The Dreamlands Express was a vessel of velvet and contradiction — every surface both sumptuous and unnerving, every reflection slightly wrong. The train did not move through space as much as it slid through meaning. Its compartments shifted like thoughts between waking and sleep, rooms appearing and dissolving as easily as recollections. The front of the train reeked of labor and fire; the rear whispered of cats and their secret dominions. Between these extremes lay indulgence — a sanctuary of bathhouses, banquet halls, and illusions so perfect they hurt to look at.

When night descended, the passengers dressed for dinner. Finery awaited each of them — garments tailored not to their bodies, but to their memories. The banquet hall stretched longer than its occupants could justify, chairs vanishing into haze. Henri presided, a flawless phantom of etiquette. Turtle soup gave way to roasted birds and the grotesque opulence of grilled elephant pads stuffed with truffles. Wines from places no map could name flowed freely — Sarob, Carthian, Zug. Each taste teased the palate and the soul alike.

Conversation wound its way through philosophy and dread. Mackenzie, the Scottish soldier of another age, spoke of the train as a one-way pilgrimage — a journey to lay down one’s burdens and wake lighter, or perhaps not wake at all. Karakov, the arms dealer, tried to laugh but flinched when thunder shook the dream sky. Only Claire heard it: the distant boom of artillery that none of the others perceived. Her sanity, already frayed, bent further. Karakov’s terror was immediate and raw — the terror of a man who had sold death and now dreamt of its return. Henri soothed him with mechanical precision. “No harm can come to you on this train,” he promised. But there was no conviction behind his porcelain smile.

Madame Bruja, ancient and ghost-pale, sat silent through most of the meal until talk turned to death. She spoke then, softly and without fear: she had died long ago, she said, yet still lived here among dreamers. This world, she called it, was “beyond death, but not unalive.” When pressed, she rebuked Arthur’s blunt curiosity with cold offense, as though etiquette were the last bastion of the soul.

Through it all, Henri served — trays materializing from a door that opened for no one. Claire’s sharp eyes caught it: bowls and tureens floating unassisted from the silent kitchen, handed to him by nothing at all. The perfection of the scene became unbearable. Even the silence of the kitchen had weight.

When a small black kitten darted into that forbidden space, Henri retrieved it with tender efficiency. Its mother followed — a regal black cat with knowing eyes. “The cats,” he said with a bow, “are lovely passengers, but not much for rules.” The understatement chilled more than it comforted.

Then came the Moontree Wine — a liquid of pale luminescence, thick as half-remembered dreams. Henri offered it as a nightcap, promising rest “deep and peaceful.” Some drank. Others did not. Viola welcomed it eagerly; sleep, for her, was long overdue. The rest turned to brandy, cards, and distraction.

In quiet corners, conversations deepened. Per Oskarson, ever the analyst of the human soul, warned that unburdening oneself without understanding was a dangerous thing — a shortcut that might bypass the lessons of suffering. Claire, her mind fragile as glass, clung to his words without believing them. To her, the war in her head had already been lost.

Henri appeared later, as they each drifted toward their cabins, to teach them the art of creation. “In the Dreamlands,” he said, “you may manifest that which you imagine. The living are unique in this way.” He bade them picture something small — a trinket, an heirloom, a comfort. Each did so. Arthur found a cricket bat in his hand, its weight too real for illusion. Mackenzie conjured a golf club and, laughing, invited Arthur to join him atop the train to drive balls into eternity. Under the silver moon they swung together, the wind whispering like an old friend. Their conversation turned inevitably to war — the one behind them and the ones they pretended would never come again. Beneath the absurdity of dream golf, two soldiers mourned futures they could already feel turning dark.

In the parlor below, Per and Claire played cards with Karakov, probing gently at his beliefs. He claimed ignorance of how he came to this train, though Per’s trained eye caught the tremor beneath the denial. Karakov no longer cared whether he was dead or dreaming; he merely wanted to believe in the promise of absolution. Walter’s faith clashed with Per’s reason, but both recognized the terrible seduction of forgetting one’s sins.

As the night deepened, the Dreamlands Express slowed without sound. Through its windows, the world grew sharper, more defined — the way dreams sometimes do just before they end. The train came to rest at a black basalt platform before a city of spires. Salt air licked the edges of perception, and laughter echoed from robed figures waiting on the platform. Their clothes shimmered like scripture made flesh — golden threads, silken robes, the garb of saints or deceivers.

The name came to them in a whisper through the carriage: Dylath-Leen.

And though none of them remembered learning it, they all knew it was true.

The train sighed. Somewhere in the rear, a cat purred. And ahead — far ahead — the Gulf of Nodens awaited, patient as eternity.

Session Notes

  • Opening scene on the Dreamlands Express:

    • The train’s cabins are lavish and shift to match each passenger’s memories; items appear that the investigators did not physically bring (e.g., Claire’s tools, Arthur’s uniform, Walter’s Bible).
    • The train continually reshapes itself (cars appear/disappear). The front is for fire and labor; the rear is for cats; the middle holds luxury and illusion.
    • A bathhouse car features steam and waterfalls.

  • Engine/tender investigation (despite Henri’s encouragement to remain in passenger cars):

    • In the tender, barbed, winged demons carve flesh from a living beast to feed the engine.
    • Walter raises his Bible in defiance.
    • Claire, overcome by terror, attacks with a wrench; the demons flee skyward into the engine.
    • Claire seizes a crossbow and fires, but sees two porcelain-masked stokers (one smiling, one frowning) pantomiming and mocking her.
    • Henri appears, calm, minimizing concerns; however, the floor is slick with blood and the train is visibly feeding on itself.

  • Ladies’ parlor:

    • Viola takes tea with Madame Bruja among sugared cakes and softly burbling fountains.
    • A black kitten named Blackjack laps cream; Henri collects it and whispers to the cat in a language unknown to humans.

  • Dinner is announced; fine clothes are laid out for the travelers.

    • Unease lingers: Arthur bears war memories; Claire is frayed from earlier events; Walter stands firm in faith; Viola continues pondering the kitten.
    • The group gathers at the banquet table. Henri manages the seating but allows changes if insisted upon.
    • Known fellow passengers at dinner: Mackenzie (“Mac”), an older Scottish gentleman; Karakov, previously seen disrobing in the bath; Madame Bruja (previously reserved except with Sutcliffe).

  • Dinner menu and drinks (as presented/served):

    • Courses: cream of turtle soup; grilled elephant pads stuffed with truffles and sweetbreads; spit-roasted pheasant, quail, and partridge; boar’s head à la mode; fruits, nuts, and spices from Siddarthian groves; sauces suited to every palate.

    • Drinks:

      • “Pearls from wave-washed metal dissolved in the vinegar of Thrace” (served as a sweet–tart beverage akin to a shrub; pearls melt in the vinegar).
      • Wines of several exotic regions: a chartreuse (identified as akin to the Carthusian monks’ herbal liqueur), sparkling wine from Implan (champagne-like), a red wine from the Carthian Hills, a white from Mount Aran, and Zug Moontree wine (kept in a gourd pitcher with a stopper and served later).

  • Mechanics note added by the Keeper (in-session action affecting play):

    • Investigators add the Dream Lore skill (starting value: half of each character’s Cthulhu Mythos, rounded down).

  • Mental health status clarification for Claire:

    • Claire’s earlier “bout of madness” has ended, but she remains under an ongoing insanity condition until treated (loss exceeded one-fifth of max SAN in a day).
    • A phobia is selected: demonophobia (fear of demons). While insane, seeing demons would trigger SAN loss and could precipitate another bout.

  • Dinner conversation and observations:

    • Arthur chats with Mac. Mac says the Dreamlands Express is not for repeated trips; one rides to the end to let something go.
    • Karakov recalls the conductor (Mr. Peters) saying that at journey’s end, when the train crosses the Gulf of Nodens, a dreamer may wake.
    • Toasts are made.

  • Spot Hidden at the table:

    • Claire succeeds and notices Madame Bruja giving a subtle, unselfconscious nod when “casting off burdens into the Gulf of Nodens” is mentioned.

  • On burdens and identity:

    • Arthur asks if casting off burdens would change who they are; Per replies that change is necessary for growth and that the “unburdening” seems like an unnatural shortcut (spoken in character).
    • Addressing Madame Bruja about her own intentions is deemed rude by her; Arthur apologizes.

  • Henri’s service and the kitchen:

    • Claire notices Henri always knows when to pour or clear, though no other waiters are visible.
    • The kitchen door occasionally opens by itself; trays and tureens float out without an attendant handing them over.
    • The kitchen is absolutely silent.

  • Clarifying the wines (as established during service):

    • The chartreuse is served as an aperitif.
    • Sparkling wine (Implan) accompanies roast birds.
    • Red (Carthian Hills) and white (Mount Aran) are available with appropriate courses.
    • Zug Moontree wine is reserved for the end of the meal.

  • The “pearls in vinegar of Thrace” drink:

    • Madame Bruja orders it directly; she appears familiar with it.

  • Thunderous booms and reactions:

    • Claire hears a loud, repeated booming from outside (like artillery). She makes a SAN check and keeps control.
    • Claire’s Heavy Machinery knowledge indicates the sound resembles large guns firing at close range.
    • No one else hears it, but Karakov is visibly shaken, slaps the table, and cries, “Guns!” He reacts to each boom as they fade.
    • Henri assures Karakov the train travels only through safe places; no harm can come aboard.
    • Discussion at the table connects Karakov’s distress to guilt.

  • Karakov’s background and conscience (as discussed at dinner):

    • Mac states that Karakov sells weapons to the highest bidder, regardless of nation.
    • Karakov argues that sellers are not at fault; warmongers are.
    • Walter suggests unburdening could help; Karakov, encouraged, toasts the idea.

  • On confession/absolution versus dream unburdening:

    • Walter remarks that confession in dreams likely does not substitute for confession in the waking world.

  • Black kitten incident during dinner:

    • Multiple investigators spot a small black kitten heading toward the kitchen door and slipping in when it opens “for no one.”
    • Arthur quietly alerts Henri. Henri retrieves the kitten, speaks gently to it, asks after its mother.
    • An adult black cat arrives, scruffs the kitten, and carries it off toward the rear (cats’ car).
    • Henri notes the cats are lovely passengers but not much for rules; assures they are well-fed.

  • Zug Moontree wine service and choices:

    • Henri sets out polished wooden cups and explains the wine brings a deep, peaceful sleep; he recommends it for those wishing to sleep until morning.
    • Viola partakes; the wine is pale, faintly glowing, and of medium viscosity. She makes a CON check and becomes drowsy but not unconscious.
    • Karakov declines and opts for cigar, brandy, and cards in the salon; he invites others.
    • Arthur plans to try the moon wine later.

  • Living vs dead status and memory after unburdening:

    • It emerges that Karakov and Mackenzie believe themselves to be alive.
    • Madame Bruja implies she died long ago and now dwells here; her attire suggests an older era.
    • Henri clarifies: after casting away a burden, knowledge of what was discarded remains, but the feelings (regret, sorrow) are gone.

  • Post-dinner activities:

    • Karakov proceeds to the men’s salon for cards.
    • Madame Bruja retires to read in the parlor.
    • Per checks in with Claire (as psychotherapist) and also joins for cards; Claire plans to play cards.

  • Henri tutors each investigator (individually) in Dreamlands manifestation:

    • To unburden at the Gulf, a burden must be given a physical form (ideally small/simple).
    • Exercise: imagine a familiar small item in the palm—weight, texture, color—until it manifests. Each investigator succeeds on this first, simple manifestation.
    • Henri notes larger manifestations are possible with concentration and time; only the living can truly dream.
    • Per asks for matches; Henri explains matches are not available here, though tobacco and tapers/flames in the cars are accessible.

  • Dream-conjured items and rooftop diversion:

    • Arthur conjures a toy cricket bat.
    • Mackenzie conjures a golf club and ball; Henri suggests the roof/palanquin area as a comfortable place to drive balls.
    • On the roof under bright moonlight, the ride is perfectly smooth; Arthur and Mackenzie drive golf balls while the countryside streams by.

  • War conversation between Arthur and Mackenzie on the roof (with a dreamed drink):

    • Mackenzie asks about Arthur’s service; Arthur confirms World War I with machine guns and mustard gas as defining horrors.

    • Mackenzie served since the Boer War; in the Great War he worked more in intelligence—moving unseen and transferring information—until recent retirement (details remain classified).

    • They share a drink: Arthur attempts to dream a flask of scotch.

      • Mechanics: the Dreaming skill is introduced (value = one-fifth POW). Arthur narrowly fails his Dreaming roll but spends 2 Magic Points (1 MP normally for a small item; an extra MP allowed to “bridge” the failure per the Keeper’s on-the-spot guidance) to produce a flask with scotch. Magic points recover at ~1 per hour.

    • They exchange sardonic remarks about the League of Nations and the future, then drink.

  • Zug Moontree wine effects on Viola:

    • Viola remains drowsy but wakeable after her earlier cup (confirmed by CON success).

  • Cards with Karakov; questions answered:

    • Per asks if Karakov knew he was coming to this train before boarding in the waking world.
    • Karakov did not; he simply felt drawn when the platform in Ulthar called to him.
    • Karakov rides westward from Constantinople (on a different Orient Express train than the investigators, who are on the Simplon line). The line runs multiple trains.
    • Per (Psychology, extreme success) discerns that Karakov, initially dubious about unburdening, is now genuinely enthusiastic or at least very hopeful about it.

  • On dreaming within the Dreamlands and sleep:

    • Henri explains that dreaming is particular to the living; the implication is that one does not “dream again” while already in the Dreamlands as the waking do.
    • Henri hints that expectations (like needing sleep) might be alterable here.
    • At midnight, Arthur requests Zug Moontree wine; he makes a CON check, grows calm (brandy’s buzz mellowed), feels relaxed with the option to sleep but is not compelled.

  • Arrival at the next stop:

    • The outside landscape comes into clearer relief; clocks aboard show midnight.
    • The train stops at a black basalt platform in a dark, spired city smelling of the sea (ocean not visible on the inland side).
    • A small group of men and women waits on the platform, wearing fine, light robes and skirts with golden embroidery and jewelry—fashions unfamiliar to the 20th-century eye.
    • The conductor announces the city as Delathleen.
    • Session concludes upon arrival in Delathleen.