A voice…..
A song…..
"Through the trevail of Ages,
It’s the pomp and toils of war
Have I fought and stroved and perished
Countless times upon the storm.
As if through a glass and darkly,
The age old strife I see,
Where I fought in many guises, many names
But always me."
The song ends, and the visions begin…..
Through the Light, dim can be seen a face with a crooked nose…..
Switch to Dark, switch to Trollsbane…..
Where streets run red with blood,
and the image of a different man, fire in his hair….

The first Man comes in….
He eats the latter!
~Sweating, Father Thyme awakens from his troubled slumber, panting.~
“What does it mean?”
~Very troubled, The next day, he tries to tell of his wild vision to some people in the Tavern in the hopes of an answer.~