Trahearne pauses as the Fool speaks to him, cradling the long bones he'd gathered up in the crook of one arm. He's starting to frown, not entirely happy to have landed on this topic of conversation.

"So I keep being told - that he's kind, that he's a better person than he outwardly acts. I never imagined one of the undead would have quite so many friends flocking to him." There's a note of bitterness to his tone now, one that he didn't mean to let slip. This was the third time the topic has been broached to him, and he couldn't claim that any of the previous talks had gone very well.

"There are also no vampires on my world, but there are many more types of undead. Zhaitan, the first Elder Dragon to fall, used its magic to corrupt and raise an entire army of them. Had vampires counted among Zhaitan's Risen, I have no doubt that scores more people would have died. An undead creature that doesn't rot, able to move among the living with no one the wiser? That is like something out of a cruel nightmare. So, yes. I have seen how exquisitely horrible such creatures can be. Yet when I try to explain this, my concerns only fall on deaf ears."