Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-27550231-20180913032335

Jorge stood in awe as Paramool took his true form. He stood in horror as the ancient being exploded exponentially outward and the force of it's explosive growth knocking him on he rear. Paramool had his full attention, that was until he caught glimpse of something falling from the behemoth. A dull rod fell from the beath and planted itself in the ground. He knew that there was no possible escape now as it held dominion over land and air now and soon he would try and expand his reach to other realms... To his home... To his daughter...

Without question or second thought Jorge ran to his sword, planted near Paramool's great toe. He was the only thing that stood before the encroaching chaos and the shreds of his past life. He could not trust the others to fight as savagely as he would. He could not trust others to put in all their effort in the fight to come.He could not trust anyone but himself to love his daughters as much as much as he and thus had to react.

Despite his fear, despite the primal urge to survive urging him to turn away he ran to his sword. He ran to the only thing he trusted enough to stand by his side. Every step he took found purchase in the unstable ground as he ran. He ran against the dust that blew past him. He found purchase on the flying stones that pelted on his armor and face. He ran on the very darkness that was cast upon him by the very evil he would fight against him. He would not stop, his pace never faltered and before Paramool could notice the flea he had his sword.