[His interest piques, a smile on his mouth.] I know something of Dogs and of Death, they are patrons both of my order. Should I be on my knees then, dark one?
My entire monastery would bow before you, my emperor as well, but if you will not have it, I will not trouble you with it. Though I have not spent my life beneath the Ghost Dog's star to turn my worship from it now. I led an army in your name, I can only hope the carnage pleased you.
The Rats and the Crocodiles have been known to change their minds, but those under my stewardship do indeed strive to meet Death with dignity and reverence. The retention of intellect after death is how it is written in our pillars.
[Followed by a cheeky little smile. Men are not known for their dignity either but they do so like to strive for appearances.]
Effort, meditation, the hope is to leave our knowledge imprinted on our minds, if not our souls, so that when our brothers have need of our bodies again we will not be such base, shambling creatures as to be of no use.
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You and your people bow before Death? And what happens when it comes to claim you? Do you still worship then?
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The Rats and the Crocodiles have been known to change their minds, but those under my stewardship do indeed strive to meet Death with dignity and reverence. The retention of intellect after death is how it is written in our pillars.
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And how is this 'retention' of yours accomplished?
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Effort, meditation, the hope is to leave our knowledge imprinted on our minds, if not our souls, so that when our brothers have need of our bodies again we will not be such base, shambling creatures as to be of no use.
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So the dead look to walk again. To walk and have purpose.
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But mortal bodies were made to be temporary. Walk, if you wish it. Hold onto your sacred knowledge. But rot in the process.
And the Black Dog will be satisfied.
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I would think nothing else appropriate.
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