[h3]Freagon, Yanin, Jaelnec and Jordan – Outside the Fadewatcher station, Borstown[/h3]
“Want the same?” Freagon repeated, scratching his deeply scarred skin thoughtfully. “I can't imagine that'd do them much good. They'd have to die first, and there aren't any benefits to it. On the contrary. I wasn't 'restored' so much as I was just 'made functional' when I was resurrected. You're right that the process was costly, both for me and the one who did it. It's why I'm still scarred like this.” He gestured to his one-eyed face. “New wounds can be healed, but even magic can't fix this anymore.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaelnec commented on Jordan's recounting of his time with his master, smiling at him even though he felt a slight pang of envy. He had a vague feeling that he had heard about the Galeids before, but could not quite pair the name with a place or a family in his mind. None of the names mentioned meant much to him either, except from Sir Yanin of course, but just hearing the names somehow made them feel more real. “You forget to appreciate having people around you can call friends. Sir Freagon...” Jaelnec shot a nervous glance in the direction of his master. “He's very goal-oriented, and has no patience for anything that isn't productive. I bet he's seething right now because we're not just going straight to the bandits. Part of me is surprised he hasn't just decided to wipe them out himself and run off on his own.”