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[Kilena]

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Norrec was sitting atop Poet's tavern, enjoying a good pipe weed, when he head a man introduce himself at a far away table. "My name is LeDaviren sir" The man said speaking to another. Norrec eyes went wide with fear and anxiety, he dared not turn around and look at the man.

Could it be? LeDaviren, the name of his father, the man he hadn't seen in over 15 years, suddenly at Poets this night? Norrec began to perspire and look around the room nervously, he felt dizzy, the room was spinning out of control he couldn't breathe. He quickly stood up and left the tavern, teleporting back to the safety of the room we was renting from an old friend. He blinked once as he looked in the mirror, and though he saw someone, someone other than him. His eyes rolled back into his head as he fell to the floor.

He dreamed, he dreamed of memories long forgotten. He was young, only four or five maybe, sitting on a cold stone floor crying as the maid picked him up then covered him with concealing clothes. She hurried him out of the cellar through a trick door. He remembers glancing back to see his father on the balcony, laughing maniacly as the village peasants rampaged at his home with torches and pitch forks.

Norrec awoke, cold and clamy, laying on the floor of a hut somwhere, he didn't know. He stood up and looked outside and figured he was near Skara Brae. He went to rub his eyes when he noticed his hands were covered in blood, quickly he looked around and saw a dead body of an old, unkept man, most likely a hermit. Norrec sighed, he didn't mind killing, but only if there profit involved, nor did he kill people he deemed as a regular peasant or poor person. With a shrug, Norrec went about cleaning up the blood and buried the body before returning home and falling asleep wondering what had happened.