You whisper the words precisely as you remember them, and suddenly the room around you stirs. The dirt leaps from the floor, and the leaves spin upward in small spirals at the command of your voice. Lurk is moving too, in your direction, and quite quickly. His body slams into yours and the two of you tumble to the floor.

You look up at the filthy man mounting you and watch him smile crookedly at your accomplishment. The pride you feel at having mastered the words whose meaning have plagued you for so long somehow compensates for the award physical position you find yourself in.

"This is wonderful!" you exclaim, bouncing up from the floor. "I always knew I was destined for something more than, more than ... mining beets!"

Splint claps slowly and walks toward you with a proud smile. "Yes, Turtleborn. You are important. Far more than you even now may realize."

Your smile fades for an expression of earnest determination. "Tell me what I must do," you say. "I want to know more about my destiny."

"And there is much that we may teach you," he says. "But first, you must seek out an important artifact, the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. The horn lies in Ustengrav, a terrible place filled with--"

"Never heard of it," you reply quickly, hoping to steer the course of this conversation from the dangerous direction it seems suddenly heading toward. "So tell me about this--"

"Turtleborn!" the man calls in a booming voice. "Do this, and you may know more! Do this not, and so shall doom fall upon these tranquil lands!"

Do this! To Ustengrav!

Do this not! To the tavern!

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