Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20181211225019/@comment-30014014-20181226043906

"My oh my...to think you would go so far as to play the peerless defender of the innocent". Host Prad crosses his hands, the words sent back to him passing as nothing more than a fallacy "Surely you needn't to put facade. After all, the history you bear on your shoulders is not shrouded..."

"Have you forgotten the countless dead that stack behind you? The monument of your sums? My kin, dead by your hands, your teeth? I see them, wailing. The whiff of blood since long evaporated from those you used to slaugther, it smells from here. Why play the defender this moment?"

"Besides, I speak of this characteristic, for my sight have witnessed the depth of the uncaring you sprout against the boy. The tribunal...the time before that. You seemed more concerned about imposing your rotted domination on his person as you do this cohort of yours. Just like your blood kin that parade themselves in the damned world. The arrogant, the violent and the cold one. All I could see was the heap of corpses that stood behind them, from the kin that share flesh with mine, exhausted from the tireless work they had placed on them. Discarded and forgotten. And you come to claim they seek the well-being of the people?" Host Prad utters a singular laugh of disbelief "Please, undead, your comedy is at it's utmost".

"And of course we would rebut against the beasts, the horrors. Like the ones you let parade in this domain of yours, in close proximity of humans. The weak-minded as you like to see them fit. You speak of wars we have brought upon your monsterkin when you have placed a hundred on us with no other reason than to inflict attrocities on the defenseless" 

"You speak of my bleak view on the macabre denizen of this place...are you so quick to forget what acts they have done to us? The dead...the suffering. And now, you spin this entire ordeal as if I was found with a lack of care. For every of your kind falling, my kin had suffered a thousand-fold. Men. Women. Children. Dead. And now, you bear this mask of absolution, as if your kind and the jagged beasts in general had forgotten the countless suffering they've imprinted on themselves. AND our kind. I haven't...So forgive me if I keep my skepticism about this sudden heel-turn you are parading in front of me with a pretense of care for the boy you haven't spent a thought about..."

Lightning crashes somewhere near the castle. A bright, violet, screeching bolt of thunder. Speaking of this had reminded host Prad just how much he despises monsterkin. A hatred festered throughout his life, now renewed under the thought of pretense Armata was puppeting before him "What have you about accusing another of poison? WHat last words have you given to millions you've butchered on a whim? What have the wreches you speak for have about the humans they have killed in their eternal unlife? Would you spout the same hypocrisy to all the families you've sent to the graves? Would they? Would this sickening cohort of yours speak the same words to the dead she had commited? Would this festering parody of beasts you shelter offer words of regret for their attrocities? Would you all?"

Another bolt falls outside, semeingly attuned to host Prad's calamity in his voice, cashing with an incredible cacophony.