Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190303210034/@comment-25808351-20190406011522

(Everyone) Marcus looks up from the old one of his blood. He notices the fear of the soldiers, and Jorge’s staunch demeanor and fortitude holding back the wave. He notices the giant beast, Grimgarl, barreling toward Pramool, who is under foot. The world slows in Marcus’ mind as he breathes deep the pungent air of this battle. Everything around him slows, he can feel it all to well, the curse that is his lineage, but also the gift of it.

“I cant escape it....” Marcus mumbles to himself. Pramool squirms free from Marcus easily and grabs him. The ancient evil tosses Marcus at Grimgarl and explodes from his current spot. Pramool crashes down before the wall of soldiers. The ancient god slowly approaches Jorge specifically, as if the soldiers around were but inconsequential pests.

“I remember you. You have lead these cretins well, but you know all too well the ultimate outcome....” The vicious crimson sword of Pramool materializes in the old one’s hand.