TEUTONIC MAGIC - Awaken Video

Laguz: Meditation
You stand at the bottom of a great waterfall, white spray splashing up into your face from the churning
river. A little green boat is tied to the drooping branches of a willow tree on the bank, tugging against the
rope in the grip of the current. You step into the boat cutting the rope loose and taking up the oars as your
craft skims swiftly downriver, jerking this way and that as you skillfully guide it among the rocks that
whip the water into white froth. You sense rather than see the sharp edges below the surface of the water,
pushing your boat away from the hidden boulders that could tear its bottom out at any moment.
After a while, the water deepens and you move smoothly along with the current down through the
twisting of the river through the high, craggy mountains above. You pass through a region of vineyards
and rich farmlands along the side of the great hills, watered by the streams that flow down from the tops
of their peaks to feed the river. Although the water you ride on is dark, every now and then you can see
the glint of gold in its depths, and the pale flashing of fish.
High above the sounds of the river, you hear the faint crystal sound of a woman’s voice singing
wordlessly. You strain to hear it more closely, but it is cut off as the river turns around the curve of a
mountain’s foot. When you have rounded the mountain, you hear the voice again, clearer and more
compelling, like the sweet voice of a silver bell rippling over the water in shimmering waves of sound.
Entranced, you let your oars fall, drifting closer to the hidden singer as the river runs along. You round
one last curve and see her sitting on a rock in the shallow backwaters, her legs hidden beneath the rippling
stream. She wears a wet, loosely woven green dress which is half-slipping off one shoulder; long black
hair streams around her face and down her back. Her face is beautiful and delicate, innocent but somehow
melancholy, as her song is melancholy beneath its beauty. You want to embrace and comfort her; your
boat drifts more slowly as you stare at her, lost in her high, clear singing.
The sense that warns you of something wrong is the same that warned you of the hidden rocks
upriver. Half-entranced still, you put your oars into the water to steer around the peril and strike hard
against a jagged line of rocks that would have shredded your boat in a few seconds. Looking hard at the
dark water beyond, you see that the river runs deep and hard around the maiden’s rock; if you had
followed her call any farther, you would have been drowned. She stops singing, rising up on her rock.
Instead of legs, she has the black, scaly tail of a great fish, dripping with moss and waterweed. Her mouth
opens in a snarl of anger and you see the sharp layers of a shark’s teeth within. Hastily you shove out into
the main current and let it carry you away from her. You glance back anxiously to see if she has slipped
into the water behind you, but she is waiting for her next meal, tail hidden beneath the river and delicate
lips curved in a sweet, melancholy smile.
As you move along, the earth about you begins to shake, the tremors rocking your boat. You steer
as close to the middle of the river as you can. Slowly the earthquake dies down, but the ruins of a
farmhouse to your left tells you that the land has suffered much worse, and not long ago: the broken
bricks are freshly whitewashed, and the pool of blood to one side of the rubble is not completely dry.
The river runs along swiftly, cutting through high, wave-eaten sandstone cliffs to flow out into the
ocean. Behind you, you hear a deep rumbling. Looking back, you see the land beginning to shake again,
moving more violently until one of the bluffs collapses into a great slide of sand, cracking away in huge
chunks that shatter on the beach or topple into the ocean. The high waves catch your little boat and fling it
about until something lifts it into the air from beneath, turning it over and casting you into the cold, dark
salt water. Suddenly frightened, you draw your sword and stab out through the water until the blade cuts
into something solid. You see the gleam of teeth in the water and feel something large thrashing beside
you. Stabbing again, you connect solidly and the thrashing stops. You think about swimming back to the
surface, but you are used to the water now; you breathe it easily and your sight is clearing till you can see
through the dark green layers of ocean with no more trouble than looking through fog.
As the very edge of your vision, large shapes move and circle. You sense a threat and swim deeper,
letting the darkness of the water hide you. There are more shapes below, nine water-nicors twice the size
of a man but roughly man-shaped, finned and dark- scaled with heads that round into thick ridges of bone
running from their eyesockets across the tops of their skulls. They swim up to you, sharklike jaws
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