Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20180624203338

Prad follows behind them a hand behind him, clutching the dagger he was given. His eyes are none focused on the dead, as they are different to the sight he gave before. Grave, grim, awaiting. Quiet as the dead that surround his feet, he continues on following, a phantom in the storm.

Clouds gathering outside the domain, blending in the lightless night, shushed in impatience. Once more, an alien bolt is already poking its head outside...