(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

the first of us will ever truly know the reason that brought us to this state."
"Then what was your life like?"
The practical incarnation threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes in
frustration.
"It was quiet, and long, and was filled with much of the pain and the joys
that one would expect in life. I served as a cartographer for a time, and I
walked the Planes for several years," he sighed, "In the end, as I traveled
upon the fields of Bytopia, terrible shadows took on life as I lay sleeping. I
died as I felt their claws upon me."
"They are the shades of all those that died in our place."
The man looked pained. "Yes, I know... I know that now. One cannot be in
this place of regrets and not feel their agony."
That grip encircled my wrist this time, and the practical incarnation snapped,
"You waste time. Or have you forgotten your allies?" Even the word 'allies'
was cold on his lips.
I yanked my hand away, and he crossed his arms as if he was recentering
himself.
"I fear your friends are already dead." The gentle incarnation looked pained.
"This place bears a hatred for the living."
"Dak'kon may have escaped in my time," the other incarnation said coldly,
and nodded at me, "Else how would he know about the Circle of
Zerthimon?"
"Dak'kon and Morte," I agreed, "But Xachariah died."
"Is Morte still alive?" The incarnation stared for a moment in disbelief, then
he started laughing. "Ha! That piking skull couldn't be trusted farther than I
could throw him - claiming he had information when he didn't, then I had to
go through the torment of prying him off the Pillar of Skulls, then he feigned
ignorance once he was off of it." The incarnation scoffed. "I humored him,
since he'd told me everything I needed from him."
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