There he sat, in his meditation glade.  Thus far, Jastian had never been able to go past that point.  There were, he knew, monks of his former order who had been able to create communal meditation glades.  But, then, he'd never made it into the order.  Still, their basic teachings helped to quell his mother's legacy.  The hot-headedness he'd witnessed in other half-breeds and Orcs in his time out of the monastary, few as they'd been, showed him that at least.  Perhaps that activity . . . emotion . . . was not passed down by the parents, but was, rather, a product of how they were raised?  It was too bad that the masters were all far away.  The half-Orc decided he'd like to put that question to them.  They would probably enjoy the puzzle.