[Public]

I've had a good number of people travel with me over the years. One of them was a young man named Hex. He was a brilliant lad, a nurse, who joined us and at first was astounded and amazed at every wondrous thing I presented before him. The space ships. The alien worlds. Travelling to his own distant past.

But then he met Cromwell, and it was Cromwell who started him down the path to being broken. He'd taken quite a shine to Ace, who many of you met. And when he thought he'd lost her, he did terrible things in her name. They haunted him, later. A healer, suddenly burdened with the loss of lives that circumstantially or not, he led to.

Things became worse. He was held for interrogation as a murder suspect. He was brainwashed at a military installation. Occurrence after occurrence, gradually damning him until that was all he could see rather than any of the good he'd done. I still regretted it when he left. Selfishly, too, because I was frustrated I wanted to show him so much wonder and all I did was show him the value of death.

Thus far, I've been burnt alive, shot, stabbed, mentally violated, and caught a plague while aboard this ship. ...Doesn't seem like all that much in the grand scheme of things, now that I look at all the ways I've managed to die in the past.

[Filtered to magical warden people that probably have experience with potions]

Speaking of being stabbed. There's a particularly dangerous potion on board that prompted an inmate to attack me in the infirmary. If I were to provide a list of ingredients and tell you the observed symptoms, panic being a primary one, I was wondering if at the very least a potion could be made to lessen or counter the effects.

[Private to Mozenrath]

I have a question to ask. You're a necromancer, correct?

[Private to Narvin]

I'm ready to organize our meeting with Arthas. I swear on Pythia's pantaloons if you so much as switch a single neuron that oughtn't to be touched, I'll make you drop your trousers in front of him.

[YEAH! HOW'S THAT FOR A THREAT!]