The warmth of the fire contrasts with the cool of the mountain air. The fellowship’s breath rises from their mouths and evaporates into the night.
“The orcs of Tosk do not enslave. We do not wield necromantic magic, although individual orcs might know something of it. Our drummers are not overseers or masters.”
Another faint outline leaves the orc’s warm body. “Are there ghosts, as far as the orcs know? Of course. What of the ghosts of orcs? We don’t worry about it. An orc ought to live fully, achieve greatness in the Now, so that when they face the Never, they can walk into it with pride.”
Feel free to Command Lore about your culture’s opinion on ghosts too, if anyone feels the call!
“We do not have ghosts, only life and death.”
The cool mountain air and flickering fire mean nothing to Wynn. The cold can no longer touch them and the fire brings only the distant memory of heat.
“The god Eltar created life - molding forms and giving them the spark of being. Their sister, Zirin, is the guider of souls to the next realm. She creates nothing, only leads.”
“For the Ohir, there is nothing between life and death. No place in the world of the living for those who have died. This form of mine, an existence formed by darkness, defies the gods.” The fire crackles and sparks float into the air. There is no warmth.
“We do not have ghosts, only the cursed.”
Carabas takes his third long draught of fermented goat milk. Then he gets to his feet, with only a slight sway, declaims:
As everyone knows, Catlings (and possibly other Speaking Peoples, but who can say?) live nine lives, and when one dies, their spirit moves on to another Catling newborn kit.
(Some argue that, should a Catling have lived an egregiously unworthy life, they might be banished for a life in another race, where, no doubt, their grace and charm and wit cause them to excel and succeed and learn how they should be. The only question about that is whether it would count against nine lives holy Bast has decreed for us. It seems unfair, if so, but perhaps a punishment should sting. But I digress …)
I understand what some peoples mean by “ghost,” but if the spirit has moved on, why would such a thing occur?
What my people do recognize is that some places, some events, have such powerful memories made of them, associated with death, that the memories can linger onwards for a time. These memories are what others call ghosts, but they have no reality about them. A poignancy, perhaps, as such events usually involve loss, deaths of such power that they echo and reverberate onward. But the living spirits of that place have already been reborn, or gone on to what lies beyond the ninth life.
And what is that? Ah … I have not drunk nearly enough to share that secret with you.