The year is 1495 DR, the year of the turned page. The flying fortress city of Thultanthar, a shade enclave and remnant of the ancient fallen Netherese Empire, had come to reclaim their lands now known as the Anauroch Desert. The shades of Thultanthar wreaked unimaginable terrors upon Faerûn until the city was at last destroyed, crashing back into the Anauroch Desert following the events of the Second Sundering eight years ago....
In the wake of this triumph, catastrophe once again prevailed. Lingering Netheril magic flowed chaotically through the desert, making it nigh on impossible for outsiders to venture into its depths. A mighty legion of gnolls called the Sunbleeder Covenant united under the Blood Dune Pact, a feat made possible in the aftermath. They took the fallen fortress for their own and converted what was left of the city's wreckage into a grand arena, drawing the attention of the desert dwelling tribes of orcs known as the Thraz-Zul....
After several years of fighting, the gnolls and Thraz-Zul reached an understanding. Together they conquered the desert and its neighboring territories, turned the arena into a bustling slave hub where they put captives to work, and pitted the strongest among them against one another. This blood fest has become an integral piece of their puzzled alliance, and a ritual campaign glorifying the deity Yeenoghu, known as The Bloodletting....
"Let them now feast for the glory of Yeenoghu!" A gnoll dressed in shamanic robes stitched together from the scalps of foes called out with upraised hands. He wore a headdress of bones, necklaces of teeth and tongues, and held a staff decorated in shrunken heads and skulls. A similarly decorated Thraz-Zul orc twice its height shared the honorary pulvinar, offering them the greatest view of the Bloodletting.
Orcs down below obeyed the shaman's commands, cranking open heavy doors into the arena. Gnolls then released a pack of hyenas that swept through the large fighting pit, feeding on the flesh of the dead and dying alike. "Yeenoghu!" The shaman screeched for all to hear. "Bless these beasts, and bless the Sunbleeder Covenant! For your glory!" Every gnoll within earshot joined in a ritualistic chant, worshiping the deity as the feral hyenas fed, for they'd soon bring new gnolls into the world and bolster the covenant's numbers.
Such was the way of the despicable creatures, and such was the way of the Blood Dune Pact. Their numbers had already grown exponentially since the forgery of the alliance with the Thraz-Zul, tribes that had turned away from Gruumsh in the years following the demise of the Kingdom of Many-Arrows. Now they achieved orcish glory through conquest for the Blood Dune Pact, conquests that would likely still bring Gruumsh much joy. However, it is thanks to Yeenoghu that the Thraz-Zul can now defy death, being 'reborn' as a new breed of gnoll when they fall in battle. Mutually assured destruction had never been so disgustingly beautiful.
Down below amidst the feeding frenzy, several hyenas hungrily circled the survivors. "Back off!" A survivor named Danek barked at them. "Not dead yet!"
An orc beside him laughed. "Yet!" It cackled. "Your luck will soon end, boy!"
"Maybe, but you'll be long dead first, you overgrown pig!" Danek snapped in retort. He wasn't known for thinking before he spoke.
The smug look upon Danek's face fell away as the orc lifted him by his ankle, and dangled him upside down near the snapping maws of the hyenas. "Ufthak has always hated you. You're lucky we've never met in battle, teeny maggot!"
"Release him!" Another survivor named Remus intervened, readying his weapon while remaining mindful of the hyenas.
The orc threw Danek at his fellow gladiator, and together they collapsed into a pile of flailing limbs. The hyenas pounced the moment they hit the ground, canines biting into flesh. The men cried out in pain as they recovered, swinging their weapons at the rabid beasts, but then the hyenas were ushered away to await their transformations.
Later that evening, the two young men were reunited with some of their fellow slaves. "So?" Someone asked the duo. "Are we ready?"
"Tonight's the night!" Danek answered with unwavering confidence.
"We're finally getting out of here." Remus added. "After seven long years."
"You were mere children then," an older man chimed in. "Who knew those two little idiot scavengers would make it this far? Especially amidst the chaos at the time."
"Who knew orcs and gnolls would end up joining forces?" Another man added. "May have been easier back then..."
"Maybe," Danek retorted, "but now you've got two seasoned gladiators instead of two idiot children." He winked at his friends, trying to lighten the mood, but reality was settling on them. Tonight they'd attempt their escape.
"I like those odds better." The older man replied in a tone much more appropriate to their circumstances.
Later that night as the moon reached its zenith, the four men and several others made their courageous escape. They'd planned meticulously for weeks, down to every minute detail. Some expected to return with heroes to free the rest, but most of them never wanted to step foot in the cursed desert ever again. Danek hadn't yet made up his mind, and Remus was like his brother... Danek knew if one of them chose to return, the other would surely have their back.
They didn't even make it a mile outside the compound. One second they were home free, the next they were surrounded by a dozen orcs, and a handful of gnolls and hyenas. It was a blood bath. The gnolls watched in glee as the orcs tore them apart. Danek, Remus, and their friend Eleanor were the last ones standing, but they had no way to defend themselves.
"Ufthak takes great pleasure in this." The brute from before cooed as he stalked toward them, a thirsty glow in his eyes. "Now you watch, boy!" Ufthak grabbed Eleanor's face and popped her skull like it was child's play, her limp body falling at his feet.
"No!" Remus cried, a blind rage taking over. He charged the grinning orc.
"Remus!" Danek cried in defeat. "Stop!" But it was too late. Ufthak swung his large mace and sent his friend flying many yards away. He was dead on impact. "Remus! No!" Danek collapsed to his knees and waited for the end.
Already, the hyenas feasted upon his dead friends. Snickering and howls of laughter erupted all around Danek. The last thing he saw before accepting his fate and closing his eyes was Ufthak coming for him, but then a great tremble shook the sand beneath their feet.
A dune seemed to be growing beneath them in real time, sand flowing away from the gruesome scene like water. The hyenas yelped and took off, some dragging their gnoll handlers. Several of the orcs lost their footing and collapsed into the sand. They sank into it, trying desperately to 'swim' back to the surface. Danek could hear Ufthak's roars of defiance... he could hear the rupturing of stone deep within Toril.
Then the dune exploded in a thunderous roar, erupting like a raging volcano, sand and stone spewing forth in arcs as a giant creature burst through the surface. Danek went tumbling past its face and plummeted back toward Toril. The creature's body was long and serpentine, a double crest of spines down the length of its back.
As quickly as it had appeared, Danek's world went black, clenched eyes burning from the sand. He felt the rush of the brown dragon's body beside him as he fell through a cloud of sand and debris. He could hear its majestic, guttural roar grow distant as he continued to fall. He could hear his heart thumping against his chest cavity. He could hear the whoosh of sand engulfing him, and he heard the grains grinding in his ears as the cloud grew thicker and thicker all around him.
Then came the stone.
Danek hit the broken jagged rocks of Toril as he hit the solid underbelly of the desert, rolled and tumbled from stone to stone, and his descent began to slow. Then darkness took him.
The sound of heavy groaning woke him. A strange light emanating from somewhere nearby illuminated his surroundings just enough for his eyes to adjust in a timely manner. A haggard cough escaped his lips as he tried to get up, and he sprayed the stone beneath him with a spatter of blood. His body was on fire with pain and he could barely move. The groaning he'd heard grew into a nasty growl, and then something grabbed his feet.
"You will die!" Ufthak snarled as he pulled Danek toward him.
Danek reached for anything he could to grab hold of, his arms flailing wildly as his body dragged across the hard stone. He rolled over and saw that the Thraz-Zul was mostly buried beneath sand and debris, trying desperately to break free. There! His hand slid against loose jagged stone, his fingers slicing open as they curled around the object, and at the last possible second he swung his arm in desperation. Ufthak's brains made a wet squishy sound as Danek impaled his skull with the makeshift weapon.
He must've lied there for many, many minutes, though it felt like hours, before he managed to pull himself to his feet. Where was he? With no other paths before him, Danek ventured deeper into the mysterious place.
Though he couldn't read it, he recognized the ancient Netheril language etched into the walls as he explored. Wherever he was, it had to be thousands of years old. It was a desolate place, mostly rubble, but something there was intact... something felt... alive.
Danek must've explored the ancient subterranean ruins for hours before discovering a large, wide open chamber. Faint glyphlight pulses surrounded him, revealing buried obsidian walls marked with ancient Netherese runes. The gladiator, wounded and cornered, stumbled deeper into the chamber. Blood dripped from open wounds as he staggered onward, intrigued and confused... lost.
What was left of the otherworldly chamber seemed dome-like. At the center was a circular formation of pedestals or small monoliths, the one at its center standing out like a sore thumb. A hum of energy thrummed around him, and the ground began vibrating beneath his feet. When he looked down he saw his blood running through a shattered silver inlay shaped like the sigil of Mystril.
"What is this?" Danek asked aloud, as if something might answer.
The central monolith peeled back, unfurling like burned coiling skin until it was smooth once more. From within, a platform rose until it sat flush. Atop the platform sat an artifact unlike anything he'd ever seen or heard of. It was a spherical construct, its insides full of other complex shapes. His blood flowed up the structure holding the artifact. "Uh oh..." Danek groaned. "This can't be good." As his blood touched the base of the artifact, glyphs ignited all along its circumference, spiraling like a sunburst as the different pieces began to spin.
⟦WEAVE ANCHOR DETECTED⟧ A strange voice broke the silence, echoing throughout the chamber. ⟦SEEKER... FOUND. THREAD INITIATING.⟧
The air thickened—no, folded. Magic surged, not like spellfire, but like presence—a mind, distant and boundless, brushing against his own. For the briefest of moments, Danek felt as if he were floating among the stars, along a tapestry of cosmic energy. Then he was back in the chamber, his hand extended toward the artifact of its own accord.
You are not Arcanist Vaelrun, the voice said coldly, matter-of-factly, in an unsettling and inhuman way.
"No..." Danek gulped, expecting the worst. "I'm not-" He felt his hand slide through the artifact's openings like a glove. It clasped onto his hand, the pieces slithering and unfolding across his flesh, but it didn't hurt. It was warm and inviting.
...Yet the Weave remembers you.
"The Weave? As in Mystra?" Danek gawked. "Remembers... what?" The artifact pulsated and extended beyond his hand, continuing to unravel. Danek watched as it weaved itself into a new shape before him. A humanoid frame, nine feet tall, knelt in stillness, a thin chain of magic tethered from its chest to his hand. Filigree veins of blue-silver ran through its plated limbs, like frozen lightning trapped in steel flesh. Its head, helm-like, bore a lattice crown of rune-script: angular, flowing... alive.
Yes, it's Mystra now, isn't it? The voice, now coming from the construct's own mouth, asked rhetorically. I feel the truth of it.
Danek was at a loss for words. He felt as if he were dreaming. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? "... how?" Was all he managed to mutter in response.
This one is a prototype fashioned from a Weave-bound Exarch by the Netherese Empire.
Danek had no idea what he just heard, but the construct didn't need to be asked... it could see his thoughts.
THALIX is a magitech construct that draws directly from the raw weave, using a spark of... Mystra's essence as its interface. THALIX is neither Mystra nor the Weave, yet, neither is it the absence of either. It manifests its data via the Weave... its thoughts are channeled through a sliver of Mystra's essence... complete once more.
Danek furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of it. Had the Netheril Empire built a magical device that was somehow directly tied to the goddess of magic? He was in awe, but still very confused. He'd heard their feats were ambitious, but this was borderline insane... was it possible? Did Mystra allow this? Did she have a choice? And what kind of name was that? "You're THALIX?" He asked.
Threaded Host for Autonomous Linkage to Integrated Xeon-weave, a conscious-magic interface with a user's nervous system, telepathically linked to the Weave. It is powered by a miniature, semi-stable mythallar core. Brace yourself.
"Brace for-" Danek screamed as the suit moved on its own, the magic tether shrinking as it latched onto his body in arcs of white fire. Plates unfolded like petals, enclosing his limbs, spine, skull. Each lock pulsed with searing light, and he felt his consciousness expanding, unfurling into the weave, and it welcomed him.
⟦HOST ACCEPTED. THREAD SECURED. CONDUIT OPEN.⟧
Danek felt invincible. Unstoppable. A second heartbeat surged in his chest—one not his own. Then the suit stood... with him inside it. The weave decorated him as it decorated the ether, its arcane potential at his fingertips, and he knew then without a sliver of doubt: his friends would be avenged. It was time to eradicate the Blood Dune Pact once and for all.
WE ARE THALIX.
"I'm still not sure how I feel about that name though..." Danek retorted light-heartedly. "Is there another name? Something more... majestic? Intimidating maybe?"
The creator dabbled with the designation, The Vesper Titan.
"Now that's more like it." Danek said smirking. "Ready to have some fun?"
In the wake of this triumph, catastrophe once again prevailed. Lingering Netheril magic flowed chaotically through the desert, making it nigh on impossible for outsiders to venture into its depths. A mighty legion of gnolls called the Sunbleeder Covenant united under the Blood Dune Pact, a feat made possible in the aftermath. They took the fallen fortress for their own and converted what was left of the city's wreckage into a grand arena, drawing the attention of the desert dwelling tribes of orcs known as the Thraz-Zul....
After several years of fighting, the gnolls and Thraz-Zul reached an understanding. Together they conquered the desert and its neighboring territories, turned the arena into a bustling slave hub where they put captives to work, and pitted the strongest among them against one another. This blood fest has become an integral piece of their puzzled alliance, and a ritual campaign glorifying the deity Yeenoghu, known as The Bloodletting....
"Let them now feast for the glory of Yeenoghu!" A gnoll dressed in shamanic robes stitched together from the scalps of foes called out with upraised hands. He wore a headdress of bones, necklaces of teeth and tongues, and held a staff decorated in shrunken heads and skulls. A similarly decorated Thraz-Zul orc twice its height shared the honorary pulvinar, offering them the greatest view of the Bloodletting.
Orcs down below obeyed the shaman's commands, cranking open heavy doors into the arena. Gnolls then released a pack of hyenas that swept through the large fighting pit, feeding on the flesh of the dead and dying alike. "Yeenoghu!" The shaman screeched for all to hear. "Bless these beasts, and bless the Sunbleeder Covenant! For your glory!" Every gnoll within earshot joined in a ritualistic chant, worshiping the deity as the feral hyenas fed, for they'd soon bring new gnolls into the world and bolster the covenant's numbers.
Such was the way of the despicable creatures, and such was the way of the Blood Dune Pact. Their numbers had already grown exponentially since the forgery of the alliance with the Thraz-Zul, tribes that had turned away from Gruumsh in the years following the demise of the Kingdom of Many-Arrows. Now they achieved orcish glory through conquest for the Blood Dune Pact, conquests that would likely still bring Gruumsh much joy. However, it is thanks to Yeenoghu that the Thraz-Zul can now defy death, being 'reborn' as a new breed of gnoll when they fall in battle. Mutually assured destruction had never been so disgustingly beautiful.
Down below amidst the feeding frenzy, several hyenas hungrily circled the survivors. "Back off!" A survivor named Danek barked at them. "Not dead yet!"
An orc beside him laughed. "Yet!" It cackled. "Your luck will soon end, boy!"
"Maybe, but you'll be long dead first, you overgrown pig!" Danek snapped in retort. He wasn't known for thinking before he spoke.
The smug look upon Danek's face fell away as the orc lifted him by his ankle, and dangled him upside down near the snapping maws of the hyenas. "Ufthak has always hated you. You're lucky we've never met in battle, teeny maggot!"
"Release him!" Another survivor named Remus intervened, readying his weapon while remaining mindful of the hyenas.
The orc threw Danek at his fellow gladiator, and together they collapsed into a pile of flailing limbs. The hyenas pounced the moment they hit the ground, canines biting into flesh. The men cried out in pain as they recovered, swinging their weapons at the rabid beasts, but then the hyenas were ushered away to await their transformations.
Later that evening, the two young men were reunited with some of their fellow slaves. "So?" Someone asked the duo. "Are we ready?"
"Tonight's the night!" Danek answered with unwavering confidence.
"We're finally getting out of here." Remus added. "After seven long years."
"You were mere children then," an older man chimed in. "Who knew those two little idiot scavengers would make it this far? Especially amidst the chaos at the time."
"Who knew orcs and gnolls would end up joining forces?" Another man added. "May have been easier back then..."
"Maybe," Danek retorted, "but now you've got two seasoned gladiators instead of two idiot children." He winked at his friends, trying to lighten the mood, but reality was settling on them. Tonight they'd attempt their escape.
"I like those odds better." The older man replied in a tone much more appropriate to their circumstances.
Later that night as the moon reached its zenith, the four men and several others made their courageous escape. They'd planned meticulously for weeks, down to every minute detail. Some expected to return with heroes to free the rest, but most of them never wanted to step foot in the cursed desert ever again. Danek hadn't yet made up his mind, and Remus was like his brother... Danek knew if one of them chose to return, the other would surely have their back.
They didn't even make it a mile outside the compound. One second they were home free, the next they were surrounded by a dozen orcs, and a handful of gnolls and hyenas. It was a blood bath. The gnolls watched in glee as the orcs tore them apart. Danek, Remus, and their friend Eleanor were the last ones standing, but they had no way to defend themselves.
"Ufthak takes great pleasure in this." The brute from before cooed as he stalked toward them, a thirsty glow in his eyes. "Now you watch, boy!" Ufthak grabbed Eleanor's face and popped her skull like it was child's play, her limp body falling at his feet.
"No!" Remus cried, a blind rage taking over. He charged the grinning orc.
"Remus!" Danek cried in defeat. "Stop!" But it was too late. Ufthak swung his large mace and sent his friend flying many yards away. He was dead on impact. "Remus! No!" Danek collapsed to his knees and waited for the end.
Already, the hyenas feasted upon his dead friends. Snickering and howls of laughter erupted all around Danek. The last thing he saw before accepting his fate and closing his eyes was Ufthak coming for him, but then a great tremble shook the sand beneath their feet.
A dune seemed to be growing beneath them in real time, sand flowing away from the gruesome scene like water. The hyenas yelped and took off, some dragging their gnoll handlers. Several of the orcs lost their footing and collapsed into the sand. They sank into it, trying desperately to 'swim' back to the surface. Danek could hear Ufthak's roars of defiance... he could hear the rupturing of stone deep within Toril.
Then the dune exploded in a thunderous roar, erupting like a raging volcano, sand and stone spewing forth in arcs as a giant creature burst through the surface. Danek went tumbling past its face and plummeted back toward Toril. The creature's body was long and serpentine, a double crest of spines down the length of its back.
As quickly as it had appeared, Danek's world went black, clenched eyes burning from the sand. He felt the rush of the brown dragon's body beside him as he fell through a cloud of sand and debris. He could hear its majestic, guttural roar grow distant as he continued to fall. He could hear his heart thumping against his chest cavity. He could hear the whoosh of sand engulfing him, and he heard the grains grinding in his ears as the cloud grew thicker and thicker all around him.
Then came the stone.
Danek hit the broken jagged rocks of Toril as he hit the solid underbelly of the desert, rolled and tumbled from stone to stone, and his descent began to slow. Then darkness took him.
The sound of heavy groaning woke him. A strange light emanating from somewhere nearby illuminated his surroundings just enough for his eyes to adjust in a timely manner. A haggard cough escaped his lips as he tried to get up, and he sprayed the stone beneath him with a spatter of blood. His body was on fire with pain and he could barely move. The groaning he'd heard grew into a nasty growl, and then something grabbed his feet.
"You will die!" Ufthak snarled as he pulled Danek toward him.
Danek reached for anything he could to grab hold of, his arms flailing wildly as his body dragged across the hard stone. He rolled over and saw that the Thraz-Zul was mostly buried beneath sand and debris, trying desperately to break free. There! His hand slid against loose jagged stone, his fingers slicing open as they curled around the object, and at the last possible second he swung his arm in desperation. Ufthak's brains made a wet squishy sound as Danek impaled his skull with the makeshift weapon.
He must've lied there for many, many minutes, though it felt like hours, before he managed to pull himself to his feet. Where was he? With no other paths before him, Danek ventured deeper into the mysterious place.
Though he couldn't read it, he recognized the ancient Netheril language etched into the walls as he explored. Wherever he was, it had to be thousands of years old. It was a desolate place, mostly rubble, but something there was intact... something felt... alive.
Danek must've explored the ancient subterranean ruins for hours before discovering a large, wide open chamber. Faint glyphlight pulses surrounded him, revealing buried obsidian walls marked with ancient Netherese runes. The gladiator, wounded and cornered, stumbled deeper into the chamber. Blood dripped from open wounds as he staggered onward, intrigued and confused... lost.
What was left of the otherworldly chamber seemed dome-like. At the center was a circular formation of pedestals or small monoliths, the one at its center standing out like a sore thumb. A hum of energy thrummed around him, and the ground began vibrating beneath his feet. When he looked down he saw his blood running through a shattered silver inlay shaped like the sigil of Mystril.
"What is this?" Danek asked aloud, as if something might answer.
The central monolith peeled back, unfurling like burned coiling skin until it was smooth once more. From within, a platform rose until it sat flush. Atop the platform sat an artifact unlike anything he'd ever seen or heard of. It was a spherical construct, its insides full of other complex shapes. His blood flowed up the structure holding the artifact. "Uh oh..." Danek groaned. "This can't be good." As his blood touched the base of the artifact, glyphs ignited all along its circumference, spiraling like a sunburst as the different pieces began to spin.
⟦WEAVE ANCHOR DETECTED⟧ A strange voice broke the silence, echoing throughout the chamber. ⟦SEEKER... FOUND. THREAD INITIATING.⟧
The air thickened—no, folded. Magic surged, not like spellfire, but like presence—a mind, distant and boundless, brushing against his own. For the briefest of moments, Danek felt as if he were floating among the stars, along a tapestry of cosmic energy. Then he was back in the chamber, his hand extended toward the artifact of its own accord.
You are not Arcanist Vaelrun, the voice said coldly, matter-of-factly, in an unsettling and inhuman way.
"No..." Danek gulped, expecting the worst. "I'm not-" He felt his hand slide through the artifact's openings like a glove. It clasped onto his hand, the pieces slithering and unfolding across his flesh, but it didn't hurt. It was warm and inviting.
...Yet the Weave remembers you.
"The Weave? As in Mystra?" Danek gawked. "Remembers... what?" The artifact pulsated and extended beyond his hand, continuing to unravel. Danek watched as it weaved itself into a new shape before him. A humanoid frame, nine feet tall, knelt in stillness, a thin chain of magic tethered from its chest to his hand. Filigree veins of blue-silver ran through its plated limbs, like frozen lightning trapped in steel flesh. Its head, helm-like, bore a lattice crown of rune-script: angular, flowing... alive.
Yes, it's Mystra now, isn't it? The voice, now coming from the construct's own mouth, asked rhetorically. I feel the truth of it.
Danek was at a loss for words. He felt as if he were dreaming. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? "... how?" Was all he managed to mutter in response.
This one is a prototype fashioned from a Weave-bound Exarch by the Netherese Empire.
Danek had no idea what he just heard, but the construct didn't need to be asked... it could see his thoughts.
THALIX is a magitech construct that draws directly from the raw weave, using a spark of... Mystra's essence as its interface. THALIX is neither Mystra nor the Weave, yet, neither is it the absence of either. It manifests its data via the Weave... its thoughts are channeled through a sliver of Mystra's essence... complete once more.
Danek furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of it. Had the Netheril Empire built a magical device that was somehow directly tied to the goddess of magic? He was in awe, but still very confused. He'd heard their feats were ambitious, but this was borderline insane... was it possible? Did Mystra allow this? Did she have a choice? And what kind of name was that? "You're THALIX?" He asked.
Threaded Host for Autonomous Linkage to Integrated Xeon-weave, a conscious-magic interface with a user's nervous system, telepathically linked to the Weave. It is powered by a miniature, semi-stable mythallar core. Brace yourself.
"Brace for-" Danek screamed as the suit moved on its own, the magic tether shrinking as it latched onto his body in arcs of white fire. Plates unfolded like petals, enclosing his limbs, spine, skull. Each lock pulsed with searing light, and he felt his consciousness expanding, unfurling into the weave, and it welcomed him.
⟦HOST ACCEPTED. THREAD SECURED. CONDUIT OPEN.⟧
Danek felt invincible. Unstoppable. A second heartbeat surged in his chest—one not his own. Then the suit stood... with him inside it. The weave decorated him as it decorated the ether, its arcane potential at his fingertips, and he knew then without a sliver of doubt: his friends would be avenged. It was time to eradicate the Blood Dune Pact once and for all.
WE ARE THALIX.
"I'm still not sure how I feel about that name though..." Danek retorted light-heartedly. "Is there another name? Something more... majestic? Intimidating maybe?"
The creator dabbled with the designation, The Vesper Titan.
"Now that's more like it." Danek said smirking. "Ready to have some fun?"
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