Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27550231-20170522170711/@comment-26288702-20170624050947

Armata's eyes glance over to Praetor. His expression is a mix of various. His eyes narrow at Praetor's subtle words and he takes a sip of his wine.

Armata:"You live, constant, because of your sky-whore. She sees you returned because you're her champion. To preform the the actions she's too weak to do herself..."

The Vampire looks out the window at the fading sun as they round the mountain's turn.

Armata:"If you died tomorrow, what would it accomplish? You'd be free your pain? No Praetor, you'd simply die a coward. There are events that have yet to occur. When they do, the world will need every warrior she has, to fight away the darkness. Do not throw away the gift I'm giving you. Under normal circumstances, I'd be dragging you from this carriage by your entrails."