Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20170331010116/@comment-28358106-20170401025252

"...Sire..."

Astrid glides closer to him slowly, her steps barely sounding. She stops short.

"I came here in the hope that you would understand the task which I have been given, and you have shown me much more. To cause you such pain was not my intention, nor was it my place to burden you with these things, but now..."

She pauses, unsure of what to say. Her face is a mask of pale thought. "As it would pain me to see you fall, I will not refuse your help. Because I worry for the good of what you have done, this fragile beginning, should not go unprotected.  Thus, I give you a boon, that is my own to give."

"Should you fall, I will ensure that the Covenant survives. Through your blood in me, I will continue the lineage of De'Sange, such as is within my ability.  I am a Wraith, and not a Vampire, but I will find a way.  On this, you have my word."

Her hand extends, a slender palm held upright, emerging from the depths of a sleeve of darkness. Armata can feel the power roll from her, endless and paralyzing in its might. The shadows grow and her cloak merges with them, crawling and spiraling through the throne room. It rises behind her like wings as the abyssal halo shines above her, her divine link to the Saint of Sorrows. The blood magic of Armata's line and the Abyssal power of the Dread Lich swirl and beckon, thrumming with a power he has never felt before.

"My word is my bond, My Liege. Like you and your kin of old, I cannot lie.  Will you take my hand, then, and share my visions, that you might again know Deidre's love, that resides in me?  I cannot be my mother, My Lord, but should you take my hand in friendship, all I have is yours, to protect what you have wrought..."