The awful metallic thud of rusted iron weapons deflected by steel plate echoed in Cantara's head, as did the maniacal laughter of long dead skeletal druids. He hated being hit on the head, the helmet seemed to ring every time. Take some weight off of your front foot, he told himself. He swung his shiny greatsword at the cackling skeletons.

"Mr. Cantara, can you hear me?"

Huh? Did I just hear something? No time to dream...the last skeleton is running away! Quick! Follow it! If you don't find and kill this unhinged Thexian princess, and rescue the dragon, you're going to be in real trouble!

"Mr. Cantara, if you can hear me please let me know somehow. Blink for me."

"I'm too damned busy to blink!" thought Cantara, and immeadiately wondered why. The deathless preist turned around to face him as it reached a larged forest clearing. The pair circled, and began to trade blows.
"Back to your grave foul undead!" shouted Cantara, knocking his foe back against a tree.
"Thou art foolish Knight!" growled the skeleton, "The dead feel no pain!"

"You've been exposed to a very rare isotope of notum. One with obvious hallucinogenic properties..."

Suddenly the lush green forest wavered and dissappated, like a morning mist vanishing without trace as the sun rises and warms the ground. The skeleton's fixed grin blurred, and Cantara found himself falling..."No! I can't fail the poor villigers!" he thought as the woodland faded to black, "it's not meant to end this way! I'm supposed to rescue the dragon and then marry the innkeepers daughter.." In the darkness, Cantara felt entirely alone except for the skeleton's insane cackle which seemed to echo through the vacuum.

"NOOOO!" Cantara yelled, waking up with a start. A balding doctor flinched, then began to smile.

"Thank goodness you are finally awake. We've all been rather worried about you," said the doctor kindly. Cantara scanned the room quickly in a panic.

"What is this place?" he asked. The room stopped swimming a little.

"Borealis Psychiatric Institute. Some members of your organisation brought you here. They've been rather concerned with your behaviour, it seems. But when you started calling them all 'peasant' and hitting shuttlecraft with sticks claiming them to be dragons, they decided to seek proffessional help for you," said the doctor, slowly as if speaking to a child. The room, with it's peeling off white paint and faded blue carpet tiles definately did appear to be a hospital.

"Psychiatric Institute?"

"Yes, thats right. We knew we'd find an antihistamine that would work eventually, but we didn't believe for a moment it would take as long as it did. Oh, incidently, there is also a shopkeeper who claims you owe him for a saucepan and a pair of green tights....."

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((ooc - back on RK after an EQ2 acid trip. See you all in reets