[Lines like their opinion was irrelevant and explicit disregard of orders send a little shot of glee racing the full length of Gideon's spine, this whole conversation is so damn cool. Real warfare. Real battles. Probably a ton of babes looking really hot in tight fitting uniforms...or perhaps she just felt like adding in that last little bit, don't spoil the moment.

She reaches for her ale, almost disappointed to have to answer a question when she has so many more of her own.]

So on one level I'm the brawn to Harrow's - my necromancer - dark arts. Like, she pulls off the necromancy, which can take a shit tone of energy and leave her vulnerable to close range attacks, and I see to it that no one can get close to her. We kind of thought that was the whole deal, and that the one flesh, one end pact was just a weirdly kinky way of saying we'd be prepared to die defending each other. Sounds likely, right?

[She waits one hot second before making a rude noise with her mouth and jerking her thumb downward.]

Wrong. Turns out in the event of being called to Lyctorhood by the King Undying, the cav is meant to sacrifice themselves and become absorbed by the necro, to create like, an near-immortal weapon. Basically Harrow's gotta eat me and we become one, only it's not neeeaaarrrly as hot as it sounds.

[A pause just the length of a heartbeat, and then--]

Yeah, yeah, I know. I come from a weird place.