"How is he? Will my son ever recover from the bugs that turned his brain to mush?"
The doctor pointed to where the thirty-seven year old was playing with toys on the floor. "It's been five years now and he has the brain of a child, give it another five and we can start the basics of teaching him magic again. He knows who you are but...but he will never have the same personality again, and by the time he regains all his magic skills at their former levels he will be in his sixties."
And in the name of the great and powerful I command thee to return to your body, hearth and soul, so that you might walk again and continue in the gods plans.
See that. . . wait. . . what!?! NO! I knew it was too risky here. You have brought ruin to us all. Why you ask? Ready your weapon, a traveler has come.
-Father Hayden, performing a ritual on the deceased outside the protection of the church.
The characters are wandering through the bustling crowds of Lasopolis. A street conjuror is performing a simple summoning spell, something for the kiddies. A bit of odious purple powder in the fire, an incantation and out pops a saak-lizard or a muhmentarsh, writhing from the flaming brazier. But the conjuror has only a poor grasp of the arcane magical tongue. A few stuttered syllables could lead to Other Things coming through the brazier and giving the crowd more entertainment than they had paid for...