[ He acknowledges that faintly, whether it's true or not. The most evil, he means. What constitutes? Is it a world that cares so little for anything except power and riches that it will eat itself alive or one so afraid of each other and hungry to conquer that it will crush all manner of people under its feet, even the children, until there are only ashes? The only thing humans have done with magic on the Continent is wield it to control kingdoms and weaponize monsters and men. In the end, it doesn't matter. A wound is a wound. If her world is as scarred as it is, he imagines it becomes hard to see anything else but that. ]
Every monster is real. Whether it bears claws or not. [ Hers simply take a different form, it seems. ] All you can do is keep from becoming one, too.
[ He shifts his hand, laying it on her leg while he tucks the under behind his head. He hasn't any idea what she's referring to when she talks of her singular god, but he grasps what she means to say. It's funny. How uniform her world sounds sometimes, despite how vast it apparently is. Melitele holds one of the largest followings and it's nowhere near enough to influence how people at large behave. All the temples do is serve as a place of respite while people continue to war and kill around them.
Though part of him longs for the peace of the temple, in truth. Perhaps it's where he might've went, if Kaer Morhen was not an option, were he back in his world. But he can't, so he's here instead conversing of goddesses and human nature. And while it isn't the same sort of calm, it does take his mind off things. He's detached enough from the concept of it. Faith, that is. At least in this sense. ]
The Continent's left matters of faith largely alone for now. They've enough horseshit to fight over as it is.
[ Then again, with Nilfgaard marching—who knows what they mean to spread, if anything? Their soldiers certainly believe in something they deem greater. Hard to find that line, between faith and blindness. ]
no subject
Every monster is real. Whether it bears claws or not. [ Hers simply take a different form, it seems. ] All you can do is keep from becoming one, too.
[ He shifts his hand, laying it on her leg while he tucks the under behind his head. He hasn't any idea what she's referring to when she talks of her singular god, but he grasps what she means to say. It's funny. How uniform her world sounds sometimes, despite how vast it apparently is. Melitele holds one of the largest followings and it's nowhere near enough to influence how people at large behave. All the temples do is serve as a place of respite while people continue to war and kill around them.
Though part of him longs for the peace of the temple, in truth. Perhaps it's where he might've went, if Kaer Morhen was not an option, were he back in his world. But he can't, so he's here instead conversing of goddesses and human nature. And while it isn't the same sort of calm, it does take his mind off things. He's detached enough from the concept of it. Faith, that is. At least in this sense. ]
The Continent's left matters of faith largely alone for now. They've enough horseshit to fight over as it is.
[ Then again, with Nilfgaard marching—who knows what they mean to spread, if anything? Their soldiers certainly believe in something they deem greater. Hard to find that line, between faith and blindness. ]