THE NON-PLAYING CHARACTERS (NPCs)

THE MANTHRIAN CAPITAL MARCOGG


Gordoth Uthor
 

 

GORDOTH UTHOR (Undertaker)

You haven't even entered properly as a sudden uncertain fear overwhelms you: There is a tall man wearing a pitchblack cloak, which touches the ground - but it's not only this weird clothing which irritates yourself... The man is standing in front of you like an item which was placed there. Without the slightest movement, without saying a single word. He checks you after having turned his dark eyes in your direction, then simply stares at you so that you think you might freeze, then he looks away, examining the wall, as if you had no importance for him at all. You turn around, trying to discover something special at the wall: But the wall is as gray and dull as all other walls you have seen so far.
 

Artimidor "Who are you?"

Mysterious man in black Long, embarassing silence.

You already think that the darkrobed figure hasn't heard your greeting, when his seemingly stone-made face turns to you again, suddenly speaking very distinct:

"Gordoth",
you hear his hoarse voice, "Gordoth, the Undertaker."

Two terrifying eyes stare at you, and you feel a cold shower running down your spine...

Artimidor "So... Well met, Gordoth!"

Gordoth "Yes, Gordoth. This is what 'they' are calling me."

Artimidor "They? Who do you mean with 'they'?"

Gordoth Gordoth loosens his crossed arms and points with a long skinny finger to the door.

"There. There, outside!"

He crosses his arms again and continues with few, but not less clear words:

"However, all will come to me once. All long to enter their deep, dark tombs... Because down there they are at home and finally released from the agony here above - yes, finally free... "

Still Gordoth stands there like a powerful statue that you have the impression, the voice, which you hear, is only an illusion...

"Are you happy with your life?" Gordoth stares at the wall, but his question is directed to you. "Say, are you really happy here?", he repeats.

Artimidor "Yes, I think so."

Gordoth "Ha, you're unexperienced then. But you still have a lot to learn what life has in stock for you...."

Artimidor "You are right. We all have to leave this world someday."

Gordoth "Nobody escapes the Gods and the deserved grave! The earth receives everyone in the same way, be it the Count or a lousy beggar - the worms are delighted with both..."

Gordoth stands in superior pose.

"But note this: No worm will ever gnaw on MY bones! As I am not one of those mortals like the ones outside, and like you. I was created by the Gods themselves to finish what they have begun. - Don't you see it? Hundreds of years have passed this body as if they had no interest... Ay: That is a sign! And so I will - if it has to be that way - fulfill my duty till the end of the days, or at least until the day the prophets have predicted. Then the Gods will even bereft me from my mortal remains. Then, when the destiny of Santharia has come to pass..."

Artimidor "Is the undertaking business a rewarding job?"

Gordoth "Definitely not a job for the weak. But I'm already used to it. I understand the dead much better than the living, believe me!"

Artimidor "What kind of Santharian destiny is this of which you speak of?"

Gordoth "Only the Gods know what will happen to us, noone can predict exactly what will be then."

Artimidor "How is it possible to understand the dead, Gordoth?"

Gordoth "Just go outside, out of the town, where they all lie together and are humming their silent death's song. They are all happy out there, I'm very sure about this... And - they talk to us, as they gently nestle their thoughts in our minds, telling us about the transitoryness: 'everything is transitory, so transitory...', they whisper without speaking. And how dreadful it may seem to you, once you're there and listen to their quiet voices, it seems so comforting... - Every time I dig a grave in the evening at the cemetery, driving one spade after the other into the earth und hear this melody of silence, it seems like a relevation... Yes, it's not wicked to listen, it's wonderful, so wonderful..."

He makes a wise face, as people probably do who are convinced to bear a deep wisdom within themselves.

"You may ask Kai, our poet, about his Death's Song - I like it very much. He knows, about what he's talking. Just as I do."

Artimidor "Is this poet your friend?"

Gordoth We have many things in common: Perhaps it is our melancholy, which connects as - we're indeed like brothers. And Kai writes the most beautiful lyrics, as he writes with the blood, in which he soaks his quill. - But he doesn't believe in the truth of his poems. That's his mistake. He still has hope for his life, but there is none. His poems know much, much more than he does..."

Artimidor"Death's poem?"

Gordoth "I read it very often. It is as if the spirit of the dead lives on in these verses - and if Kai himself recites it, it is even sader and even more truthful. He sure knows his profession, indeed. Suffering and death stand close together..."

Artimidor "In which kind of Gods do you believe in, if I may ask..."

Gordoth An amused grin breaks through the earnest face of the undertaker.

"Ha! The Gods! What funny things the people do to find some! But noone has ever searched at the right place! I know that, as I probably have to do much more with the Gods than anyone else... In the tombs you should seek them out! And dead you should be, then you sure will find them... Down there they are waiting for us, a long, long eternity..."

Gordoth gets serene again, nearly angry:

"But what do the people bother about that? They prefer digging for some stones and worship them! At least that's better than finding nothing, for what it would be worth to be bored a whole life long..."

Artimidor "You say, that life is nothing more than a permanent agony?"

Gordoth Life has no value. It goes steeply upward and steeply downward and there's no place, where the time stands still, where you could rest. Yes, you'd need to be able to rest - from life itself to learn about its value, not from the things it contains, but from life itself you'd need to rest! You'd need to be dead with your soul at peace to look back on your past, to finally know what it is good for. But death takes everything, even this look back... - Only the Gods know what they do, never do we. However, we need to go on - who knows if we even have the right to do it?"

Artimidor "And which role does our death play in the labyrinths of life, Gordoth? Has it any meaning?"

Gordoth "Death is everything we can hope for. Your death is also your release. Everything else is just brabbling of the priests and has no importance at all."

Artimidor "Tell me: What is it, Kai suffers from?"

Gordoth:"Talk to him, and he may tell you."

Artimidor "Bye."

Gordoth "Grmpf!", mumbles Gordoth, which probably means something similar to a good-bye.
 

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