Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160726175355/@comment-25808351-20160728175516

{How?} was the question that raced through my mind. How can this be Ibrahim? How could I not tell? I know his scent from a mile away. But, HOW does he not know it's me if this is no illusion? These questions only serve to aggravate me further. My cluelessness of the situation building to my defeat at Whitemarch. Regardless, I don't keep the Doctor waiting for an answer any longer.

"The name is Marcus, though everyone just sticks to calling me Hound." I stick my hand out for a hand shake which the Ibrahim respectfully returns. Without fail I reach into my coat and pull a box of Whitemarch Specials cigars. The smell was a fragrant and delightful one compared to the Zahmerian brand I normally smoke. The room filled with a vanilla smell as I puffed it.

"A horse huh? Take it. I only need one anyways."