Deep in the Feywood, an aging Eladrin firstborn is dreaming. He walks among hundreds of his kind in a forest community that feels somehow familiar. He sees a great ball of fire hanging in the sky above him and is not afraid. He had, in fact, rejoiced to the strange comfort of its warmth on his skin. And then black moons rose quickly into the sky. Some scatter of people – a shouting above the hoofbeats – and the rider, madness in his eyes. He wakes suddenly without screaming. Hardly at all.
From Hollowfield to Borodhan the firstborn are jolted from sleep by the intensity of their dreams. And they are not alone. On this day …
- 1,209 people woke believing that they had had a prophetic dream
- 812 people could not remember their name for hours after waking
- 168 people couldn’t shake the feeling that they had to do something before breakfast but they couldn’t remember what it was
- 143 of these went and had breakfast anyway
- more than 50 people across the land woke with what they would later admit was an Unbelievably Bad Idea, but with the exception of the man who was destined to be known as the Poopthief, no one followed through.
But most importantly…
A half-dozen or so mostly unrelated individuals woke with a mysteriously strong urge to go have a beer.