The Trip To Oerth

[*Midnight]

She waves a hand cutting through Mauric's monologue.

"We'll need a name, we must know to whom the souls flow so we can send them there."

[*Krayt]

"One demon lord to glutton on all of them? If there is no other way, then so be it. I would prefer this more random however. For the twisting of holy artifacts like the ones they have left here there is none that could distort them as far from their intended use as Ansitif the Befouler."

[*WeWantOneOfOurOwn]

It will certainly be a long time before any of those souls find true death. I suppose the delay serves them right for their ponderous vivacity, mhm. *he remarks quietly, tapping his lip*

[*Krayt]

The the broad mouth elavated into a sadistical grinning. Glassy pointy teeth glistening in the faint torch light at the bard. The shining crescent surrounded by shadows slithgering and wreathing around itself as the magic still concealed the massive body.

"At the end all things are stripped from a being. Memories of our minds, feelings bound to the flesh we inhibit. How sweet the taste of loss. Why only destroy feelings when you should destroy everything? If I would give you a path to true death would you take it? Why play fair when you can cheat? Unless you don't wish to attain it. Tsorimir you feed on cruellty and revel at the ruin of all things good. Do not weaken yourself by discarding the negative emotions that you compose you. Hide them from others if you must."

[*WeWantOneOfOurOwn]

The the broad mouth elavated into a sadistical grinning. Glassy pointy teeth glistening in the faint torch light at the bard. The shining crescent surrounded by shadows slithgering and wreathing around itself as the magic still concealed the massive body.

"At the end all things are stripped from a being. Memories of our minds, feelings bound to the flesh we inhibit. How sweet the taste of loss. Why only destroy feelings when you should destroy everything? If I would give you a path to true death would you take it? Why play fair when you can cheat? Unless you don't wish to attain it. Tsorimir you feed on cruellty and revel at the ruin of all things good. Do not weaken yourself by discarding the negative emotions that you compose you. Hide them from others if you must."

*Tsorimir taps his lip thoughtfully a long while, considering his reply, and finally he smiles charmingly with all but his odd bluegreen eyes*

Why should I try so hard? True death is effortless. I float and fall like the brightest feather. The process of my undoing is a sweet song that will be over soon enough. You shall never meet a being so perfect as I am, so truly and beautifully ephemeral. My death is true indeed already, I suspect I will die young indeed, and leave a corpse so gorgeous as to make women weep. Why construct or deconstruct my feelings? Mere nerves sing not the song that culls the distractions of the wreck of the 'verse, shapeless and vast. No amount of passion for violence or lust can measure the gift given the living in the form of this husk in which I glow.

((sorry for the long wait for this reply, I thought I had posted it days ago, from my phone. Mobile phone fail :( ))

[*Krayt]

The demon narrowed his flaming eyes glancing at Emila as he listened to the fellow bard.

"Ephemerality is not a choice. Let your soul depart as it yield the husk it becomes a building block of something else. You will not fade but the imprint you left continues as we are mere shades of those before us echoing from the very dawn of creation. Others held this discourse just as we do now. Nothing is truely new we are simply unaware. The cycle rendunds back eternally as long as it remains unbroken. No gift resides in these mortal decaying husks. A cruel curse just as the Creation is just a cycle of travesty. A feather might float or sink to the winds of fate around us. But to trust it to guide you? Why not be the wind that stirr the feather? Your songs, they are are ordained to make a soul sing intune with them. Complacency are death. Your death of will, and someone will certainly jeer at it just as we amuse ourselves with these dismemberings. Are that True Death? Or is the final death only attainable through the utter annihilation of everything?"

((Now you have to exuse me for the delay.))

[*WeWantOneOfOurOwn]

That's a most interesting question, Doomlord. *smiles some more, tapping his lip* But your questions yield only more questions, true death is its own answer, and the answer to all questions.

[*Krayt]

The fire in his eyes burned brighter and the serried tooth grinning revealed even more as it widened apparently pleased with the answer.

"It is your answer. Mine is another. True destruction of everything. How can death be true if life renew itself?"

[*WeWantOneOfOurOwn]

Destruction always precedes creation, Doomlord. Do you wish for a permanent end or just another beginning?

[*Krayt]

"Destruction of everything that exist and ever existed. The end of the cycle. The end of ends. Hatred fules that wish and even would this mortal coil perish the that hatred would manifest again. Without the black current I would be truely dead, shunning what you seek only to attain it withal at the end."

Emila had of course noticed that he cared very little for what he himself got, the ruin, corruption and suffering of others seemed everything of worth. Even now he tried make them stray from what they held true without a apparent reason.. but hatred?