In a remote oasis in sandy Naïx, three lost travelers gathered: an itinerant dwarf, a nomadic desert elf, and an orc follower of the Hamurabash. While awaiting rescue, they took to comparing their philosophies to pass the time.

“Look at that stone there,” said the elf. “The Eternal Way of my people tells us that every stone can become a mountain if it improves itself.”

“Nonsense,” the orc said. “The Hamurabash is about what is, not what was or what might be. The rock only matters inasmuch as it is remembered, celebrated.”

They both turned to the dwarf, who had remained silent. “What say you, then, of this stone?” asked the elf.

“Surely your dwarvish dualism has some keen insight,” the orc added.

In response, the dwarf took up his sword and sundered the stone with a single blow.

“There is your dualism for you,” he growled. “The stone was there, and now it is not.”

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