Morte, Part I

I felt it was time I learned a little more about Morte. I asked him to tell me about himself. He chattered so long as we were walking I was afraid he would never stop.

“Of course you got questions about me — you probably have questions about all sorts of things. Let me boil it down for you: when you've been as dead as long as I have… without arms, legs, or anything else, you spend a lot of time thinking, y'know? I figure it’s been a few hundred years since I got penned in the dead book, but time doesn’t really tally up the way it used to… without that mortality thing pressing down on you, all the days and nights kind of blend together. So you think about this, and you think about that… and the most important piece of wisdom I've learned over the past hundred or so years is this:”

“There’s a lot more obscene gestures you can make with your eyes and your jaw than most people think. Without even resorting to insults or taunting, you can really light a bonfire under someone just with the right combination of eye movements and jaw clicking. Drives them barmy! If you ever get beheaded and your skin flayed from your skull, I'll show you how it’s done. I got some real gems, chief — they'd drive a deva to murder, they would.”

“I know what you’re thinking: I'm dead. I've lost so much. It should have sobered me up to all that joy I missed, all those loves I've lost. Some people get all depressed about death — they haven’t tried it, of course — but one thing they never seem to realize is how it changes your perspective on things; it really makes you take a second look at life, broaden your horizons. For me, it’s pretty much made me realize how many dead chits are in this berg and how few sharp-tongued men like myself there are to go around — you spin the wheel right, and your years of spending nights alone are over!”

“Shallow? I'm not shallow. I just don’t get caught up in all that philosophy and faith and belief wash that every berk from Arborea to the Gray Waste rattle their jaws about. Who cares? The Planes are what they are, you’re what you are, and if it changes, fine, but things aren’t bad the way they are — and I should know. Go on, ask me some questions about the Planes, or the chant, or the people, or the cultures — when you end up like me — without eyelids, that is — you end up seeing a lot of things, and I can tell you almost everything you need to know.”

“It’s like this: We’re in this together, chief. Until this is over, I stick like your leg.”