When the necklace suddenly deposited Jacques in Falconreach, he actually cried out in amazement. It seemed so long since he'd seen so many people, and the setting was heartwrenchingly familiar. Though the town was clearly not as wealthy as the fiefs that his family had ruled, it took him back 400 years, to his youth. He heard the sound of a ship's bell and turned to see a port on the distant coast, down the gentle slope from the town. Several carracks bobbed at their anchorage. It suddenly occurred to him that he could stay. The carracks were not so different from the galleons of the 17th century that he couldn't buy and command one, and he would be able to settle into medieval society again as though he had never left it. But something stopped him. Some sense of deeply buried honour, that shouted down his privateer ideals to say that as long as his new friends hunted the man that had killed a world, he couldn't abandon them. Cursing, he wrapped his hand around the pendant, and reappeared with a flash in front of Etna.