Go wash your brain out.

They called him Soap.

He had another name, once, a human name. Along with a wife, three kids and a farm not far from Stratholme. But if you asked him his wife's name, or how old his children had been, or his own actual name, he'd probably just give you a blank look. And then declare his name was Soap and anything else before then was all just silliness anyway.

So the name stuck, no matter how nonsensical it was. After all, he was a good mage and could toss a mean fireball when instructed to. Sometimes, you just had to remind him who he was actually throwing a spell at. Sometimes.

Soap found himself recruited into the armies of the Frostwolf Clan, through some machination he really couldn't remember if he thought about it. Or it gave him a headache to think too much. Miriam always told him he was dead and really couldn't get headaches anymore. But it hurt like one, so surely it was one. So she gave him potions on occasion that made it stop hurting so much. Strangely, they tasted a lot like water. But Miriam swore by them, and they worked just fine.

She was a good lady, Miriam was. Always looking out for him. Now, she had a way for him to repay her a little bit. A portal, and perhaps an escort for a poor paladin lad with a bad leg and a fever. Perhaps a headache, much like the ones that always bothered him. Soap couldn't help but be sympathetic to that.

But, try as he might, there wasn't much chance for opening a portal, not with all the snow swirling around and something just blocking him from casting it. It'd have to wait until after the snow lifted, or something like that.

Miriam sighed, "I don't think he'll last much longer. Well, Soap, would you like to help me take him out of here then, we can go to Tarren Mill. It isn't far from the valley."

He didn't even think this time, that might hurt a bit if he did, "Of course my dear, of course. Oh, and Miriam..."

"Yes?"

"Did you make sure to give him some of that fine potion of yours? The one that works for me? Just in case he, you know, has a headache too."

She chuckled, amused. "I already have, Soap, don't you worry about that."

Ravenin rolled his eyes at the entire conversation. Or would have, if he had eyes in his sockets to roll. Instead, the glow of his eyes drifted upwards. "Well, I suppose that means the 23 we started out with is now 20. Admintaru has asked to go with, to carry the bloody paladin. Best go now, before the snow lets up. Otherwise you're bound to have fifty alliance crawling over you like ants."

Taking the warning to heart, the band of four set out immediately.