Runes of Mokare's Grove

Mokare's grove had been left terribly untidy. The last time that he was here he had taken to burning the excess and carving the names of his family, but he needed to learn how it worked. How carving the name worked. It seemed that each person had thier own personal arrangement of unique characters that made up thier name. That in and of itself was an amazing feat of runewriting. As was Mokare's writing on the grove, since he was the first competent rune writer to rediscover the place, the grove was his to do with as he pleased.

He smiled as he took notes on the defensive runes that aligned everything. As he he reetched them carefully, renewing the place once more. It was his to take care of. But also his to use. Each and every rune was carefully taken note of and understood. He smiled as he looked at them. His knowledge of these things was increasing at a voracious pace. He went back to the fount of the Garden. Where the names were carved. He needed to repair it before the Grove became an out of control rampaging whole and mess.

He then thought about it. The fact that each soul had its own signature meant that these runes were essentially the key to what he sought to understand. He studied them with renewed vigor and attempt. HE wanted to know how this grove was able to both understand the specific signature and nature of a soul, as well as interact differently with that soul than with others. This was his new and consuming obsession.
(Vindictus)

He was making rapid progress. But he needed to see what these command runes did on others. Did on more sentient creatures. His mouth watered at hte implications. He needed something that removed men's souls, and he had something right here that coordinated directly with the soul of an individual. And written there he even had a few examples of names. Including his own. This could be his first real step in the right direction in order to achieve death magic for himself. He wasn't exactly trusting of others.

He smiled to himself. He was getting closer with every character that he understood and wrote. His designs more complex and unique. He was beginning his ascension to greater heights. Shinra would be worthy ally. Perhaps even a worthy lord to follow in this quest and this regard. He needed more knowledge in this. But he had his foothold into the workings and manipulation of runes about the soul.

Now he just needed runes that manipulated the soul rather than the other way around. He was sure that he could use this as a jumping off point for that. He knew that he could with this finally deliver the soul fortification that he had promised, but he needed to combine that ability to keep a soul in, with runes that would take it out for his greater aspirations.

Nevertheless, this was a suitable place to go from for himself. He was ready like he was never before. He opened his locket, staring at his beloved for a few moments before beginning to cry. He was doing everything he was doing for his family. For her. What is one man's damnation compared to the needs of the world? What is for one man to die to himself in order that he may save the rest? Nothing. Especially if he was already damned. He was of a house built by a depraved.

He would embrace the chaos. It was his to command and to take care of. He thought of this as he continued to take notes about that grove.
(Vindictus)