Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-27550231-20180326173209

With a loud thump Praetor sits near the fireplace, the warmth soothing his dry cracking skin. He rubs his armored gauntlets down the length of his plate, an unconscious gesture of pain, before he moved to inspect his equipment. There were a few new scratches on his shield but that was to be expected. His helmet too bore claw marks but that was what they were, marks, superficial scratches on his armor. His sword... it left him wanting, it did not cut as finely as he remembered nor did it strike with enough power. Perhaps it was his lack of practice, perhaps the laws of this realm worked differently to the his. Perhaps he was wanting, his body degrading without the goddess to guide him.

Praetor banished the thought as he began to sharpen his sword, the constant of stone on steel drowning out a quiet whisper in the back of his mind.

"That was quite the marksmanship back there... I dont think I got yiur name I'm Praetor"