory tried to break free, twisting and turning, but seemed completely paralyzed and helpless. Then the Doctor began crowing, “You never had a chance of smashing it in time!! Now the Power is mine, Forever!”
    When the dream ended, Glory was visibly disturbed (which is a first). She was almost sobbing, she was so overwhelmed by the nightmare. St Barbara immediately got up and put her arms around the team’s Field Commander. It was obvious that, however estranged they are, Glory still cares for her parents more deeply than she has been willing to admit to herself. There’s also a fear that she will somehow cause the deaths of those she loves; in waking life, the most likely way for that to happen would be through negligence – perhaps explaining why Glory has always seemed so driven and intense. Only one element was puzzling. DC was the first to actually ask the question: “Why would you think that your parent’s cancer would be your fault?”
    Getting a grip on herself, Glory replied, “I haven’t had these powers for very long… and I think that sometimes they leak a bit, or maybe it’s just the Life Symbiote’s influence… but I’ve seen the life energies in a crowd pick up a little after I’ve been around them a while… I first noticed it when we were hanging around Colonel O’Niell’s bunch, but thinking back I realized the same thing had been happening ever since I got the powers…
    “I just thought that maybe minor cuts would heal more quickly, and maybe there would be a slight rise in people’s fertility… I never consciously made the connection to an increase in the cancer rate… I just never thought….”
    St Barbara gently replied, “I think this is something we need to know more about. How big an area are you affecting? Is it more concentrated at close range? Should we be adding regular screenings for Cancer to our weekly routines? Things like that. When Warcry was with the team, he started running tests to determine just how our powers worked and what else we could do with them. He only had time to examine myself, Blackwing, and Oracle, and since he’s left we’ve sort of let that slide. Maybe it’s time to get that programme back underway…. and I’m making you top priority on the list.”
    Meanwhile, Karma had begun the process of connecting with the next – and last – member of the team. Without warning, the linkage was complete, and Glory’s reply was swept from her lips as she (and everyone else) was dragged into a vision of the world through Oracle’s eyes…

Oracle’s nightmare was hard to understand, mainly because he simply doesn’t see the world in the same way as everyone else. Nevertheless, once all the extraneous overlays were subtracted, it became obvious that he fears falling prey to the Dangerfield Syndrome – “I just don’t get no respect”.
    Oracle originally joined Zenith-3 firstly, as a refuge against Department Delphi, and secondly, because he was desperate for the camaraderie and respect that he thought he would earn. And for a while, it looked like it was going to be all his dreams come true. But then he got dumped from the Field Command position, and twice now he has failed to even come close to being elected Deputy Field Commander.
    As a result, he was particularly receptive to his nightmare, which began at some point shortly after the team had received an alert about a bus-load of school-kids sitting on top of a car bomb – and after they had told him to “stay at home and read his press clippings” because “he’d only be in the way”. Which is why, when the dream opened, Oracle was in a sleazy bar as far away from where anyone would expect to find him as possible, still simmering over this ill-treatment, eying the long row of bottles, and deciding whether or not to get hopelessly drunk for the first time in a long time… knowing that if he starts down that path, he won’t be able to turn back, not for a very long time. The question he was trying to answer at that exact moment was whether or not he cared any more. As his gaze glanced over each label, he involuntarily recalled the chemical composition, predominant flavor, and alcoholic content; the brewer’s location, biography, annual production, and turnover; he analyzed the recent performance of the company’s stocks and the likely change over the next 24 hours, and remembered the last time he drank something similar. He also recalled who he was with at the time, their biographies and current disposition, and every other occasion he was in their company.
    The barman was at the other end of the bar, talking to a very young waitress. One glance at them was enough to tell Oracle of the barman’s mob connections {instant biographic review of every other known or suspected member of the mob, authority hierarchy, most recent known activities, and prospective prison term} and that the waitress was trying to pay off someone else’s gambling debts {race results for the last 5 years, suspected knobblings, individuals probably responsible, socio-economic analysis of the waitress, projected familial relationships, probable biography, and a projection of the most probable line of conversation}.
    Of some interest was the manner of proffered payment, a large gemstone of a variety Oracle had never seen before {refractive index, internal energy source, probable spectrographic analysis, probable composition (diamond with radioactive dicarbolic hypochloride impurities), expected value on the current market, recent behavior of the gemstone market, biography of the deBeers family, etc}.
    Oracle obtained a bottle of schnapps (122 proof) and monitored the conversation between barman and waitress to compare with his projection. The pair bargained back and forth for a while before reaching agreement; the barman, for a commission, was going to sell the gem and use the balance of the proceeds to intercede on behalf of the girl’s father. The light through the stained glass window made the waitress look emerald green from head to toe as the bartender plucked the gem from her hand, before announcing loudly “Not Enough.”
    “What? But that’s all I have! You promised! You gave your Word!!” the waitress sniffled. Without blinking, the bartender backhanded her so hard that she flew backward through the stained glass window. Raising an eyebrow, Oracle noticed that it wasn’t just the light, she really was completely emerald green. Maybe it was skin paint, but somehow he didn’t think so. Intrigued now, Oracle activated his powers of precognition. To those seeing through his eyes for the first time, the world-view abruptly underwent a radical transformation.
    Oracle perceives the world not as simple objects and people but as relationships and probabilities and associations. A person is not just the simple shape depicted, it extends backwards through time, comprising everything that it has done in the past and everything that it might do in the future. Where those probabilities could be discerned with near-certainty, the images were sharp and clear, permitting a near-total understanding of the personality of the subject and how they are likely to react to various stimuli. Where they are less-certain, they fade into an incoherent fog of possibilities.
    The longer Oracle spends looking at someone, the more he learns about them, and the more clearly those probabilities resolve. The same is true of his perception of objects – a table is not just it’s current shape and position, it is a record of everything that has happened to it from the time of its manufacture to the present. Combining all of these potentials into a gestalt view, Oracle is able to perceive the inevitable consequences of the current state of existence. What’s even more useful, he can resolve the indeterminate possibilities into two or three locii, or probability paths – and where a nudge can shift events from one possible outcome to another.
    His abilities aren’t perfect, of course; quantum uncertainties have huge effects when they occur in something as complex as the human brain, and any particularly dynamic situation will change more rapidly than he can keep up with. Mobs are easy to deal with, as are small numbers; but groups, especially involving people with powers beyond the normal, are far harder to predict. Not only are their backgrounds likely to be more unusual, and less predictable, but their range of options in any given situation is greater.
    As he engaged his powers to get a feel for the current situation, he wished idly that his teammates would take these limitations into account instead of demanding the impossible every morning before breakfast and twice on Sundays. Returning his attention to the current situation, he quickly determined that the bartender had never intended to do anything to help the waitress’s father; he simply took what he could get as a profit from the situation. Having already decided upon a violent course of action, he would almost certainly continue along the same path.
    If the ‘waitress’ also had abilities of some sort to go with her unusual appearance, then anything could happen. If not, there would soon be an all-in brawl with several people hurt and at least a few killed – unless he stepped in. By becoming the focus of the bartender’s aggression instead of the Girl, the drunken mob would not be at the mercy of their more chivalrous instincts and would be in a position to clear out when things escalated. Of course, he would have to tread a fine line – if the bartender were clearly shown to be no match for him, given that he was the proprietor of the crowd’s favorite watering hole, and possibly associated with him though criminal enterprise, they would be compelled to join in. So long as it looked like the bartender could handle Oracle alone, the pair would be permitted to act without interference.
    What followed was as much a ballet as a battle, as Oracle deliberately missed just enough, and dodged just enough, to make it look like the bartender had a chance against him. Several times, things did not quite go according to plan, Oracle’s reflexes being impaired by the quarter-bottle of Vodka he had consumed while watching events develop. (At this point, those observing the replay could clearly see the illogic and inconsistencies that announced the sequence as a dream; Oracle alternately perceiving the bartender as a normal (if violent) human and as a paranormal opponent. To Oracle, these were simply accepted – he took the world around him as he perceived it and reacted according to his perceptions of the moment).
    Without warning, and taking Oracle completely by surprise, the Bartender clipped the hero, hard. The hero’s dream-self flew across the room, barely managing to avoid impaling himself of one of the pieces of furniture that had been smashed in the violence. This was troubling – Oracle’s powers had completely failed to warn him of the attack, and he suddenly experienced a twinge of doubt. He immediately stopped shadowboxing with his opponent and went all out, discovering that his abilities were completely ineffectual. Time after time, Oracle predicted with confidence that the barman would dodge this way, or strike out that way, only for the Barman to do something completely different.
    Eventually, the Bartender grabbed Oracle by the legs and use him as a living flail against the girl, and announced, “You want to get this back for Princess?! Well, I’ve got it now, It’s all mine, and you’ll never get to smash it now! The Power is mine, Forever!”

Detective Work

With the last nightmare retrieved and dissected, the team looked around at each other, and tried to come to terms with what they had learned. Until now, it had been possible to treat Dimension-Halo as a protracted holiday, an excursion without personal consequences, but in light of the deeply personal impact being felt by each team member, that fallacy was exploded. That would be cause enough for a moment of awkward reflection; but in addition, each had been given a glimpse into the naked souls of their teammates, and no-one was entirely comfortable with what had been revealed. It was a unique form of humiliation, having some deeply personal private laundry aired before everyone, and everyone was at least a little embarrassed by what they had perceived. Only Karma, whose perspective was not human, was relatively unaffected, and inadvertently stepped into the awkward pause that followed.
    “Gross common elements are the gem, the woman and the authority figure, who in each case implied that the objective was to deny the opportunity to destroy the gem, and that it was a source of personal power.”
    St Barbara forced herself to return her attention to what was going on around her, and again took charge. She pointed out that the more data Oracle had to work with, the more more effective his powers became. She then instructed the team to speak up in turn and report any impressions, observations, implications, indications, or suggestions they might have. She would start by pointing out that there had been no reports of Jimmy, Mrs Mayberry, or any of the UNTIL agents having such nightmares. In particular, Jimmy was under constant medical monitoring. On the other hand, Mist HAD experienced a nightmare even though she was physically not with the team – in another dimension, in fact – at the time. These exclusions were suggestive of purposeful targeting, but the reasons for that targeting were less clear.
    Blackwing followed up by noting that another common element – despite Mist’s awareness that the nightmares were unnatural and imposed from the outside, their beginnings were still drawn from the very real memories, perceptions, and concerns of the individual membership. So either some very potent psychic scanning was involved or these nightmares were somehow constructed from or enhanced by, real dreams and nightmares.
    Mist confirmed that her own impression of an external influence at work had only been reinforced by reliving her nightmare. What’s more, while the concerns expressed in her nightmare were genuinely deep personal concerns, the symbology used was not something that would have come naturally to her. Her nightmare was not something she would dream, assuming she normally did dream. It was more a case of how someone else would represent her fears, doubts, and concerns. To her, that suggested that the nightmares came in multiple parts – a genuine fundamental, a nightmare framework, and the mental interpretation of that framework by the individual, which “filled in the blank spaces”. In her case, the fundamentals produced the court-like setting and situation; the nightmare framework called on her to visibly manifest becoming something symbolic of what she feared, and so, even though the workings of such mechanisms are foreign to her, she was able (with prodding from the framework) to eventually dredge up something unlikely to meet its demands.
    Karma reported that she had not detected anything of the sort, but that the diversity of location of the affected members – some in dimension Halo, Mist in Avalon – suggested that the actual “framework” could be external, connected to the minds of the affected individuals only while generating the nightmares, like a mould or channel for dreams. The internal consistency of the dreams was too high for separate mechanisms – it was not like an infection, where everyone has their own customized version of it. However, she had not been able to detect any evidence of such an extra-dimensional mechanism at work, and she HAD looked. What she HAD noticed was that since the last time she had seen the team, their willpower – their drive and determination – had declined markedly.
    Glory reported that for for several days – ever since the nightmares started, in fact – she had been aware of a decline or diminishing of the life forces of the various team members, including herself, but she had not had enough experience with her powers yet to have been able to distinguish this from normal variation. It might mean nothing, a natural consequence of disturbed rest, or it might indicate that the team were being drained of something by the process. It was thin, but it was the first suggestion of any sort of motive for what was occurring. If the current trend continued however, eventually they would all die – even her.
    DC added that the nightmares could not have been better chosen to drive the team apart – they all focused on reinforcing doubts in each member’s mind about their value to the team, or on decisions to leave it. This might be because those were the things the members were worried about, or it might be more deliberate and selective. The nightmares were all intensely personal, things the members would have been uncomfortable discussing. That might also be just a coincidence, but all these coincidences in combination were starting to push the notion of random chance just a little too far. Perhaps they were chosen to make it less likely that there would be exactly this sort of coordinated investigation, and eventually, to cause the team to break up. That suggested that there was something the team could do about what was happening, if the team could only work out what that was.

The Power Of Oracle

Finally, all eyes turned expectantly to Oracle. “Do you have anything yet, Oracle, or do you need some more time to mull it all over?” asked St Barbara, more aware of the limits and parameters of her team-mate’s capabilities.
    “I’m still thinking it over, but to start with, here are a couple of correlations that have not yet been mentioned. The green female is always someone to be protected by the team; she never appears to be an active participant; and every time the ‘authority figure’ attacked a team member, the green gem glowed more brightly.
    “From these items, and those put forward by the rest of the team, a number of conclusions can be drawn with great reliability, and some with less reliability but total consistency with everything else known or deduced:
    “1. The team has been targeted by an unknown opponent whose methods and means are primarily emotional manipulation. 2. The reasons for the targeting are due to our potential ability to interfere with the plans of the attacker in question. The attacks can therefore be characterized as a preemptive strike. 3. The attacks are manufactured externally but are adaptive in nature, drawing on elements found within the targets mind. 4. The attacker made a very big mistake by targeting Mist; if not for that mistake, his preemptive strike would have had a high probability of success. 5. The nature of the mistake indicates that the attacker has only superficial or second-hand knowledge of the team’s membership. 6. The presence of the same helpless green female – who no-one in the team has mentioned knowing prior to these events – can’t be explained unless, like the authority figure, she is also a real being who is involved in some way. 7. The dream situations suggest that she is also a victim, who has somehow mastered at least some detailed knowledge of the attacker and his techniques, but the possibility that she is misleading us and is, actually, the attacker, is one that can’t be dismissed either.
    “Also, 8, I have observed that the speech pattern of the authority figure changed in mid-gloat at the end of each dream sequence. This is consistent with the theory that the female has inserted some additional ‘programming’ into the dream sequence. Again, this is suggestive of a victim seeking to both warn and enlist aid, but may be a deception.
    “Finally, a routine prediction, made earlier this morning, of what I will write on my whiteboard after this mission had revealed the instruction, ‘Seek Karma’s Dreams’. Which made absolutely no sense at the time, but now suggests a course of action.”
    “Umm, I don’t know how to break this to you Oracle, but have you forgotten that Karma doesn’t sleep and therefore doesn’t dream?” prompted St Barbara.
    “Mist can enter her meditative state at will. Karma can mind-link all of us to her, in effect sharing the same dream. Once there, we have only one option open to us; we know what will happen if we let events proceed as scripted. Our objective, therefore, must be to smash the gem at all costs.”
    “And what will that do?”
    “I’m not sure. It could simply destroy the mechanism used to attack us; it could put us under the control of whoever is attacking us; it could cause permanent mental damage to any or all of us; or it could have any number of other results. Without knowing a lot more about the technology used to induce these nightmares, it’s impossible to say.”
    “Wonderful.”

Although not entirely convinced that this was wise, no matter what Oracle’s whiteboard said, a lack of alternatives compelled St Barbara to endorse the plan. As Karma was establishing the mental links between the team members, Blackwing commented to Oracle, “You know, something just occurred to me. If a possible outcome is us falling under the control of whoever’s behind this, then he or she could make you write what you did on the whiteboard, couldn’t they? So how do you know we’re doing the right thing?”
    “I don’t. I decided that this is what we should do for the same reason the boss did – the alternative is to do nothing and wait for a miracle. But this group is all about DOING something about problems – and that means there was only one choice, right or wrong.”
    “Here’s a cheery little fact to reassure you that this is the right decision, then. On a hunch, I called Captain Thompson. Aggressive behavior is way up all over the city, and over half the population have dark rings under their eyes. He made some phone calls and confirmed that it was happening all over – he didn’t check everywhere, but everywhere he did check, they were seeing the same thing. Colonel O’Niell did some investigating through channels of his own at my request. This is a planet-wide phenomenon, at least. And we’re the only ones with the slightest lead on what to do about it – as usual. Nuclear Weapons under the control of multiple sleep-deprived individuals – what a cheery thought, not!”
    At first Mist’s nightmare seemed unchanged from last time. And then, one by one, the other members of the team replaced members of the audience which “gathered to bear witness to the proceedings”. As before, the judge assaulted the defense advocate, before turning on Mist. From the audience came a firm and unmistakable voice, instructing the judge in no uncertain terms to “Stop what you are doing – immediately – or else!”, as the Champions gathered around St Barbara. With a snarl, the Judge demanded that the crowd return to their seats, even as he was tossing immobile members of that crowd aside like ten-pins on his way to the team’s Chairman.
    What followed was a grand combat the likes of which Zenith-3 had not seen for quite a while. St Barbara attempted to surround the Judge with a shaped force field – a simple bubble – but he used magic to attack from within the bubble, while it prevented the team from getting to grips with him. Forced to lower the bubble – it was clearly counter-productive – the team began a furious assault. Ultimately, it was Dragon’s Claw who was able to maneuver himself – with Oracle’s assistance – into position to strike out at the green, glowing gem.
    When it became clear that this was their objective, the “Judge” began fighting with an intensity and ferocity even greater than that which was already keeping most of the team at bay. Only a more grimly determined attitude on the part of Blackwing permitted the duo to achieve the team’s overall objective. With one mighty thrust, DC drove his Soul Blade deep into the gem at the precise point indicated by Oracle. The huge jewel shattered most agreeably, and as shards flew off in all directions, the dream also shattered, scattering the team like 10-pins, and all went dark.

(not played 2nd Session 20/4/02)

Part I: Green Realm

Mist was the first to awaken. The first thing she noticed was the green sky, and the metallic green sand, and the way the rocks seemed to be composed of suspended strings, and the presence of a second, smaller, sun. The second thing she noticed was that the rest of the team were still unconscious (even Karma, who had reverted to her original form – and including another Mist!!)
    What was going on here? She got up to examine her Doppelganger more closely, only to collapse as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Putting out her hands to break the fall, she discovered that she was not wearing her regular clothes – in fact the gloves looked an awful lot like the modified SID uniform that Glory wore…
    Although the reflection was imperfect, Mist only had to stare at the image for a few seconds to realize where Glory was. Somehow, they had swapped bodies!
    A bubbling groan came from the direction of Blackwing, whose resilience ensured that he would recover quickly. “Ohhhh… what hit us? Whatever it was went through my forcefield like a hot knife through butter…”
    “Is that you, St Barbara?”
    “Glory? What happened?”
    “I’m not feeling quite myself… take a look at your reflection, but before you do – brace yourself for a shock…”

Orientation

One by one, the team members awoke, to find themselves in the wrong bodies (pay attention or this will get real confusing real fast): Mist’s mind occupied Glory, much to her distress. St Barbara was in Blackwing’s body, and furious. The Gargoylian Member was ensconced in the more nimble frame of Dragon’s Claw, who was himself in the body of Karma – a body that (without the constant attention of it’s usual mistress) had reverted to it’s natural form, a plasma cloud occupied by flashes of high-complexity patterns of force. Oracle’s body was occupied by Karma’s mind, while the precognitive hero now controlled the physical form of St Barbara. And lastly, Glory was now in Mist’s body.
    This development was unsettling for everyone, but some were more upset than others. Glory (in Mist) was one of the first to vent her feelings; Mist’s world is one where nothing is fixed, and things that Glory took for granted were simply ‘traditional’. It’s one thing knowing that you can set rocks on fire; it’s another being continually aware that a rock is only a rock until you want to change it into something else. Glory had always been rooted in practical and objective reality, and that foundation had been swept out from under her. To make matters worse, without her perpetual life sense, she felt half-blind; until it was gone, she had not realized how accustomed to it she had become.
    Nor was her exchangee all that thrilled by the transformation. Mist was accustomed to a universe which she could reshape as she deemed desirable or necessary. The fact that she preferred to know what to expect, and so made minimal changes to the nature around her, made no difference; with that ability now removed, she felt trapped, confined in a reality subject to someone else’s whim. For Mist, it had always been enough to know that she COULD do something; she had not needed to actually USE the ability. Now she could do nothing, and felt powerless and vulnerable.
    St Barbara was no less unhappy. While not ego driven, a part of her had always enjoyed being attractive, and her new body was monstrous in comparison. What was worse, the more she felt that way, the more the body changed shape to accommodate her thoughts; and the more it changed shape, the more monstrous she felt. She was demanding answers – immediately. The obvious place to look for those answers was Oracle – but Karma was completely overwhelmed by Oracle’s powers, and just stood there staring at the world around her, slack-jawed. After repeated attempts, the chairman lost her (his?) patience and grabbed Oracle, shaking him, hard – failing completely to make allowances for her new strength, inducing severe whiplash and causing substantial internal damage. Oracle immediately passed out from shock, as his brain was severely bruised. Fortunately, Mist was able to use Glory’s healing powers to repair the damage, though she looked strongly disturbed by the process.
    With everyone now paying attention, the team finally began to analyze their situation. Where were they? What had happened? How? Why? What impact would it have on their powers? What would be the effect on their personalities? At first, there was only a confused babble, but eventually St Barbara (Blackwing) asserted the authority of the Chairmanship and some firm answers – and practical advice – began to emerge. Karma (Oracle), with her experience as a former psionic, was able to make the greatest contribution.

I just don’t know what to do with myself

“It’s wrong to think of this as a body exchange,” s/he said. “St Barbara will not react as though she had been placed in Blackwing’s body; she will react as though her own body had been transformed into something that just happened to look the way her team=mate used to look. She will take time to get used to her new capabilities, and her first instincts will be to react as though she were still herself. After a while, expect to see powers used in ways they weren’t used before; St Barbara will have gotten used to being the team’s strongman but she will use those powers as though St Barbara had acquired the strength and resilience.
    “That said, the physique has on ongoing impact on the psyche. Sometime before the first series of reactions, a second series will begin. Elements of Glory’s personality have a basis in Biology, for example, and these will interact with Mist’s mind within the body. There will be some part of Mist’s personality which reacts to those and those elements will be strengthened or weakened, as a result. Parts of Mist’s personality that are not ordinarily dominant will come to the fore and parts that are usually up front will recede into the background.
    “Mist will still be Mist, but she might be in an unusual mood most of the time.”
    “Alight, ummm, Karma. Anyone else have something to contribute?”
    “I haven’t had Karma’s experience with Psionics, but I know enough Psychology and Sociology to to make a few forecasts,” ‘St Barbara’ announced.
    “Why is that no surprise,” announced ‘Blackwing’. “Go Ahead, Oracle, dazzle us.”

Theories

“For a start, I have a theory about why and how this has happened. Normally, it’s one dreamer to a dream. If we had each shattered our individual crystals – if we were able to – we would probably have arrived in our own bodies. Some of us, anyway – given how much trouble we had dealing with the ‘authority figure’, I don’t think much of our chances if we were taking him on one at a time. Anyway, because we were all in Mist’s head, whatever or whoever brought us here, wherever here is, couldn’t tell who went with which body.”
    “I also want to amplify a little on the consequences that Karma has talked about. What we call someone’s personality is a reaction to the amalgam of three elements: how they see themselves, how they perceive the world around them, and what they feel they can do about the other two. In our situation, two of those three have changed for all of us, and all three have changed for some. There WILL be consequences and there WILL be reactions. Changes of that magnitude can only result in an equally radical personality change in a relatively short space of time -and I think we’ve started to see those changes already. As Karma said, the traits that emerge will not be new, but they may well be hidden or suppressed in the ‘normal’ personality.
    “There will also be some residual impact from the physical body. The memory is partly chemical in nature, and that will stay with the body. Skills possessed by the ‘host’ will be ‘relearned’ more quickly than if we were starting from scratch. There will also be the impact of additional senses and altered frames of reference. I’ve never experienced LSD but from what all I’ve heard, it’s mild compared to what ‘Oracle’ over there is getting used to – trust me, I come from that body! Half the team will be tripping out on new experiences and senses and altered mental states for quite a while. Make allowances.”
    “If we had more time, the results could be quite revealing – more effective self-examination than thousands of hours on a psychiatrist’s couch – but we don’t have time for involuted voyages of self-discovery. Don’t try to understand why you feel the way you do, put it to one side and think about it later. I recommend that we keep an eye on each other’s behavior, and when that behavior changes, we make a point of keeping their attention on what’s going on around them. Otherwise, we might find someone’s woolgathering at a critical moment.
    “One other point. You can NEVER get the genie back into the bottle. When this is all over and we’re hopefully back where we belong, don’t expect to just snap back to the way we were. There WILL be lingering after-effects – even if those effects are nothing more than a heightened awareness of how others perceive us – and there WILL be consequences. We might never notice them, but they’ll be there.
    “An afterthought – as Karma pointed out, the people using our powers aren’t the usual suspects. Be aware of any new applications or techniques they come up with, and don’t be afraid to ask for help from the usual pilot, either. This is a chance to expand our repertoires, let’s not waste it.”
    “The possibilities are fascinating… I can see so many permutations, so many opportunities…. the data arranges so clearly, Its so beautiful….”
    “Good briefing, Oracle. Karma, get a grip on yourself and pay attention! Anyone else got something?”
    “One thing,” answered Glory (in Mist’s body). “We’re dancing around the issue of what to call people. In a combat situation, that can get us killed. We need to sort this out now, while we’ve got the chance. We’re used to visual identifications, so this is what I suggest. You,” she said while pointing at St Barbara (in Blackwing’s Body), “are not St. Barbara. You are now ‘Blackwing’, Chairman of Team Zenith-3. You used to fly and throw energy bolts and force-fields around, but you don’t do that any more. Whenever I use the name ‘Blackwing’, it’s You,” she said, pointing again, “who I’m talking about.
    “‘St Barbara’, over here,” she continued, “Used to be a guy who predicted the future, but these days SHE flies, fires energy bolts, and makes shaped force fields. And so on.”
    “Good point… ‘Mist’. As Field Commander, it’s your show.”
    “All right team, we don’t know what we’re up against, so don’t bunch too closely together and don’t get too strung out. I want subgroups of two or three. Everyone stay sharp, eyes peeled. Group one takes point, Group 2 watches our flanks, and Group 3 covers the rear. There’s some high ground over there and what looks like a cave; that’s our first objective. Get yourself organized and let’s move –”
    “Look! Over There! Where did SHE come from!?” exclaimed a sharp-eyed ‘Glory’.

Appearing as if from nowhere, clearly in mid-stride, was a familiar-looking girl with Green Skin….

TIME OUT FOR A QUICK SCORECARD:

• ‘Mist” used to host a Cosmic Symbiote but is now a spell-caster. Field Commander of the team.
• ‘Blackwing’ used to be an energy projector, now male and the team brick. Chairman of the team.
• ‘Karma’ used to be a male martial artist, now a genderless semi-female ball of psychic energy.
• ‘Oracle’ used to be a ball of psychic energy which manifested a female physical form, now a male precognitive.
• ‘St Barbara’ used to be a male precognitive, now an energy projector with a specialty in shaped force fields.
• ‘Glory’ used to be an elven mage, now host to the Cosmic Symbiote of Life.
• ‘Dragon’s Claw’ used to be a very strong gargoyle, now a very nimble martial artist.

All caught up? Now that everyone knows who’s who, let’s get back to the action!

Part II – The Emerald Girl

The emerald-skinned girl appeared no older than 19. She was clearly in some distress, but approached the team openly. Her movements were unusual; she seemed to walk in place for a while, then suddenly in mid-step appeared considerably closer. She was then able to walk a short distance before again “walking in place”. When she eventually reached the team, she made a gesture signifying her intention to parlay. When waved forward, she closed and announced softly,”Thank Annath that I got through to you before it was too late! I am the Sarinjan Jarrell, and my people are in desperate need of your help.”
    In an uncharacteristically blunt reply, ‘Blackwing’ (St Barbara) – who had changed form again with Jarrell’s arrival, sprouting ugly horns – replied acidly, “Are you responsible for what’s happened to us?”
    At first, Jarrell did not understand what was wrong with the team. When the current predicament is explained, she looks horrified, and apologize abjectly for her ghastly mistake. She will surmise that it must have been “the presence of the interloper in your dreams. Or perhaps the Kaliph discovered my desperate plan despite my best effort to stay awake.” Looking at her more closely, ‘Glory’ could see that she appeared not to have slept in over a week.
    With Jarrell obviously having brought the team here for some reason – as Oracle had predicted would be the case – much of the speculation and predictions made earlier seemed well-founded. Jarrell asked the team to accompany her back to her city of Axiom, where there would be refreshments and explanations. Agreeing, the team set out, only to discover that it was unexpectedly difficult to get anywhere for a great many steps. Jarrell’s earlier movements were not some strange religious observation, they were imposed by the physics of this strange place!
    Looking at them impatiently, Jarrell snapped, “Don’t you even know how to walk!? This is hopeless, we’re all doomed!” before breaking down into tears. ‘St Barbara’ immediately put her arms around the weeping girl and made “There, there” noises, explaining gently that this place works differently to what they were used to; of course the team would be clumsy until they got used to the new environment. “But we’re very adaptable. Just tell us what we need to know and we’ll soon get the hang of it.” Wiping away Jarrell’s tears, ‘she’ kissed the green-skinned girl softly, before jerking away as though she had been scalded.
    Getting a grip on herself, Jarrell apologized for missing the obvious, before explaining that they had to build up a certain potential before being able to progress forward; that the more motion in a given direction was attempted, the harder the resistance that had to be overcome became. And since they were a largish group, the resistance to be overcome would be ferocious. The solution was for half the group to take a backwards step “in place” while the others stepped forward; then the others would step back ‘in place’ while the rest joined them.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’ then announced, “I might have a better idea. Why don’t we try to Moonwalk? Since it’s walking backwards while moving forwards, it might cancel out this resistance.”
    ‘Blackwing’, who had attended numerous parties in her youth, knew how to moonwalk and was quickly able to test the idea, finding that it worked perfectly. With a little practice, ‘he’ could get up to almost 70% of his normal forward movement – which, Jarrell assured them, was extremely fast indeed. As ‘he’ returned to give the others a few quick lessons in modern dance moves, ‘Mist’ commented, “It’s just like a nightmare – you can run all you want, but you’ll never get anywhere – until you suddenly find yourself somewhere else completely.”
    Overhearing the remark, ‘Blackwing’ snarled, “It’s another Blodtryky inconvenience, that’s what it is.”
    Abruptly, ‘Karma’ gelled into the form most of the team were more accustomed to. “Finally!!” ‘she’ exclaimed softly; while in ‘her’ native form, she had been less constrained than the team members using more physical means of locomotion, ‘she’ was also much slower.

Reality Shift

With the secret to rapid group travel now revealed, it was not long before the team saw a strange city in the distance. Tall, cylindrical spires of silver arose, cresting impossibly thin stalks and blockish buildings designed with sweeping curves to the walls. As they traveled, Jarrell demonstrated more of the secrets of motion in this strange world; how the “Big Steps” were always a constant length, but the angle could be anything desired; how you could throw something in one direction and it would just hang there until you canceled the resistance by throwing something behind you; how you could impart a spin or a horizontal curve to the motion by throwing the second item at an angle; how two rocks thrown at the same time could never have exactly the same speed; and how, by throwing an object together with a handful of smaller gravel, she could ensure that the only speed possible to the largest stone was considerably faster than she could possibly have thrown it.
    Several times during the trip, ‘Mist’ began to withdraw, losing her focus on the events taking place around her. At one point she asked for a halt so that she could spend some time meditating. When the journey resumed, ‘Dragon’s Claw’, displaying uncharacteristic sensitivity, asked her what the problem was. ‘Mist’ explained that the world around her seemed to have no fixed foundations, and that she kept losing herself in it. The only point of constancy onto which she could lock her attention was her sense of self, of purpose. She now understood far more clearly why Mist had been so concerned with losing her personal focus that she had to leave the team so abruptly.
    Also continuing to experience problems was ‘Oracle’, who was perpetually getting distracted by what ‘he’ saw around him, and needed constant reminders to keep her mind on the job. ‘Blackwing’, whose mood had not been good to start with, grew increasingly irritable and snappish over the delays and problems of ‘his’ teammates; when Oracle stood transfixed, staring at a pebble ‘he’ had picked up for ten minutes solid, the team’s new strong’man’ almost came to blows with the “master strategist”. Only the foreknowledge that ‘Blackwing’ was going to attack prevented an even greater delay; but the force-field belt’s protection withstood the frustrated attack until ‘St Barbara’ was able to separate the pair.
    ‘Oracle’ did not even acknowledge the distraction, continuing to stare at the rather ordinary-looking stone. “Amazing….” ‘he’ said to himself, “EVERYTHING has a purpose…. even something as mundane as this….” Eventually, he very carefully put it back exactly as he had found it, only then noticing that ‘Blackwing’ was being physically restrained by ‘St Barbara’s shaped forcefield. “Incredible…. I thought this multiverse was built to resemble the old one – before Ragnerok – with only a few changes – but it wasn’t, everything that exists in it has a definite purpose… I can’t tell what it is, by I can FEEL that it exists…”
    Approaching the city took far less time than the team were expecting; they were still accustomed to estimating distance by eye assuming a constant rate of progress, and this was not the case in this strange realm. Within a few minutes of first sighting it, the team were being escorted down a leafy boulevard by Jarrell, at the end of which was an elaborately decorated building which practically screamed “temple”. Inside, they saw wall-to-wall bunks, stacked six high, and every one of them inhabited by someone tossing and turning. The occupants had sunken, black-ringed eye-sockets, were pale and haggard, and look like they had not slept properly in even longer than Jarrell. They also shared her bright green skin.
    One of them is an older man dressed in regal robes. Jarrell knelt on one knee before that cot with a bowed head before rising and turning to speak.

Nightmare of the Emerald City

“It started gradually. At first no-one thought anything about it. The latticelight had been unusually strong, and everyone attributed their inability to sleep well to the conditions. But after a few days it was discovered that everyone was having nightmares, always centering around some deeply personal and sometimes shameful fear or doubt, sometimes even one that the dreamer had not realized he possessed. And a few days after that, people stopped waking up.
    “I don’t know why, but I was somehow stronger than the rest. I was able to keep going long after everyone else had collapsed. It was as though I was being sustained, somehow. I went without sleep for as long as I could, searching every scroll I could find for a cure, working until I dropped. When there were no more scrolls, I built these beds for those who still survived. I hoped that the spirit of Mother Anneth, the sustainer, might protect the dreamers, even if only for a little while.
    “And then, in my dreams, I began to see more than just my nightmares. I discovered that the mind of my beloved father, and the minds of all who will one day be my loyal subjects, had been invaded; captured stealthily by a being who could draw on the power of their nightmare images and make them flesh, who gained strength and power beyond belief from the Dreamers. He is named the Kaliph Morpheus.
    “For months, I spied out his defenses, and learned his plans, and watched as he used creatures and powers and nightmares leached from my people to overrun another atom. And then, with the power of two, a third fell quickly, and then a fourth. Fully 63 quantum spaces have now fallen before his might.
    “And then, one dreary and disturbing night, as the light of the crystal latticework dimmed, he gained an insight most terrifying – he learned that what we knew as reality was only one of a vast order of realms, each inhabited by creatures – creatures of minds unsuspecting, each one infinitely vaster in their own way than the entire sum extant of his vast domains. And he determined to conquer those realms too. I know, for I was listening to every word he spoke to himself in his Tower of Polarity.
    “I had long since taken the opportunities presented to me to steal what knowledge I could from the Kaliph, and though I understood but a second-shell of his secrets, I determined to use what little I knew in one final, last, vain hope of victory. I created the gem, a lesser simulacrum of the Living Crystal that the Kaliph uses to focus the power he has stolen, and insinuated both myself and his image into the nightmares he was sending forth, in hopes that minds of power would recognize the threat and act to save us all. And so you are here, as I prayed but could not bring myself to hope. You are our final hope. Please, I beg you, help us, for all our sakes.”

Perception Shifts

It didn’t take the team long to decide to answer the call for help. Some eyebrows were raised when ‘Dragon’s Claw” opined that the team were “honor-bound” to help – it sounded so much like something the “real” DC might have said, and not at all like something that Blackwing, the current occupant of the body, would have suggested. But, given what was going on in Earth-Halo, they had little choice.
    Discussion about other facets of the situation was a little more extended.
    It was noticed that some members were already displaying the profound personality shifts that Oracle had warned of.
    ‘Glory’ continued to lose track of her fundamentals, becoming cold, emotionless, and dispassionate; dissecting alternative courses of action in purely pragmatic terms, heedless of their morality; her suggestion that the team pre-plan a sequence of members to be sacrificed in order to achieve the goal brought all discussion to a halt for a few minutes while the team members struggled with the idea itself, and then that it was Mist suggesting it.
    ‘Karma’ continued to have problems with control, of both ‘herself’ and ‘her’ powers; on a number of occasions ‘she’ replied to comments that had not actually been made aloud, and whenever ‘her’ concentration waned, ‘she’ reverted to the natural plasma form fundamental to the physical body ‘she’ inhabited. ‘She’ also seemed to be absorbing exotic parts of Karma’s personality, suggesting that “while [she] was all in favor of the principle of aboriginal rights, the only reason the team should risk itself was from loyalty to ‘their own kind’ ” – a question-begging term, given the variety of membership in the team. With a start, ‘she’ seemed to realize what she was saying and assumed an expression of self-disgust, telling the others to forget ‘she’ said anything at all.
    ‘Blackwing’, meanwhile, seemed to be fueled on rage and anger, and at the same time possessed of a strong desire to avoid attention; ‘he’ carefully chose a seating position that ensured that ‘Karma’ was between the team and ‘himself’ and seemed reluctant to say anything at all.

Adjustments

In the end, six other matters of importance were discussed:
    The observed behavior of this realm, and the language used by Jarrell in describing it, were all consistent with this world being “inside” an atom. Each of the “quantum spaces” captured by the Kaliph was a neutron or a proton. The “lattice light” that Jarrell had mentioned was the light emitted by the oscillation of electrons across a covalent bond and back – the brightness indicating the strength of the chemical bond. Obviously, this universe was neither a parallel or divergent world with respect to Earth; it lay upon a 5th-dimensional axis. For convenience’s sake, the team decided to use the rather melodramatic and somewhat inaccurate term, “The 5th Dimension” to describe the location.
    Team members should be cautious when using their borrowed “powers” until they were used to the strange physics of the place. Those who threw punches should use their off-arm as a counter-thrust. Those who threw energy or magic around would be wary of backfires, and so on. As they worked out through trial and error what worked and what didn’t, they could push themselves further.
    The overall objective was not to eliminate or overthrow the Kaliph, but simply to end his threat to other realms of existence. That meant that the Kaliph himself was not the primary objective; the real target was the “Living Gem” that made him so dangerous. Once it was out of the picture, Morpheus himself was an irrelevance.
    Jarrell confirmed that by one metaphysical interpretation, all this could be considered a Dream of hers; by another, equally accurate interpretation, it could be considered an extended dream of all those subjugated by Morpheus; a third, equally real interpretation would have it all as a Dream of Morpheus; and by a fourth, it could be considered nothing more than an extension of Mist’s Dream, which the rest had entered through Karma’s powers. All these perspectives were correct, and the device that permitted all this to take place, and maintained it, was the Gem Of Morpheus. When it was smashed, the dreams would all end – Morpheus’ dreams of power, the dreams which kept Morpheus’ victims comatose, and the dreams of the team members. Everyone would wake up again, and it would all be over .That meant that the team would automatically, from its point of view, be returned to their normal reality, in their normal bodies.
    ‘Oracle” then declared that ‘he’ had integrated enough data to be able to offer a definitive solution to the question of why they were in the wrong bodies at all. “Because Mist was, in one sense, the host, and all this was taking place in a domain subject to Mist’s personality and perceptions of the universe, the events would of necessity reflect any emotional problems she had been having prior to the dream; and Mist had been having problems with a perceived loss of contact with her identity. A fifth, and also equally valid metaphysical, interpretation of the events, was that Mist (despite the appearance of reasonable sanity on the surface) had suffered a minor mental breakdown, and that the fundamental “malleability” of the universe (in her worldview) had caused Reality to change in order to conform with her semi-psychotic perspective.
    “In combination with the information ‘He’ had received from Mist’s mind in the past, this also explains why the bodies had been switched as they had; the new forms were metaphysical interpretations of Mist’s perceptions of, and attitude towards, her fellow team members. Mist was jealous of Glory; so Mist’s “fantasy self” (having retreated or lost contact with her own form) was that of Glory. St Barbara had always been a tower of emotional strength and support to Mist, and hence St Barbara had become the team’s strongest member. She had perceived Oracle as flighty and vulnerable, and hence he was placed in a form which reflected those attributes. As Karma, ‘Oracle’ had spoken to Mist several times about the integrated philosophy of her people, which combined both what humans called “Technology” and what they called “Magic”, and so she had been placed in the form of the most intellectual member. Dragon’s Claw had been perceived as a very subtle person with hidden depths; and so he was placed in a form symbolic of hidden depths and subtlety. Mist thought of Blackwing as a Big Brother, so he was placed in the only remaining masculine form, and – again, because she felt disconnected from what her usual role represented, and because she perceived Glory as an enemy, or at least, as a rival, Glory was placed in Mist’s usual body. You see, it all makes sense – at least as much as any internal logic does in a dream.”
    ‘Glory’ made no response, and seemed not to have realized ‘Oracle’ was talking about her. It was as though one of the cast had interrupted the play to explain what was going on to the audience, while the rest held position and waited for the action to resume.

Planning

Jarrell was then brought into the discussion, which now turned to the logistics of attacking the Kaliph. Jarrell’s only access to the Kaliph to date was somehow using her unexplained “Dreamwalker” abilities. That involved subjecting herself to the Kaliph’s “rules”, in effect becoming an element of one of the Kaliph’s dreams – dreams in which he was even more invincible than in actuality.
    What’s more, that tactic constantly risked the Kaliph becoming aware of the nature and purpose of their presence at any time, eliminating any advantage of surprise the team might have. That left the team to make it’s way into the Kaliph’s realm by some other means. The team routinely used four different modes of transport – but the Bright Cutter wasn’t here, and neither was the Champions Transporter. That left ‘Mist’s teleport or ‘Karma’s tunnels through space-time. Since neither of these were under the control of anyone experienced in using them, the choice became one of Risk Management.
    ‘Mist’ could attempt to teleport the team, but if the teleport went wrong – and there was a good chance of it – the consequences would be catastrophic. ‘Karma’, on the other hand, could get accurate coordinates directly from Jarrell’s mind, and even if the tunnel was imperfect, with such a basis, the team should arrive SOMEWHERE in Morpheus’ realm, from which point they could approach his “Tower Of Polarity” by more conventional means (“Blodtryky Hell, More moonwalking,” came the comment from somewhere within the shadows.)

Preparations and Problems

With the decisions made, the team quickly made preparations for the mission. They didn’t know how long they would perceive their journey to take, so they gathered food and water and tents. ‘Glory’, after expressing uncertainty over her control of her powers, requested a Sword from Jarrell’s armory so that she would at least have a weapon with which she had some expertise. Then, without warning, ‘Karma’ launched an inadvertent Psychic attack on the rest of the group, stunning several of the team.
    ‘Blackwing’ staggered back, putting out an arm to brace herself, grabbing hold of a large statue, which came crashing to the ground, crushing several unoccupied houses. ‘Blackwing’ was experiencing the same period of clumsiness that had afflicted Knight immediately after his initial transformation into Blackwing. With ‘his’ temper already on a short fuse, ‘Blackwing’ gave a howl of frustration, picking up the statue and throwing it as hard and far as he could – it froze in place some twenty meters away, hanging accusingly.
    ‘Oracle’, showing unusual sensitivity, quietly spoke to ‘Blackwing’ about the “feedback loop” causing her appearance to continue to mutate and it’s ongoing impact on her psychology. ‘Blackwing’ promptly attempted to tear ‘Oracle’ apart (again), but ‘he’ had again had the foresight to activate his forcefield belt.
    Once again, everyone piled on to restrain the team Chairman; when they had her firmly pinned, ‘Karma’ tactfully suggested a solution, immediately calming ‘Blackwing’s’ ire. The hero immediately requested a deep-set hood and cape from Jarrell, as had been suggested; if no-one knew exactly what she looked like, ‘he’ would be less anxious and self-conscious about his ‘hideous appearance’, or so the theory went.
    Finally, with preparations complete, the mission got underway. Again, the membership was arranged in three layers; ‘Mist’, as field commander, took the lead with Jarrell. ‘Glory’ and ‘Dragon’s Claw’ were in the second rank, ‘Oracle’ and ‘Karma’ the third pair, with ‘Blackwing’ and ‘St Barbara’ bringing up the rear.

Part III: The Realm Of Nightmares

All too soon, the preparations were judged complete, and ‘Karma’ began attempting to to forge a ‘tunnel’ from Jarrell’s realm to the Kaliph’s microspace, advised and guided by ‘Oracle’, the body’s previous inhabitant. The first few attempts were dismal failures, but eventually the way was opened. Whether as a consequence of the local environment or ‘Karma’s inexperience with her powers, the passage was not the soft-glowing white doorway with which the team were familiar; a misshapen hexagon pulsed redly in the air before the team, throbbing with a disturbing irregularity, suggesting that the passage was none too stable. ‘Mist’ was about to suggest that ‘Karma’ release it and try again, when she was overridden; ‘Karma’ announcing, “That’s it, that’s as good as I can do it. We had better go quickly, I don’t know how long I can hold it; the tunnel is resisting me…”
    Quickly, “Mist” marshaled her forces and dispatched them through the portal.
    If the tunnel looked unstable from the outside, it was far more so from within. As they traveled, for the first time they were aware of a perceptible travel time – accompanied by violent lurches from side to side, radical changes in force and direction of gravity, and palpably contradictory information from their eyes and inner ears as to their direction of travel.
    Arrival was not the gentle process that the team were used to, either; the team members were practically spat out the far end like seeds from a fruit that had been squeezed too hard. ‘Oracle’ successfully kept his feet, ‘Dragon’s Claw’ hit the deck, rolled, and leaped to his feet in a single smooth action. ‘Karma’, the last one through, had once again reverted to ‘her’ plasma form, leaving up and down mere labels of convenience; the others did not escape so lightly. Some ended up in trees, others struck trunks at some pace, and “Blackwing’ just rammed the earth at high speed. Despite the violence of the arrival,. none of the team were hurt significantly, and in was only moments before they were examining their new environment.

Sharing a Bad Dream

Their first impression of the Nightmare Realm was of a Gothic horror on LSD. Swamps that were solid enough to walk on, stones that were not; trees growing upside down, a perversely twisted reflection in the sky of near normality that dripped like wet paint toward the ground. While this reflection appeared to be but meters overhead, a quick stone’s throw by ‘Blackwing’ immediately established that the separation was incalculably higher.
    Second impressions revealed scattered ruins amongst the debris and multitudes of human bones both old and new carpeting the swamp-like ground. Streamers of noxious and acrid odor drifted through the air in streams of purple-brown haze, pausing occasionally for a bat-winged cherub. Dirty gray sunlight penetrated the smoke, soot, and haze to fall like thick strands of spiderweb amongst the plants and bones. As ‘Mist” soon discovered, these were as sticky as spiderwebs, too.
    It did not take long to realize that the reflection was staggered with the reality; when someone took a step, there would be a few moments delay before the image echoed the action. On other occasions, the reflection would act in advance of the person, moving or behaving in some bizarre manner, which the hapless victim was compelled to emulate. Bones chased dogs, chewing vigorously on their tails, while snakes shed their skeletons and flowers whispered vile imprecisions to one another; and in every shadow were several sets of tiny eyes that stared at the party unblinkingly, only to vanish when one of the team looked squarely at them. In the far distance, stabbing downward from the reflection, was a squat and ugly tower surrounded by a castle born of a collaboration between Esher and Giger.
    “The Kaliph’s Tower Of Polarity,” announced Jarrell, stating the obvious. “Remember, in this place, forms and nightmares are made manifest and obey the Kaliph’s whims. While he should not yet know we are here, he will in due course discover our presence, and will seek to use those powers against us. Even then, he will likely assume that we are rogue dreamers that have somehow escaped his influence, and will not bring his full powers to bear. While he will eventually discover his error, we will have a period of grace in which to travel to the Tower itself.”
    “All right, you know the drill and you know the objective; let’s move out,” instructed ‘Dragon’s Claw’. Immediately they did so, one other element of the Nightmare through which the team traveled revealed itself – portions of the sky and ground intermingled and entwined with each other, changing the landscape with every step. What had been “solid marsh” a moment earlier was subject to a howling gale, or a blizzard, or became a rocky quagmire when the next person attempted to follow. As a result, progress seemed to take forever.

Dream Ambush

The team had cautiously traveled five or six miles though this surrealistic wasteland when they were attacked without warning, giant bats in psychedelic colors swooping from places of concealment overhead.
    ‘Mist’, accustomed to being forewarned by her Life Sense, was taken by surprise and received a nasty gash along her back. ‘Dragon’s Claw’, used to near-invulnerability, charged headlong into battle, recalling the excesses of Dragon’s Claw in the team’s early days. ‘St Barbara’ was a little more aware of ‘her’ changed circumstances, and rather clumsily took to the air.
    Lack of self-awareness was certainly not a shortcoming being experienced by ‘Blackwing’ and ‘he’ began pinpoint bombardment of the creatures with thrown tree-trunks; as St Barbara, ‘he’ had of course been accustomed to a Range-Combat tactical role. ‘Oracle’ had activated ‘his’ forcefield belt just before the attack began, and soon had a number of attackers trying to claw through the protective bubble of energy, making them easy targets; otherwise ‘he’ completely ignored their presence.
    Two of the fliers attacked the foolhardily-exposed ‘Dragon’s Claw’ bringing him back to reality in a hurry, as they almost clawed his arm to shreds; he turned tail and fled into the bushes. Karma attempted to stun selected fliers, but only managed to KO ‘Mist’; but then, ‘St Barbara’, flying at much greater speed and with far greater control, began firing at the ‘sitting ducks’ perched on ‘Oracle’s Forcefield, and any shift in the tide of battle that resulted from these injuries was immediately overcome.
    The Danish warrior-woman fired blast after blast with enthusiasm and abandon, reveling in ‘her’ abilities, and soon the creatures were fleeing. ‘Glory’ collapsed almost immediately the team counter-attack began, weeping and screaming for them to “stop”; while Blackwing heeded the instruction, not knowing what the problem was, but ‘St Barbara’ incinerated bat after bat without remorse. When the sky was clear of enemies, she soared into the sky, performing barrel rolls and high-G loops for the sheer thrill of it.

Sense Of Life

‘Blackwing’ attempted to calm the distraught ‘Glory’ as ‘Mist” came to, asking what had hit her; ‘Glory’ demanded to know, “How could you stand it? I could FEEL the life-force being torn from them when they dies… it was horrible, so cold and empty afterwards…. I could feel their existences just fade away….”
    ‘Mist”, recovering, replied, “That’s why I don’t kill unless it’s necessary; but if it saves lives, I’d do what I had to do and cope with the consequences afterwards. I’m a trained soldier, and sometimes soldiers have to kill; that’s all there is to it.”
    ‘Blackwing’ said nothing, but the look ‘he’ directed at ‘Mist’ was one of horror and the certainty that there was a lot more to be told on the subject. How DID Glory live with herself? Even the drains must have felt like she was slowly murdering the target – she just stopped short of finishing the job. For the first time, she wondered if Glory was just a well-adjusted sociopath. It took considerable persuasion before Glory would even heal the team’s injuries, stating that she could feel her own life-force ebb briefly when she did so.
    In total contrast to these events, ‘St Barbara’ was clearly coming to terms with ‘her’ situation quickly – in fact, she was almost hyper, she was so exhilarated by the sense of freedom she had discovered in the air. When the team regrouped, ‘she’ remained overhead; until the conclusion of the mission and ‘her’ return to her rightful body, she would not willingly touch the ground again. She was no longer the helpless weakling….

The Hollow Man

The trek quickly resumed; the team had no reason to believe that they had actually been detected, and the chances of that situation persisting would be greatly enhanced by leaving the scene of the battle as quickly as they could. They had not made much progress before a huge form, 20′ high, bubbled out from the rocks and gelled into a giant suit of medieval armor, which drew it’s sword, saluted, and then charged at the team.
    Once again, the team swung into action, led by the hyperactive ‘St Barbara’, the charging ‘Dragon’s Claw’, and the missile attacks of ‘Blackwing’. ‘Oracle’ carelessly kicked over a rotten log before approaching a brightly colored flower and again activating his protective force field to protect him while he examined it. ‘Glory’ crumbled to her knees, moaning “No, not again,” while ‘Karma’ attempted, successfully, to adopt ‘her’ crystalline form. ‘Mist’ watched helplessly, her sense of ‘reality’ eroded by the combination of Mist’s mystic awareness and by the chaotic environment to such an extent that she had no idea what was real and what was simply potential.
    ‘St Barbara’s explosive energy discharges were the first to reach the target, blowing substantial holes in it, and revealing it to be completely hollow. The shockwave deflected the lumber that had been hurled by ‘Blackwing’, negating the usefulness of his attack.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’, adapting to his changed circumstances (despite appearances) grabbed the arm of the giant and swung underneath it’s grasp and up, perching securely on it’s shoulders, where he started slicing chunks out of the surface, while ‘Karma’ slowly strode forward. ‘St Barbara’, her first line of attack shown to be ineffective, switched tack, forming a wall around the Hollow Man, who had continued to advance toward ‘Glory’, ignoring the damage inflicted on it.. ‘Blackwing’, having also realized that ‘he’ and ‘St Barbara’ were getting in each other’s way, leaped forwards, only to hang suspended in midair by the strange symmetrical physics of the micro-reality.
    ‘Karma’, understanding the problem, also leaped forward and (exercising the acrobatic skills for which Dragon’s Claw was formerly renowned), used his super-strong teammate as a springboard, rebounding back the way he had come; With an loud ‘Boom’, ‘Blackwing’s interrupted leap resumed at a vastly accelerated pace, crashing through the suit of armor like tinfoil, tearing it in four on the way through. ‘Dragon’s Claw’ had to leap for safety, only to see the ground for which he had aimed transform into quicksand-like rock. Only a rotten log was left floating on top of the quagmire (the same one that ‘Oracle’ had casually repositioned).
    With a feat of Acrobatics the equal of DC’s best, he was able to alter his trajectory to leapfrog the quagmire, using the floating log as a stepping stone, while pieces of the giant flew in all directions.
    One arm landed near ‘Glory’ and began dragging itself toward her, grasping her leg; there was an audible ‘snap” as the bone was crushed. Screaming in pain and fury, ‘Glory’ flayed about with the Sword she had borrowed from Jarrell, slicing fingers of the hollow glove. ‘St Barbara’, meanwhile, had spotted the torso and left arm, and had attacked using the shaped force-field; projecting it as a stick-figure inside the suit, she then expanded it until the nightmare creature was shattered. ‘Blackwing’ had kept hold of the head-piece, and one swift blow at full strength was enough to shatter it like an eggshell; whirling in place like a dervish, the pieces were easily scattered. Finally, the Hollow Man was no more.

Angst & Recriminations

Afterwards, recriminations were heated.
    
‘Blackwing’ came under fire for thoughtlessness and excessive aggression, as did ‘Dragon’s Claw’, who replied that he was doing the best he could with a limited arsenal. But these were just the warm-up, as ‘Mist’ accused ‘Glory’ of being cowardly and uncommitted, and ‘Glory’ counter-accused ‘Mist’ of being narrow-minded and prejudiced against reality, and of engaging in wishful thinking. ‘Blackwing’, still smarting from her own rebuke, gave each of them a serving, “At least I’m TRYING, not WHINING.”
    To separate the pair, who were close to blows, ‘he’ declared ‘Dragon’s Claw’ to be “temporary acting reserve field commander”, used ‘his’ authority as Chairman to declare both Mist and Glory as ‘temporarily unfit for command duties’, and turned the running of the show over to the new appointee.
    ‘Karma’ ended the debate by angrily denouncing them all, punctuating each comment with a harsh mental finger-prod. “I thought Humans had climbed out of the trees and grown up, but you’re behaving like a pack of children! ‘Blackwing’, you’re always going to be a second or two slower to attack than ‘St Barbara’; take that into account next time and get over this bad mood you’re in – we’re all in uncomfortable situations. ‘St Barbara’, this is a team, start acting like a member. ‘Mist’, if you don’t like the reality around you, you’ve got the power to stabilize it. ‘Glory’, start pulling your weight and stop being such a prima-donna. And DC, you don’t have to keep proving yourself to us, all right? There are times when your skills aren’t the most useful, but that’s true of all of us. For heaven’s sake don’t get in the way just to get your turn in the limelight.”
    Jarrell, who had watched these angry exchanges in silence, then stepped forward, and discretely brought the team’s focus back onto the objective, and they moved out in sullen silence.

Wasteland Of Eyes

Ahead, the forest/swamp gave way to a desolate wasteland. Cover ranged from minimal to nonexistent. Great cracks littered the ground. The terrain ahead seemed to climb rapidly toward a distant mountain range, the tops of which curved above the horizon. “Once we start across, discovery by Morpheus is inevitable,” advised Jarrell. “How long that will take is a question that is open to debate.The good news is that the adjacent energy densities are spread further apart as we approach the surface, so we should travel far more quickly from this point. I caution you again not to show weakness to the Kaliph, he will exploit it.”
    “But I AM weak!”, exclaimed ‘Dragon’s Claw’.
    Jarrell was soon proved correct; it took only an hour to travel a distance apparently greater than that which had taken hours to traverse this far. The group were almost three-quarters of the way to the Mountain when they became aware of bestial eyes watching them from the clouds which erupted from the sky overhead like inverted mushrooms. The eyes would focus on one team member, then blink closed and vanish back into the haze, only to appear from a different cloud and focus on a different member. “The Kaliph has seen us, but has not yet realized that we are a group,” advised Jarrell. “Beware; he is sure to invoke some menace to attack whoever he perceives as the weakest. He probably won’t stay to watch, relying on his nightmare creations to deal with us.”
    “But can’t he see that we’re traveling as a group?”
    “Distances are unreliable this close to the edge; two things that appear to be side-by-side may in fact be far apart. If I had not been able to spy out the terrain, we would almost certainly become truly separated from each other.”
    As predicted,. an attack swiftly followed, a gelatinous blob bubbling out from the cracks underfoot and swallowing ‘Oracle’ whole, lifting ‘him’ to hang helplessly in midair. Fortunately, ‘he’ had activated his protective forcefield well in advance; the attack would soon prove to be nothing more than an inconvenience, ‘he’ was sure. Unexpectedly, the inner edge of the blob began to dissolve into a fine mist and to seep into the bubble of force surrounding the precognitive, where it congealed and began dripping down the inner surface.
    The general merriment at ‘Oracle’s discomfiture quickly died, and the team members began taking action. ‘Blackwing’ tried to tear it off, but it flowed through ‘his’ fingers like sand; ‘he’ could find nothing to grip. ‘St Barbara’ tried to blast it off, with similar lack of results. ‘Karma’ tried to seize mental control of it, without success, managing only to induce a bout of chicken-clucking in St Barbara, continued evidence of a lack of mastery over ‘her’ powers. ‘Glory’, confronted with a foe without life-force, was fully willing to act, for a change; but there was nothing she could do to affect it. Similarly, ‘Dragon’s Claw’ had only one possible mode of attack with any chance of success, the illusion power of the Honor Blade – but it twisted and burned his hands when he tried to use it, and in any case, ‘Karma’. reported that the creature was mindless, existing only to consume whatever it enveloped.
    That left only ‘Mist’ as having the potential to do something about the problem; but ‘Mist’ was struggling to comprehend what options she had, let alone selecting one that might prove effective. So many of Mist’s spells relied on her ignorance of modern science, cause-and-effect, and so on. ‘Mist’ did not have that advantage; she would be forced to ignore the spells Mist had learned and resort to casting Ad-hoc spells.
    Immediately she recast her thinking in terms of achieving effects that were at least scientifically plausible, within her understanding of the subject, ‘Mist’ felt far more comfortable about her situation, and commenced crafting a suitable spell. In this case, what she wanted was a suction; coupled with a tubular-shaped force field from ‘St Barbara’, the result should alter the creature’s assets into vulnerabilities. A simple low-pressure zone immediately above the tube’s opening would do the trick.
    The tactic worked perfectly; and while ‘Mist’ would not be as efficient or razor-sharp at casting spells, she at last felt that she could at least make a contribution to the group effort. And, with practice, her skills should pick up quickly.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’, taking his new role as the (acting temporary) field commander seriously, then gave Oracle a dressing-down. “Overconfident” and “Secretive” were two of the milder terms; the point was that Oracle had foreseen the threat in time to alter the settings on his force belt to a spherical arrangement, but had not seen fit to warn the team. Nor had he made any contribution at all to his own rescue, simply waiting for the team to look after him. These had been amongst Karma’s most annoying personality traits, and they had only been intensified by the circumstances, from ‘annoying’ to ‘infuriating’. Oracle had always been a reticent, even taciturn, member, avoiding any hint of the spotlight, but not even he would have withheld something as pertinent as an attack on the team and the blowing of their veil of secrecy.
    The superficially contrite ‘Oracle’ made an insincere promise to “do better” as the team continued its march.

Climb Every Mountain

In no time, they found themselves high up within the mountains, which were far smaller than they had appeared. The major cause of this illusion was that the surface itself was curving upwards, so that what appeared to near-vertical cliff-faces were in fact near-horizontal surfaces. It took only a few minutes hard climbing for the team to pick their way to the feet of the great volcanoes that marked the boundary between upper and lower domains. From here, they could see practically the whole micro-world – and they were equally visible.
    This was also the point at which the Kaliph Morpheus would realize that he faced a single group, not coincidental individuals. No warning from ‘Oracle’ was necessary, the entire team expected to be attacked when they reached this point. Sure enough, from one of the clefts in the volcanic walls, a number of amorphous red vapors erupted, each racing for a different target. Being prepared, the team swung into action without the need for direction.
    ‘St Barbara’, as usual, had the clearest vantage point, and hence the most warning as to the exact nature of the threat . She didn’t know what would happen to someone engulfed by one of the vapors, and wasn’t inclined to find out. Erecting a force barrier between the vapors was the obvious move; because of the wide area that had to be surrounded, the resulting defense was very weak, but it would buy everyone else time. ‘Mist’ converted a nearby boulder into two great stone hemispheres, which were seized by ‘Karma’ (silicate form) and ‘Blackwing’.
    It was not long before the vapors ate through the wall erected by ‘St Barbara’, and she was soon leading several of the vapors on a merry chase, as were ‘Dragon’s Claw’ and ‘Glory’. When all was reported as ready the trio led their pursuers through a pass, on the far side of which the strongmen waited. When the vapors were in exactly the right position, the pair slammed their hemispheres together, and ‘St Barbara’ used her energy blast to seal the hemispheres. ‘Mist’ then completed the job by shrinking the sphere back to it’s original size and beyond, compressing the vapors to the point where they liquefied.

Settling In

Afterwards, ‘Mist’, still exhilarated by the success of her early spell-castings, declared “I could get used to this.”
    ‘St Barbara’, meanwhile, was amusing herself by flirting with ‘Glory’ – and suddenly found herself sneaking sideways glances at ‘Dragon’s Claw’ and ‘Oracle’, much to ‘her’ disgust. Dragon’s Claw’s mind was straight heterosexual in orientation, but St Barbara’s body was naturally Bisexual; when his personal inclinations brought one of his female companions to his attention, the body reacted – but it was just as willing to react to a male presence. Further confusing his sexual attitudes, he couldn’t escape the feeling that biologically he SHOULD be more attracted to men than women – all the hormones were strictly female, after all. When was ‘she’ being straight and when was ‘she’ being kinky? He couldn’t tell, anymore. To get ‘herself’ under control, ‘she’ again took refuge in the intoxicating freedom of flight, pushing ‘her’ body through a series of difficult aerobatic maneuvers.
    “Blackwing’ was rather less than amused. Now ‘one of the boys’, she had become acutely aware of how her teammates reacted to the physical presence of her former body. While not the smartest member of the team, she was acutely aware that the way her body moved naturally drove all awareness of her non-physical attributes out of the minds of the males around her. She saw how they reacted to those teasing glances, and discovered that she was feeling jealous of her own body at the same time that she was attracted to it. And, at the same time, she was angry that they could forget so easily that she had a mind, as well. While she never sought to be the center of attention, some small part of her had always taken secret pleasure in being attractive, and in the power it gave her over others (even if she never used that power). Every time she saw her former body, it only reinforced her heightened sensitivity to the contrast in how they looked at her now – as something monstrous, unattractive, and inhuman. And every time, she felt her shape shift a little under the concealing cloak that Jarrell had supplied her.

Cavalcade Of Horrors

Having recognized that an alliance of forces opposed him, the Kaliph Morpheus was not about to give up without something far more substantial in the way of a fight. They might have imprisoned his ghost-like vapors, but he had many other nightmares on which to draw.
    The team were not given the opportunity to do much more than take a deep breath, when they were again under attack. And with each attack, the environment shifted to advantage the ever more outrageous forces summoned to attack the party. Giant spiders were followed by Fire-breathing Rabbits, which were followed by flying three-headed sharks, then rotting corpses.
    This proved to be just the tonic that ‘Blackwing’ needed to distract herself from the gender/sexual/emotional confusion that she had been experiencing, and she threw ‘himself’ into the battles with abandon. After a while, she discovered that there is a particular satisfaction to thumping the hell out of something when you’re upset, and began to luxuriate in the sensation of raw power delivered, not with an impersonal gesture, but with a solid ‘Thump’.
    ‘Mist’, too, was beginning to revel in the opportunities afforded her by her ability to transform the world around her. She cast ad-hoc spell after spell, each seemingly bigger and more extreme than the last. She no longer paid even conceptual lip service to internal scientific logic, indulging in any flight of fancy that occurred to her. Rains of treacle, giant shrimp, balls of fire, turning trees into mini-volcanoes, even teleporting half of something into a solid object. A conga-line of purple anteaters dealt with the swarm of Giant Ants who came looking for dinner, and an earthquake shattered the tidal wave of rock sweeping toward the team.
    The third member of the team who was feeling almost drunk with power was ‘St. Barbara’, who fired energy blast after energy blast, at times using a shaped forcefield to “bank” her shots. When she tired, she switched to firing low-intensity ‘tactical’ blasts designed to toss targets into range of another team member.
    The rest weren’t as effective. ‘Oracle’ kept getting lost in the wonder of a universe only he could see, and was capable of only protecting himself. ‘Glory’ could go one better than that, and if forced to, would defend herself by means of the sword, parrying attack after attack until one of the heavy-hitters was free to protect her. ‘Karma’ was willing and able to attack, but control still eluded ‘her’.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’ had no such problem, but his ability to be effective was severely limited. He spent his time spotting tactical opportunities and dodging (friendly fire half the time). Jarrell, faithful to her role as guide, ensured that the Kaliph was unable to use deceptions or distractions to mislead the party as the struggled ever-closer to their goal.

To Beard A Kaliph

Eventually, the team fought their way to the foot of the Tower Of Polarity. As had been feared, if there had ever been an entrance into the Tower, the ability to create literally anything someone dreamed in a Nightmare had enabled the Kaliph to erase it. The tower walls rippled and convulsed like a living thing, and its walls were as smooth as glass. At the same time it was as close to impenetrably solid as the Kaliph could make it; only from above could an entrance possibly be forced – perhaps.
    ‘St Barbara’ and ‘Mist’ each tried to reach the top by means of flight, but were attacked by the tower itself and brushed back to ground level almost contemptuously; they were too much the center of attention. That left only one member skillful enough to climb the walls, while the rest ran interference for him – ‘Dragon’s Claw’s turn in the spotlight had at last arrived as foretold.
    Inch by Inch, he scaled the tower using as much stealth as he could command. Reaching the top, he found the window that the Kaliph used to watch over his domain and leapt through. Spotting the Kaliph, ‘DC’ took a leaf out of the Kin battle manual – he screamed and leaped, wielding his Katana like a madman and throwing shuriken with his left.
    As he had suspected, he was no match for the Kaliph in single combat, but the fury of his attack distracted his enemy, who fell back in momentary disarray. Pressing his advantage to it’s limit, the neo-Japanese warrior never let up his barrage of attacks, dueling not to score or even to hit the target, but simply to keep the Kaliph busy reacting to him. Without the direct supervision of the Kaliph, the rest of the team were able to quickly ascend the tower on one of ‘St Barbara’s shaped force fields, created in the form of an ascending platform.
    When he judged the time to be right, ‘Dragon’s Claw’ (who had still not landed a solid blow on his target) leaped over the Kaliph’s head in a particularly showy and ostentatious maneuver. As the Kaliph turned to follow, ‘Blackwing’ hurled himself through the window, crashing into the Kaliph from behind, followed by the rest of the team.
    Despite getting a free, surprise attack, at full power, the team were quickly forced onto the defensive, as ‘Karma’s attack was mis-targeted inwards. ‘She’ collapsed, unable to take any further part in proceedings. Then Morpheus unleashed the power that had gained him his authority in the first place – a devastating emotional control ability. Fear, doubt, and Lethargy swept over the team, insecurity and confusion and panic struck them in waves.
    So intent was the Kaliph on this attack that he forgot about ‘Dragon’s Claw’ again; a lapse that the hero intended to take full advantage of.
    Again screaming his defiance, the martial artist leaped – not toward the Kaliph, but toward the Green Glowing Gem that was the focus of Morpheus’ power. Hands of stone erupted from the walls to seize Dragon’s Claw, but the distraction again had the desired effect, as ‘Mist’ was able to cast a counter-spell to the Kaliph’s ’emotional storm’.
    As Morpheus turned to face her next attack, she fired an attack so devastating that the tower itself exploded around them, and everyone tumbled into the debris.
    Obviously tiring of this two-front war, the Kaliph attacked furiously, ignoring ‘Dragon’s Claw’, who was trapped beneath falling debris. But he was stretched too thin, unable to keep track of everyone, and so his back was turned when Dragon’s Claw tossed his sword to the one team member who had made zero contributions to the battle, and who was considered no threat by the Kaliph – ‘Glory’. Raising the weapon high overhead, she rammed it down into the Living Crystal. For a heartbeat, all was still – and then the Crystal exploded, as the Kaliph screamed, “NOOOOO!”

And, just as the Crystal shattered, so the did the reality that Morpheus had created…..

Epilogue I

The team awoke to find themselves gathered around the conference table in Boston. Hours had elapsed since the dream-crystal was shattered, propelling the team’s awareness into the Micro-realm, but they appeared to have been immobile throughout. Watching the team intently was a clearly-distressed Spider, who told them that he had been about to give up on waiting for them to come out of whatever kind of trance they had been in. Delicately, the team gave Spider a superficial account of the events of the last few hours. It was clear that many members would be some time coming to terms with what they had learned about themselves and their teammates.
    One member who would not be doing that reconciliation with the team was Mist. More clearly than ever, she understood herself, and that she could no longer continue with the team. She did not even have to announce her departure; Glory did that, drawing on her newfound understanding of the forces and needs that drove her teammate. The other members said their farewells, leaving Mist with a standing invitation to visit sometime, and if she needed help, she knew where to find them. Only St Barbara seemed not to recognize that Mist needed to make what had been a temporary separation, permanent. Mist thanked them, but – in addition to the personal reasons that they all knew, she now possessed a unique insight into the problems that Avalon would encounter in its quest to raise it’s technological standards. Her people needed that knowledge, so she no longer had a choice; she had to leave.
    Spider then handed Dragon’s Claw a letter that had been sent “Special Delivery” while the team were in the 5th Dimension, announcing that it looked like Mist was not the only member who would be departing. A refusal would have been sent through regular mail; only an acceptance of DC’s proposal to reform the Ullar Youth warranted a special delivery. A few seconds later, Spider’s surmise was shown to be correct. DC announced that he would be around for a couple of days, tidying up loose ends, but would be leaving by the end of the week to take up his new responsibilities.
    “And one other piece of unhappy news,” Spider concluded, “I regret to announce that Tally – Hellcat – and I are divorcing. Our marriage has been on the rocks for a while now; we tried not to let it get in the way of the job, but couldn’t stop the job getting in the way of the marriage. That’s the price that law-enforcement types sometimes have to pay, I’m afraid. So I guess I’ll be around a lot more from now on….”

Epilogue II: two days later…

Life for Zenith-3 is began to shake down to a new normal. Mist was no longer a member. Jimmy was still comatose, but his vital signs were stronger; he could awaken at any time. St Barbara had still not decided to do about the crush he has on her; she’s been wondering how much she led him on without realizing it, in light of some uncomfortable truths she learned about herself in the 5th Dimension. Dragon’s Claw had tied up his loose ends – some of which were very mysterious, involving sealed messages and urgent consultations with Behemoth.
    It’s all very worrying to the team.
    Spider has sought solace from his troubles in the arms of Glory; but she has yet to decide whether or not to encourage his attentions or turn him down. Everyone has slept soundly, but awoke with a lot on their minds.
    Several outstanding issues remain unresolved from the team’s sojourn in the 5th Dimension. Both of the Deputy Command positions are again vacant; and another round of elections have to organized to fill the gap. Mist’s retirement has left a large hole in the teams resources, which has to be allowed for.
    It seems almost certain that at some point, Morpheus – possibly no longer a Kaliph – will return to bring misery to the team. No megalomaniac worth his salt could swallow coming so close to victory only to have it snatched from his grasp.
    But possibly the most significant – if not the most important – outstanding issue was raised by Oracle during the mission debriefing. He had found the whole concept of a “Living Crystal” fascinating, and had spent some time mulling it over in his mind, arriving at a line of unverifiable speculation, which was duly transcribed into the records:
    “Do you realize that Viruses form crystals when dehydrated? Tobacco Mosaic virus can be dessicated, dried, cut up, and sprinkled on a tobacco plant – and it will infect that plant. In fact, the actual term Virus is an abbreviation of a more specific term – ‘Filterable Virus’ – so named because they can pass through a filter fine enough to filter Bacteria – the finest filter known at the time the Viruses were discovered. A dried virus is therefore once possible form of living crystal.
    “Now, at the micro-world scale, a single water molecule is whole universes wide. By definition, any virus at that scale MUST be in crystal form.”
    “Which is neither here nor there until you realize that there is only one known variety of life-form which is potentially that small AND capable of bestowing some pretty fearsome, if specific, powers. So, for the record, I put the question: Was Morpheus’ gem a Cosmic Symbiote – and if so, can it regroup and regrow from whatever shards were left behind…?”

And somewhere in the churning waters of the winter Atlantic, someone was swimming desperately for Boston Harbor, trying to reach Team Zenith-3 before it’s too late. But that’s a tale for some other time…

The Power Of Dreams There are some points worth emphasizing about this plotline. The Hero System I was helped considerably in preparing the adventure by the Hero System, which explicitly lists psychological quirks and traits, and by my own variation on those rules, which expands and extends that practice. That meant that I didn’t have to play psychoanalyst before getting to work on the adventure. Categorizing Personality Traits Each Character’s personality traits were broken into three groups: Those that were inherently part of the character for reasons of biology or race; those that were learned or instilled as a result of personal experiences or culture; and those that had evolved as specific coping mechanisms & reactions to the paranormal abilities of the character (this was a superhero campaign, after all). The character points value of each trait within the group gave an indication as to that trait’s relative strength. It’s worth noting that I had to know the characters in question in depth and detail to be able to do this. Fortunately, I had been privy to the character generation process for almost all of them. Composite Characters These were then used to create composite characters – the biological traits of one character (A), plus the personal experiences and culture of another (B), plus a transition from the coping mechanisms and responses that used to apply to the character providing the personal experiences element (B) to either those provided by the initial character (A) or to something new, where an element of (B), reinforced, could fulfill that role within the character’s makeup. Internal Logic and Choices of Composites I had so many different ways to explain the choice of composite characters that I could pretty much choose the most interesting and enlightening options, then pick the justification that gave the answer I wanted. Some of those explanations were offered in the course of the adventure synopsis above; others never got mentioned and are now long-forgotten. Reinforcement When you put personalities together by adding A+B+(C-> D), some of the personality traits would reinforce each other, or trigger each other. If “protective of children” or something to that effect is listed on both A and B, then A+B would receive a double-dose of it. This meant that second-tier personality traits of both A and B would rise in significance to become a dominant factor in the psychology of A+B. Cancellations On the other hand, some traits would tend to cancel each other out. For example, if A has ‘hot-headed’ and B has ‘calm’, or ‘slow to anger’, or ‘calculating’, or any of half-a-dozen others, they can be considered to subtract from each other’s impact on the A+B character, effectively canceling each other out. I made careful note of these cases so that I could deliberately introduce circumstances that would highlight the changes in behavior. Transitions The C-to-D transitions were used to plan how the composite characters would evolve as they became more – “comfortable” isn’t quite the right word, but it will do – in their new composite bodies. Again, careful notes were made about how these would impact the characters so that highlighting events could be written into the plot. From the inside looking out I spent quite a bit of time thinking about how different characters would see the world, given their combination of abilities. Many of them had/have ‘extra senses’ as part of their combination of abilities; suddenly, someone else would be looking the world through those eyes. In part, this was done through discussions`with the players of the original characters. I wanted to emphasize how these perceptions changed their world-view, and how they had manifested in certain character traits (the C->D element), as much as I could. In the end, I wasn’t able to do everything on my list in this respect – there is no mention made of the unusual vision powers (microscopic, telescopic, 270-degree vision) that St Barbara, now in the body of Blackwing, had to cope with, for example. There simply wasn’t enough time to do it all. There were some that had to come up, because they were too important to the composite characters; the others went unremarked simply because those characters had other things of greater significance to the character to resolve/display. From the outside looking in I also spent time with each player in the weeks/months leading up to the adventure finding out how each of the characters saw each other member of the team, and what their self-images were. These were a summation of the character’s in-game interactions with the characters in question, so while they may have started with a cultural/personality-based (i.e. defined) predisposition, they had inevitably evolved in the course of play. Some of these external perceptions became central to the way the characters interacted, because psychology causes behavior which creates both perceptions and interactions. Combat Roles I also had to think about how the characters would behave in combat. Some composites would find ways to use their new abilities in roles that were analogous to those they usually occupied within the team, while others would need to adjust to new roles – and would react to those roles in various ways. The choice not have an immediate combat sequence was deliberate – I wanted the players to have a chance to get used to the challenges and rewards of roleplaying the new composite role before I introduced this added complication. In part, characters assume a given combat role because of their abilities, and in part, because it suits their psychological profile. Take two characters, give them the same abilities but different personalities, and the individual’s combat styles will evolve in different directions. This adventure gave me the rare opportunity to explore all that. The Dreamscape This sort of wholesale body-swapping could only plausibly happen in a dream. That was fine, characters like Nightmare and Sandman have been around in comics for a long time, stemming from the notion of attacking characters when they are at their most vulnerable. At the same time, I wanted to explore the implications of a character that’s popped up in Marvel Comics a number of times (starting in the Fantastic Four), Psycho-Man and the ability of something so microscopic to have impacts on the macroscopic world. In particular, how was it that characters who shrink too small in the marvel universe always end up in the same place, dubbed the Micro-verse? Subatomic particles the relative size of planets? Okay, that derives from the “solar system” model of subatomic structures. So the Psycho-Man lives/lived on one particular subatomic particle that was part of one particular atom – how can you hit the same atom time after time? The only explanation was for the entire place to be an ‘elsewhere space’ that was accessible through shrinking, but was actually full-sized, relative to those who went there – another Dimension. Marvel themselves eventually came to the same conclusion. I also wanted to update the concept by expanding various aspects of subatomic physics that weren’t as well known back in the day, such as the defined electron shells, and quantum mechanics, to the macroscopic scale of the characters. James P. Hogan’s “Entoverse” (part of his Giants Series) had explored one interpretation of the concept; I wanted to touch on some alternatives, and add a whole new chapter to the campaign’s cosmology. The Dreamscape that resulted was strange and unique, but consistent throughout. It was a Morphic Reality that responded to the influence of Dreams. The Kaliph Morpheus had the ability in this realm to make dreams come true, and hence had set about fulfilling his dreams of domination. Dreams get to the heart Dreams get to the heart of how we see ourselves and our world, and how we think that others see us. They touch on our deepest fears, and our wildest and most unrealistic aspirations. If you could compile each individual’s dreams, it would be as uniquely identifiable as a fingerprint, because dreams reflect who we are at a very fundamental level. That is their singular nature. Dreams can affect ‘reality’ But Dreams can change the way we behave, and how we think, and – by extension – can therefore be at the root of events that transpire within our lives in the ‘real world’. It is probably going too far to suggest that all personality development takes place within our dreams and our nightmares, but perhaps our dreams and nightmares are manifestations of integrating our experiences into our personalities. They offer fertile grounds for the occasional adventure that gets to the heart of who the characters are and how they perceive the world around them, dealing directly with things that can otherwise only be addressed indirectly, inferred by actions and statements in the ‘rel’ game world. They can be powerful instruments in the hands of the GM who is willing to use them.