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<blockquote data-quote="Rkhet" data-source="post: 2373759" data-attributes="member: 31318">Here's the background for Alosat.Background:It was a perfect spring day by the lake.&nbsp; The birds were singing, the sun shone down on the water, reflecting like silver.&nbsp; A young monk sat by the water's edge, staring off into the distance.Footsteps behind him.&nbsp; The voice of an old man.&nbsp; &quot;Alosat.&quot;&quot;Master.&quot;&quot;What are you thinking?&quot;Alosat scooped up a handful of water, and let it drip back down.&nbsp; It splashed and formed tiny ripples, pushing outwards.&quot;The water was in my hand.&nbsp; Where is it now?&quot;&quot;Only in your mind, perhaps.&quot;&quot;Where did we come from, master?&nbsp; Where are we going?&quot;&quot;From the void.&nbsp; And we shall go back where we came.&quot;&quot;If we came from the void and shall return to it, then why did we come?&nbsp; What is the point of happiness?&nbsp; Sadness?&nbsp; Anger?&nbsp; Boredom?&quot;The robed figure merely smiled and said nothing.A silence passed.&quot;Have you readied your thesis?&quot;&quot;No.&nbsp; My words are empty and without conviction.&nbsp; I can never describe the growth of a tree, the shape of a flower.&nbsp; I have but one question.&nbsp; You know what it is.&nbsp; Answer not with words.&quot;The robed figure picked up a flower.&nbsp; He smiled beautifically, and the whole world seemed to transform around him.&nbsp; The air filled with the fragrance of lilacs, and just below conscious hearing came a chorus of angelic voices.&nbsp; A shower of petals fell from the sky.Alosat watched on with hooded eyes, his face impassive.&nbsp; The petals that landed near him withered and died.The master sighed.&nbsp; The air shimmered for a moment, and things went back to the way they were.&quot;Go, then.&nbsp; I do not have what you seek.&quot;Alosat stood up and bowed.&nbsp; He left without a word.Alosat wandered the land for many years, then decades, centuries.&nbsp; He learned to bend the fabric of reality with but a thought.&nbsp; He learned to steal power from the gods.&nbsp; He learned to walk the path of the Protean, the power to do anything, become anything.&nbsp; But he never found what he sought.Or did he?When pressed for answers, Alosat, like his former master, would pick up a flower.&nbsp; An inaudible scream fills the air, and all plant life around him grows madly, flowering and bearing fruit in seconds.&nbsp; And then they die, leaving a circle of lifeless, desiccated husks.&quot;Life,&quot; he would say, &quot;is meaningless.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Rkhet, post: 2373759, member: 31318"] Here's the background for Alosat. Background: It was a perfect spring day by the lake. The birds were singing, the sun shone down on the water, reflecting like silver. A young monk sat by the water's edge, staring off into the distance. Footsteps behind him. The voice of an old man. "Alosat." "Master." "What are you thinking?" Alosat scooped up a handful of water, and let it drip back down. It splashed and formed tiny ripples, pushing outwards. "The water was in my hand. Where is it now?" "Only in your mind, perhaps." "Where did we come from, master? Where are we going?" "From the void. And we shall go back where we came." "If we came from the void and shall return to it, then why did we come? What is the point of happiness? Sadness? Anger? Boredom?" The robed figure merely smiled and said nothing. A silence passed. "Have you readied your thesis?" "No. My words are empty and without conviction. I can never describe the growth of a tree, the shape of a flower. I have but one question. You know what it is. Answer not with words." The robed figure picked up a flower. He smiled beautifically, and the whole world seemed to transform around him. The air filled with the fragrance of lilacs, and just below conscious hearing came a chorus of angelic voices. A shower of petals fell from the sky. Alosat watched on with hooded eyes, his face impassive. The petals that landed near him withered and died. The master sighed. The air shimmered for a moment, and things went back to the way they were. "Go, then. I do not have what you seek." Alosat stood up and bowed. He left without a word. Alosat wandered the land for many years, then decades, centuries. He learned to bend the fabric of reality with but a thought. He learned to steal power from the gods. He learned to walk the path of the Protean, the power to do anything, become anything. But he never found what he sought. Or did he? When pressed for answers, Alosat, like his former master, would pick up a flower. An inaudible scream fills the air, and all plant life around him grows madly, flowering and bearing fruit in seconds. And then they die, leaving a circle of lifeless, desiccated husks. "Life," he would say, "is meaningless." [/QUOTE]

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