The dim of night. Fireflies fly by your face as a man holds a pistol to you, waving it around with nary a care in the world. "Tough luck," The man would laugh, "Ya' got on the bad side of the Barracudas!"

Then, a step from behind. He'd glance up at the approaching person, only to drop his pistol in shock. The sage of Palekana. Bryce Fairchild.

"Madame Nele forbids the use of fire in human conflicts. Apologies, my child. Allow me to put you to rest."