Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160714040922/@comment-28358106-20160716020754

The Lizardman grabs the sword and leaps up, gritting her teeth. She launches into the two closest soldiers, her blade flashing, the soldiers unable to keep up. Within eight or nine moves, she has them both down. She turns to the last one  "Awright, you bastard, c'mere.  I got somethin' for you."

He lunges at her. "Harlot!  I'll have you down for your insolence."

The last of the soldiers falls beneath Hound's crushing blows, their bones breaking with a sickening crack. There is something off about their flesh, the way it feels. Hound knows that they once were human, but no longer...but they no longer move.

The paladin Praetor caved in stands up, his body contorting in a way it shouldn't. His voice is muffled as it gurgles in his helmet. He doesn't move to attack; it's doubtful he could in his state.

"Your day is coming, heretic," he says. "Though you are not the one we need.  Think on what you left behind as your flesh is eternally stripped from your bones.  There will be sonnets written about the pain you will endure."

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