The Monastary had been founded only three years before, and the residents of Ranseytown didn't much care for the arrangement. None had yet gained the stomach to evict their new neighbors, however, and a proposal had even been made to the mayor of Ranseytwon that a new cemetary be built on the other side of town. Since a monk could not have children of his own upon donning the Order's robes of grey, these orphans were one of the only means of sustaining membership. In spite of these misfortunes, the monks were delighted by their newest arrival. All knowledge worth knowing has death at its center, so the monks say.
Death lends a power to ideas, to events.
Initiates are taught to hold this thought in their minds - death is always moments away, and it is the one sure and true element of the cosmos. Death is feared by the old, ignored by the young, misunderstood by the masses but a Monk of the Order learns to acknowledge death in his mind as a tangible force, as a friend, a teacher, an advisor, and above all, a touchstone. When the Abbott first spied Ariel, he felt a tingle down his spine. The Abbott nodded, sagely. He had already forgotten, but nodded sagely once more.