Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20200707214420/@comment-25808351-20200906000206

Lance/Isaac: Marcus’ room was a showcase of his long and bloodied life. Bones, fangs, hides and weapons were on display everywhere within the room, monsters of old he had slain and people he delt with. A single candle was lit within the room, yet this candle was larger than the ones that were in the halls. It was encased in glass and glowed Cyndwella’s signature violet color.

Marcus was intense, agitated to be sure. Even with the birth of his new daughters, he could not celebrate or even pretend to be jubilant. For he knew the gravity of things to come. Yet he was calm, and steady. Cyndwella’s light watched over him, and Marcus watched the flame dance in the glass while he swigged from a large bottle of rum.

Marcus’ body was mostly shrouded in shadow, his eyes however glowed a bright blue, a sign of his frustration.

“Two....” He starts. “My daughters. Two more reasons I have to do what do. As long as shitheels like Beorthric thrive, I gotta keep fighting...,”

Marcus looks up at Morgan and Lance with his eyes, without moving his head. He’s laidback in an armchair, his legs crossed.

“What you kids want?”