Scene 8b
Scene 8b Sloth's Solitude Disturbed
Sloth sat in his underground cell, crosslegged, a deck of dog-eared playing cards in his hands. He was playing solitaire for perhaps the thousandth time since he had gone back to the academy catacombs. Things had been boring for him since returning, and he just couldn't get up the desire to go get some more modern entertainment.
He flipped the cards with a practiced precision and wondered again why he couldn't sleep. His vision schedule said he wasn't supposed to be active again for another 25 years, and yet slumber would not come. Perhaps there was an error in his calculations someplace, but he had charted the advance of human civilization carefully, and the terrible disruptions and disasters that presaged the next stage of human evolution were still in their early warning stages. All too soon mankind would have to take it's rightful place in the fight with the creatures beyond, but the time was not yet ripe.
Sloth set aside his cards, listening in utter silence to the sounds of the Academy. He heard fighting in some of the halls and grinned at the thoughts of the traps he'd laid before he retired to the portion of the Academy situated in physical reality. He'd know if anyone managed to breach his Sanctum, but he suspected he wouldn't have any problems with Ken gaurding the door.
Some of the fighting was moving closer. Sloth briefly considered the odds that two or more of the Aspirants had ganged up on Ken, or maybe another of the Sins out on a jaunt. There were too few of them anymore to have to worry about a large scale battle, so Sloth wasn't worried. Besides, Ken could take care of himself.
Despite his faith in his protector, Sloth stood with a groan, leaning heavily on a sturdy wooden staff as he made his way slowly over to the back wall of the cavern he sat in. His cards stayed where he left them on the floor, untouched in his distraction. Sloth reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of chalk, which he used to slowly begin drawing runes on the far wall of the cavern.
The runes focused his supernatural sight, making the cavern look like the tower he knew and allowing him, while still conscious, to maneuver around the dreamscape as effectively as any of the dreamers. Outside, the sounds of fighting grew louder, and a loud thump shook loose some of the dust from the cavern ceiling. Sloth shook his head and shuffled off towards a darker part of the cavern, his other sight showing him it led 'up' to a higher portion of his tower, despite the floor never once changing grade.
Sloth reached the darkest corner of the cave and carefully took down one of the unlit torches in preparation to light it. The newly lit area was a deep indentation with stone steps leading into it, carved into the floor by some ancient crafter's hand. the indentation was filled with benches and long, low desks. in one corner a supply of rare books glittered in the torchlight, waiting for use.
Sloth shuffled his quiet way over to the corner with the books and began to peruse the titles, picking one or two almost at random before sitting down in an overstuffed, throne-like chair. He set the torch in a nearby holder and was patiently reading when the sounds of the fight moved into the outer chamber. Tonight, it seemed, he had guests.
End of scene 8b
Sloth sat in his underground cell, crosslegged, a deck of dog-eared playing cards in his hands. He was playing solitaire for perhaps the thousandth time since he had gone back to the academy catacombs. Things had been boring for him since returning, and he just couldn't get up the desire to go get some more modern entertainment.
He flipped the cards with a practiced precision and wondered again why he couldn't sleep. His vision schedule said he wasn't supposed to be active again for another 25 years, and yet slumber would not come. Perhaps there was an error in his calculations someplace, but he had charted the advance of human civilization carefully, and the terrible disruptions and disasters that presaged the next stage of human evolution were still in their early warning stages. All too soon mankind would have to take it's rightful place in the fight with the creatures beyond, but the time was not yet ripe.
Sloth set aside his cards, listening in utter silence to the sounds of the Academy. He heard fighting in some of the halls and grinned at the thoughts of the traps he'd laid before he retired to the portion of the Academy situated in physical reality. He'd know if anyone managed to breach his Sanctum, but he suspected he wouldn't have any problems with Ken gaurding the door.
Some of the fighting was moving closer. Sloth briefly considered the odds that two or more of the Aspirants had ganged up on Ken, or maybe another of the Sins out on a jaunt. There were too few of them anymore to have to worry about a large scale battle, so Sloth wasn't worried. Besides, Ken could take care of himself.
Despite his faith in his protector, Sloth stood with a groan, leaning heavily on a sturdy wooden staff as he made his way slowly over to the back wall of the cavern he sat in. His cards stayed where he left them on the floor, untouched in his distraction. Sloth reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of chalk, which he used to slowly begin drawing runes on the far wall of the cavern.
The runes focused his supernatural sight, making the cavern look like the tower he knew and allowing him, while still conscious, to maneuver around the dreamscape as effectively as any of the dreamers. Outside, the sounds of fighting grew louder, and a loud thump shook loose some of the dust from the cavern ceiling. Sloth shook his head and shuffled off towards a darker part of the cavern, his other sight showing him it led 'up' to a higher portion of his tower, despite the floor never once changing grade.
Sloth reached the darkest corner of the cave and carefully took down one of the unlit torches in preparation to light it. The newly lit area was a deep indentation with stone steps leading into it, carved into the floor by some ancient crafter's hand. the indentation was filled with benches and long, low desks. in one corner a supply of rare books glittered in the torchlight, waiting for use.
Sloth shuffled his quiet way over to the corner with the books and began to peruse the titles, picking one or two almost at random before sitting down in an overstuffed, throne-like chair. He set the torch in a nearby holder and was patiently reading when the sounds of the fight moved into the outer chamber. Tonight, it seemed, he had guests.
End of scene 8b