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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Eluvan" data-source="post: 2727071" data-attributes="member: 24812">Ilsthyr makes no response at first but merely stares at Scorn, his skull hidden in the shadows of his hood but for the two purple flames that burn in its depths, staring out inscrutably. He has the vestigial urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of this newcomer, but the reflex is not present in his skeletal frame and he remains silent and unmoving. Finally he speaks, his voice resonating like the too-loud echo of a graveyard whisper. "What, precisely, do you think I was trying to accomplish? As an adept of the arcane arts, I am best qualified to study the texts of the 'master'." His voice veritably drips with condescending amusement over the last word. His first frame of reference for the dead man was indeed 'master', but he has already moved beyond that utterly. He acknowledges no master. Not now, and never again. "As such," he goes on, "I am appropriating them for further study. If you wish to benefit from my enlightened view of the texts when I am finished, I suggest you cease your interference. If you wish to assert your dominance, I would reccomend imposing your belligerence on one of the mindless ones over there." He points at one of the shambling skeletons that as of yet has shown no sign of sentience. "I have little patience for it."</blockquote>