[ As Emmrich listens, his hand finds his temple, the point of one long finger going back and forth above his brow, visible evidence of an unsettled mind. He straightens only at that last question, a breath of laughter escaping him at the word profane. ]

You're hardly alone in thinking of a necromancer's work as blasphemy, [ he begins, his thoughts still caught on the edges of Armand's answer. ] But our work — my work — is not to disturb nor raise the dead but to ensure their peaceful rest. Much of the Mourn Watch is dedicated to funerary rites, to settling the affairs of wayward souls.

[ There's more to it — the spirits that death attracts, the distinction between spirits and souls — but that's not really what Armand has asked. Hesitation plays out in a pause, a fractured breath, the shape of his thoughts breaking and reforming as he changes his track. ]

There are ways to truly profane the dead — and the living. I would do all that is within my power to prevent it, to protect those who cannot protect themselves from the abuse of the occult.

[ His gaze falls, then levels in the vampire's direction. ]

If I may be so bold — what we are taught is not always the entire truth. Were you a servant of evil, truly, I expect I would already be dead.