Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20200423213810/@comment-45964425-20200603210846

"Ah. A man withered with age. My sword has been around longer then you were born, passed down to me by my father, who's father did the same for him. My blade has been enchanted by the finest magic-possessing men of their times. His sword stays with me as a remembrance to the day those dreaded monster-women ripped him apart over who could use him. I was only 13 when it happened, and it left me with a wound that I will never let heal and the time to train and master my father's sword to use against the monsters who took my innocent father's life." Leaning in as well. "My blade has had more blood spilled on it then your's will ever be stained with, if the flimsy piece of metal could stand a swing, that is," he said, putting his hand around his sword as well. "Would you like to see why I've earned the nickname of "Copper Zombie?" he asked, putting a hand on the bottom of his helmet