Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180705001800

(Jester) Violetta takes an alternate route, barreling down a corridor to the right and continuing on our of sight. As Prad turns the corner to view his target, he sees Violetta’s smoke-like remains channel under a door. He approaches the wooden door. The wood is old, rotted, and the handle is encased in rust. As he turns the handle and pushes open the door, he is treated to the sight of a room shrouded in darkness and filled with ancient skeletons.

Hung by their necks, the skeletons sway gently from the drafty air of the prison. Their bones clatter, making a symphony of chilling clicks and clacks.

(Doc) Imperia nods. “I.... I can walk, but.... I’d be lying if I said ‘I want to’. I’d prefer to be carried by you, Tirush.” Imperia moves to Tirush’s front, her eyes filled with many raw emotions and desires. While cradling Layoka in her arms, Imperia leans in and kisses Tirush’s neck, holding her lips there.

“I want to be carted away, like a maiden saved by my great love. I want so many thing, Tirush. I want a bath, I a warm meal, I want blood, I want your specific company.... all at the same time.” Imperia says pulling away from Tirush’s neck.

“Alas it is not the time for that. I can walk, and shall do so. But Tirush, when you return me to safety, please don’t leave me until the sun rises the next morning. I need you to you to save me, in more ways than one....” Imperia nuzzles her face into Tirush’s mantle, she breathes deep, taking in the lovely scent of her Wyvern love. Imperia pulls away and begins walking toward a spiral stairwell that leads upward.

(BT) Armata sneers at the idea of carrying Jorge. “Where is the Wyvern when you need her?” He grumbles. The Vampire Lord begins to growl and curse, clenching his fists tight and gritting his teeth. His cloak forms into a pair of wings, reminiscent to that of Tirush’s. Armata grabs Jorge by his shoulder plates, and his new wings begin pumping hard. Jorge soon finds his feet off the ground, his body slowly rising with Armata.

(Everyone) Marcus barrels toward the burning epicenter where Barghest’s corpse lay. The Wardog cuts through the brush to see his kin’s body burning. The area is thick with the scent of roasting flesh and hair. He watches for a moment as the last living member of his family burns. The indoctrination preformed on Marcus, fuels his beast blood. All manner of savage retribution clouds his mind. With a snarl, he grips his greatswords and begins cutting his way back to the prison.