The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[NPCs]

The servant shrugs a little. "I suspect it's used to people around it being alive, simply don't expect it to pretend itself?"

[Carver Amell]

"Um, cool... Okay." Carver nods. I'm going to fuck this up. Fuck me.

[NPCs]

"Very good sir." With a bow, the servant departs. A few minutes later, the door opens and a black, ragged cloak slips into the room. The temperature drops a good ten degrees, and the sunlight coming into the room dims by at least a third. "Lord zi'Amell. It is good that your line continues to die slowly." Its voice is rusty, worn, but smooth and somehow pleasing to the ear.

[Carver Amell]

"Uh. I mean, I'm fonder of slowly than rapidly so... thanks?" says Carver, frowning a little. "I mean, thank you, sir." A pause. "Do you prefer Sir? Or... what's the it version of sir?"

[NPCs]

"You seek to bring an end to your ignorance. Very Aldyrean of you," it says with a chuckle, drifting over towards the desk. It doesn't sit, instead lifting higher into the air. Hands emerge from the tattered cloak, dull reddish brown metal gauntlets, and clasp opposite forearms. "I may addressed with the titles of Light Sage, Sage, Archlich, Transient or Carnelian Eclipse. A polite polite honorific that can be used mid sentence, is lich. For example, 'Welcome, Transient zi'Aghayan, to my home. Would you like to sit, lich?' The answer to which would be 'no, but thank you' if you were curious."

[Carver Amell]

"Ah, right, thank you, Transient Eclipse." A pause. "That was wrong, wasn't it?"

[NPCs]

"It was." The tone of voice is unchanged at least. "The titles are not meant to be blended. Do not... mix and match."

[Carver Amell]

"I'm sorry. I'll just... I'll just stick to Sage then?" he says, blushing. "Right. Ah. Thank you for visiting my home, Sage zi'Aghayan."

[NPCs]

"Thank you, Merchant zi'Amell." It regards him for a moment, then laughs again. "You are handling this meeting well. Your mother screamed, throw a cookie at me, then fainted. It was... annoying."

[Carver Amell]

He winces. "Yes, that sounds like Mother. I hope that doesn't happen to you often?" 

[NPCs]

The lich seems to consider that for a moment. "Not often when I do not wish it."

[Carver Amell]

"Did you... want my mother to throw a cookie at you?"

[NPCs]

"Her voice was grating."

[Carver Amell]

He winces again. "That... also sounds like Mother, yes. Um, sorry, this probably isn't why you came here?"

[NPCs]

"You assume correctly. I am politically allied with your bloodline. Will you be continuing this arrangement or has this too come to it's eventual end?"