Quoted By:
<span class="mu-s">[BEHIND THE SEEMS WITH YANG WUHAN]</span>
"Mo Ao. Dead yet."
<span class="mu-i">
No.
Lord.
</span>
Yang Wuhan finds the dropped skull along the trajectory the Revenant's body send his Disciple. Picks it up.
"How long shall you stay a skull. Can you call forth the Mute Garb in this state."
<span class="mu-i">
I can call forth the Garb.
I feel it might be almost two months before a new body rise
Under the Garb.
</span>
"49 days. Within expectation. Was there a reason you did not use any of your body's special characteristics. Are you incapable."
<span class="mu-i">
No.
Lord.
They are unnatural to use.
An alien sense of appendage.
I might use some of them if I was unhindered.
In close battle, difficult.
Even with practice I may take too long.
</span>
"Mm. Can you turn insubstantial. Invisible. Fly."
The Dimm Revenant tries. By turns it turns intangible, faint, slowly levitates above Man height. It attempts combinations of these, varying the effort distribution.
"Well."
<span class="mu-i">
Not completely.
Not all at once.
Not well.
</span>
"Useless. What tools of soldiery can you use."
<span class="mu-i">
Simple weapons, in life.
Larger and heavier, in this flesh.
If I wear the Mute Garb they pass through.
</span>
"Can you retract the Mute Garb from your hands to wield physical weapons."
<span class="mu-i">
Focus is required.
Or practice.
I must turn wholly material to fight with plain arms, or be easily disarmed.
</span>
"Special arms then, for you. Your Master will see to it. Do you retain any memories of the last mind in that body."
<span class="mu-i">
No.
Faint.
Of arising in the Dimm Lands.
Of long intrigue between the Eminent.
Of career purpose. Surveyor, Conveyor, Purveyor.
It has never seen the Queen, nor ever hoped,
Until my Lord a stranger bade her forth with Art.
An aweful development, of inconceivable origin and implication.
The last moments of its mind was Terror.
</span>
"Hmph. Any spells. Information, precise and current. Secrets."
<span class="mu-i">
... ...
None.
They feel...taken.
The pertinent memories stop, as paths in fog.
The path joins again, further in the way, but the city on the path, the memory desired, has been passed through unnoticed.
It is disorienting to try.
</span>
"Clever. No fool, the Dimmu Queen.
<span class="mu-i">
She is old.
Lord, to warn:
Careless address of Her is danger.
Only euphemistic, or deliberate.
This body somewhat listens, without my will.
Her mention quickens it.
Lord, pray thee, abstain.
</span>
He smirks. A gallant bow from a little girl's shape, form perfect, but of substance mockery and spite.
"All within expectation, <span class="mu-s">Dimmu Queen.</span>"
