The emaciated fighter clutched at Brother Eik's robes. "We've delved dungeons together, Eik. I've seen you stitch up wounds in an instant. Please, Eik, I'm dying."
Eik sighed. "I will see what I can do, Thrazgrod." He clutched the many-fingered sun on its chain around his neck and began to chant the ritual of cleansing. The amulet glowed azure as the gods granted his request.
Thrazgrod's face became blissful and serene for a brief moment, then twisted in agony. "What-?" he gasped, his life fading.
"Most of you isn't actually you, you know. At least now you will die pure."
---
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