Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190303210034/@comment-25808351-20190615015758

“You ready to make such a sacrifice?” Marcus exhales as he continues to compensate for his wounds.

“Ever sense Deidre fell.... She was everything. I had not known happiness until she became part of my life. With her death, all concept of happiness I had, died with her. To awaken miserable and then lay down the same.... that is no life worth living.” Armata looks upon the approaching Pramool and steps back, giving Marcus the frontline.

“What of the Covenant?” Marcus looks over his shoulder.

“If they cannot thrive off what I have built, then they do not deserve to thrive at all.” Armata says with a sneer. Marcus begins to walk away, but Armata stops him. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Marcus looks back quizzically. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a flask adorned with the Jaghund family crest. Marcus tosses it to Armata, who then catches it. Armata unscrews the cap and takes a long pull from the steel container. The Vampire lord begins coughing as he downs his last gulp.

“How do you drink such filth?” Armata pats his chest, before tossing the flask back to Marcus.

“Always found it a bit sweet myself.” Marcus chuckled. He the drinks the rest of the flask in a matter of seconds. “Gonna need it, I’m about to be in a shitload of pain.”

Marcus and Armata stare at eachother before shaking hands.

“Guess we will never finish that rivalry?” Marcus smirks.

“Maybe in another life....” Armata smirks back.

Marcus turns and marches toward Pramool, cradling his wounds and brandishing his vicious hunting knife. The Wardog was about to clash with the AllFather, one last round.