Eternal Wither

The immortal come in many forms, and take to their role in many ways. Perhaps the most common, revered and reviled among the immortal are the Liches: their eventual mastery over their spirit affords them the ability to bend any vessel to their will, slowing the aging process to a near halt and becoming eternal in the process... or at least, as eternal as their soul can manage.

Indeed, while some immortals retain every last drop of their humanity and remain vital and... well, 'themselves' for their endless lives, others do not take to it so well. The soul has only so much vitality to spare, and if it is not managed, cared for and replenished, eventually it begins to decay from the inside out.

Fran, for their part, is one such case. No one is around now who could tell the stories of how they were when they were younger. Centuries have come and gone in the intervening time, but it seems relatively certain that the charismatic and gregarious creature supposedly responsible for forming the Black Rail is no longer that.

Eroded by the mere viciousness of life, especially the one that they'd chosen for themselves, Fran's soul has steadily withered. Their professional kindness and courtesy became a droll, commanding monotone, even if they speak with a hint of a fake smile. They have become more obsessive, more controlling, more vulnerable to the darkest parts of their soul that they might have once been able to keep in check.

So it goes, for many immortals. Longer lived though they may be, an immortal's soul is inherently no grander and no more resilient than a simple mortal's. Centuries of the trauma, loss, and work that grind others to dust can claim an immortal just as well, aging their soul even if their body doesn't seem to notice the change. Fran's capacity to feel joy and excitement has been dimmed by the mere rote repetition of experiencing all that their chosen life has to offer, and now they can only feel contempt and rage for anything that dares to make their already dull routines even worse.

They still care to live, to preserve themselves and to preserve their work. Perhaps that is all they care about now, with the capacity for deeper pursuits wrung out of them. It is all they have, and all they care to have, and they will defend it like a wild animal.