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the howling creatures of dark night cease their calls momentarily, as the last blue flickers of hot mana drench the already sweat-stained worg-skin rug that has been lovingly laid out to spare your tender back from the stinging brambles.
"Well", I say, "it's late and I should log-out. thanks for a good time".
I pass my hand over the well-worn grooves of my hearthstone and disappear in a rain of slowly falling leaves.
The moment is quickly lost, as a stranger's voice whispers to you, "can I haf sum guld 4 traneing lol?"
Promethea has signed off.
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