#dreaming

In the Dreaming near Bergen, a giant strides. This is not unusual, for River Vale's dreaming face is a land of giants, of towering blue behemoths born of dreams of nature and of guardianship, but the giant that strides here is no native son.

Along his skin, lines dance and come alive, his flesh an azure canvas for the art of his trade.

It takes what feels like days to find the glacier that only exists here....a Fjord formed of the chieftain's dreams. Hours to chip the ice shard off..... of course, avoiding the chimerical bear? That was a challenge. He could kill it, but no doubt his beloved's folks would protest. They are as sentimental about the nature here as he secretly is about the sea.

Fortunately, the drug on the meat, chimerical itself, has left the bear drowsy, and makes the mission possible. He supposes it would be more romantic to duel the damn thing , but again, one of them would likely die. And that would lead to tears or grumbles most likely. He is ready to head home.

Then the sounds of battle come up, and Duff's nostrils flared. Battle in the Dreaming was stupid. One mistep and you could find yourself stepping off the silver and whisked into a legend of some eternal battle in lands only imagined. But the battle cry caught his attention....

"Blood on the Road! Better theirs! HA!" A snarl!

Duff tries to place the chant, he's learned ,more so than many know, but not acquainted with every type. But it's not hard to deduce. Not here in the Dreaming. A knight of the way, or Rover, is in battle.

Well, he's not a Rover. This is none of his concern. Hell, whoever it was didn't even call for aid.

On the other hand, it did sound like a bit of a mess, and he enjoyed those. And there was that whole right of rescue bit. Oh fine, he thought to himself and went to see what was going on...

..............