|Sphere(s):||Death, Judgment, Spirit|
Life is but a trial, a test for the spirit of all that lives balanced against
the ideal. It is hope seeking true perfection in its truest form; all rising
from those divine sparks of spirit. The form and spark, only seen through the
mists of possibility, is reflected down into the mortal world. These hopes are
faced with the threats of chaos and darkness, all seeking to corrupt and
defile turning a hope of perfection into a twisted shadow not worthy of the
Death waits down every mortal path, be it at the end today or in hundreds of years. Death waits patiently, letting the life run what course, what choices it will. Death need not be feared or hated; simply, it is part the natural conclusion. What was given will eventually return from whence it came, that divine spark and all it has learned. The form and spark, joined together at the beginning must be judged by every act. And at the end comes this final judgment, where so few-too few are judged worthy.
The scales are weighed for each soul, whether brought early or dying in their bed, the spark will return to whence it came. Just as death will wait, so will Marcatis until the natural time has come. Few can remain true enough to all that is good and orderly to stare into the mirror, to truly be judged. For those few, Marcatis holds hope. For others with goodness and decency, or stalwart hearts, there is a sliver of possibility. Some, however, seek to defy death and grasp unlife, attempting to horde what is not theirs to keep. These abominabrtions fear judgment and will find no succor.
Seek out Lord Marcatis in farmlands lost to a barren darkness.