The saga continues

He wished for dreamless sleep. This was the type of dreaming that made your very bones twitch, but told that you were unable to run from the terror that was pursuing you. What was this place, he could smell in this dream, taste the ash that fell, and his eyes watered from the sulpher. What was this? A tree that had leaves of fire, not on fire, but made of fire. A sun set in the distance, not even illuminating the vast valley that laid out before him. This place was actually built with and by fire! As his eyes stung, a wind filled with sand and stone beat against him and swept him to another vision. This was another place, of fire, yet filled with destruction, and the roar of suffering. He choked on noxious fumes of tar, and oil. He saw beasts draped in cloth that looked at him with a piercing evil. Even from a distance, these creatures groaned like, like and animal? No, not an animal, a machine! Glowing eyes, a grimace of life! How could this thing exist? His very soul was vexed at the site. Even the evil was masked with great suffering.
Then the entire vision faded and the warm glow of a green place, full of life, and a statue, more like a abstract form with no definition that sat in this ancient grove, untouched by humans. He saw only a glimpse, the way you catch something in the corner of your eye that distracts you, the statue opened its eyes.
He felt pain, a repeated pain. In the side of his temple, it felt like a large bat being thrust in a poking motion repeatedly. It had a loud annoyed voice attached to each thud.

"MUDGOBLIN!!!!" Crusty dried mud clung to his eyelids, he imagined his face looked like a dried lake bed. The sun had baked him into an odd shaped piece of human pottery. The annoyed gruff voice of an old woman groweld and raged. "You! Mud Goblin! Off!" He now recognised the the item he was being attacked with, it was a broomstick, and now he was being beaten with then broom part.