An Old Member

[*Darkrob]

Far below the mortuary, within the area full of sealed crypts, it was business as usual. It was quiet and dark. Sound was almost nonexistent here and not even a faint breeze drifted down the lifeless halls. The walls and doors of the area were innately carved with frescos and designs depicting an amazing assortment of scenes. Most were family designs or those of tribes, race or wealth. They were all equally impressive. Very rarely would these crypts be opened for most of them were filled with the corpses of important or wealthy people who had planned to return to consciousness at some pointÂ… or those who at least hoped to. Not everyone was cut out for the afterlife and not everyone actually made it. Some people experienced all the different levels of death on terms of natural passing and would never return in any form in this place. On this particular day, things changed a bit.

The noise of stone grating on stone began to rumble from far down one of the side passages. Several undead guardians in the area, mostly skeletons and zombies, awoke out their endless slumber and instinctively moved towards that direction as they had been ordered long ago. One of the crypt doors was slowly opening, triggered from the inside. As the undead guards neared, a tall elven figure stepped out of the room inside. It stood taller than most elves and had eyes the glowed a dull yellow. Long fingernails were cracked and skin clung to the bones underneath. It was dressed in ancient elven clothing that showed his importance within his clanÂ… Clan Arch-Mage to those who might recognize such ancient markings of the elven races.

The undead moved towards the elf and then stopped. They felt no life from the intruder so felt no threat. They merely stood there blankly watching it. The elf looked at them closely, and then frowned. A motion of his hand and they took a step back. He looked at them again and shook his head. A word was spoken and the few minor undead that was near him turned to dust. He looked down the dark passage; his eyes showing him all he needed to see and then closed the crypt behind him. Another word was spoken, alighting all the glyphs across its surface, and he began his walk down the hall towards the stairs.

Above him, in chambers used by members more active than the quiet dead below, some of the occupants are innately alerted to the situation below.

[*Midnight]

Sensing the awakening of a powerful undead in the crypts Emila put down the corpse she was embalming. Pulling the hood of her robes up around her head she makes her way through the set of iron doors at the end of the Mortuary's hall and down imto the deep crypts. The darkness and the unatrual chill do not bother her nor do the life sucking incorpreal shadows who lurk within the crypts. As the one of them heads down and the other up they would presumably meet upon the stairs. Seeing the lich Emila addresses it. She is quick and to the point she uses none of the niceties that are the trappings of the living.

"Is someone expecting you?"

[*Darkrob]

The Elf would stop and look up the stairs towards Emila. It seemed to focus on what she said, almost silently considering the words. It opened its mouth to speak. Words born of stale air forced through rigid vocal chords.

"Amin cael sinome nesh. Amin naa n'."

It stood motionless, glowing yellow eyes watching Emila. The language was obviously very ancient... but of similar sound to elven. After a moment, when the Elf realized that she did not understand the language, he spoke again in common.... heavily accented in elven.

"I aim not ekspekted... but aim not unekspekted either. Mine work is (it pauses looking for the word)... finished. I aim released from mine task and aim now able to return to light. I aim Narianaduil Sellanereyn, Arch-magus of the Felnarsyr. Who is it to whom I aim speaking?"

[*Midnight]

A number of names and titles that Emila has accumulated through unlife, few of which are complimentary flash through her mind. There's only one that matters here.

"My name is Emila Valios. I am a fourth circle initiate of the Dustmen who's headquarters you now find yourself in. Do you know this already or will a longer introduction be required?"

[*Darkrob]

The elf continued up the stairs.

“I aim aware of what this place is. Several centuries ago I made a deal with your Factol. A large crypt for me to work in, to store mine historical works… in exchange for mine services when I was completed. That was just over four centuries ago. While I aim not certain whom leads you now, I aim still bound by mine contract. To aid the Dustmen as aim able… without betraying mine own morals of course. Tell me, Emila Valios of the Fourth Circle, whom leads your faction and in what capacity can I be of assistance?”

[*Darkrob]

“Of course, Emila of the fourth Circle. Mine intent was to display that the mockery of the abominations is not true death and is only considered by, used as excuse by, those intent on exploiting these poor souls for their own needs… in this case… forced labor.”

The elf stops walking and turns his yellow eyes on Emila.

“It is obvious you are no longer of the living, Emila of the Fourth Circle. Your state… I assume it was a personal choice of yours and not forced upon you against your will?”

[*Midnight]

She stops as he does and answers the personal question without hesitation.

"Actually I had no choice in this at the time. I feel however I am making the most of the situation."

[*Darkrob]

“Making the best of it. Unfortunate that the need to make the best of it was thrust upon you against your will. While we should guide the living to seek a true state of death, we should not drag them into such fates against their will. Death will come for them, it is inevitable, but the passing should be natural and any state, such as undeath, should never be thrust on the unwilling or unaware.

To stand before a corpse, to animate it in order to serve the will of another without benefit of choice, creates only abomination. It should not be permitted.”

[*Midnight]

"On the contrary it has allowed my mind to clear, the emitions and passions which clouded it are gone. I would not go back if I could. Without proper guidance death will find people, but true death will elude them. You said you spoke with Factol Skall. Did he not explain this?"

[*Darkrob]

“Explanations of view do not always bring complete acceptance of said view. While I found his views had merit, I did not completely accept it as unflawed. Mine existence as a Balenorn is one of necessity… in great part to ensure proper rest… a true death, is brought to mine people. This form was not taken to increase mine power or to extend mine existence for selfish reasons. This stage of death, for mineself, is necessary for the salvation of mine people… to have them remembered and to bring them peace.

Mine people would never be brought back as mindless abominations to serve me. That aspect of death is abhorrent to those who seek true rest. The abominations you have wandering this place were most likely given no choice for their servitude and undead or not… that makes them slaves to those whom should know better.”