This strange city was a far cry from the familiar surroundings of Baldur's Gate, or in fact any place in Faerûn that Malchior had ever been in. Well, maybe that was a lie- there were some similarities, but not enough for him to feel any sort of comfort- he'd been able to navigate somewhat ⎛ mostly with Raven's help- truly, the tressym had been his saving grace after he'd fallen into such misery ⎠ - the locals found him handsome and charming, he had caught a fair amount of people looking his way, and wasn't that nostalgic?

He and Rorek had been rather well liked back in Baldur's Gate. And speaking of Rorek ...

Brown hair with a gentle wave. The garb of a wizard- Malchior's heart skips a beat and he snatches Raven up from the spot she'd chosen for a quick nap ⎛ much to her chagrin- ⎠ and the tressym lets out a startled meow as she's squeezed a little too tightly.

Numbly, Malchior loosens his grip and allows her to land beside him as he simply stares at the man before him. Upon closer inspection, the man is most certainly not Rorek, but ... perhaps in another lifetime ...

He sees himself growing old with the wizard at his side. They spend their youth exploring Faerûn, considering following the path of the city's founder- deciding against it in favor of simply settling down, because they've earned it. Rorek is older, but no less handsome, and Malchior's white hair doesn't look so out of place for his age. Two tressyms are curled up by a warm hearth- In another life, they're happy.

The vision fades and he's faced again with the situation at hand. Raven looks up at him with no small amount of concern, and Malchior realizes that he's crying. ❝ Sorry- I ... ❞

How was he supposed to explain this one?