lorthnoldt bullies a young krausite

Isaiah takes a seat. He rubbed his brow. The death that just happened before him... It weighed heavily on his body. Heavily on his soul, his being.

Still. Words rang out to him from a place he did not understand.

 The past is something to learn from. We can only move forward- And not make the same mistakes we did before.

The words pulsed in his head- Hard enough to hurt his entire upperbody- He didn't know where they came from. But they came in like a storm. Like a memory he had lost... Returning to him through the ash and smoke.

"...Lorthnoldt...?" He questioned, trying to gain his composure back, trying to act normal despite the very obvious out of the ordinary actions just previous. He himself? Chalked it up to the pain of loss.
(Isaiah Dawn)

Lucan has entered Olander's Clinic.

If the woman felt loss, she did not show it.

Perhaps she preferred to show nothing. Despite not being all that tall, the woman was like an intimidating titan of iron and gentle, frizzling green highlights, the metal mask only slightly muffling obvious, angry pants. There was a fury, now, a lava hot boiling turmoil within the woman's own inner core.

Spiritually, she was betrayed.

"Now, listen here- Isaiah Dawn. What was the one thing I told to never accept as I took the risk to let you develop and hone your skills, perhaps learn for once what possibly kind of Magi you could turn into?"

She only paused for effect, not expecting a real answer. She stood and paced near him now, the mere stench of the occult possibly repelling him form the woman. She was the opposite. The shade.

"Do not listen to their ramblings. The Krausites. The people who betray existence, the people who keep our souls in an infinite cycle of suffering, who end life prematurely, who would rather DESTROY the sacred- The one who abandoned us, Kraus, is praised. The one who encourages 'life' but instead would rather us die in an infinite loop of suffering?"

Clawed gauntlets gently rested on the tablespace in front of Isaiah. They ground into it like butter.

"No," there was a disgusted laugh, meddling, perhaps out of anger, "No, it is not right. Do you know what the Krausites have done on this island, Isaiah? They steal people like Amoxtli. They raze my people. They do not accept that fact that death is not meant to be swift. They do not understand the holiness of the undead, do you understand? They would rather KILL innocents in the name of their missing god rather than the great angel who dared fight for us at all-

Azrael."

It was a miracle her hand did not go through the entire table already. "Azrael. He who dared tried to understand the suffering of us, humans, forced to fend for ourselves in the self devouring world of Kraus' creation. We could not mold it ourselves, but he could. He died for us. He waits for us. A true angel, the true new god of the world, the man who- Only cared for life in his own, true way-"

Lips were licked under the mask, try. Her occultic aura rose. Hatred. Burning, absolute vengeance. "So then, tell me, Isaiah-"

"Why would you dare, DARE, step toward me and ever say, that the Krausites, the same who slaughter, kill, end life prematurely- The same Krausites who invaded Avalon and killed hundreds, or perhaps the Krausites of Jianghu who simply WATCHED my people be razed and Avalon's buildings to crumble to the hands of SAVAGES who believe in evil spirits--

The same..."

The gauntlet went straight through the table, now. Occultic energy ebbed and flew off of her, burning to the holy touch of the younger man.

"The same believers of Kraus who watched as the Bulwark faltered and were slaughtered by the savages of Gehenna.

The same who slew my parents.

The s a m e.

Bloody.

Krausites."
(Lorthnoldt)


Lorthnoldt says, "You will not have a reasonable explanation, young man. You will not. After all, no slave of Kraus could explain why they allow themselves to be /whipped/."
You have gone AFK.

You are no longer AFK.

So this was what it was like, to be scorned by ones mother.

She was, after all, the closest thing he had to a mother. Or at least, a caretaker. He turned towards her, staring up at the woman who spoke down to him- Who spoke of the Krausites- Those who murdered. Those who stole, who took, who butchered.

He closed his eyes, and understood. Listening to her words. Listening to her story. He watched her hands- Those of rage, those of anger- Burn through the wooden table, right through it- The flames that consumed her in a blaze of power.

Her burning, absolute vengance. Her flames of occultist magic were like fire that whipped at his skin- The heat was a burn, that licked as his flesh.

However... Though her words were powerful. Though they weighed down on him like ten ton weights... He had to sit back and speak to her regardless. He had to speak to her in a calm, polite fashion. He'd not give himself into the same occult magic she dipped into.

Rage would not dictate his actions. He turned back towards the table for a moment, as he spoke. He wouldn't look her in the eyes. Not. Yet.

"I've learned a lot of things over the last three years, Lorthnoldt. But there are three things that I've begun to value more and more over anything else." He said softly.

"One. My friends, my family- Are my strength. My power. They are the guiding factor for my actions- The weight I hold on my shoulders. For every punishment they'd take, I'd take a hundred more to save them the pain." He said, the half of a table still left his only hold for his arms.

"Two. Nobody is born evil, and nobody is born good. The choices we make, the people we are around- How we are raised... That's what decides who, or what we become." He explained, glancing down to his hands.

"And three. All life is sacred. Evil. Good. There is no such thing, in my mind, as someone who deserves death. At least- None that I have ever met." He said, as he finally looked back over at her.

"I don't believe death is ever the answer. But... Should death, ever become forced upon someone. I believe in Kraus. Kraus will bring those who are innocent- Those who do not deserve death- To a new life." He said, as he looked up at her.

"Murder. Butchering. Killing innocents, and evil alike. I do not believe in those things. I do not associate myself, with those who hurt you, or your family, or anyone on this world. I do not follow Kraus as a priest. I do not follow a book, or a church. I do not get on my knees and pray towards him." He said, as he glanced over at the table.

"Krausite... Perhaps I should have worded it better. Perhaps I'm cherry picking it. I believe that all life should be free to come back, and experience life for as long as they wish. For as many times as they wish. You believe reincarnation is torture. I respectfully disagree." He said, before glancing back up at her.

"But I'd never lift a finger against your or anyone else who thinks that. Understand my choice, and understand- I am not the people who killed your parents. I'm not the monster who seeks to take life. I believe in an ideal- Something that Kraus does- The reincarnation of a soul. That is what makes me a Krausite." He said, as he stared up at her- Still not lifting a hand. Still not lifting a finger.
(Isaiah Dawn)

LOOC - Randy: [ He is the tin ]

You have gone AFK.

You are no longer AFK.

Holier than thou little bugger.

The woman aura flickered, infected, covered every inch of her dark armor. Green, black. The dark arts. The perfect Azraelite. Everything her parents would've wanted. Everything the Bulwark would've desired.

Everything that was taken away from her.

There was a moment of respite and abatement after his last moment of speech, the woman's deep green slits where empty jade eyes glared out from as still as stone. That is, before the aura flared like gas added to a great bonfire, and the entire table was thrown across the room in a CRASH, splintered wood from the mere force it was thrown at thrown everywhere like shrapnel.

The recoil of such did not phase Lorthnoldt, the smith not even regarding the sharp chips that flicked uselessly against her armor. "If life is sacred," She snarled, laughing in the misery that surrounded her. The hypocrisy of the earth she treaded, that the mud that swallowed her boots was the same created by a being that cared not a single mite for her. Not for her, no, "Then why do we take it at all? Reincarnation is a prison. Whether it is the Illuminated's faulty belief of karma, or the Krausites church of reincarnation, it is a curse. A prison. Those of good innocence are STOLEN from us, but- With His art, Isaiah, we don't lose anyone."

The power was immense. The boiling emotion. The absolute animosity of a woman who defied fate of something out of her control. The aura gently calmed, her displeasure yet to fade.

"There is no understanding. Kraus is a slippery slope," Her breathing became rapid. She was getting close to his face. A masked monster. The woman who merely wanted to be a hero for her angel. "First, reincarnation is correct. Then they begin culling those who think otherwise. Then, we begin the war all over again.

They trapped us in Eternia- But that does mean you must bow like the slaveyou are!" Her aura, scorching to him, was only getting closer. More furious. Resentment. Ire. Enmity.

"There is no need for NEW LIFE! New life is produced for those who bring it into the world- Not for those slain and brought into some deformed amalgamation back into it. No, Isaiah, death is not justified, not for anything, no. Not while we have the capability to PREVENT their passage toward Kraus' eternal cycle.

NECROMANCY, ISAIAH.

Necromancy is our key. To forever keep those loves ones whom we lost too early, the people who should've never passed, an eternal, self-sufficient force for completely moving toward the end goal- Returning Azrael. Ensuring the realm is brought a new era of peace, salvation-- Eternal life.

Undead are beautiful, Isaiah. They are beautiful. They are a production of this entire concept. Of defying the will of a being who cares NOTHING of the souls you say are, being recycled purely to bepushed back into existence. That is all they are. Recycled. He has no better solution than eternal suffering. He left us to fend against Yokai and Demons of horrors unimaginable.

Yet.

There is salvation in Azrael."

She slowly backed away, now. The wood she touched curled and aged, rotting like a dead tree.

"And if this is the path I had to take to ensure more progress toward the better world, than so be it. They would understand. While I may not preach his name fully in public- I am no priest in robes- I am his angel.

And the angel will ensure souls are lead to a new haven which will be molded from Eternia. I refuse to abandon hope like you do, falling for the tricks of a god long since beyond caring."

She ripped the carpet with each step, now, looking toward the door. Another boot slammed forward.

"May it cost everything- His day will come. And no amount of passive slaves of Kraus will stand in His way."