Unconscious Collective dream messages

You find yourself standing in a wicker basket, on the roof of a towering skyscraper. Thorny brambles cover the ground, and eerie jazz music swirls around you. King Ralph approaches you, and looks at you with burning hatred.

"The owls are not what they seem. (player name). Where is my telephone?"

"I don't understand," you reply.

"The owls are not what they seem."

You think you can hear someone crying far away as you begin to fall into darkness, and then you are in a lush grassy field, in the middle of a trackless desert wasteland. Before you, in a scintillating pool of light beside a long-lost grand piano, rests a decaying staff. As you reach out to touch it, you put it in your pocket, and carved stone faces gaze impassively at you everywhere you look. You run away in a panic as whispering voices and hushed laughter surround you, though you see no one.

And then, the scenery twists and melts around you and a bright light pierces the gloom. You wake up shivering.