Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190303210034/@comment-27550231-20190406151152

The Warden. Praetor. Jorge... he closed his eyes to the sight before him attempting to shut off the world around him but it was pointless. It had already been burned into his mind.

"Lord save me from my stupidity and deliver me in my hour of need."

He slashed his sword back and basked in the utter silence of what once was a raging battle. His heart pounded in his ears, sweat ran down his neck, his body numb and cold. He did not want to be here, he wished that he never opened his mouth he felt... embarrassed.

"Stand back and do as he says! I called for this and by God will I reap what I have sown!"

He opened his eyes. His resolve steeled and his regrets all but abandoned.

"May the better half stay standing Dark Lord."

Jorge, Praetor, The Warden, The Champion, Beast of Lescaite, Slayer of Dragons, Devourer of Cities, The Heartless, Bearer of Many Names raised his sword once more and pointed it towards Paramool and waited for him to to respond.

"Where I am from we touch blades as a symbol of honor and adherence to the rules. It is meant to represent the shaking of hands between civilized men this represents the final connection between warriors about to meet their end."