Beyond Love

It had been a hard fought battle, a small collection of corpses strewn about, half of the group were normal bandits and brigands, while the other half seemed to be a punitive force. The force was no doubt commissioned to take care of the bandits that lay next to them, but neither of the two walked out from the path alive. Instead all that was left was a single woman sitting down on a crate of supplies, the only living thing left on the small battlefield, she had an enchanting figure and eyes that were gentle to the core. The atmosphere around her was warm and reassuring, her actions slow and gentle as she worked. What she was working on was the only other standing body in the area, but one couldn't call it alive. It's skin was worn and ragged from ware, with a portion of it's face missing revealing a cracked and caved skull. The ear and eye on that side didn't escape the destruction, as if the whole of that portion of head had been buffered clear by something. The other side however was relatively in tact. The grey skin of the woman made it clear she was no longer among the living, the once pointed ear that remained had been cut or bitten off and what hair remained was white and grayed from the death that infected the remains.

"You went and got yourself beat up again Sylvanas-- These repairs aren't getting easier." Lucia couldn't help sighing. The mayhem around had been largely her fault, in an effort to train Sylvanas's technique up to a higher level she'd been persistantly subjugating the local bandit clans... How could she have known a punitive force from the town had been sent out to deal with the problem as well? Naturally, Lucia didn't dwell on the loss of life, instead focused on the things she could change in the moment. A soft gentle lavender light came off of her hands, the gentle glow was slowly bonding the undead elf's hand back to the stub of a wrist. It was clear that during the scuffle the hand had been lopped off in the middle of the conflict, but Sylvanas didn't need her limbs or even her head to fight properly. She was a Middle Tier undead by this point, a Grave Guard, a superior creature from the ghoul sub-species. Naturally she could survive an immense amount of trauma, let alone a cleanly cut hand.

Lucia continued admonishing the standing corpse as she repaired the arm, though the corpse merely stared blankly into the air with no words of reply, Lucia understand her subordinate well. Her undead couldn't speak unless she pulled it out of them and urged them to. They couldn't make a move on their own until they reached a point of self awareness. While Sylvanas was close to that point, she wasn't quite there yet. Instead, Lucia kept talking to her hoping that hearing words, hearing a social and kind tone would help build the foundations for future conversations and chit chat the corpse might engage in in the future for her sake.

@Ruh Murad

 

It was clear that a great calamity had occurred here: bodies had been strewn and laid upon each other, uniforms mismatched and scattered about as not even a single soul remained capering in flesh and blood - save for one. What had happened here? The cleric wondered as he observed atop a mount in the path, his point of vantage cursing him with such an ill and unforgettable sight. Adorning his ethnic, angular features were a set of sullen beryl pools that of which wistfully observed the resting place for a countless number of men as they remained in their current state. Beneath his sandy veil he could feel a hook on the edge of his lip, tugging it south as he frowned. He drew a sharp breath, the scent of death pulling into his nostrils as he leaned forward with a cough. He slowly descended down that slope, unaware of what he might found as he made it his personal mission to offer final salvation for those that remained - if any. He glowered as he gazed about, situations like these impacting him the most as he had been incapable of stopping this... genocide. He advanced slowly, his head on a swivel as astute, azure eyes searched with a need.

He would come to halt in his tracks, his stop abrupt as his eyes found themselves settling on an alien sight on this barren field of death and dismay. The cleric found himself blinking, unsure if what he had seen was of this world or not. She stood there perfectly, undisturbed by the ocean of death that seemed to encompass her. She was tall, an air of royalty seemed present in her height. The clothing worn had been form-fitting, flattering of her shape. Slowly, a sense of concern pang in his gut, he would encroach upon the woman in search for answers. Albeit, he found himself startled as he drew near as she tended to the wounds of an unknown ghoul of sorts. He cursed having to stop so abruptly once more, his eyes fixed on the ghoul as opposed to the illustrious woman that mended its wounds. He observed as a soft, purple glow permeated over its flesh, consuming the lopped off wrist with the addition of the hand in hopes of combining the two.

"I assume yours is the side that won?" The cleric called from several paces away, knowing best to keep his distance. Simply speaking had been enough to embolden the man, causing him to step forward. "I am Ruh Murad... I had been traveling when I happened upon all this." He expanded his arms, reintroducing her with the newly deceased that surrounded her. His eyes shifted from the chanting human to Sylvanas. His eyes settled on her, noting the extensive damage on her - part of her skull had received the most of it and it had been unpleasant to look at it. The man folded his arms over his semi-bare chest, the mantle on his shoulders only seemed to intensify the appearance. "Has your companion always been so discombobulated?"

@Lucia Mierz

 

Lucia didn't hesitate when the man approached, she was a Priestess after all, one who worked closely with the Elysid Court even if it was the Malevolent Tora. Not only life, but also death was very familiar with her, it was something she didn't just see and touch but also 'experience' within this game. Within her field of vision there were a myriad of filters she could explore the world through and within a map of the surrounding life was one such filter. A single living person among a myriad of corpses was easy for her to pick out, literally a bright light amidst the black hole that had been left during the conflict. "You could say that it did... unfortunately we were a bad opponent for them." Lucia admitted, her expression somewhat bitter though as she spoke, clearly bothered. Lucia's skillset thrived against massive numbers of weaker opponents. No matter the numbers, hundreds, thousands, millions, her skillset had been meticulously crafted to obliterate en masse. The stronger the opponents became, the more cruel the methods would usually be. Comparatively, a single powerful opponent was much more difficult a fight for her at this stage

"It's unfortunate that things had to end this way, it's troublesome." She admitted with a breath of frustration. Had she been stronger, she felt things wouldn't have had to end this way, unfortunately she was not all powerful enough to act as a deterrent for war. She needed a power on the level of a nuclear strike for that kind of peace granting effect. She could only try her best to wash her hands of the issue like all the others and aim to get better next time. Though the talk about discombobulation made her glance up to Sylvanas. The thrall's blank gaze didn't change despite being watched or observed. "Sylvanas has always been this way. I picked her up from a fortress siege, by the time I arrived, she'd been long dead and we were beginning to claim the fortress as a Player's Kingdom." Lucia explained, Sylvanas's origins were a little unique she thought. The thrall had been with her in that World event and followed through to the battle with Azogg up til the present. She had been with her almost from the start of her journey as a Necromancer.

Thinking she hadn't quite answered the man's question though, she hesitated briefly before continuing on with a sheepish smile. "As for the 'damage', Low-Tier undead such as Zombies and Skeletons are born directly from a corpse. Trying to repair them before hand is impossible. Mid-Tier undead, such as Ghouls, specters and chimeras, they lack the abilities to repair the damage on their own. I've been trying to restore some here and there, but even minor scrapes and bruises require 'materials'... I wouldn't want to hurt innocent people just to steal flesh from their corpses though." Lucia admitted with a bitter expression. Repairing Sylvanas's face and head was much different from repairing her arm or patching up a hole. Lucia had all of the materials needed to repair those things, she just had to collect what was lost to reapply it. Sylvanas's face however had been either eaten or worn from her body during a conflict that Lucia herself arrived to late. Collecting the left overs was too difficult, particularly since the battle was still going on. "Sylvanas isn't your normal Mid-Tier undead, she is a higher sub-species of ghoul, the peak of mid-tier potential; a Grave Guard, but that's still a qualitative level below a 'High-Tier' undead. Things such as Wights, Vampires, Liches and Abominations could all repair themselves even without the proper materials... but Sylvanas is still a step away from that level of ability." Lucia admitted with a sad sigh knowing her subordinate was so close but so far.

 

There was a power that permeated - her aura. Despite the clarity of those astute and opulent beryl lenses, it was something that transcended his mortal sight. The cleric would simply feel it, her presence powerful enough without the thrall at her side, its gaze possessed a haunting nothingness as its consciousness idled until the priestess next given command. It seemed a sad life, but the thrall seemed to know no better as it had nothing to compare it against. Maybe, somewhere beneath it all, there was a happiness that it clung to in its current state. He bothered himself with these little thoughts, trying to reason the curious arrangement that was their partnership - their relationship. Still, he wondered, what power such a creature possessed as his eyes found themselves passively rummaging about the unidentified corpses, the grave en mass.

However, the slender man found his head cocking to the side as he gestured curiosity, a curious look in those bright blue eyes as his brow furrowed in question. The pang of guilt he assumed from her weighted sigh was of a surprise, a tinge of disappointment seemed to underline her words as she shared onto him her innermost thoughts of the situation - she blamed herself for these sins that crawled upon her back. A question was caught in his throat before it had the chance to escape, assessing that now was an inappropriate time to pry considering her visible guilt for the madness that encompassed the priestess and her doll. Her origins were curious, the cleric found himself wandering the game's current 'time period', despite its relative newness in the face of reality - just how many histories existed in this world?

"Tell me, what will you do now with the dead that surround you? Are they to become material for your thrall?" He pressed the question, the beat of his heart hastened. The thrall had been quite the sight and, in her own regards, a frightening creature that left him taking shallow breaths in an air of uncertainty, unsure if the woman would ever bark the command for such a beast to devour him. His head shook to cast away the thought, appearing as a small twitch. The cleric was silent as she spoke now, invested into finding a finer line beneath her explanation - surely, there was a silver lining to this all. "With such a... unique talent, is there something that stops you from taking more? If Syl...vanas acquires sentience, will there be more difficult in her control?" These were important questions that he asked, burning ones as what stood before him was nothing more than a monster.

If she would honor his questions by providing answers, he would be satisfied - there was no advantage in his court, he was doomed if this conversation became anything less of civil. However, in his queer way, he advanced just short of a lifeless body, kneeling down as slender fingers found themselves sweeping over the armored back of a nameless body. "I weep for these nameless men, you know. My love for them is no less than that of their mother's or their fathers - their son's or their daughter's; yet, I do not know them." He patted the motionless man before standing back up. "I feel more and more buried by failure as my eyes drink from this fetid sea around me." He inhaled sharply, arms folding over his chest as he exhaled. "A great guilt swells in my gut like a ball, regardless of my involvement here... as I had none, as I provided no alternative to the chaos that ensued." Ruh's palatial and expressive eyes settled on the woman's own. "Tell me, stranger, what is your name and what is this power that seems to radiate about you?" The cleric inquired - did he mean her status or had he meant her strength?

 

While the man had been examining the corpses around him, Lucia had been completing her work fixing Sylvanas's hand back to the nub of a wrist she had. The lavender colored light fading and almost immediately after the Thrall tightened it's fist that only a moment ago had been a dismembered hand. The Thrall's strength was great enough for the metal of her armored hand to groan and squeal from the force of her grip, but once unclenched it seemed that the armor was made in a way to prevent warping from balling up a strong fist. Almost immediately after, the corpse's head snapped towards Ruh, the Thrall's milky white gaze had been blank and lifeless moments ago had undergone an immediate change once it's hand was secured. As if it was only to remain still and empty for Lucia to attach it's hand and had suddenly snapped back into being attentive and active. With a violent grasping gesture, the Thrall pulled a black spear from the air, coalesced into a solid from a black murky smoke. The Thrall's once milky white gaze became strangely intense, there was no heated anger or rage, the intensity wasn't savage like one might expect from an undead.

Instead, it was frigid, cool and ruthless, icy and measured. It was a sign of experience and perhaps more frightening; Intelligence. That harsh chill in it's gaze like an arctic wasteland made it clear that if it acted, there would be nothing like mercy or honor. It was a pressure that sucked the hope from a battlefield. This intense creature managed to take a single step towards Ruh, as if his presence were taken as a threat that was to be dealt with immediately, fortunately all it managed to do was take a step before a gentle hand halted it's advance. "Sylvanas, it's already over. This one isn't here to fight us, right?" Lucia asked Ruh, her smile stil gentle, serene and kind, a stark and contrast to the intensity of the corpse she stopped with a soft gesture. Perhaps even more disturbing was how sweet Lucia, the summoner could be compared to the creatures she created. As if frozen in place, the Thrall halted and didn't dare twitch even a finger, but it's remaining eye was still firmly locked on the Cleric.

Instead, once things seemed to calm once more, she'd exhale a tired sigh, nodding along. Glancing to the men who had died around her though she could only shake her head. "Perhaps if I intended to make some kind of Chimera or Abomination, unfortunately those types of creatures aren't ones I could make from intelligent human remains." She admitted, a dry laugh coming from her lips from a faint disgust. To use humans as materials, and this many, the result would be some kind of multi-limbed chimera; a Flesh or bone golem that might make a person wretch at the sight of. "For Sylvanas, I need materials that are like her, and only a small amount-- That means Materials from a High Moon Elf... Not exactly easy to come across." She explained with a sigh. Finding them was hard enough but Moon elves got along with Necromancers and the like, so finding one that would clash with her without being provoked was near impossible. Lucia would not resort to hunting the innocent just to make Sylvanas more presentable.

Though the talk of control difficulties made Lucia chuckle, her laughter melodious and enchanting as she rose from her seat to stand beside the still leaning thrall that had frozen mid run. "Making a High Tier undead is not a small feat, it would be no difference from making someone into a Grand Archmage or a Pope. Millions struggle, but how many reach that point? With my help, things are progressing, but with my ability I can only do so much; I cannot simply raise them like cabbages." Lucia explained with a gentle hand gesture. There was no harm in opening people's eyes to the undead plight after all. "My goal has never been control, I'm merely protecting them until they grow. First like babies ruled by emotion, they need to be contained and protected. Now, like a child who doesn't understand consequences or their own identity, Sylvanas struggles in confusion. The control I want to exert isn't much more then a parent's to try and bring her into maturity, once she grows enough to understand the ways of the world and her place within it, will I have a need to control her like a puppet after raising her with kindness?" Lucia asked with a mellow smile.

Though when it came to the men, Lucia could only shake her head with some grievances as she nodded along understanding the man's feelings. "Ah-- Yes, I understand all too well. It is the prejudice that comes from Necromancy, all I wanted was to strike down the bandits that were harming the farmers in the out lying settlement villages for materials... Who would have thought a punitive force would have come." With a bitter expression she couldn't help shaking her head. "The moment they saw me, they no doubt assumed the worst. My options at that point were to die or kill them first with their numbers." Lucia said with a heavy sigh. If she was stronger or better she might have been able to escape after clearing out the local evils as she was asked. In the end, the local guards arrived during the conflict and decided that she was a villain that couldn't convince them with sweet words. "They will become the next generation of the Tal'Darim Knights. At least then I can give them a second chance as something else." Lucia couldn't help sighing heavily at the thought.

 

Cool, beryl eyes settled on the menace before him as a construct akin to 'life' roused from it, the mechanical droning of its non-sentient stare ceased to exist as something alien-unfamiliar-had taken over. Once idle, it sprung to life at the completion of her magic, the soft and humming violet light pulsing gently from her hand having wavered as the hand turn asunder from her wrist moved naturally enough. The whine of her armor did not go unnoticed and simply served as a stalwart example of her strength. The cleric had remained in place, observing passively as if already acquiescent of his fate - his approach had been bolstered by this, aware things could have gone one of two ways. Those astute lenses of his read further into the creature, almost fascinated by her gaze as she managed to-both-gaze upon and through him. Through all his perceptiveness, there was nothing more to gather from the gelid glower those stern eyes had to offer; the thrall was as vile and laden in contempt as a creature slaughtering to feast and survive.

"Aye, Sylvanas, she is right." His words were bound to fall upon deaf ears, nothing more than noise to invade her eardrums as intense, bare eyes bore through him like maggot would flesh. In no measure or calculation of a scenario would the ethnic man survive and prosper if the priestess decided against it. He could relive his death a thousand times and in no instance, even with meta knowledge, would he be able to handle such a magnificent creature. Yet, in reality, his approach had never been crude or wrought with ill intention. Ruh Murad found his settled eyes shifting from the thrall before him and unto the queer woman behind her. The pair had been night and day, the sun and the moon - life and death itself. Where she had seemed soft and warm, her words both gentle and hospitable, the thrall was crude and frigid, void of the fragile and uncertain understanding only discovered with the complexity of human emotion- such things seemed ethereal in their most raw essences.

Despite the notable dissipation of tension as she halted the beast with nothing more than wave of her hand, the cleric found himself incapable of offering even a dry laughter as she went on to speak. His stomach turned at the thought of these foul beasts as dark magic would be used to destroy and create them - such was the natural order to these things. He noted how she spoke of familiarity to this, more likely having conceived the notion herself at one point. It was clear to him that the more she spoke on the subject, the further she seemed from realizing this small goal.

With the majority of his face shrouded by a sandy veil and his head itself encompassed by a large turban that flowed, there was little the man could do to give away emotion - except through those large and expressive eyes of his. Those very lenses remained settled on the necromancer as she spoke, trying to make sense of this highly-intelligent woman as she spoke. To many, what had occurred sounded like nothing more than happenstance as she managed to arrive on time to stop pillaging bandits, but left too late to face complete eradication by an enemy unlike any they had seen before. "Aye, mind me, Miss as I bare no ill'd will towards you." He nodded along, assuring to her his statement. "I sense that we both ache with a pang in our bellies and a curled hand on our hearts. When I first happened upon this graveyard, I felt tormented by despair as I gazed outwardly onto the field," he drew a breath, looking around " If I had been quick just alone on my feet, I may have arrived on time to offer support and mitigate it all - or even just the slither." He shared.

"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger." He found himself glancing towards what he would call a punitive purpose; albeit, it seemed the necromancer had more inline as her talents grew. "Have you always had such a talent? For the control, regardless of how you may humble yourself, your grasp of is at the least bit formidable." He spoke this with experience. "Do you plan to amass a kingdom of the undead?" The cleric asked, a respectable distance between the man and the pair still remained if Sylvanas somehow decided to act on her own. "How are you certain that this second chance you offer is a choice they would make on their own - death, too, was never a choice this brazen men made... yet, the deed was done despite their will to avoid it as your will proved to be more powerful..." He mentioned, trying to understand this concept of hers. "Are you in the position to make these decisions for the deceased?" Ruh pondered. With a sharp inhale, sullen eyes found themselves casting to the very-most corners as he tried to understand how, with sentience, these controlled creatures would respond when they crossed that bridge: would they be indebted to her for this chance of life they never asked for?

 

Slowly, after being stalled for a while, the creature would begin to relax it's frozen posture. As if it had taken a lot to give up it's advance towards the Cleric. Finally though, Sylvanas simply stood, though her gaze was just as sharp and pointed as ever, she didn't drift back into that 'blankness' that seemed to exist while Lucia was repairing her. Instead, she shook her head knowing that this person had no real ill will towards her. Unlike those who charged her with swords drawn without even exchanging words at the sight of the Thrall, it was a very clear difference. She didn't feel a need to pursue it and instead only tried to show she understood with a gentle gesture, she wouldn't have the person continue fearing a sudden attack from the blue. Lucia wasn't the type to target bystanders or innocent if her hand wasn't forced for some reason or another.

Though when he mentioned regret about arriving too late, Lucia couldn't help showing a somewhat bitter smile. As much as he might have wanted to try to intervene she was already very confident in her belief of how things would end. "Don't burden yourself too much. However unfortunate, this sort of thing is inevitable once the Locals see Sylvanas. They all assume me to be their mortal enemy, someone who is a grave threat to all living things. Words aren't enough to explain or halt their advance, had you shown up, I fear you might even have been dragged into choosing sides by them." Lucia admitted with a dry chuckle. She'd confronted the NPCs of this world on a regular basis, though not always on this scale or to this extent but they were never particularly fond of her when they discovered her identity. Unless they were also of the Malevolent Tora, she was at best ostracized while at worst she was attacked without a word.

Though the talk about dead dyign and rising made Lucia shake her head, as much as it might seem so, it was surely not true. "The dead can indeed die, while it is a bit harder, it's not much. Once dead though, the cycle can merely continue, much like the cycle of reincarnation, they are born again as Low Tier creatures unless they are somehow preserved." Lucia explained with a modest tone and patient demeanor. "As for my ability... I was once a normal Malefimancer, a Ranger even, with bow and curses I tried to play my own way and immerse myself in this world. It was only after a myriad of coincidences and chances that I became what I am, during a Raid I met with the goddess Synra who gave me this talent-- it's for that reason I don't mind explaining, who would be so silly as to challenge one chosen by a Goddess for her inheritance?" Lucia asked with a dazzling smile despite the grandoise and impossible sounding story. While it did sound a little stretched though, it wasn't false in the slightest. Lucia had gone far to earn the goddess's support, people who tried to take that from her would be hard pressed to get any results. Imitating her process was also equally as crazy and deluded, for that reason Lucia had no problems being honest and genuine.

As for the talks of compulsion and the Dead's opinions on being brought back though, Lucia only flashed a small knowing smile. Patiently waiting, she simply folded her hands 'expectation' clear in her expression and it wouldn't take long until it was met. "Those that try to kill others do so understanding the consequences. Those that fight believing they will emerge an invincible hero aren't any different from tools regardless." A voice spoke up, it's tone different from Lucia's, distorted and warped but the dread and icy sting was clear. It had an ethereal nature, wispy as if fading in and out at times as if it wasn't really 'sound'. The source, was Sylvanas, the voice radiating out from her while Lucia nodded content to let her Thrall speak. "Conscription is not such an unusual thing... While being in this state is suffering and torture, you begin to forget who you were, the pain dulls, the despair weakens. What is more frightening, more worrisome is that you begin to embrace these things, to enjoy and revel in the changes if time passes." "Otherwise, once they die, I tend to let them rest after service if that's their wish." Lucia added in brightly, though Sylvanas's words made it clear, after being undead for so long she was already too far gone to enjoy 'rest'.

 

The cleric would find himself offering understanding nods, his expressive eyes would refrain from breaking eye contact as she spoke. There was an astute wisdom about the woman, one that would roused comfort and confidence as the understanding of her player seemed overarching as her time spent in the game had been dramatically different; there was a settled experience in her words, one that he could not dare to match. His gaze seemed perpetually sullen as sweet breath fled between her parted lips, her trails and tribulations made his heart feel bitter - it seemed inconceivable to thrive as she had in this world where everyone had been against her. Yet, Lucia managed to persevere- no, thrive.

Beneath his sandy veil his features remained idle. However, as she explained her histories, the man found two arms folding over themselves and a brow rising in intrigue as she spoke of what teetered on the cusps of impossible. Albeit, he himself had attended the campaign against Azog, so there clearly had to be more credibility than first warranted, right? He wondered what infinite power this goddess possessed, having bestowed such a neutral gift. Her power had sunken into a gray area, neither black nor white in its nature. Earlier, he would have only assumed the most vile and ill contempt for those who bore such a mighty talent, yet he found his reservations challenged by embodied poise and grace before him.

On impulse those beryl lenses of his found themselves torn from the necromancer, darting to the Thrall. He stared intensely, her queer voice had been unlike anything he'd ever encountered, his mouth left somewhat agape beneath his veil. He would refrain from speaking, knowing he would regret interrupting- not for his own safety, but for ruining whatever train of thought the Thrall had been on. Still, despite the keen understanding in her alien voice, those eyes sunken into her marred skull remained void of emotion, turgid in their frosty intensity. Had it been magic that lent her a voice, it would have been clear that the necromancer had a fancy for theatrics. Having gauged her consciousness, her stark understanding of the topic, had been a ephemeral experience.

After a brief pause, the man cleared his throat to speak. "I suppose I'd be little more than a fool if I thought it wise to argue your point." He chuckled dryly, intrigued eyes remaining on the thrall, though they would not remain long. His sights settled back onto Lucia, his speech directed to her from then on. "Had she always been capable of that?" Genuine curiosity managed to slip out, escaping from between his lips in question. "Are there any to fear your epoch?" He questioned, following up with another as she seemed capable in providing exquisite answers to them. Then, he looked to Sylvanas and spoke. "Having consciousness of your own, Sylvanas, is it so simple to remain in dutiful service when you've the range to continue on your own - or, are you bound to remain by the support of her talents?" He drew a sharp breath, braving another question as they began to sate his burning questions. "Is the existential a concern for you?"

 

Ruh's surprise was clearly pleasing to the girl, very few had ever heard Sylvanas's voice, largely because the creature couldn't move a muscle without her say so, speaking was naturally difficult as well. Lucia had to will the girl to speak, a gentle push to urge her to air the words that were forced down by nature. Whether she was compelling her to say specific words or speak naturally, Lucia had to put forth an effort for the result all the same. "It takes a bit of effort from me to make her speak at this stage. Until she becomes more independent she won't be able to speak on her own, it doesn't take much for me to hear what's in her heart though-- so to speak." She added knowing the choice of words might be clever considering Sylvanas's unbeating heart. Many would no doubt find it hard to argue Lucia's knowledge though. Among the player base the Necromancers were limited to just her alone.

Though when asked about fearing her influence on the world, Lucia could only sigh heavily, a burdened sigh as she nodded. "Surely there's some, of that I have no doubt. Malefimancy at it's core is a system of curses and blights, the damage done doesn't fade simply, and it spreads harming even bystanders and innocent if not watched." Lucia admitted. Malefimancy in general had a habit of harming the innocent just by being. Even her Necromancy had a chance to harm people if she ever loosed undead without keeping an eye on them and dismissing them thoroughly once the job was completed. "I find it no more or less harmful then the human influence on the world though. As dangerous as Malefimancy is, it's a very noticeable harm at the very least." Lucia admitted with a small knowing smile, human expansion and ambition after all was strong. If compared to dark magics, Lucia felt that the damage done to the world and other life was about equal.

When the man shifted his gaze back to the Thrall though, Lucia glanced towards the Elf corpse as well, giving a brief nod of approval. For a moment there was clear hesitation, despite being allowed to speak, it seemed to be at a loss briefly before finally speaking, the ephemeral words were low, as if whispered or murmured. "What else is there for one such as me?" The question was very blunt and direct, but came with numerous underlying messages. She was an undead Elf, after living as a Thrall for so long, she understood she was not 'Sylvanas' as she was known in life. While she had that Elf's memories, her body, she was not that person-- From the moment she died that 'person' was gone, and instead 'Someone New' had appeared in her place. That woman's vengeance against humans wasn't important or even possible any more; a Vendetta against the race as a whole was even sillier considering the one who made her and opened her mind to the reality was Human. Without the Elves to welcome her as one of their own she could not return to her people, without vengeance her life had no real purpose or meaning.

"In the beginning... I was compelled to fight. Made for a single purpose, promised only that one role from the start." Sylvanas finally continued, though the word choice might sound desolate, the corpse spoke bluntly without negative or positive connotations, as if that was merely how things were-- like stating facts. "If such a day comes, I will only continue to fight-- If nothing else then to understand why I was made, to see what kind of fruit the effort wasted on me would bare." The corpse spoke in a way that made it clear there was nothing on it's mind as far as future goals or possibilities. It didn't seem to understand or want any, from the start it wasn't supposed to be in the first place, instead it only seemed to want to see and experience the reasons for bringing it this far before it's end.