Duckfoot’s Dream

In the dead of night, Duckfoot the orc was ensnared in a nightmare. His dreams twisted into a surreal realm where everything was composed of dissonant, jagged, and imperfect shapes..

Within this nightmarish landscape, the orc himself began to transform. His body contorted and fractured into irregular and chaotic forms, a rejection of divine order. Each step he took sent ripples of discord through the very fabric of his being, a living nightmare of imperfection.

The surroundings were a maze of distorted and chaotic geometry, where impossible shapes and dimensions shifted unpredictably. The ground beneath the Duckfoot’s feet seemed to rise and fall like a turbulent sea, making every movement an arduous struggle.

Above him, the heavens opened, and a colossal, obsidian geometric figure, cast an imposing perfect shadow over the orc. A perfect harmonious voice now resonated with thunderous dissonance, scolding the orc for his defiance and derision of perfect form.

As cyclopean form extended his angular limbs and Duckfoot was surrounded by a cacophony of harsh angles and disordered lines, a living nightmare of asymmetry and chaos. The very essence of imperfect wrath manifested in every twisted corner of this surreal dreamscape.

The nightmare felt eternal, an unending torment of disarray and confusion. When the first rays of dawn finally broke, Duckfoot was released from the dream, leaving him trembling and gasping for breath, craving rigidity and order.