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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rystil Arden" data-source="post: 2879265" data-attributes="member: 29014">*A voice that sounds like his own, but far more sinister speaks to him.*"Wake up to the real world, you fool.  Awake from this idle dream,"*Vanitri tries to orient himself, perhaps to follow one of the winsome lasses, but he finds that now he can barely move.  His muscles have shriveled away and his body weakened to the point he can barely hold himself up.  And suddenly, the nymphette-filled forest melts away and reveals a tiny drab gray room with bars on the window like a prison, and a seemingly-insurmountable stack of books before him on the table.*"You are so weak...dreaming of a life like that.  But you gave that up long ago.  Now look at yourself!" *Another Vanitri walks out from behind the stack of books.  This Vanitri is buffly well-muscled and physically perfect, much moreso than Vanitri ever was.  His perfect white smile is belied by the cruel look in his eyes.*"Why don't you take a look at what you have become."*He offers up a mirror, and looking within, Vanitri finds that he has become a sickly and enfeebled shell of his former self, wearing thick glasses and arthritically unable to bend his joints like he used to.  Even though he is still the same age, he has become as frail as a venerable old man.*"You gave up your freedom.  You aren't worthy to be called a Freefolk," the other Vanitri draws his swords, "Why don't you just die here and surrender yourself to me?  I am everything you ever wanted to be, and I can bring you your desires."*Some of the girls rematerialise and head over to the other Vanitri, pointedly ignoring the real Vanitri, simpering and cooing in his arms as he runs his hands along them.*</blockquote>

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