Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27550231-20170522170711/@comment-26288702-20170704012020

"Armata scans Praetor and notices his eyes looking at his plate. A tiny smirk creeps onto the Vampire's face as he immediately understands what is on the titanic man's mind.

Armata:"Patience Tin Man, your supper is on the way. I promise it will be edible. To answer your question. This Covenant, is an organization composed of several, powerful Vampiric houses. 4 to be exact, hence the 'Four Wings'. House Altovadus, Imperia's family, owns this castle. The Covenant originally sought to control land and influence people, because of Imperia those goals have changed. Her objective at this point, is to make the Covenant a large part of the global community. Forming alliances, trade, etc. Imperia feels there is much the Vampiric race can offer the world. In a way, I agree."

A servant strolls out of the kitchen area with a glass and pitcher. She sets them on the table in front of Armata, bows and leaves.

Armata:"It is a noble goal, one worthy of supporting. Vampires are immortal, there for we can master many crafts you mortals can't and create wonders when motivated. But perhaps you want to know why I'm here, instead of preparing a second army intent to wipe out your kind... It's because I owe this Covenant. When the mutt released me, I flew from the field as far as I could. My wings were crippled, so it wasn't long before I fell from the sky and was cast to the earth."

He pours the pitcher's contents into the glass. Praetor's keen eyes can tell right away that it is blood.

Armata:"I crawled, like a parasite, for hours. Desperately trying to put as much ground between me and everything. My mind raced with questions. 'Would the mutt change his mind, track me down, and remove my heart?' Or 'would Wulf order his men to hunt me down and burn me?' So many possibilities. For the first time in my unlife, I was scared, Praetor. Until a carriage stopped in front of me. Imperia leapt from the carriage to my side. For several days I laid in a bed, while tubes fed blood into my body. I was alone, with nothing but my thoughts."

Armata:"What happened at castle Nemuritor is in the past. You need not apologize for killing those insects. They were nothing more than cannon fodder. If you're going to apologize for anything, apologize for destroying that chair I showed you... I spent a great deal of time on that."

Just then another servant emerges from the kitchen with a platter. Steam rises from the plate, and the room is filled with the scent of cooked, seasoned meat and vegetables. The servant sets the platter before Praetor. The giant beholds a thick steak, well seasoned with a generous amount of mixed vegetables. A piping hot bowl of gravy and an assortment of condiments to choose from.

Armata:"Mind how you eat tin man, your throat is still healing." He sips the glass of blood."