Jherick neatly places his gear to the side of the bottom bunk in an organized fashion that he alway prefers; easy access to his equipment is always a good habit to get into incase of some type of invasion or emergency, he thought. The conversation continued behind him from a few people that had decided to gather and sit on the floor exchanging words between each other, possibly for comfort. Jherick quickly shrugged off the conversations and began to focus on climbing into the bottom bunk, which always seem to prove a difficult task with his right leg in bad shape ever since his "awakening" in the Underdark.
He finally manages to get comfortable and his bad leg straightened before letting out a deep breath of exhaustion, with that done he closes his eyes. The sound of the crackling fire still being heard in the background, as always when sleeping in the Beacon, and the faint mumor of the few people and their conversations. Finally, Jherick begins to drift off into sleep, the sounds detaching themselves from his attention and mind...
One hour later...
Jherick awakens suddenly, engulfed in darkness. He quickly climbs to his feet and glances around frantically. Is he dreaming? He wondered. Of course. He figured. Then, a tremor shook him and down near his feet strange tennacles emerged from the dark floor and around Jherick's legs as they began to squeeze him. One tennacle jabbed into his right thigh sending a sharp, surge of pain through him as he grabbed the tennacles and screamed in pain.
He could feel the tennacle in his right leg squirm and tunnel through his flesh and meat, tearing away tissue and out of desparation, he began to beat the long, strange tennacles with his fists determined to free himself. With a surprise, the tennacles release him and quickly retreat into the dark floor again. Jherick slumps to the floor in confusion and agony. He clinches his right leg with his hands to hopefully slow the bleeding, after a few seconds have passed, he removes his hands to discover that the wound has completely vanished. He climbs back to his feet and glances down at his thigh once more then slowly looks back up in front of him to spot a dark figure in a strange robe only a few yards away. The figure was quite tall, yet slanky, not built like a fighter. Jherick could not make out a clear image of the being, only a dark outline and the outline of the being's face seem odd and squirmy.
Suddenly, the image of the being shatters into a thousand of pieces and flies toward Jherick, each piece penetrating Jherick's head. The sharp pieces dig into Jherick's skull and into his mind ripping away his thoughts and memories as his head begins to spin rapidly and painfully. Jherick drops to the ground holding his head in agony and screams as loud as he can. All of the sudden, Jherick awakes in his bunk in the Beacon, drinched in sweat and his heart racing. He realized that it was another dream...or nightmare. To be safe, he checks his leg, finding no gash or large wound, satisfied, he lays back on the pillow to calm himself down and catch his breath. Why do these dreams haunt me so? He thought to himself. He wipes the sweat from his face. After several of minutes thinking, Jherick finally becomes mentally exhausted and falls back to sleep...