RE: Animated Quest 3

To clarify, the small green lizard is the one that talked about the spirits.

Ah, you're right. I meant Yesh, not Galblassa.

Well, you have quite the roster of companions for conversation for once, but granted the older lady is presently keeping the organic death machine on course and Galblassa is holding up the rear, you decide instead to strike up a conversation with the beady eyed gentleman who keeps starting at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

Is it even a gentleman? You were never quite as sure with the goodly lizard folk as you would like.

“Pardon,” you say. “Yesh, wasn’t it?” You get a surprised jump as he turns to look at you. “I couldn’t help but here mention of an uncle of yours. Gethro, wasn’t it? Was he a shaman or oracle of some kind? A thrower of bones and reader of stars?”

“Ha!” calls the old woman. “That idiot couldn’t tell a star chart from the bottom of his own keester!”

“Uncle Gethro was a good man,” Yesh answers, apparently unperturbed. “Though prone to certain… eccentricities. He went to join the ancestors early and left what wisdom and strength his spirit could offer in my care.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate to hear,” you console. “Though I must admit, your phrasing is a little odd. Could you elaborate?”

“Death will eventually come for everyone,” he says in that pleasant drone, “But when members of my family have died, their spirits remain with me rather than passing on to the other side. They are faint for the most part, but I can hear them whispering from beyond the veil and give them form with magic for a time if I have need. It is… convenient.”

“I see,” you say. “So a spirit shaman among the Aosh clan. Are there many of you?”

“Some,” he answers. “Though fewer in recent years. The spirits called them elsewhere.”

“So what is it like,” he now asks you, “being back on this side of the veil?”

> [] What do you say?

"Do know that feeling, of having come back to work and drudgery after having the most marvelous of vacations in the an utterly relaxing resort? Something of that sort. I apparently had lived a good enough life to have one of the nice afterlives, and even now the light of that distant shore calls to me.
"But I have things to do. Responsibilities to uphold. Regrets to mend.
"And of course, new songs and tales to hear and sing.
"One day, I shall go back. Yes...I shall go back. Until then, there must be no further regrets, no tears, no anxieties. I must move forward, and make right what I can."

Why it's terrific!

The sun on my old bones, a spring in my step, and a song in my...ribcage..

Just they way I like it.

“It’s a lot like having left a splendid vacation,” you say. “You know, basking in the eternal sun of some distant land on a warm sandy beach and then getting slammed back into the work and drudgery of this waking world. Apparently, I wasn’t so much a charlatan in the previous life so as to earn damnation.

“For the moment, however, I am content. It’s good to feel the real sun on these old bones, a spring in my step and a song in my… ribcage. Plenty to catch up on since I’ve been away, I’m sure, and it wouldn’t hurt to do a little bit of good while I’m up and about.”

“It is good to know that you are not back hungering for the flesh of the living instead,” he says. “That could prove troublesome.”

“Flesh of the living? Ha! I haven’t got the stomach for it!”

*Rattle Rattle*

“That is the condition many spirits strike with the gods of death to come back to this side,” he says. “Usually the only way they can do so without powerful magic becoming involved. Life for life, death for death. The scales must be balanced.”

“Well, I’ll let you know if I starting getting peckish,” you assure him. “Until then, I’m feeling fit as a fiddle.”

You continue swapping banter for some time, trying to peer into the depth of his craft and maybe learn a little bit about spiritual manipulation. Obviously, necromancy had never been something you had the chance to study, even the bonding rituals used by willing participants. And you quickly find yourself absorbed in trying to pick out the particulars of what makes his craft tick. You almost don’t even notice when the croc finally pulls to a stop, the dungeon looming in the distance.

“Well, let’s get a move on,” grunts the old lady as she lands on the ground. “We got a long night ahead of us.”

And that's where I will end it for tonight, folks. Probably the same bat time, same bat channel next week, though afterward, I'm going to try to start earlier and during the week. I know these late nights are hell on some people.

Alright, see you next week.
Thanks for running.

Thank you fo running.