Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26052600-20160203043235/@comment-26852465-20160222201930

The armor's legs seemed to be ripped from its suit, but the ghost inhabiting the armor floated back, and its legs returned in a coil of astral energy. It had its greataxe back.. but perhaps Armstrong had some sort of Weaponbane, the ghost thought. That in mind.. it targeted DM. Now with its legs back, it stepped toward him, readying the axe.

DM took notice, politely stepping away. ''"Now now, ghost armor.. let's be reasonable, here. I'm not particularly a fighter.. and if you're anything like Sir Moor Dread, or Sir Armstrong.. you'd know better than to attack a noncombatant. It would make your pride a farce.. and everyone will hate you, and everyone will point and laugh at you." ''The ghost armor seemed to ignore all this, and slammed down its axe... where DM's head would have been had he not dived out of the way. ''"Cripes, man, you would have killed me!" '"That was the idea, numbskull!" '"Huh..?" '"I'm trying to kill you, damnit! Is that such a hard concept to grasp!?" '"Yeah it is, actually. I'm not the type to die so easily, so.. heh.. may want to consider another option?"''

The human readied himself in a Monk's fighting stance.. one palm open, the other clenched into a fist. He shut his blind eye.. the other one briming with focus. He was ready for what ever Armstrong had planned. The fact that he didn't even recoil.. didn't seem to faze him. He'd find a way.. "Your fight's with me, Narenyo Tuisas. Leave Artartemer be." Names had been given.