lucid

A certainly amazing dream, with an very close rate of lucidity.
I was travelling through dangerous territory. I am not sure if the place I was at had dangerous people specifically, or if it was a post-apocalyptic scenario like movie ‘The Road’, but I managed to begin in a deep sewer/dungeon area, trying my best to fend off monsters and deviant creatures for pure survival. At some point in the whole mess, I was attempting to help a cat across a series of large rocks sticking out of the water. I finally reach a basement section with a chandelier, and a long case of steps which lead upward in an L shape (first pointing East, then pointing North). Upon climbing, I come across an abandoned mansion, which I very closely inspect to make sure there were no creatures or danger. This mansion was well worn, and I ventured out among its courtyards and outdoor, which was a misty, rugged place which reminded me of New Zealand or Ireland.
At this time, I felt the urge to let down my guard finally, since I was now out of the monster mess, and now in a place that I could survive. I began to spend time each day fixing up the mansion and inspecting its rooms and its outdoor storage shed. Thing began to become a bit more civilized, while for the most part alone.
Except I wasn’t alone,…
One morning, I began hearing noise of struggle and some women and children screaming. I look a gander outside to notice that there was a brigade of armed and armored medieval foot soldiers (approx. 20) outside, standing to the South of the mansion, with some remaining survivors trying to get away. Some of the foot soldiers were actively chasing them, while most of them were slowly approaching the mansion in wonder of who was there. They did not seem like the friendly type,… or at least, I profound distrust of strangers led me to believe them as evil.
They started entering the mansion, as I navigated to a hiding place inside of a closet. I waited for a lone soldier to come by the room, a more tubby-looking one, before I leaped out with a makeshift club of some kind, and battered him in the head until he was knocked out. I took his weapon, a rusty scimitar, and began scouring the house, attempting to kill off whoever was inspecting the house. I managed to slay two of the soldiers, before retreating to the basement once again. Perhaps it could have been monster territory, but I was properly armed this time. I noticed, however, that even more soldiers seemed to be occupying the dungeons now, as if they had wiped out the monsters and began for the mansion. I fended them off, killing each one before burrowing deeper into the dungeon, it seemed the layout of the dungeon had changed, and I was now no longer near any sewer, but purely in a place infested by foot soldiers. At one point, I began fighting a very skilled foot soldier with a large sword. I had to do plenty of parrying with my rusty scimitar before I managed to strike him and down him, slitting his throat. I took the large sword and scurried into the shadows again.
Each time I killed someone in this dream, I became more involved in the dream, and yet, almost as a moralistic response, I felt immediately guilty for killing, but I was filled with this odd complex each time of ‘I’ve already gone this far. Besides,… I’m pretty sure this is a dream’. I wasn’t 100% certain it was a dream however, which prompted more episodes of guilt here and there.
I managed to enter a more populated area of soldiers, and decided to play off my chances mingling among them, not drawing any attention to the fact that I had killed their kin 3 rooms away. Hopefully, they would simply let me pass off as one of them since I had a sword on me. I entered a small room with a table and chairs, and a resting soldier. This soldier was unarmed, and taking a rest from his duties. Suddenly, I noticed an officer, a black man in a suit of armor, with one lackey following him, enter the room. He had a scar over his right eye and a nasty look on his face. He started judging me, wondering where I came from, and threatening me with violence if I didn’t answer correctly. In a flash, I took me sword, and slit his throat. It took a moment before his throat began bleeding, and as his lackey was coming to help him, I slit his throat too. They both barreled to the ground. The moralistic urge was intense now, and I began to feel lucidity really push its way in response. I knew at that moment that this was a dream.
Suddenly, a soldier with a large shield and long sword entered the room in response to the death call by the officer, and I started trying to fend him off as best I could. His shield, oddly enough, seemed like a cardboard cutout, and tore easily. The soldier tried to explain that it was a prototype, before I callously slit his throat. … The whole time throughout the dungeon, I began assembling pieces of armor and smaller weapons, trying to increase my power. I finally met a combatant I could not beat, who was wearing a greenish armor which looked like Scorpion/Sub-Zero, and had a glaive. I felt into the main meeting hall of the soldiers and started savagely fending them off. At this point the king of the soldier was present, but I was losing clarity of the dream. The only remaining vision I had left was the leader of the foot soldiers, who looked a hell of a lot like Drew Carrey, telling me how great a job I had done, that I had bested some of his best and brightest and proved myself as a warrior. I knew he was motioning toward the idea of employing me, but before that notion came to fruition, I awoke.