A T

T H E

G A T E S
Or, who are they, whom we fight

Nightmares are commonplace things. Images of fear are more disturbing than
dangerous. More deadly, by far, are pleasant dreams. Dreams from which we do not
wish to awake; that stifle ambition, placate desire, and ultimately smother will.

Some do so from active evil intent, seeking to bring forth their dark dominion
once more one earth- these are Inspirations, the overlords of the shadowlands of
dream.

Other dreams, no less dangerous, seek only to duplicate themselves, much as

any other form of life; they are the beasts that gnaw the bones left by inspirational
conquest, and scrabble at the gates of the crystal cities of the mind. Such beasts
supplant the native mind, twisting it into an incomplete thing, wholly consumed by
their cancerous identity. Such are Multiples.

These dreams are the proper foes of the Lucid, though not the only ones. All
things are dangerous and beneficent by turns in the lands of sleep.

The defense of the dream is a battle without end, a war without inception or
hope of final victory.

The barbarians are forever at the gates.

Unless First
In the opening years of this century, several murders were carried out by an
otherwise unremarkable schoolteacher; hearts were taken and burned in each case.
Upon his apprehension, the gentleman in question was found to be cogent, and,
apparently, sane, saving only that his remarks concerned nothing but profound,
moving dreams of this world being the fifth in a line of similar planets, now vanished.
It was his belief that the deaths he had caused were necessary.

A considerable period in the past, the selfsame dream took hold of a greater
number, unopposed; the result being the empire whose heart lies
buried at Tenochtitlán.

This is an example of an Inspiration, and the root of nearly all

mankind's convictions regarding the will of gods and spirits;
previous generations of dreamers termed these same creatures
'the dreams imperial', for their tendency to seek temporal power.
It may at first seem illogical for a creature of the unconscious to
seek power and agency in the waking world- until one recalls that
Inspirations, almost without exception, regard the separation
between the two as both unnatural and reversible. In the event that
mankind can be shackled in service to the idea, divorced from
reason and waking, the dreamtime- so believe the Inspirations- can
return.

This may not be entirely true, on balance; however, belief has its
own power in the dreamtime, and the armies of beguiling are
beyond number, more than sufficient to create, should they succeed,
their own reality.

Inspirations are, in circles with knowledge of their existence, generally sorted by

the particular appeal they dangle before their victims to gain acquiescence.
Of these categories, the most potent are the theocrats, who take upon
themselves the mantle of divinity; the facets of theocratic appeal are many, from the
comfort of authority, to the paternalistic love of a personal god and the
accompanying self-aggrandizement. Most of all, however, theocrats feed on the
tradition of faith; preying, to a greater or lesser extent, on entire extended families.
This guaranteed source of pawns is what grants them their edge over their fellows.
 As fearsome as theocrats, but of a gentler semblance, are the erotics, who
make use of the desires that the flesh cannot satisfy; warping the body into the
sexual ideal the waking self longs for, and granting it those pleasures it could not
possibly indulge outside of the dream. These pleasures may, of themselves, be less
directly dangerous than the unreasoning allegiance demanding by the gods, but the
loss of connection to the truths of the body is one more step toward sleeping oblivion
for mankind.

Beyond these two foremost nobilities of nightmare, various splinter groups,

based around hunger, material wealth, or the want of power; indeed, Inspirations
exist who dangle lures as obscure as childhood dogs. None, however, match the
comfort of divine interest, or the pleasures of sexualized desire.

Inspirations are a profound danger to dreamers; they are organized, and

more intelligent than most of humanity, capable of concerted activity to destroy those
they perceive as threats. Many ancient accounts of hell as a place of parliments,
principalities, and councils are based around confused impressions of Inspirational
armies.

We are Such Stuff

In contrast to the malice of Inspirations are the behaviors
common to Multiples, the lower life of the unconscious realms;
they inhabit a twilit realm between instinct and intelligence- less
than men, more than beasts. This dichotomy, however, has not
instilled anything recognizable as scruple.

Multiples are madness personified; dreams so far beyond the

experiences of the waking world that they can only come from
outside. Outside the mind that experiences them- and outside of all
the worlds humanity has come to know.
Howard Phillips Lovecraft, a noted (though not
uncontroversial) lucid of his day, finally fell in combat with the
multiples he had spent his life documenting; the aftermath of his
demise being a reality incursion sufficiently severe to wipe his home
town of Innsmouth from the face of the earth, rendering it
retroactively fictional.
 The horror of the multiple dream, to give them their full title, is twofold; first, they
relate to dreamers not as pawns to be manipulated, but as food to be consumed; a
dreamer who fails in battle with an Inspiration may yet be saved, but one who is
consumed by multiples, in whole or in part, is at best disturbed and forever changed,
and at worst, a hollow shell, spewing forth the chosen image of their body's true
inhabitant.

The second facet of multiple incursions that, in a world rich in ironies, keeps
lucids awake at night, is their native subtlety. Generally speaking, a multiple dream is
entirely contained within a single motif- a recurring object, impression, or event.
Multiples are generally categorized by the type of repeated stimulus in which they
are embodied.

Multiples linked to a visual image or object are called glimmers, not without
reason, since light patterns are in fact a common carrier of their taint. These are
among the easiest to combat, since the removal or significant change of the image,
including iteration, is sufficient to drive the intruder out.

Those linked to a recurring action are known as tics, and are considerably
more difficult to destroy; frequently, they are not even detected until much too late,
when it becomes apparent that a persistent habit is rooted not within, but without the
psyche.

Recurring event linkages are usually known as flashbacks, as this is the

impression they produced upon the observer. Time within the dreamscape being
what it is, they are nearly as subtle as their brethren; however, differing reactions to
multiple repetitions of the event seem to harm the creatures, causing the loop to
gradually decay.

Even with all the knowledge dreamers of today possess with regard to the
wolves of dream, infection is still a distinct possibility; more than one seemingly
invincible warrior of image has been felled by a tune they couldn't get out of their
head.
Our precious diamonds
Beside external threats to agency and sanity, all dreamers must eventually face
an enemy within- their shadow. While the concept of an unacknowledged portion of
the self must be regarded as an ancient one- talk of inner demons is nothing new-
our modern age has provided unprecedented avenues for the expression of this
other self.

In our responses to the honeyed messages of advertisers and politicians, which

enter into our minds each day and hour without notice, through the
corner of the eye.

In the electron highways, where a thousand thousand other

identities are tried, discarded, modified, reiterated, made whole
again.

In the justified fears of people living in a world on the edge of oblivion by

nuclear, chemical, or biological means.

There are a thousand doorways, today, for the entrance of the shadow.

Dreamers fear shadows because they are

one of the few opponents capable of challenging
them on precisely even terms; shadows possess
their own stock of images, and, as fellow-travelers in a dreamer's form, they have full
access to the dreamer's immersion, albeit not without effort.

The other aspect of shadows that breeds fear in the dreaming population is
their alien nature; they are, though internal, possessed of their own will and purpose,
almost always at odds with the ends of the primary mind.

Shadows also represent a potential weak point for unwary lucids;

the shadow is as susceptible to infection by multiples as any other
dreaming being, and as capable of being suborned by (or even, in
some cases, making alliance with) inspirations.

Only unremitting vigilance, and, ultimately, a coming to terms, can make the
shadow anything less than a downfall in waiting.
 A strange
And beautiful Flower

Though beleaguered by many foes, a dreamer is not, essentially, a warrior in

the most traditional sense; any use of their most potent weapons leaves a dreamer
vulnerable after the fact, so that most seek to exist primarily as travelers and
observers.

The reason for this reticence is immersion, and the loss thereof; immersion
results from treating a dream as reality, and is lost by treating a dream as the
malleable thing a dreamer may know it to be.

With insufficient immersion, a dreamer's conviction is insufficient to make use of

their images and other abilities is insufficient to the tasks they undertake.

With too much, however, a dreamer may never emerge from the dream in
which they are traveling; the reality they have accepted becomes the only one in
which they may move.

To state matters with more precision:

In any scene- a scene being here defined as a sequence
of events in roughly the same location, or related
thematically- in which a character treats the dream they
are moving through as entirely real, obeying all of its
laws and using only the basic capabilities of their
persona, or iteration of images, that character gains a
point of immersion.

One point of immersion is sufficient to:

-Warp a single image for the duration of a scene.
-Put forth a dictum that will hold true for the same
duration.
-Insert an image, which will abide until warped or
iterated into another form.
-Reverse the effects of these same actions for the
duration of a scene.
-Immediately move to a deeper symbolic level, abandoning
the present dream's form, though not necessarily escaping
all danger.
 On the opposite side of the equation, a character who treats a dream as
malleable, unreal, and ephemeral gains a degree of resistance to that dream, and is
therefore able to ignore effects that would ensnare a more immersed dreamer.

When a character moves through a scene freely making use of their powers to
warp and insert, and otherwise manipulate and change a dream, they grow more
convinced of the essential truth of the waking world; they gain grounding.

While grounding makes a dreamer less able to lay their will upon the
dreamscape, it also render them considerably more resilient to the hostile effects of
images.

For purposes of arbitration:

In any scene where a character acts in such a way that
they do not gain immersion, denying the reality of the
dream, they gain one point of grounding.

This point can be spent to:

-Ignore the effects of an attempt to warp the character's
persona or images.
-Ignore an inserted image, effectively rendering it not
present within the dream.
-Immediately awaken, abandoning the dreamscape; in most
cases, this leaves all enemies behind.

In the first case, the initiator of the warping attempt

does not have to spend a point of immersion if they do not
repeat the attempt in the same way on the same image- as
if the attempt never happened.

The Center of Every Man

A lucid's images are their most precious possessions for many reasons- to
some, they are mere playthings, pleasant things used to provide a congenial
atmosphere wherever their minds may travel.

To a dreamer encountering one of the antagonistic forces we have recently

described, however, images are far more important; it is the use of images that is the
only way in which dreams can be fought.
The three methods that can be used to bring forth or
manipulate images are as follows:

First, warping, the movement from one image to another,

perhaps unrelated image, in sensory stages; this requires
immersion, and can only be used to manipulate form.

Warping attempts generally rely on similarities of

texture, shape, appearance, or scent to provide the
transition; there must always be some congruence between
the result and the origin.
An apple could become a lump of bloodied meat, both bright
crimson- and an apple could become a pear- both fruits,
similar in character- but turning an apple into a small
dog is beyond the powers of warping, at least in one
transition.
Over the course of a scene, characters can bring images
through as many transitions as is reasonable, though
others inhabiting the dream may reverse or change the
course of warping to suit their own ends; when a warping
attempt is countered in this way, an additional point of
immersion must be spent.
 The second of the two disruptive uses of images- that
is, those that require immersion- is insertion, which can
be enormously blatant or entirely subtle, depending upon
the skill with which it is used.

Insertion simply brings forth an exemplar of one of

the dreamer's images, in a place of their choosing within
the dreamscape; the precise details of the image are
typical of its appearance within the dreamer's own mind,
though subsequent warping can sometimes cause it to fit in
more seamlessly- if this is done, the character can
interact with the image without gaining grounding.

Because insertion brings forth images entire, and in

the ideal form the dreamer originally conceived them in,
it is usually considered most useful for summoning
weapons, havens, or means of escape- it is the most
reliable method of doing so.

The third art, which is sometimes referred to,

portentously, as the true art of the dreamer, is
iteration, the only non-disruptive means of manipulating
images.

When an image is iterated, its

form or intent is changed in accord
with the meanings of the image, on a
symbolic or philosophic level; for
instance, a flower could become a
seed, from which all flowers
ultimately spring, and that seed could
in turn become a zygote, the seed of
life, which can then be iterated into
the sensation of desire, the
prerequisite, in most cases, of the
formation of such zygotic matter.

Iteration is an enormously potent

tool, but has its dangers; most images have multiple
meanings, some hostile to the intention of the original
iterator, and poor reasoning can cause an iteration to
fail, falling in upon itself.
Iteration does not require the dreamer to expend immersion
to enable its use.

All of the above means can be used by inspirations and

multiples as well as dreamers; the number of points of
immersion to which such a creature has access can be used
to gauge its relative threat, although a clever dreamer
can defeat a much more powerful antagonist on occasion.

The shadow can also make use of some of these

techniques, and has its own seven images to do so with,
and gains immersion whenever the character does. The
shadow can use this immersion at any time to advance its
agenda; the character can make use of a shadow's powers by
making a bargain.
This bargain requires, at minimum, granting the shadow
a single point of immersion from the character's own
store, creating an imbalance of power the dreamer would be
unwise to leave be.
Shadows do have one weakness; as fragments, not whole
psyches, they cannot make use of iteration.

In addition to use of images, as a use of their grasp

of dream-logic, a dreamer can lay down a dictum, a simple
prohibition or rule that must be held true for all parties
unless erased by an effort of will. A dictum cannot be
designed in such a way as to destroy an opponent directly,
and the scope of this power is quite limited- more or less
to nonsensical or trivial matters.

The dreamer, as well as his opponents, must act in

accordance with the dictum for the duration of the scene
in which it was brought forth; failure to do so erases a
point of immersion, and may have other consequences
depending on the nature of the dictum.

As they usually already operate according to

incomprehensible private rules, inspirations and multiples
are not capable of bringing forth a dictum.