A madman's Wisdom

(A character related post. This is of Zeriveth and his meeting with Dalanor before the last adventure.)

They came to me. They always came to me. An empty whore. Water in the wastes. First was the princess. Hypnotic breasts. Hot flesh. No distraction it was to this one. Questions of forgiveness. But not from this one. No, from a father. A devil perhaps, or perhaps the creator of her world. Closed off and abandoned. Forgotten graves. Two Scars is the salvation! and the Damnation! to kill one is to save another. Sacrifice is not without its Sacrifice. The name as it says, it is. No one sees. Not even the princess. Doomed as she is, even in salvation, even in damnation. Doomed as she is. Silver elf. But not of silver. Of pale, pasted flesh. White hair and cold ambition. No luster, no intelligence. Dull crude ore fallen in mud. Talks to this one about magic and owls, about salvation and damnation. Stupid questions from a stupid mind. Needing directions to the front door. Needing advice on that already known by everyone. Asking that which need not be asked. Questions this ones sanity? Questions the magic of this one? I smell death on it. Death and weakness on an already deceased elf. To live forever is to be a zombie. All the silver elves are dead. Long dead. Better forgotten. Frost hisses and this one talks. Talking about pretty things and silver words. Better to talk about something than be eaten for nothing. Frost. Deadly frost. "I will gobble you up savior" he said to me. He said this of my precious head. I need this part of me, and so i spoke silken words to the silken elf. Let him be forgotten and dead. Let him part this world as he wants to be. Glorified in his own magnificence. Fire does this thing. This one has fire. Much fire to give to the zombie elf. He will return. Ania watches. Frost feasts. Careful. Careful.

(and thats that)