[Hall of the Deathbringers]
The expansive chamber is stark in both lighting and adornment.  A floor of pale sand offsets black walls.  Beams of light ricochet off the walls, although the source of the light isn't evident.  In the room's center, two altars sit opposite one another.  Behind them, carvings adorn the walls with scenes that are so old, their imagery is just ridges, gouges and basic shapes.  Frost rimes the edges of the carvings, adding a sense of antiquity to all.
Also here: Mitheirien, Zenaxa, High Lady Iscikella
Obvious exits: north, down

Zenaxa gazes in wonder at her surroundings.

Iscikella says, "Allright, take a seat."

Iscikella smiles.

Zenaxa says, "Impressive."

Zenaxa sits down.

Iscikella says, "Our lecturer today is Bablistia, who will speak to us on Amasalen."

Mitheirien sits down.

Iscikella says, "Please give her yer full attention."

Zenaxa turns to face you.

Mitheirien turns an inquisitive ear towards you.

Iscikella says, "And hold all questions and comments until she opens the floor for them."

Iscikella nods to you.

(Iscikella moves to the back of the room.)

Iscikella sits down.

You nod to Iscikella.

You say, "Thank you for the introduction."

You say, "I am here tonight to speak a bit about Amasalen, the Lord of the Blood."

Bablistia smiles wickedly.

Iscikella shivers.

Zenaxa leans forward.

You say, "As most already know, Amasalen was, before he was raised to immortality, a Faendryl elf.  How he ascended remains a mystery.  However, since he acknowledges Luukos as his overlord, it is likely that it was that Arkati who raised Amasalen above the sphere of lesser mortals."

You nod.

You say, "From my viewpoint, the important aspect of Amasalen is his recognition of the blood of the living as the source of all real power in the natural world.  This is the cornerstone of following the way of the Blood Lord."

 (Bablistia licks her lips with the tip of her tongue.)

You say, "From a philosophical standpoint, it may be easy to argue that power is ensconced in thought or emotional moralities.  But from a natural standpoint -- that is from the view of the world of mortals as a place teaming with the forces of life -- there can be little doubt that blood does hold a unique position with regard to the power of life."

You smirk.

You say, "It is the fluid that turns the body into a self-sustaining and continually renewing vessel of flesh.  It is the very medium of life itself."

Zenaxa ponders.

Iscikella shifts her weight.

You steeple your fingers, quietly observing your surroundings.

You say, "Amasalen's way teaches that the taking of blood from another living creature instills into the taker a portion of the living power of that creature.  And that the sharing of blood between living beings signifies a bond of power between the two."

 (Bablistia interlocks her fingers.)

You say, "For thus reason do those following the faith of Amasalen most often perform the ritual of wrist-slashing and the exchange of blood between partners in the marriage ceremony."

You say, "Blood-bonding."

You nod.

You say, "Likewise within the faith the position of teacher to student is formally acknowledged by the teacher precisely slashing his or her throat, either through use of a blade or through the auspices of magic, and then forcing the student to drink of the blood.  Such ritual is symbolic of the teacher's giving of his life power to the student, as well as of the student's submission to the power of the teacher."

Zenaxa leans forward and rests her chin in her hand, a thoughtful expression on her face.

(Bablistia presses a finger to the throat of the person nearest her.)

You say, "It is done here.  At a place that does not cause death, but which allows the life fluid to seep out."

You nod.

You notice Zenaxa watching you warily out of the corner of her eyes.

(Bablistia moves her finger away.)

You cough.

You say, "Amasalen himself is partial to sacrifices that revel in the power of blood.  Sacrificial blood is, in essence, the only offering that pleases Amasalen."

Iscikella clears her throat.

You smirk.

You say, "Nothing else will suffice."

You say, "His sphere is specific.  And his connection to Luukos revolves around him receiving that for which Luukos has no need, but which the astute Arkati nevertheless recognizes as a source of power not to be wasted, that being fresh blood."

You nod.

You ask, "Luukos' desire is to reap the soul of any living creature.  In doing so, blood is more than likely spilled.  So why waste such power when Amasalen can make good use of it?"

You glance down at your empty hands.

You ask, "Why waste such indeed?"

Zenaxa rubs her chin thoughtfully.

You say, "It is likely for this reason that Luukos raised Amasalen, seeing in him a unique ability to translate that for which Luukos himself had no especial desire into power that can yet compliment his own sphere of influence."

You say, "Never a bad thing for an Arkati after all, to spread the range of his influence."

You nod.

You say, "It is well to note here that Amasalen has no interest in undead, as the blood of such is not fresh; therefore such blood -- if any -- is unclean and powerless.  Thus, while the Blood Lord respects Luukos' abilities to create undead, he has himself no ambition to glean any of his master's competency in this field."

You shake your head.

Zenaxa leans forward.

You say, "Some will try and say he does, but he had no need for such abilities."

You say, "The tales of Amasalen are many.  Some may be no more than legend, though in every legend there is usually a grain of truth."

You say, "The old tale which ascribes to Amasalen donation of the building used to house the Temple of Hope here in Icemule Trace is likely true.  The later corruption of that temple because of something housed in the building by Amasalen is almost certainly true."

You nod.

You say, "It is probable and reasonable to assume that Amasalen performed these feats to please Luukos by arranging for the souls of the Oleani priestesses in the temple to be forfeit, with dominance over their souls given in the end by Luukos to Oleani's rival, the goddess Ivas."

You say, "As the lover of Luukos, Ivas undoubtedly received the gift as a token of the Death Lord's... esteem."

You smirk.

Iscikella coughs.

A pained expression crosses Mitheirien's face.

You say, "Likewise, the legend that, upon Amasalen's ascension above the sphere of lesser mortals, Luukos tore the heart from the body of the Faendryl and subsequently petrified it into a relic of great power undoubtedly has some basis in truth."

You glance at Iscikella.

Iscikella squirms.

You say, "The power of that relic -- that it could increase the physical efficacy of aggressiveness of the carrier threefold -- may or may not be accurate.  But that a relic revered as The Heart of Amasalen exists in the world remains without question."

You grin wickedly.

You say, "Much has been made of the fact that Amasalen rather aggressively forwarded a long-term plan to gain control of the magical nexus here in Icemule Trace."

Iscikella mutters aye.

You say, "That nexus is rumored to be of extraordinary mana potency.  Yet the question often raised is why Amasalen, whose power sphere is fresh blood, wishes so ardently to control it."

Zenaxa agrees with you.

You hold up your hand and tilt it side to side in a so-so gesture.

Iscikella squints at you.

You say, "In this regard, the reality that in mortal life Amasalen, as a Faendryl elf, knew much of the mysteries of sorcery must be taken into consideration."

You say, "Even though ascended, Amasalen may well retain interest in such pursuits, and thus finds the possibility of holding sway over the nexus intriguing."

You shrug.

You say, "And it is just as possible that Amasalen in this design is simply serving Luukos' ends, as the nexus would likely be able to increase greatly the overall puissance of the Death Lord's hordes of undead."

Mitheirien winces.

Iscikella sighs.

You say, "In the final analysis, that Amasalen's teachings provide a means of attaining power the might of which few understand is a draw surely mystical in its scope."

You say, "As a sylvan, the power of Nature is something I have always understood, and Amasalen's power is but an instinctive extension of that.  Thus for me, there was never any doubt about the inherent truth of Amasalen's teachings."

Iscikella glances at you.

Iscikella shakes her head, clucking her tongue.

You say, "In the end: Blood is life, and thus blood is power."

 (Bablistia nods emphatically.)

You say, "I will now open the floor to questions and discussion."

Zenaxa says, "If Luukos were te conmsume all sould.. there would be no fresh blood."

Mitheirien agrees with Zenaxa.

Zenaxa says, "How is that benficial te Amaslen."

You say, "Oh, but there are always more creatures."

You say, "Nature is self-sustaining."

Zenaxa asks, "Enough te sustain yer lords thirst?"

Mitheirien winces.

You say, "Though the creatures that come later may be different than we know, that does not make them any less full of blood."

You chuckle at Zenaxa.

You say, "My lord's thrist is never quenched."

Zenaxa says, "That would seem so."

Zenaxa smiles.

You say, "Yet he seems to find a good amount of what he craves in this world."

Iscikella says, "Unfortunately, yes."

Iscikella mutters under her breath.

Zenaxa ponders.

Zenaxa asks, "What does yer lord do with his attained power?"

Zenaxa asks, "Simply feeds it te Luukos?"

You say, "No, it is used to his own ends as well."

You say, "To coerce servants to his sway."

Zenaxa ponders.

You say, "He is also known for gathering certain forms of sorcery knowledge."

You say, "As I said, he was once Faendryl."

You nod.

Zenaxa nods.

Mitheirien stands up.

Mitheirien quietly says, "Excuse me please."

You say, "But that gathering must include the possibility of blood."

Mitheirien bows to you.

Iscikella nods to Mitheirien.

You say, "Aye."

You nod to Mitheirien.

Mitheirien quietly says, "Thank you for speaking; it was quite informative."

Mitheirien smiles at you.

Mitheirien waves.

Mitheirien just went north.

You turn to face Zenaxa.

Zenaxa asks, "So when th Luukosiand make their offerins... I assume one of your lord's is there as well?"

You say, "Most often, yes."

You say, "In truth, the death Luukos spawns gives much power to Amasalen."

You say, "And thus their connection."

Zenaxa asks, "Does yer lord think he could attain more power than lukos?"

Zenaxa coughs.

You look at Zenaxa and shake your head.

Zenaxa says, "Blood is neverending."

You say, "Their... wants are different."

Zenaxa says, "There is but one soul per being."

You grin at Zenaxa.

You say, "Which is the basis of Amasalen's ideas."

You say, "He has a ready source."

Zenaxa asks, "What does yer lord wish in an ideal situation for his means?"

You say, "But that source admittedly is not as... eternal as a soul."

Zenaxa says, "Aye.. but if th soul never leaves.. the body could bleed... for as long as it lives."

You say, "True, but eventually a body dies."

You say, "That is nature."

Zenaxa asks, "Why would yer lord give up his feast when he could have all that blood?"

You say, "Whether Luukos then takes the soul, Amasalen has no care."

Zenaxa says, "Aye... once it succumbs naturally."

You say, "Death is inevitable."

You say, "Aye, but naturally, no blood is spilled."

You say, "And it is true that the blood of the strong and fit has more power."

You say, "That of the old and feeble much less."

Zenaxa asks, "Doe yer lord need a lot of blood at once to sustain?"

Zenaxa nods.

You say, "Amasalen revels in as much blood as can be had."

You say, "Blood of the fit and mighty."

You say, "He gorges on it."

You say, "How much exactly he "needs" to sustain his power, I cannot say."

Zenaxa says, "He must have held many buckets under th sky temple this last few weeks."

You say, "But that he will take all he can get, I can say with certainty."

You chuckle at Zenaxa.

You say, "He certainly did."

You wink at Zenaxa.

Iscikella shifts her weight.

Zenaxa asks, "Was he inolved in the battle?"

You say, "Not directly, no."

Zenaxa ponders.

Zenaxa says, "I winner why."

Zenaxa says, "Wunner."

Zenaxa coughs.

Zenaxa asks, "Is he lazy?"

You laugh out loud!

You shake your head.

You say, "No."

You say, "But the battle involved much about souls."

You say, "Lorminstra against Luukos."

Zenaxa says, "And so much blood it pours from th skies."

You say, "And he likely reveled in it."

You ask, "But directly involve himself?  Why do so?"

You say, "There was no need."

Zenaxa says, "I canna imagine why he wouldnt fight te help sustain that."

You say, "Others were providing bounty."

You say, "We can never understand the mind of deities."

Zenaxa says, "True."

You say, "But then again, perhaps Luukos told him to stay away."

Zenaxa smiles.

You shrug.

Zenaxa says, "Tis likely."

You say, "Or planned to bring him forth at an appointed time."

You say, "Which did not come."

Zenaxa says, "Thankees fer yer leacture."

Zenaxa smiles.

You say, "Most welcome."

Zenaxa stands up.

You say, "Thank ye for yer attention."

Iscikella stands up.

Zenaxa says, "Surely.. I enjoy learnin."

Iscikella says, "I will lead back to the Meeting Hall."

Iscikella says, "Please join me."

Zenaxa joins Iscikella's group.

You say, "I will stay here."

You nod to Iscikella.

Iscikella nods to you.

Speaking to you, Iscikella says, "Good eve to ye."

High Lady Iscikella's group just went north.