Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180714021347

(Everyone) Tirush can see the dust and smoke where Marcus landed. By the sight of tattered shingles on tower roofs and beams which connected towers were smashed through, it was clear Marcus did not fall cleanly. He was bounced between towers like a pinball, breaking through everything in his path.

As Tirush dives toward her prey, he in turn comes to her. The smoke parts as Marcus emerges from it, he is sailing up toward Tirush. They collide into eachother like trucks without brakes. The shockwave from their collision causes damaged towers to crumble, and waves of vibrations throughout the prison fortress. They tumble out of the air and crash through a tower roof.

Tirush finds herself in an unusual room. It was a small laboratory with a small assortment of items meant only for minor experiments and study. A small table of various flasks, jars, beakers and tubes all upon a old half rotted table covered in dust. Small shelves of mismatched books that are not organized in anyway, small cobwebs strung between them. In the window is a small telescope aimed for the sky, but there is dried blood splattered all over it, and a withered corpse lay at it’s stand.

Tirush had just enough time to take in a moment of her surroundings before she whips around to see Marcus’ meaty hand reach out and grab her by a horn. Yanking Tirush close, Marcus clenches his freehand tight, and punches Tirush in the face again, again, and again.

Acheron and Barnabus leap out the hole made by Marcus when he was sent flying. Armata stays behind with Jorge.

“Come Tin man. Tirush will keep Marcus busy, while Acheron and Barnabus wear him down. You and I will deliver the blow that counts. If I can sample the mutt’s blood, I can restrain him by his very core.” Armata shifts his golden eyes to the knight who’s resolve is more stubborn than his armor.