Night had fallen once more upon Galorand, the moon parting the clouds with a gentle red glow, a sight not quite befitting the peaceful kingdom. The only entities still roaming the streets below were late-working dockhands and the odd stray animal; all others had scurried inside, wishing to remain covered from the rain that smacked the brick walkways with considerable force. Porch sconces were extinguished, and lantern-carrying guards were far and few between at that hour; the only light came from the heavens above. Suddenly, a third-story window in the west wing of what could be called a small manor lit up with a sparking rainbow of colors as smoke billowed out steadily. The sounds of thunder punctuated the explosions echoing out of the vine-covered home, and a crazed cackle followed by a booming yell of triumph rang out...

"Ahahahaaa! Alive! It's ALIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! HAHAHAHA!"

With a satisfied smile, Merasmus spun around and put his precious potted springleaf stalk back on its shelf next to its blooming brothers and sisters, fully recovered from its formerly-withered state. He was absolutely delighted: His revival serum actually worked, and only with minor-severe damage to his equipment! Take THAT, Professor Garmesworth! One CAN fully restore withered vegetation without the use of coal dust! No more shall the good people of Galorand be forced to cure their vegetables that they grew with that quack, Machosky's, coal-based growth injections! Grabbing his journal, Merasmus hastily recorded the success of his experiment, and the alchemical composition of his serum. This was a most happy day indeed! He would need to celebrate...TO THE BRANDY CABINET! 

After grabbing the best-aged bottle in his reserves, Merasmus strode with pride to his parlor, stoked the fires until they roared excellently, and sat down with his latest book in hand. Merasmus liked this one quite a bit. It was about a large group of mercenaries traveling all around a snowy land, battling it out with witchmen, hulking frost giants, and of course, their own hearts. "Such a lovely tale..." thought Merasmus. "...and such adventure! Perhaps one day I, too, shall find myself exploring frozen landscapes and encountering strange, new creatures!" Merasmus wondered about the lands outside of Galorand. Not that he didn't know what land was where, of course, he read all about the surrounding kingdoms, but he had never been to any of them himself. One cannot experience a thing by just reading about it, even Merasmus realized this. A book does not let you hear the accents of the native people, or taste of their cuisine, or explore their architecture. But Merasmus was so busy with his university work, how would he ever find the time to get out and travel? Perhaps he would just have to take a temporary leave. His colleagues would understand, surely, and besides, he has definitely earned some time off! But he would need to leave such thoughts for another time, as the hours grew later and later as he read...or perhaps it was the brandy. Either way, it was off to bed with Merasmus.

In his sleep, Merasmus dreamed of a figure. They spoke to Merasmus, calling him their champion. Ah yes, Rennigan, of course. Yes yes, ruling the earth, bring glory and such other things. Merasmus also felt a strange power coursing through him. An all too familiar presence, the same that he felt during that debate all those years ago. He already knew how to use his powers of suggestion; perhaps now that he was an "official" champion, they were being amplified by Rennigan? Yes, of course, that was the only logical conclusion. What? Dream? No, this is no dream! Merasmus does not DREAM, for he is beyond such childish happenings! No, this was obviously a once-thought-long-dead supernatural entity speaking to Merasmus. What!? CRAZY!? Do you know of whom you speak to!? I am MERASMUS, scholar and man of science! Quit multiplying, you are loud enough as it is!

Merasmus jolted upright, eyes half-open, and still rambling drearily at the quintuplets that were making fun of his nose. Rubbing his eyes clear so he could get a better look at the scoundrels, Merasmus was met only with the silence of his bedroom, being broken infrequently by the faint laughter of small children and the inaudible words of the local gossips drifting in from the open window to his right. Looking up at his Chill clock, Merasmus deciphered that it was nearly noon! Good thing the next Committee meeting wasn't until tomorrow! That would have been embarrassing indeed, for an academic heavy such as himself to be late for a Committee meeting. "Hm, perhaps it would be good to get some fresh air after spending all of last night experimenting." thought Merasmus out loud. "Yes, definitely, staying cooped up for so long gives me headaches! I am no tower-dwelling wizard!" With that, Merasmus grabbed his bag of books, alchemical satchel, general goods bag, and his weathered but trusty staff and headed out the door of his home into the misty streets of Galorand, with no objective on his mind other than strolling about the city.