[ Like fragments of rock falling through the upper atmosphere, Armand tracks the bright flare and fade of thoughts through Emmrich's mind. No tedious mortal considerations here -- he recognises the shape of the necromancer's worries from the edges of John Gaius' influence. A shame that the god of death hadn't lingered much longer; Armand wonders what Emmrich could have learned at that man's knee. How to cope with eternity, surely.

Also: Parisa. Interesting, but not unexpected. She is a collector of interesting subjects, after all. ]

Vampires are monsters. [ Armand offers his answer as he moves back across the study, back to the armchair he recently deserted. He folds himself into it as he continues: ]

Killers, defilers, abominations before God. If we are not damned, what hope is there for mortality? To become a vampire is the greatest sin, a rejection of God's plan, desire and hunger made flesh for -- what reason? To prey on the innocent and the weak, culling them like sickened animals? To provide a lesson to mortal men? I was once taught it was so. We exist as the shadow of evil, to prove God's goodness in reflection. Therefore we must be evil, we must be shadows. We must not know joy, or simple pleasures. We must be beautiful horrors. So I learned.

[ He drags himself back from reflection to look at Emmrich. ]

For what reason do you practise your magic, necromancer? For whose benefit do you profane the dead?