Game: Dredge by scyllallycs.
Location: Trothguard, on the Sea of Angels.
Player Character: Unknown vessel/unknown captain.
Dredge is an exploration-based journaling RPG and was something I immediately thought would be a neat aid to my own worldbuilding - as I could use the game as prompts to create a story for a character that could be part of my world.
Today's card:
Day 11
I slept most of the day. Maybe because of the turbulence of my guts after being tossed around for so long yesterday, or maybe I've just been pushing myself harder than I should and needed a break. Either way, the rest was wonderful.
I dreamed, for the first time that I remember, and it was of people who knew me. Smiling faces, laughing and singing... thanking me for being there, and for just being me. I am losing details of the dream even as I write this, but it has left me feeling warmth and peace that I didn't think was possible out here on the water.
Dancing and singing with friends... maybe even family... it reminds me of why I run from the Hunter. Reminds me of why I must keep going... keep searching for a way out of this place. Somewhere, there's a world that isn't water and strange occurrences and mental fog. Somewhere out there are people who care about me.
I had been so preoccupied thinking about the dream that I didn't even really register that I was getting out my net and preparing to dredge. It was only as I tossed the net into the sea that I realized what I was doing, and sure enough, with that first haul up I found something.
It reminded me of a kindly face from my dream... blurry, and indistinct, but I recall the figure having a long beard and glasses and it brought tears to my eyes as I looked upon the battered old chess set.
Feeling it connect to the dream reinforced my suspicions about these items. I think they are something from my life before the sea, or perhaps they're things lost by people I knew.
Author's Note:
So, this chess set here was my dad's before he passed away. It travelled with him on the back of his motorbike throughout Canada and the US, and at one point in B.C. Canada, on a winding mountain road in a blizzard, fell off the back... scattering pieces into the snow and along the steep bank of the mountain road. Dad and his biker crew at that time stopped and picked up every piece as it was an item that my dad wasn't willing to let go of just because of a blizzard and a winding mountain road. It's something I'm particularly fond of.
