Aye, same to you. You have an air about you, I sense your lust for blood is as great as mine. *bows slightly* Respect, for a fellow fighter~

~Moves her hand to her chest moving to one knee in front of the other onto a knelt bow~ Blood lust has nothing to do with it, it is survival alone, the weak perish the strong survive this is the way of things ~stands and looks at him with blood ruby eyes~

As long as you truly understand strength, I have nothing to add to that~ BEautifully said.

Strength holds beauty, but it can also destroy someone if not kept in check

And that control is what makes a warrior~

lack of control, makes a murderer or a Deathless depending on how you look at it.

Either way, someone will die, and I will become more powerful. You all squable here, in this pitiful war, while I collect, and guide...

And some even have the gall to try and challenge me. I will enjoy ripping out their insolent tongues.

I care nothing for this war, I never cared for the last one either... I came because I was drawn to it nothing more and nothing less. Then I would say you will have a hard time taking my tongue even though I myself have challenged you... but we shall see what the fates have in mind.

Aye, that we shall, that we shall.

In the meantime, I have lanterns to place.

the being dissipates, mist covering the ground. For a moment, there is silence, then a whispering fills the air, and lanterns appear on either side of the large battleground. The whispering grows into a roar of whispering voices, and clouds begin to cover the sky, the air turning damp, and a heavy fog rolling in. As the fog covers the ground, the whispering stops, and the lanterns flash a bright red, and then fall into a dark, crimson color as the fog dissipates and the being reappears, this time without his lanterns.

Ah, that is better~ I had to have the arena properly set.

~smiled~
Help guide them well

I will guide all those worthy, indeed. Whether they consider the place they are guided to to be well, is not my call. Nor do I care

You are the ferryman, you do not judge... you just do what you are told

He sighs, if that is what the noise could be called. The whispers flow slightly from where a mouth would be.

You may think what you will. You are but a passing fancy of life.

~sat under a tree and put her hands into the shadow bringing out a cup of hot tea~ A passing fancy of life... my life ended and I was given this curse, I do not hate it as such so longs I can keep some part of my mortality

Well, you have more life in you than you might think, though I understand enough of your race to know that you are but a semblance of what many consider to be "life".

"Oh yes eternal servitude do a deity who believes that more than ninety percent of your kind are failed" she would take a sip of her tea as she thought in the others words "We are neither alive, nor are we dead... we are caught in the realms, unable to be guided to where we should be" her eyes closing