It has been years. The oppressive and torturous captivity has taken a great toll on the mind of man once called Wiseman. He remembers laughing with his Tribe and his family. He remembers a Great and Powerful man, his King. Where was his King? Why didn't his King come for him? Why didn't his King free him from the torture and pain? Was his King dead?

"Am I dead?"

No, not dead, as he looks up at the Moons and Stars.....His magical powers reawaken within him. His magic has changed. He feels the pull of the mana from Katamba the strongest.

He reaches out and sees the scars and brands of years on his arms and hands. He runs his hands over his face and feels the deep gouges, where the knife and lash had carved his flesh from his body, over and over and over again. He remembers them cutting and peeling the flesh from his fingers like the skin from a banana, as he screamed in pain. Then the unholy healing, the rot and putrid smells, that he lived with for the countless years.

All, the pain and torture, the questions about the past, the people, the Tribe, the Baron, the King, the Vault.......

Then...it all just stopped. And here he is. Awake, in a field...staring at the Moons..his Moons.

He sits up and slowly, he remembers his former life.

"My name is Jappal." He says as he stumbles towards the lights of a nearby town. "My name is Jappal, and my life will be mine again."