((There is no stopping the wheels of time. The oceans will erode away at the earth, stars will wink out of existence as their hydrogen and helium hearts burn out, and death will claim us. To rail against that fact is futile. There is no stopping the inevitable. One man, however, has existed for over three millennia and continues to stand unbent, unbowed, and unbroken against the heavens that seek to smother his fire. Or so the legends say, but whoever can live for over 3,000 years must surely have gone mad to see friends, family, loved ones, and even whole nations disappear within the annals of time. Now you're in the infirmary, recovering from your lost hand that was used as payment to an underground gambling ring.))

A man with wild black hair speckled with blonde, a white overcoat, black blazer, and a golden monocle that doubled as a timepiece stopped into the infirmary to question you about the gambling ring. A quick exchange of information including the location of the gambling den along with names earns you a curt nod and a firm hand on your shoulder. — Envision your hand when it was attached to your arm. Hold that point in time firmly in your mind. Before waiting for your answer, the man's timepiece begins to spin in the reverse direction. Golden sand and light illuminates the stump where your hand was, and before your eyes... it has regrown. Without giving you a moment to celebrate or say anything, he begins to speak with an expeditious manner. — Name's Lars Blackwillow. Yes, that was time magic. No, I don't want payment or your thanks. Yes, I'm a part of the "Good" Dark Magic party. Satisfied?