Talk:Ask the Quiet Deviless/@comment-82.30.237.105-20130717112628

"There was a time when Death feared fire," she whispered. "And then we did not fear him. That time is long past... but it is very difficult to burn us." She shows her teeth. "Let me stoke the fire. No more of Death. If I die, will another rise in my place? Or will it be me, the next instar? Perhaps you would grieve. Perhaps. You should leave flowers on my memorial stone, then. Red roses."

Inconclusive: hints and half-truths. But the half-truths have a glinting edge to them. A little more than the Vicar might have expected. He pays you for what you've earned.