[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1] [img]https://kieranmcmullen.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/mummy1999.gif[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=b8860b][b]Location:[/b][/color] Qasr El Nil Barracks --> Egyptian Museum [/center][hr][hr] The dreams had become more troubling in the last week. The past three days or so in particular - every time he closed his eyes, that shining, golden image appeared in his mind, resting upon his finger as if it belonged there, the forefront to beige sand and cloudless, blue sky. Without reason, it simply vanished, and the entire unconscious replay faded away, like a curtain dropping on an interpretive theatrical production. Not that the content of the dream had become more troubling, persay, but that the intensity of it grew immensely as of late, a feeling of urgency that was not initially present. The [i]realness[/i] of it all took on a sharper clarity over the past few days, incorporating more than mere visual imagery. Burning heat, as if the ring were a tiny piece of the sun itself, washed over his hand from where the ring touched, flowing and pulsing. Troubling, indeed. The imagery of Egypt had a number of repetitive motifs, as it came to the Ancient World. Symbolism and religious icons of beliefs no longer widely practiced, but given a new breath of life and interest by the discoveries from two scant years ago. It was no wonder that he began to dream of one symbol in particular. Perhaps it appealed on an instinctive level. Of course, it begged to question the timeline in which he had these dreams; if the Lord Major was correct, he first began to have them just prior to his assignment in Egypt, from the European Front. Logically, that made no sense. But that wasn't foremost on his mind. No, two things dominated his overt thought at that moment were as follows: 1) The pain of his dream, the ring searing his flesh, burned in his waking world now. The separation of Dream and Real was blurred, at least in this one aspect. 2) There was a [url=http://previewcf.turbosquid.com/Preview/2014/05/23__20_26_08/CamelSpider_2.jpg4bd5d415-a06b-4751-a4c0-02ef20421307Larger.jpg]camel spider[/url], approximately the size of a dinner plate, staring at him from the wall above. The pain of the searing ring faded into something tolerable, seconds after his eyes fluttered open. The sight of his unexpected visitor rooted the Lord Major to his bed. Their eyes seemed to lock, both laying motionless; one horizontal and the other impossibly vertical. He was unsure as to why the horrifying-looking creature was there. His doors were closed, as were his shutters. A trickle of light illuminated his room well enough in the early evening hours, well enough to notice the huge honking monster sizing him up, though he doubted that there was enough room for that massive solpugid to have wriggled into his quarters. How long had it been squatting in his room? Chilling, really. He had intended the past hour to be an invigorating nap, following afternoon Tea. The plan to rise refreshed, relaxed, and ready to greet the evening with vigor and gusto got waylaid somewhat. At least the "relaxed" part. He was most assuredly [b]raptly[/b] alert at the moment. But now there was the delicate problem of removing himself from his predicament without getting facehugged by an eight (ten?) legged monstrosity with corrosive spittle. He allowed a furtive glance to the side, locating his uniform coat and, more importantly, his Officer's sword. It was bright, and well cared for, with almost a full meter of slender, double-edged steel, and it represented the best chance he had to avoid solpugid facehuggery. Ever so carefully, he took hold of the hilt of his fine weapon and gingerly shook the blade free of its scabbard. He winced a bit as the solid blade-cover slapped to the ground, inciting a twitch of movement from the grotesque camel spider. The Lord Major briefly considered having to explain to the boy who did his sheets precisely [i]why[/i] he had shat the bed, and so in a textbook example of military discipline, clenched himself appropriately and soldiered on. The blade of his immaculate sabre rose with the practiced, liquid-lightning form of confident experience, coming parallel with his centerline and thrusting upward (sideways, from anyone else's point of view) and into the squiggling, spasming creature on the wall above him. The blade pinned its still-twitching corpse to its resting spot, sinking into the wall plaster. [color=b8860b]"Good show, old boy..."[/color] he congratulated himself, mostly glad he wasn't taken out by some verminous arthropod in his slumber. Dressing quickly, he remembered the burning on his hand, and decided to make an "on the route" stop before getting to his evening's endeavors (which mostly involved consuming brown liquor and catching a dancing exhibition involving a comely local he had come to know). The Lord Major had put off discussing this long enough, especially considering the fact that he was very close with an expert on the subject who worked just next to the barracks. With sudden but stodgy grace, the portly man threw on the remainder of his uniform, buckled on his sword and pistol, and moved from his quarters to greet the early evening. He descended the stairs, catching sight of one of the local boys that the Royal Air Force employed for menial tasks, houseboys and the like, and slipped him a farthing. [color=b8860b]"You there, ah, [i]sabi[/i]! Sabi, please if you would, the corpse of a most frightening Nile spider is stuck above my bunk. Take care of that for me... Oh, and do find someone to bug-proof my dwelling. Netting maybe, I don't know. Just be quick about it! One never knows when one may have company."[/color] The old man lay a finger beside his nose and gave the boy a knowing wink, before bounding off to the barracks exterior. From behind him, the dutiful houseboy called out a quick, "'Aywa, Major Keystone!" before running up the stairs and eventually shrieking. The Lord Major heard not the startled expression of the young RAF charge, instead happily along his way across the yard and into the building just to the north, the Egyptian Museum. He walked straight inside, giving polite nods to any caretakers nearby and looking around in search of someone. He mumbled aloud to himself, audibly but low, [color=b8860b]"Now, wherever is Lady Munn... ?"[/color]