Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-25808351-20190212224901

(Everyone) Pramool focuses on the secondary vortex conjured by Prad, and then focuses on Prad himself. “Two souls bound to one form. I’ll take a particular interest in tearing the two of you apart.”

“That’s enough, Lord Pramool. We are not here to trade insults or threats. You’ve delivered the swords to us, now if there is no other business I ask politely to leave.” Armata no longer has the benefit of his cloak, only wearing the clothing had on while forging, he does not have the commanding presence as usual.

Pramool smiles and his aura begins to flare. “Indeed. Farewell gentlemen, I look forward to our next, and last encounter.” Bursting into a torrent of flame, Pramool skyrockets back through the vortex he created. As the skies returns to the wain colors of a setting sun, Marcus walks up to his greatswords and tears them from the ground.

“Oh better be ready old man. Cause going to drive these bastards through your heart....” He grips the hilts tightly.