Aziris looks up in surprise at the other visitor to the normally-empty cemetery.
Khorvis looks preoccupied as he stomps from grave to grave, inspecting headstones.
[Aziris]: YOU...
[Khorvis]: Phaw.
Aziris frowns, recognizing this orc.
[Aziris]: What are you doing here?
Khorvis looks up, surprised but only for a moment.
[Khorvis]: The fel.. I do not know. Just a feeling.
[Aziris]: You cannot make amends to the dead, if that is what you seek.
Aziris inspects Khorvis.
[Khorvis]: And why not? The ancestors do walk among us. Some do say we can even see them, come Hallow's End.
[Aziris]: In my experience, you cannot restore life to what is dead or... *glances to the tombstones* especially long buried.
[Aziris]: Spirits do linger, though.
Aziris cocks her head gently to one side, regarding the intruder.
Khorvis shakes his head, divesting himself from an odd reverie and focusing on this slight figure.
[Khorvis]: Speak your name, stranger. Or maybe you too will linger here among the graves.
[Aziris]: Is that a threat?
[Aziris]: You will find that courtesy goes farther in effecting your influence on those around you in a positive manner.
Aziris preaches.
Khorvis grips the headstone as a flash of heat moves through his body. A burst of sweat and it is gone, followed by a chill.
Aziris glowing gaze narrows.
[Aziris]: My name is Aziris. What brings you here, 'stranger'?
Khorvis chatters, "Phaw. As I did say, I do not know. Call it a premonition. Or a stranger's memory. I do be called Khorvis by many. High Inquisitor by some."
Aziris raises a brow, for Khorvis is certainly not attired as one might expect for someone whose title begins with "high".
[Aziris]: You do not look well, Khorvis.
[Khorvis]: May be, and may be not. There do be a great many healers to tend whatever wounds I might own, Aziris. I do trust their judgement, for they be Grim. Perhaps you have heard the name?
Khorvis almost snarls his response.
[Aziris]: Far be it for for me to question judgment of yours over your own self. Forgive the implication.
[Aziris]: I have heard the name, yes.
Aziris looks at Khorvis.
[Khorvis stalks toward and around Aziris, inspecting her]
Aziris maintains distance, gracefully.
[Khorvis]: Hrmph. Aziris...
Aziris watches Khorvis warily.
[Khorvis]: There did be a letter, come to the Halls of the Inquisition, some days past.
Aziris frowns.
[Khorvis]: But I do wonder if this frail thing before me would be the same that sent it.
[Aziris]: Appearances can be quite deceiving. I did send a letter... but that was some time ago.
[Aziris]: You are Grim.
Aziris says, more statement than question.
Aziris flicks her finger at a passing rat, exterminating it.
[Khorvis]: Aye. The Mandate keeps me, and I do keep it.
[Khorvis]: Come. We will sit by the old tree and speak of it.
[Aziris]: As you wish.
Aziris glides to a seat and settles.
[Khorvis]: How did you come to hear of the Grim, Aziris? I do know our name is spoken in quiet places, but still...
Khorvis watches Aziris out of the corner of his eye. In his search for a certain grave, he is skeptical of this forsaken creature's happenstance.
[Aziris]: And the not-so-quiet. You have been making quite the name for yourselves. Some begin to take notice.
Khorvis grunts. "That does not answer my question."
[Aziris]: Forgive me. I personally first learned of you by assignment. I was to join your ranks. Later, you yourself brought knowledge of the Grim to me personally.
[Khorvis]: Assignment? There do be some commander in the field sending Hordelings to the Mandate?
Khorvis looks almost incredulous.
Aziris nods gently.
[Aziris]: Surely I am not the first. There must have been others ordered to join your ranks without the delay that I have done.
[Aziris]: The Grim walk a thin line, Inquisitor.
Khorvis packs away his feigned skepticism and nods.
[Khorvis]: So be it. As our numbers grow, so does our influence. It does be expected.
[Khorvis]: And why is it that you wish to join our ranks? If your letter still does hold true.
Khorvis speaks the usual words of the Inquisition while inspecting the aged bark of the cemetery’s central specimen.
[Aziris]: The letter itself does not, for I find myself unemployed. I have no cause anymore to follow orders for a position no longer mine. However, a priest of yours did convince me to continue regardless.
Khorvis harumphs. "A priest? Speak their name."
[Aziris]: Lupinum.
[Aziris]: A Forsaken brother.
Aziris watches Khorvis' reaction, if any, closely.
Khorvis smiles despite himself. It seems out of place, in the gloom of the cemetery. Yet it could be a tiny beacon of hope, though lost in the orc's beard.
[Khorvis]: Aye, brother Lupinum do be a solid pillar of our cause.
[Khorvis]: What did he tell you of the Mandate? And what do you know of it, Aziris?
Khorvis shifts on the hard stone bench. His leathers are old and worn.
Aziris eyes Khorvis, noting the fondness displayed, then resets her own face to neutral.
[Aziris]: He has not told me much of anything. I know from other sources that the words of it are "peace through annihilation." Simplistically vague and open to a variety of interpretations, the most common of which is to destroy any threat.
[Khorvis]: You do speak like one of the bloody books of the Archivist.
[Aziris]: Very well. In layman's terms- kill the bad guys.
[Khorvis]: But not wrong. If you did howl the words of the Mandate while snapping the necks of Alliance dogs, what would the words say in your heart?
Khorvis watches the forsaken woman's eyes. The fervor is always there, if at all.
[Aziris]: I was under the impression that there would be an inquisition, wherein I would first prove competence, and -then- understanding, after some study. I am not certain I am able to properly answer your question in my current ignorance.
Khorvis turns upon his bench, straddling the stonework and unsheathing a crude carving knife.
Khorvis sighs and speaks to the woman plainly.
Aziris does not move, but the shimmer of a shield around her might betray the strengthing of magic defenses.
[Khorvis]: Before the plague came to these lands, I did ride with the host of the Horde. Ever North did we push.
Aziris listens.
[Khorvis]: The shining jewel was the ruined city some few paces to our South.
[Khorvis]: What was it that you did for your people, before the plague took you, Aziris?
Aziris 's hesitation is almost unnoticeable.
[Aziris]: My family raised and trained horses.
[Khorvis]: Steeds for commerce? Or warhorses for the knights of Lordaeron?
[Aziris]: All. Draft beasts meant for the plow, warhorses for the armies. Gentled pure-bred lines for nobility.
Khorvis thumbs the blade of his knife, letting the rasp of his calloused thumb sound from the razorsharp edge.
Aziris 's eyes flicker down to the knife and back up again to Khorvis' face.
[Aziris]: Why do you ask.
[Khorvis]: There did be orcs I called brother who would boast over drink at how many human steeds their worgs could hamstring and fell.
[Khorvis]: If we had met in Lordaeron, during that war, it do be likely that your gut would have met this knife.
Khorvis coughs into his hand, wiping away some spittle and blood.
[Khorvis]: I do ask because I wish to know your intent, Aziris. There must be something that you do hate more greatly than my hide
[Khorvis]: Or something that you do love more than my rotting corpse.
[Aziris]: I wish to understand.
[Aziris]: I want to know...
[Khorvis]: Explain it to me. I do be simple, but not dense.
[Aziris]: What it is that drives your guild. What causes an orc, in the dead of night, to drag his fellow horde from their beds and vent his abuse on them, all because the flesh of his dear brother did be sundered.
Aziris says this evenly, without emotion.
Khorvis pales.
[Aziris]: What is it that sparks that kind of violence, or devotion behind it?
[Aziris]: They say knowledge is power, Inquisitor.
[Khorvis]: There do be a great many deaths that I must sleep with. Some fester more than others. Some do keep me awake, despite the hour.
Aziris doesn't look sympathetic at all, she has her apothecary face on.
Khorvis rightens himself and begins pacing about the dead tree.
Khorvis grunts peacefully at Kelgrave.
Aziris glances to the newcomer and nods to her brother Foraken.
Kelgrave slides down from his warhorse and motions it back toward town.
[Khorvis]: Throm'ka, Supplicant Kelgrave.
Kelgrave salutes Khorvis with respect.
[Kelgrave]: High Inquisitor.
Kelgrave nods at the robed figure, but says nothing.
[Khorvis]: How goes your first trial? I do be sure a great many deaths do lay at your feet.
Khorvis looks hopeful, almost begging for affirmation.
[Kelgrave]: It progresses steadily--the count of my forays onto the battlefield against the Alliance continues to tally up.
Aziris eyes Khorvis up and down.
[Kelgrave]: I haven't yet enjoyed an unbroken score of kills before getting knocked to the dirt, but with the Tactician's aid, it should only be a matter of time.
[Khorvis]: Aye. Zug zug! I do have no doubts about that. We will see your name etched beneath the tombstones of many Alliance dogs yet.
Aziris sits on the bench, statuesque, merely watching the exchange.
[Khorvis]: And yet, if the same horror did be visited upon those you did pledge to defend...
[Kelgrave]: We are a people defined by horrors.
[Khorvis]: Well, I do be no great scholar of Forsaken anatomy. May be there could be some way to fix it?
Kelgrave puts a finger to the underside of his chin in thought.
Aziris ' mouth turns up in the barest of smirks at that.
Aziris wonders if this dreadguard, respected as they are for battle skills, would know more than her about healing or Forsaken physiology.
[Kelgrave]: I'm no scholar of the Apothecarium, High Inquisitor. The exact nature of our condition, how it might be inflicted or restored, is not my area of speciality.
Kelgrave twists his back, indicating to his shield.
Aziris smiles at Kelgrave.
Khorvis grinds his tusks, clearly on edge. "So be it. Then it will require more wisdom to solve that ... unmentionable pile, outside of our gates."
Aziris stands up smoothly from her seat.
[Aziris]: Look again, Inquisitor. You have not been to your own gates recently enough.
[Khorvis]: Hrmph?
[Aziris]: Your victims are numbered and accounted for, and entombed safely to the north in Deathknell. All but one.
[Khorvis]: What?!
Kelgrave cocks his head to the side. "Did you say 'victims'?"
Aziris nods at Kelgrave.
[Khorvis]: She speaks the truth.
[Kelgrave]: You'll have to forgive my ignorance--my deployments of late have taken me far from Brill and the homeland.
[Khorvis]: I did, in my foolish wanderings from the Mandate, commit a great crime against our own.
[Kelgrave]: What 'crime', High Inquisitor?
Khorvis looks at Kelgrave, in his boney and undead state.
Kelgrave peers intensely at Khorvis, brow furrowed beneath his helm.
Khorvis dispenses with complicated words and half-truths. "I did commandeer a full battalion of Dreadguards from the Bulwark. We assembled Brill villagers that I did identify as guilt-ridden, and marched them to the gates of the Grim Halls."
[Khorvis]: I did flay the life from each of their bones.
Aziris confirms with a slow nod.
Kelgrave 's weapon hand tightens into a fist, then relaxes slightly, then clenches again.
Kelgrave says, strained, through gritted teeth, "Guilty of what?"
[Khorvis]: Crimes against the Horde. Though my true quarry did evade me. The one responsible for the murder of brother Lupinum.
[Khorvis]: I still do seek that one.
Khorvis watches Kelgrave's reaction. He remains squarely footed, unarmored and armed with only his carving knife.
Kelgrave is struggling beneath his soldierly exterior. "How many--how many did you murder, in pursuit of your 'quarry'?"
[Khorvis]: I ...
[Kelgrave]: How many, High Inquisitor?
Khorvis fails to recall this hole in his memory. "Those weeks do be very foggy. I was ... not myself. A fel thing, that." He looks to Aziris.
[Khorvis]: You do seem familiar with this event, Aziris. May be you can answer the Dreadguard's question.
Kelgrave looks at Aziris, yellow eyes blazing.
[Kelgrave]: Answer the question.
[Kelgrave]: How many of my countrymen did the High Inquisitor murder?
[Aziris]: I did not count the Scarlets. Thirty-five of ours lay lifeless in the crypt.
Kelgrave spins, as if struck in the shoulder by a bullet.
[Kelgrave]: says, slowly, "Thirty-five, all by the High Inquisitor's hand?"
[Aziris]: His alone? No...
Khorvis crosses his arms. "The Lash did be a powerful took."
Khorvis coughs again. Another round of bloody spittle.
[Kelgrave]: Does the Dark Lady know? Know who is responsible?
Aziris shoots Kelgrave a look of pure incredulity at such a dumb question.
[Khorvis]: Supplicant Kelgrave.
[Khorvis]: There do be only one force on Azeroth able to weigh and judge my actions.
[Khorvis]: He do be your Commander. Awatu Stonespire.
Kelgrave grits his teeth, but listens.
[Aziris]: Beware, orc. The Forgotten Shadow teaches that you must hold respect for your peers and superiors in power, lest they take notice and vanquish their rivals.
[Khorvis]: The Mandate has forged its own law. So long as you do carry our banner, there do be no other law to chain you.
Aziris does not argue, merely gives her advice and quiets.
Khorvis glares at Aziris and her dark words of the Shadow.
Kelgrave sizes up the armor-less orc.
[Kelgrave]: Against my better judgement, allow me to declare my loyalties and make them abundantly clear...
Aziris knows better than to interfere in anything regarding Grim.
[Kelgrave]: I swore to serve the Mandate, and I. Serve. The fucking Mandate. My Queen commanded it and I have made it my sole purpose until nothing remains of me to champion it.
Khorvis accepts Marius's tirade with as much grace as he can muster.
[Kelgrave]: Consider my Trial of Sacrifice to be that I am sacrificing the justice that I would be duty-bound as a soldier of the Forsaken to show you were the Mandate not able to stay my hand.
Aziris tilts her head at Kelgrave.
Khorvis bows his head, his neck exposed to Kelgrave's vision.
[Kelgrave]: It is by the Mandate, and the Mandate only, that I don't rip you asunder until not even the maggots could find a meal.
Kelgrave draws his axe, clenches it for a moment, then hurls it into the trunk of the twisted tree nearby.
[Kelgrave]: Peace through annihilation. May you someday find the peace you so richly deserve.
[Khorvis]: I do not doubt your fervor for your countrymen, Marius. It do be commendable. Remember that I do, in the small hours of the watch, offer up my sleeplessness to their memory.
Aziris now scowls.
[Aziris]: Their memory?
[Aziris]: How DARE you.
[Aziris]: You failed to even recognize me, and you claim to remember?
[Khorvis]: You do be right, Aziris.
Aziris stops.
[Khorvis]: One still remains.
Aziris glares angrily at Khorvis.
[Khorvis]: How did you escape the Lash?
[Aziris]: I didn't.
Kelgrave stops his pacing and turns to look at Aziris.
[Khorvis]: I did not believe so. Those tattoos ... they do look familiar.
[Khorvis]: I do recall the barbs and chains flaying their likeness in the moonlight.
[Khorvis]: Do you be a spectre come back to haunt me?!
[Aziris]: You deserve it, but don't so highly of yourself. You are not worth my time.
Kelgrave leans on the pommel of his axe, still sunk into the tree.
[Khorvis]: What ... what being patched you together, then?
[Khorvis]: The field was nothing but scraps.
[Aziris]: A group of tauren. One I thought must be undead herself, and one of silver. I do not know if your Lupinum assisted or not. He was there when I opened my eyes.
[Khorvis]: And brother Lupinum had faith enough in your corpse to steer it to the Mandate...
[Khorvis]: Supplicant Kelgrave. What would you do with this one?
Khorvis points at Aziris.
Kelgrave considers his words.
Aziris looks to Kelgrave, unsure what Khorvis means by that.
Aziris ' shield shimmers briefly, stronger.
[Kelgrave]: Induct her as a Supplicant. Task her with the Trials. If she is to haunt you, which you are more than deserving of, then she can do so in service to the Mandate.
[Kelgrave]: And...
Aziris listens intently to Kelgrave.
[Kelgrave]: You will see that whomever reclaimed her from the clutches of true death is given whatever resources they require to see it done to all who fell at your hand.
[Khorvis]: A fitting end. I accept it. At least the first. The second... well, that do be a matter I think will come back to haunt us another night.
[Khorvis]: Aspirant Aziris, do you take up the mantle of the Mandate as your own?
Aziris glances to Kelgrave, then back to Khorvis. She nods gently.
[Khorvis]: If knowledge do be what you seek, then there do be an abundance within the tomes of our Archives.
[Khorvis]: Aka'mogosh, Supplicant Aziris.
[Khorvis]: Lok'tar, Supplicant Aziris.
Aziris nods again.
[Aziris]: What happens now?
[Khorvis]: You will report directly to me. The first trial is of Combat.
[Aziris]: Yes, yes, to demonstrate competence.
[Aziris]: Do I choose the task, or will I receive an assignment?
[Khorvis]: Choose it on your own. I expect it to teach you of our Grim past and may be answer that infernal question in your bloody skull.
Khorvis eyes both Aziris and Kelgrave as if they were spectres come ahaunting.
Kelgrave looks at Aziris, wondering what the question was.
Aziris allows herself a smile at Khorvis. It is not one of pleasantry.
[Khorvis]: I will add one small step to whatever you do choose.
Aziris listens.
[Khorvis]: Take two of your Forsaken countrymen with you. It will do you some good to see that some of your own can keep the Mandate despite the chaos and madness of our world.
Aziris glances to Kelgrave.
Kelgrave nods at Aziris.
Aziris nods at Khorvis.
[Aziris]: Understood.
[Khorvis]: Mok'rah, Supplicants.
[Khorvis]: Do not forget your axe, Marius.
Kelgrave , with some venom, "High Inquisitor."
Aziris watches Khorvis go.
Kelgrave pulls his axe from the tree, withdrawing with a sucking sound.
[Aziris]: Marius, hmm?
Kelgrave nods. "Marius Kelgrave."
[Aziris]: I am Aziris Faithshade.
[Kelgrave]: It's a pleasure to meet you, and doubly so to having you back among the unliving.
Kelgrave glances in the direction that Khorvis left in.
[Aziris]: Indeed
[Aziris]: Is it true, that the Grim answer to none but themselves?
[Khorvis]: *coughs violently* All do be well, Bloodscream? That axe swings true?
[Kelgrave]: As the High Inquisitor still yet draws breath, it would seem so.
Aziris glares, though not at Kelgrave. She nods.
[Kelgrave]: I can't say I agree with the Inquisitor's decision for you to report directly to him. Distasteful dynamic, murderer supervising the victim.
[Drinn]: Is there any other way to swing an axe?
Kelgrave shrugs. "But it's not my decision to make."
[Khorvis]: Aye, you could stab it into a tree.
[Kelgrave]: <snorts>
[Aziris]: I am not concerned. It will not be the first time a superior has also been a source of danger. I am a Juni- an ex-Junior Apothecary.
[Drinn]: But that's stabbing, not swinging.
[Drinn]: Poor choice of weaponary then, if you ask me.
Kelgrave nods. "Will you resume your duties with the Apothecarium, in addition to taking up the Mandate?"
[Bloodscream]: Eh, if you don't like axes, you aren't using them right.
[Aziris]: No. I've lost the position due to my absence. All my research is lost... equipment gone...
[Drinn]: I prefer my swords and daggers.
Aziris smiles at Kelgrave. "No. I never enjoyed the cutthroat dynamic to begin with. I'll continue my studies solitary."
[Khorvis]: There do be nothing more satisfying that using fists!
[Kelgrave]: The Halls should be able to furnish whatever materials you require, however.
[Aziris]: I'm counting on it!
Kelgrave smiles, for the first time in this entire encounter.
Aziris gestures with a sweeping hand to her poor attire.
[Kelgrave]: Ah. Afraid I can't advise you there.
Kelgrave raps on his legplates twice.
[Drinn]: Mm, I really cannot argue against that.
[Bloodscream]: Fists is for friends, axes is for killin.
[Aziris]: Or whips.
[Khorvis]: *seethes*
[Khorvis logs off]
[Bloodscream]: Whips is for people who want axes in their face... but that's just me.
Aziris smiles again. "I would be a poor Forsaken indeed if I did not plan for such unforseen events. I am not quite so helpless as I currently appear, worry not."
[Kelgrave]: Death didn't stop us before, and you, not even a second time. I'm not worried in the slightest.
[Aziris]: Will you accompany me, to whatever task I choose to attempt?
[Aziris]: I shall have to give it some thought.
[Kelgrave]: Of course, whenever you have chosen.
[Aziris]: Thank you.
Kelgrave nods at Aziris.
[Drinn]: I would avoid the word 'whip' around our Inquisitor if I were you, orc.
Aziris tilts her head at Kelgrave slowly. "Would you really kill him, if you were not Grim?"
Aziris steps back lightly to settle in a seat on the bench.
[Bloodscream]: You can't possibly be talking to me lad...
Kelgrave folds his arms. "Only the Dark Lady herself has the authority to release us from Her service."
[Aziris]: I know elves are somewhat dimorphous, but her voice is distinctly feminine. Perhaps a cleaning of the ears would be wise?
[Bloodscream]: All elves sound like girls to me but they get really mad when I get it wrong... the lady elves mind less... I hedge my bets.
[Drinn]: I most certainly am talking to you.... lad..<she clips the word bluntly>. I would listen to Supplicant as they seem to prove more wise then yourself.
[Bloodscream]: Wow, this is a thing innit? I'm not sure who the fuck you think you are talking to but I'm certain if Khorvis has a problem with me he won't have a problem speaking up for himself.
[Drinn]: Blah, blah blah. 'Dorei insult.. blah, blah. How very moving an original. <snorts.
Kelgrave listens to the exchange on the communicator.
Aziris smiles to herself, doing the same.
[Aziris]: It is only orders that brought you to these colors, dreadguard?
[Drinn]: It seems Khorvis has moved away from his stone for the moment. And as for who the 'fuck' I am... You can refer to me as your Tactician.
Kelgrave shakes his head. "I did not move for the Grim until ordered, but I did harbor a desire to have a more... free hand, to pursue the Alliance than my Dreadguard deployments offered."
[Shaelie]: It sounds like somebody made a terrible mistake.
[Bloodscream]: Ya but it's still up in the air who that is.
Aziris nods at Kelgrave.
[Aziris]: Understandable.
[Shaelie]: I'm betting on the new blood
[Kelgrave]: Certain events--<he sweeps his arms wide, gesturing to the surroundings>--have perhaps tempered my enthusiasm, but I'll serve the Mandate despite.
[Aziris]: Ah.
[Aziris]: Therein lies my own draw to the Mandate, in point of fact.
[Kelgrave]: What *does* one seek from taking up service in the company of your murderer?
[Aziris]: Answers. Knowledge. Understanding.
[Kelgrave]: The Kirin Tor pursue the same. Why the Grim?
[Bloodscream]: ...and for clarity, I never asked who the fuck you were, I asked who the fuck you thought you were talking to...
[Drinn]: Up in the air... <tsks> It's good to know you pay attention to whom your Dreadweavers are. Be that as it may, I do not need to swing titles. Should you want to swing metal as an introduction I'll be happy to make your acquaintance.
[Aziris]: Specifically- what kind of bond do the Grim have, to have made Khorvis so angry as to attack innocents in retribution?
[Bloodscream]: Eh eh, put it back in your pants, I don't fight Grim, never have, never will.
[Drinn]: Oh, well in that case, I think I'm fucking to talking a drooling git that runs off at the mouth.
[Aziris]: Would you not wish to have someone like that to mourn your own passing? If not so misdirected, then at least as strong in fervor?
[Bloodscream]: SO noted dipshit, we don't have to be friends.
[Aziris]: Do you know what happened when I did not report to work following the attack?
[Malhavik]: Oh my, what a fun time to to tune in my hearthstone!
Kelgrave listens.
[Drinn]: Aww... <she cooes> Let's hug it out Orcy. I'm sure we'll be grand friends.
[Aziris]: My notes were stolen, my equipment divvied to my rivals, and my effects sent from my quarters to who-knows-where, probably sold or also stolen.
[Aziris]: I may as well not exist.
[Aziris]: And it isn't because my work was inferior.
[Bloodscream]: Strangers things have happened...
Kelgrave puts a finger to the bottom of his chin for a moment, then offers, "The Forsaken are nothing if not efficient, I suppose."
[Aziris]: Yes, well.
[Aziris]: I am a believer also in the Forgotten Shadow, the first tenet of which is Power. The Grim have it.
[Kelgrave]: No question.
[Aziris]: I want it too. I am done playing by conventional rules. If that means I have to walk over a few human corpses to get it... well.
Aziris grins wickedly at Kelgrave.
Kelgrave smiles and nods. "You'll fit right in."
[Kelgrave]: Hopefully with less baying over the communicator.
Aziris smiles.
[Aziris]: That was not my doing, I merely enjoyed the entertainment.
[Kelgrave]: I know. May you continue to be a calm voice in a sea of malcontents.
Aziris has another thought occur to her.
[Aziris]: How long has the Inquisitor been ill?
[Kelgrave]: I don't know, nor am I much aware of the nature of his illness beyond what we heard here. It's from before when I took up the Mandate.
[Aziris]: When was that?
[Kelgrave]: Perhaps three weeks prior.
[Kelgrave]: I am a Supplicant like yourself.
Aziris does some quick figuring. "Unlikely to be lingering fel corruption then. His attack was two months ago."
[Kelgrave]: Maybe his guilty's rotting him from the inside out.
[Aziris]: The world, unfortunately, is not generally so accommodating.
Kelgrave shrugs. "Wishful thinking."'
[Aziris]: I do appreciate your timely arrival. It is good to know that someone else is aware of what he has done.
[Aziris]: I do not know how many others may be revived...
[Kelgrave]: We'll see if the High Inquisitor is willing to offer up more to right this wrong than his sound-sleeping.
[Aziris]: Actually... I may prescribe him medication for that, if it truly is as he says. Sleep deprivation is well-documented to cause temporary madness. I for one do not wish to experience that a second time.
[Kelgrave]: Fair point, but good luck getting him to accept something offered by a 'spectre'.
[Aziris]: Perhaps his guilt will force him to agree. A conscience is a fickle thing.
[Aziris]: Regardless...
[Aziris]: I have some traveling to do, and thinking as well, on the matter of this trial.
[Aziris]: Which trial are you attempting?
[Kelgrave]: Combat, like you. The High Inquisitor has tasked me with achieving an unbroken chain of twenty kills during a single skirmish on the battlefield.
Aziris eyes Kelgrave's weapons, and stance.
[Aziris]: I do not doubt your skill. You have not accomplished this yet?
Kelgrave shakes his head. "Easier said than done. Carrying a big shield makes me a big target."
[Aziris]: How many menders do you take with you?
[Kelgrave]: The more, the better! Usually one or two, in the last few outings.
[Aziris]: Perhaps we can mutually benefit each other. We shall see.
Kelgrave nods. "I'll leave you to your considerations until then."
Aziris curtseies delicately before Kelgrave.
Kelgrave salutes Aziris with respect.
Kelgrave whistles sharply.