Sunshine streamed in through skylights. Ror was sitting at the edge of a brook amidst leafy green plants. Cross-legged and with his eyes closed, the elf was meditating.
A bar. Phil's. Conversational tatters.
"...I am not the only one apparently..."
- "...No... no, you are not...."
- "...a file on me, probably from the TriPower..."
"... back from life?"
- "...It cuts me off...I have no memories....Something keeps sending me back...."
The bracelet. So peculiar.
- "...awareness... must persist after death."
The image of Thasmudyan flickered in and out of existence, his mouth moving, but what was he saying?
- "Ever since I can remember.... hazy..."
The image flickered again.
- "...a daughter of mine is in danger..."
Sanria's voice, "Thasmudyan doesn't want you raising his daughter."
"Rrrrrorrrrr-rrr."
The voice changed, and had an edge to it, an edge that wanted to kill.
"Thasmudyan's other lover...Concieved Nioma the day Lyvinnia was concieved."
A tavern. Ror saw himself sipping from tea.
"Lloth still awaits you after death?"
Two voices.
- "... A lot to do with it. Almost everything...I betrayed her... Before this guise..."
Market Square. Ror was talking to Rahvin and Maezura.
"And there you have it, Master Surion. In a nutshell, we seek to prolong death as long as possible..."
The world twisted away again.
- "...To learn the lifestram I presume. My daughter.... Able to tap right in."
Thasmudyan.
- "It's ...complicated, yes."
"I'll ask no more."
- "Thanks for that."
The angry yelling.
"...better stay the HELL AWAY from LYVINNIA!'
It was sinister.
"...Closer than anyone...To perminant death...Real death, everlasting death..."
Ror's eyes opened. Meditation was over. Placing his hand in support on the grass in front of him, he swore under his own breath,
"Shit."
