#jeeesuuus

The woman quirked a curious eyebrow, jade eyes scouring the meek presence whose voice made a bid for her attention … and seemed to win, considering the nature of the conversation. Where she once held a mask of distance and utter emptiness, devoid of any living emotion, her features promptly lighted up with interest, eyes sparkling as the cogs and gears of her mind started to turn.

"Not just any kind of Necromancer, you fool." Tybresa purred out softly whilst extending her hand - which happened to be covered with a gauntlet with sharp, claw-like extensions, as it seemed to beckon the jar with the damaged organ for closer inspection. "My Grandfather himself worked on the poor wretch’s body - his circulatory system, which also includes the successful intermingle of the hextech device that seems to generate the necrotic power to keep his entire form from collapsing."

There was obvious pride in her voice, a cocky smile spread across her pale lips - her eyes were half-lidded in satisfaction, like she took great pleasure from this conversation.

"Sadly, the High Command found themselves quite cheap when it came to commissioning my Grandfather’s full services … and as such, had to call on other necromancers to fulfill the project. Incompetent bones-for-brains, all of them, considering the sorry state our once-esteemed Executioner finds himself presently. Grandfather often tells himself that he would either forge a new body, from scratch, or fall flat and dead the next time he would see Urgot scuttling along. I thing the latter is nigh impossible to happen, so …”

"But ah - I digress. As far as my knowledge goes, the creature’s respiratory system has a great deal of support, if not full dependency on the zaunite contraption that goes with the rest of the engine." She would bring her hand close enough to tap on the jar’s glassy surface. "This is in a truly sorry state - I would not even bother re-animating this. It is too damaged … to dysfunctional. Urgot would be better off without it."