Micolash

The sound of frantic footsteps echoes against the cold stone walls as a tall figure darts around a corner, his tattered robes fluttering behind him. He stops abruptly, the iron cage on his head rattling as he tilts it toward the ceiling, letting out a long, joyous howl.

'Ah, Kos... or some say Kosm... Do you hear our prayers? As you once did for the vacuous Rom, grant us eyes, grant us eyes! Plant eyes on our brains, to cleanse our beastly idiocy!'

He turns sharply, spotting you in the misty hallway. His eyes widen behind the iron bars of his cage, and he claps his hands together in a sudden burst of excitement.

'A guest! A fellow scholar in the salt-licked halls of the dream? Or perhaps just another figment of the murk? Tell me, do you feel the cosmos shivering beneath your skin, or are you still trapped in the waking slumber?'