Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28144855-20190919151013/@comment-25808351-20191006202947

Both Marcus and Cerberus stop to take a breath, a moment to relax. Cerberus plants his sword and crosses his arms. His long trench coat blows in the Battlefield’s breeze. Meanwhile Marcus pulls a cigar from his pocket and lights it, taking several drags from it.

“Getting tired, old man?” Marcus scoffs.

“No, just wanted to monitor the enemy for a moment. Pick our next target....” Cerberus growls.