![]() They were saviors, of sorts, and not just adventurers seeking excitement and loot. It became clear to Torben just how important the role of the five was in this world. Torben’s vision then changed to the Temple of the Arcane, where the five and Geralt now stood with Illidan, who in another life consorted with demons but now held off their invasion. Their inspiring leadership was to give new hope to the Kengi – to open free lands to the Kengi for their new homeland. Back in Fallcrest where his body lay, Torben’s eyes welled up with tears as he witnessed the good deeds of the five. Z’alden walked the charred and smokey landscape healing the wounded and giving aid to whomever he could. Still, he saw the five act with compassion. Was he dead? Was this the out-of-body experience that some had told of? Torben became alarmed for he now thought that his mind may have left his body. So vivid was this dream! The wreckage that was Kengistan was laid out before him and Torben knew this to be real for word of the devastation had already spread. First they would have to go to Kengistan. He could see and hear the adventures talking with a man named Geralt about riding to the Northlands. With these visions passing through his mind, Torben lost track of time and gave himself over. Where were the Elysian Fields of green fed by cool blue streams? Rift was summoning horses via a magic ritual. Where was the bright light? Torben thought he could hear this Tasedar giving instructions for the five to fight the demons. Where was the tunnel? Tasedar was instructing the heroes. Was he dreaming? A vision of the five filled his thoughts, with the one whom they called Tasedar. Bright red was pouring out of his belly, with the blade still held firmly in place. Now the pain became quite real and as an involuntary scream came surging from his throat, the three half-orcs held him up on his feet and dragged him deeper into the shadows of the alley. Funny, there was no malice in the eyes of that man-orc. He looked up from the fist that held the blade and into the eyes of the half-orc holding the instrument of death. Now the adrenaline kicked in and everything moved in slow motion. At first the extremely sharp blade didn’t hurt, but Torben knew that it soon would as he had experienced so many paper cuts in his life, being a writer. The sight of this was clearly visible to Torben as his eyes had been cast down. The tip of the weapon was plunged deeply and directly into Torben’s abdomen. The leader produced a rapier from under his cloak and in but a few quick strides drew close to Torben. Their hood hid their face, but Torben did not notice for he walked past with eyes down at his feet and mind still deep in thoughts about the five. His eyes followed Torben and then shifted to a slender, motionless figure who stood across the street. The rest of his hunched form and hands lay hidden in the shadows. The right side of leader’s face was visible in the moonlight – the left side in dark shadow. The half-orcs who had been waiting for him were still waiting for him, but this time in the shadows of an alleyway. With stories of the five swirling through his head Torben staggered out into the cold night air. Their stories grew and grew, and were so big now he knew not where to take them. For so long now he had written about the adventurers and he was short on ideas and coins. Torben Eastlander smiled at the hostess as he laid some coins upon the table to pay for his meal, but his mind was in turmoil.
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