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

you have lived a life of bloodthirsty evil, contemptuous of your fellow man,
laying others low and doing as you pleased without a care for who or what
you hurt...
"...then it is perhaps one of the Lower Planes - Baator, or the chaotic swirling
layers of the Abyss - that shall welcome you! Evil to the core are the spirits
that come to this plane, and most are doomed to mindless cruelty and
suffering or servitude in the dreaded..." He whispered dramatically "...Blood
War."
Morte whispered, "And that's if you're lucky."
Blood War... the phrase tingled with familiarity, but the feeling was gone a
moment later.
"No matter where you go, know this: You shall be embarking on a new life. A
new life, my Sigilians!"
"And that's supposed to be an incentive? We get to do this all again? Gee, I
can't wait to be a floating skull all over again. Whee! Pike him. What a tard.
Spoken just like someone who hasn't died before, huh?"
The lecturer continued, unaware of the heckling at the back of the crowd,
"You shall be able to start anew without the burden of memory or your past
life. Your 'soul' goal, if you will..." He smiled at his own humor. What kind of
person chuckles at their own jokes? "…is to merge with this new Plane that
you are on, becoming one with the ideals and the very substance of the
Plane itself!
"You shall be one of the inhabitants, the petitioners, on this Plane or, ideally,
one of the building blocks upon which the Plane is built! It is the goal of all
petitioners! To accomplish this goal, you..." He clapped his hands together
for emphasis: "...MUST clap! HOLD clap! TO clap! YOUR clap! IDEALS!"
"Oh, this is one, big steaming load." I found myself nodding in agreement
with Morte.
"Your ideals! Good or evil, law or chaos, or somewhere in between! As you
approach the alignment of the Plane, your journey will end as you become
part... of... the... plane... itself! 'Tis a glorious existence, my Sigilians!
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