“ A fragment of letter drifts down to the street. You catch it, and unfold the charred edges.
'...know I will always lov..
..at never dies. It is th...
..f my passion that b...
...nd it cannot be ext..
....n heaven or....n hel..
....ill be by you...ide an...
......
...... yours foreve.........
... Mendates ........
...................................'
Looking up from the fragmented text you glance around at the rooftops. There. A minute snowfall of scraps of letters is cascading from the chimney of a half-timbered house nearby.”
“ Basq doesn't exist. He occupies a point in space--a single X,Y,Z point in the Cartesian plane, but he's not made of anything. People looking at him see whatever they want to see. Or what he wants you to see. Usually a mix. Just the same, he cannot be hurt swords or arrows. Only things that deal damage to an area (fireballs, gases) can damage him. Or weapons that can cut through an infinitely small point.”
“ Real World: some Indians in the Amazon treat their eyes with a traditional potion applied with palm leaves. Brutally painful, the drug alters vision, giving the jungle's dense green walls greater texture and dimension. You could adapt this to desert or swamps, or other hard to navigate regions.”
