CaBaNa: Hob spends a point of Hope.
Looking at the dancing marsh lights, he's reminded of a poem he heard once:
Flit, flit, with the hurrying hours,
In shadow and mist and dew
Will-o'-the-Wisp, O Will-o'-the-Wisp,
I would I could follow you,
With your elfin light for a lantern bright
The...