Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-26288702-20180314044044

“Then it is settled. Follow me.” Before Armata leads the group to the teleportation room, he sidetracks and informs a guard of the mission at hand. The guard immediately runs off to alert higher ranking members to begin substitute leader roles.

The group follows Armata well past his throne, and down a long solid grey stone hallway lined with torches held up by black iron holders that stick out from the wall. Further down the hall they tread, until they come to a room that looks like more of a sacrificial chamber than a teleportation room. Large etched paths line the floor that all interconnect at the middle of the room. Large statues of various gothic themes line the perimeter of the strange circle. But at it’s center is a small pedestal unlike any most have seen.

It is built into the floor, and has deep carved lines in it that connect to the ones on the floor. At the center of the pedestal is a large torturous looking spike with five holes surrounding it. Armata glides up to the pedestal and extends his right hand over the spike. Slowly he slides each f his fingers into a hole, then he presses his palm down upon the spike, which pierces up through the top of his hand.

Armata shows no sign of pain, as he impales his hand. Slowly his blood travels down the the etched lines of the pedestal and begin flooding the etching on the floor. The blood flow naturally through every etching and rune, until the floors markings are red and visible. Suddenly a giant rift tears open between two statues. One is of an angelic looking being stretching out her arm and index finger, while the other is of a more demonic being outstretching his own arm and finger. The statues face each other, the rift opened perfectly between them.

Without saying a word, Armata rips his hand from the pedestal and marches off through the rift. The others follow into the rift and are treated to a sight seen only by those who walk the plains of existence via Vampiric design. They walk a long crimson corridor with a pitch black ceiling. The floor and walls flow and churn like blood, yet the group walks upon it as if it were solid ground. They walk for what feels like an hour, until they see light. The light grows slowly in size as they continue forward, until finally they pass the threshold.

The group finds themselves in a similar room to the one they were previously in. At first glance one could not tell the difference, begging the question of whether or not even left. Yet Armata moves on, not waiting for questions. He marches to the end of the room and pushes against the wall. With a loud screech of stone rubbing against stone, the wall shifts and push inward, revealing a room, what looks like a study.

The thick layers of dust and numerous cobwebs are an immediate give away that this study has been abandoned for a VERY long time. Armata swipes and swats at the cobwebs, tearing down the forgotten projects of previous small spider residents. Finally he makes his way to the door at the end of the room and opens it. The group then finds themselves looking over a banister at the interior of giant mansion that has been long sense forgotten. With no one to care for it, it’s once beautiful tapestries, statues, bookcases, displaycases, flower in vases have all succumb to the ravages of time.

Armata continues his determined march past all this, but everyone can see clear as day why. There at the center wall piece of the place, is a family portrait. The brass title plate of the painting says, “House De’Sange”.