RP:Of Morals and Mortals

From HollowWiki

Summary: Linn comes to the (presumably private) temple to Vakmatharas in the Nameless Desert to put away some objects of power, only to find Revan pulling from his thoughts. While the enchanter does not make the connection between the undead and the figure that gave him the rose, the two discussed Linn's involvement at the temple and his other beliefs.

Shrine to Vakmatharas the Supreme God of Death

Linn entered the temple to Vakmatharas in the nameless desert heavy of step with a sullen look on his face, the sound of metal on stone echoing through the interior. With a sigh he unshouldered his pack and let it drop to the ground, glancing around to the shrine and the many extinguished or burned out candles around it, to the pile of jumbled fermin bones shoveled up in a corner, and to his old ‘master’s skeletal companions who were sitting cross-legged, facing each other in what looked like an attempt at three-way rock-paper-scissors. One of them looked up at the enchanter who had begun rummaging through his pack before speaking lowly to the others “’ey look, it’s that one lad”, short silence before a clattering of bone burst from them. “That could mean anyone ya dilt!” “The shiny one! She don’t keep anyone else around, you know that!” Another clatter as another skeletal palm met skull before they all went silent, turning towards the armored man who had retrieved something. Still wrapped in its cloth it could have been taken for the bare blade of a dagger, or a stick. Linn approached the back wall before nodding to the stooges. “One of you want to take this back to her? I have no more use for it.” They all looked at him silently with perpetually blank expressions for a few seconds before shaking their heads dis-synchronously. Linn only sighed before tracing his palm against the wall, stopping to knock at one point. It gave way to a door that he entered and left shortly after, whatever object he held now absent. He returned to his pack, ignoring any further interaction with the skeletons as he was lost in his own thoughts. Once again he began searching through it, digging down deep he pulled out the red rose he had been given so long ago, his eyes widening at the discovery; he had just about forgotten about its existence, where it came from, his questions about its existence… With a sigh he kept going, eventually pulling another wrap of leather from inside. He made his way to the altar, unwrapping the leather around the blackened mana crystal which had become consumed by the void within, and setting it next to that small silver-handled mirror that birthed it, an impenetrable inky black taking the place of what should be reflective glass. The rose, too, whether crumpled by its months in the bottom of his pack or mysteriously pristine, found its way to the altar beside the objects of death. Linn was left staring into the depths of the mirror after his business. Despite the function of its worldlier counterpart, there was nothing to look at besides the darkness within, but he didn’t seem to care, more focused on something in his own mind than the world about him. The skeletons continued to mutter among themselves, stealing glances at the enchanter and occasionally pointing before a quick slap and chitter among them ended the gestures.


It isn't clear if Revan had just arrived or if he'd been standing by all along but the undead lingers a few feet behind Linn with his arms crossed while peering over the enchanter's shoulder to examine the items he had laid out across the altar. The skeletons are ignored and though they greeted Linn they offered no such kindness to the deceased disciple, "Artifacts of ill-gotten gain or just functioning wardrobe options?" he asks in a rasp, gargling voice that is accompanied by a slew of maggots and bile falling from the hole in his throat while his 'skin' pulsated from other creatures feasting upon the flesh of the man. His red eyes landing upon the rose and staying there for a solid few seconds before breaking away to focus on his new found company.


Linn practically jumped as Revan's voice pulled him from his thoughts, reflexively taking a quick step to the side and turning to get a view of the undead before freezing, postured defensively. His eyes fixed hard on the undead's decaying form before his expression relaxed ever so slightly, though his body remained wound like a tight spring. The question brought a hesitant, confused blink. The beans were spilled enough by the arrangement in front of him and where it was in the world, so the decision to speak of it was already answered. "Neither. Simply things of other realms. Where they came from? Where they go?" He tilted his head, eyeing the undead suspiciously. "You've been there. How they came to this world? That's not for me to know." That suspicious look continued, trying to pick apart any identity Linn knew of this person. "And what do you mean, 'functioning wardrobe options?"


Revan hardly pays any mind to Linn's anxious and fearful attitude, the undead taking the opportunity of the enchanter's dodge to close his gap between the altar and himself to closer examine the items. "A bit odd to fear the dead in such a place, no?" he asks rhetorically as an idle hand springs to life to run a wrinkled and decaying index finger across the handle of the mirror and then a thumb to prick the thorn of the rose. "Items of beauty, child. While these artifacts may be unique they look no different from what a young woman of Cenril might carry in her purse." The creature turns his neck to face Linn again, the swirling red clouds in his eyes now a faint blue to help put the man at ease. "What business do you have in a place like this?"


Linn kept his gaze focused on Revan, allowing him to approach the altar. The form of the blackened crystal would be recognizable from the trial in which the rose was given, but the sharp violet edges were gone, the swirling void having left their confines to shift around them like a sleeping beast. "People don't like sudden obtrusions, living or dead." Sass aside, he was fairly receptive to the conversation, but when asked about why he was in the tample, he sighed. "Answers. Focus. Putting away a few things that have no more purpose with me." The shock began to fade from Linn, replaced by a marked look of sadness. "And those that will harm others where it is unwarranted."


Revan shifts his gaze between each of Linn's eyes as he explains his presence in the temple and allows a long string of silence before grinding his teeth with a few audible clicks then offering a short nod in understanding. "So I see..." the creature states as he turns to face the artifacts once more, "and what harm has come from the items you seek to remove?"


Linn simply shot Revan a hard look, one that seemed to be searching for a joke or a trick. "Death." he stated matter of factly before following with another labored sigh. "Death of those I care for, where it is not needed. Something like that..." his eyes flickered to the fuzzy black gem, the darkness identical to that in the silver-handled mirror. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It has no direction of its own. Without one, it will do far more damage than it would make things right. So it's here now."


Revan carries no sense of humor about him and the audible sigh of the human is met with a half snarl though it is of irritation and not aggression, the undead moving a few steps back before waving his hand out in front of him towards the altar - "Then by all means, proceed." The cracking voice provides no sign of emotion as Revan eventually moves further to watch from a distance while going about his own business in the temple, his rotting mind baffled that Linn would find death odd in an artifact of Vakmatharas.


Linn was left silently glancing back and forth between the altar and Revan, stepping forward to look down on the artifacts once more. Proceed with what? Presumably, -actually- sealing away the objects of death. The temple itself would have been sufficient, had this new undead not made his presence known here. Instead he was left silently staring, debating the actual efficacy of what he set out to do in the first place. Eventually his curiosity ate away the rest of his thoughts and got the best of him, bringing him to speak up again. “And just what are you doing here?”


The skin, or lack thereof, atop of Revan's crown would wrinkle as his attention is raised back to the enchanter, his creaking bones popping with the turn of his spine to face the man once more. "Vakmathras is the god of the dead, I am his servant. I tend to this temple when others do not." he admits after a moment of consideration followed by a quick glance to the skeletons.


Linn faintly nodded as he continued looking down at the artifacts. “There used to be another here, though she seems unwilling to do anything more as of late.” The words came sadly, even with a note of betrayal to them. The skeletal stooges against the wall began muttering among themselves at the mention of their master. “Did he ever talk about her?” “Not ‘at I ever knew of.” “Shhh!” Linn didn’t seem to hear the skeletons, dismissing whatever they said as he spoke again. “I’ve never seen you around here before. I suppose that’s why you’re here now. Or something like that.”


Revan offers a very human shrug in response to Linn's statement, the undead seemingly more intelligent than most of his race. "Though I tend to the temple, I do not make it the goal of my second life to live here. Believe it or not fresh flesh, the dead do make use of their time much like you do. Well, those of us who have a concept of time that is." The illusionist is unsettling to look at even though his conversation doesn't seem far off from your everyday citizen, his damn near perfect stillness is only countered by the bugs gnawing away at his rot above and below the surface. "What makes someone like you deal with the god of death anyway?"


Linn nodded in understanding as Revan explained the use of his time. "Neither have I. Just enough to keep things in order no?" He didn't seem to mind the conversation, though keeping his gaze averted from the undead likely helped him in focusing on the more living-esque aspects of what was going on. The answer of his purpose here came rather swiftly. "Because I've seen the results of violating death. And I don't mean creatures that appear as you do. You have a mind, you probably know why you're here. But from what I've seen, the dead typically don't appreciate their rest being disturbed. Violation of that... it leads to angry spirits, undead, whatever other forms they take... they're bound as slaves to those who raised them. Or without direction, they simply destroy until they are sent back. This work is necessary in ways. Both for us, and for them."


Revan shows an obvious display of disgust as Linn explains his 'knowledge' of the undead and their purpose, the creature offended by the shallow view of his kind even though in most cases Linn's assessment would be completely fair. "Don't assume so much stranger. The dead are often victims forsaken by those they once worshipped..." His eyes settle back upon the rose and mirror, "Why do you wish to be rid of them?"


Linn actually looked up after his statement, searching Revan for a reaction on his stance. Shallow, maybe, being rooted in only a few events, but getting another view straight from the horse's mouth was something he wanted to see. Another bout of silence followed at the undead's next question. "Some bring harm to the living. So, in a way, to protect ourselves. But also to undo the work of necromancers. From what I've seen of the dead, they can think and feel just as the living. Many violations come of necromancers due to that, with sometimes disastrous consequences." Keeping his gaze fixed on the undead he continued. "The others that worship here. They similarly see necromancy as an affront. Is it mere principle? Or that idea rooted in the consequences of what they do?"


Revan snorts a disgusting snort that causes more bodily fluid, or well solidish-fluid to erupt from his many holes as he shakes his head to the enchanter. "You ever stop to think that maybe it's the living doing harm to the dead? Necromancer's are nothing more than disgusting perverts flirting with powers they don't understand. I'm a firm believer in karma and I assure you the whole damn lot of them will get what they deserve. As for the servants of the death god who practice such disgusting art, he is their judge, not I."


Linn shrugged slightly at the irony Revan revealed in the conflict between the living and the dead, necromancers and the like. "I have. And in the simplest sense, I find the powers here to kill both birds with one stone." Almost literally. "The living typically don't enjoy the dead, and, well, I doubt the dead enjoy being here in the realm of the living either." He turned to the undead, expression looking for some confirmation or denial of the idea. "And then the necromancers screw it all up. Ending what they do is something anyone can do, but undoing the damage? This is...


Revan doesn't provide Linn with the satisfaction of seeing his appraisal instead opting to return to a completely neutral state, the creature feeling as though he had already wasted enough time entertaining the enchanter with his conversation. Moving to the alter he reaches out to take the rose in a free hand and twirls it between his fingers while his nostrils flair to sniff at the scent. "What's so special about a flower that you feel the need to lay it upon our lord's altar?" Revan already knew the answer, the power of Vakmathras' will emitted from the rose like the foul stench of roadkill but he was curious as to how much Linn knew about the item he possessed.


Linn stepped aside for Revan as he approached the altar to ask about the rose. The question really shouldn't have come as much a surprise as it did to him, but he was left nontheless silent for a period of time. "It was part of... I don't know really how to describe it. I'd call it a dream if that rose still wasn't in this world. Everything else suggested so. A demon of sorts, like the ones from old books attacked me. I destroyed it with..." unable to really sum it up in a word, he gestured to the fuzzy swirling mass of the void crystal on the altar. "That. Another figure asked me why afterwards and gave me that rose. Said something about us all serving Vakmatharas in one way or another. When I woke up that was all that was left. No one knew anything of the demon or what I did, even though I did it in plain daylight."


Revan cannot suppress the smirk that claims his expression exposing yellow and black teeth, "Then it was a gift from a disciple who saw promise in you... but perhaps the gift was not properly given or not in accordance with the conditions it may have met. Tell me live one..." Revan turns to look at Linn with those swirling eyes, his stare lingering in the silence as he examines every feature of the mans face, "What do you fear most?"


Linn simly shrugged, rather uncaring for what others believed his potential in the work of death may be, and with it, if he even fulfilled those beliefes. Idly his eyes flickered over to Revan as he was examined and questioned on what he feared. He remained silent for a long time, his expression shifting back and forth between sadness and dead neutrality until he finally smirked with faint, if subtly profound amusement. "Fear itself."


Revan hears his answer and responds with a long silence before the smile broadens and a short cackle that could pass for a laugh is heard. "Mortal indeed. Foolish and riddled with the sickness known as bravery. Tell me this, if you'll have me, what is the difference between good and evil to a man such as yourself?"


Linn idly shrugged at the undead's beratement of his fears. But when asked about good and evil he just cracked a grin, suppressing a low chuckle. "Obviously, to me, good is what I want. Evil is what I don't want. There isn't a difference. In the end it's just all of us," he stretched his arms out in a grandiose display as he took another step back, "Thrown into this world with our own interests. Some of them we can reason out. Some of them we can't." Displays and sass aside, he turned back to the undead. "But if not fearing what you expect makes me foolish, what is it that the immortals fear?"


Revan finds himself pleased with Linn's answer, the undead surprised by the definition offered by the enchanter. He lazily places the rose back onto the altar with no intention of changing it's color while offering a very stoic expression to the man as he replies, "Mortals."


Linn tilted his head slightly at the undead's described fear. As he tried to come to a response he was actually left hung for a while. When he spoke he did so softly, pensively. "And just what about us mortals makes us worth fearing? Is it that foolishness? That insanity that makes us prone to doing the most ridiculous things?"


Revan grunts, "It's the fact that you're all responsible for everything wrong in the world."


Linn was left silent and still again, even on a bit of a killjoy with that answer. Eventually he blew out a defeated sigh. "I could think forever on what you find to be wrong. I'd probably never get aywhere. So, what is it that is wrong in this world? There are the things we have already spoke of, but is there anything else if you don't mind me asking?"


Revan closes the distance between him and Linn completely, the undead moving his head all around the enchanter's, sniffing him and moaning from his torn throat - of course, this causes some of that gross inside juice to splatter on the poor man. After a fair assessment Revan shakes his head and backs away, "You are not yet ready for the answer you seek, mortal... in due time."


That Linn found Revan's examination unsettling was a given, and was obvious as his eyes flickered around to fix themselves on the undead. He flinched a little at every splatter, but endured it until he had stepped away before wiping what he could off at the moment. "Very well then." Finding enough food for thought on his mind, he elected to head off to his pack, using a cheap scrap of cloth or leather to wipe the rest of the ichor from his neck; the mithril wouldn't care, and unless addressed more he'd sit there thinking, possibly even until the undead departed. All things considered he wanted to make sure that void crystal remained in his control and his only. This undead's arrival complicated that a little.


Revan allows Linn to go on about his rest without any issue, the undead moving through out the temple to finish his duties. After some time, he would simply be gone with no sound of leaving.