Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20181124071919

(Jester) “Years? They are a grain of sand. Slowly they pour one speck at a time. Every moment, every second, every minute, every hour, every day, week, month, year and decade.” Armata shifts away from Prad. The most proud and renown Vampire in this world strides to an armor set Dwarvin in make yet baring a Vampiric touch. Armata places his hand upon the glass. His eyes close as he presses his hand as well to the glass that surrounds it.

“When you lose all that held your heart.... Every second, is a second longer than you would hope for. Days grow too long. Months, too long. Years, too long. Decades, torturous. What purpose is an Immortal life, if you have nothing to keep you from losing yourself? Eventually, you find yourself seeking that journey’s end....”