You sit in a small hut, in front of the elder. A wooden shrine to sain is in the back; about two feet tall, it shows him, tall and lean, with a goblet in his right hand in front of him, and an ornate dagger behing his back, a jolly look in his eyes. Not that you can see any of it; the herbs the elder burns in his bowls are making your eyes hurt so bad you can't even see him, and the fumes are making you very, very lightheaded.... and you're outside, around a fire, drinking a goblet of wine and dancing as you slit a young girl's throat, on a slab in front of the fire, while the tribe cheers... and you're sprawled across the slab yourself, and now she is holding the dagger and screaming... and then she is Sain. You've only seen the woodcuts until now, and in person it's all so clear... and familiar... he is tall, at least seven feet, very muscular and lean. His face is long, and handsome, and just looking at it you can tell he has a very, very deep voice. His hair is a dark red, long, down to his thighs, and he only wears a girdle with some straps of black cloth to cover himself. He holds the dagger, approaches you, and chuckles in a voice even deeper than you expected. "I supppose you think there's a point? Not really, old friend. I doubt there ver will be. He look down at the dagger, and his face lights up. "Then again, I suppose you'll get a point one way or another." With that, he hands you the dagger, and without thinking you plunge it into your heart...
.......
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and you wake up, with a splitting headache to boot. In front of you is a bag filled with rations, enough for about 2 weeks of travel, and several waterskins.