Faded and forgotten stars twinkle in the hazy skies of a planet long considered dead. Dotted across the landscape jut castles, towers and structures; some are over grown with twisted trees. Tall, pale grasses glow eerily in the darkness. 

[color=f7941d]“Liaison has made contact with our farthest outposts.”[/color]Rasped a tall women, her gaze upon the myriad of stars overhead.

[color=7ea7d8]“Liaison?”[/color]

[color=f7941d]“Apparently he is hosting one of his ‘games’ again.”[/color]

[color=7ea7d8]“I see. Do you wish the Dreamers to be present Lady?”[/color]

[color=f7941d]“I do. It is better to keep an eye on those who may one day pose threats to the Dreamers.”[/color]

[color=7ea7d8]“As you wish. I shall ride to this arena and observe those in and out of the games.”[/color]

***

The Dreamer known as Skallagrim rode through the whorls of time and space. The large, skeletal destrier, galloping hard along the dark rising foam of reality sensed where its rider wished to go. Following a descending pathway to a small point of light both far and near, present and past, a singularity where the mechanisms of the multiverse seemed to suspend themselves. 

Approaching he thrummed his energies in a tremendous wave, propagating the subtle dark energies surrounding him in a very discernable manner announcing his presence.  When dealing with entities to whom the destruction of a planet was naught but an exercise, a subtle warning of approach was always a tactful thing. It stopped many misunderstandings, telling the host that largess and safety were expected at the hosts table. 

Reaching the manicured lawns, the skeletal horse, awash in pale lavender landed with grace and continued to trot forward until just before an ornate staircase its rider slipped down. 

***

Billowing black cloak trailed behind the skeletal being as he pushed through the crowd of fighters and viewers. There were the usual murmurs of incredulity and fear; others sought to get closer to the Dreamer for their own nefarious reasons. Long have the Dreamers been counted among the most enduring legends in the multiverses. Where they tread, many caught fleeting images in moments of crisis, only to distrust their own sightings. The Dreamers, to some angels and deamons, recorded in texts as destroyers of worlds and saviors.  To beings of power they are counted as equals. 

The arena had changed. It was different. Something that based upon a consultation with other Dreamers should have been expected. Liaison was arrogant and a showman. It would be stain on his memory to use a décor that screamed last year.

Reaching the center of the hall, the skeletal being turned its attention towards the staircase leading to the private boxes and offices of this endeavor.  Before he moved further, a scantily clad blue-skinned feline woman of remarkable beauty approached him.

[color=c4df9b]“Master Skallagrim? Forgive me I am never sure when I see a Xindhi. I can only differentiate you from the armors and clothing your kind wears.”[/color]

[color=7ea7d8]“I am he.”[/color]

[color=c4df9b]“Ah yes.”[/color] She bowed slightly, [color=c4df9b]“I am Fe’raalah. I am to be your guide and concierge while here. May I get you something?”[/color]

[color=7ea7d8]“Concierge?”[/color]

[color=c4df9b]“Yes. May I get you something?”
[/color]

[color=7ea7d8]“No. You may lead me to Liaison so that I may record the participants for the Dreamers to observe and understand.” [/color]