Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-30014014-20190212040629

Prad refrains from wording anything back to the entity who just spotted him as nothing more than meatshield, instead opting to drive his hands in his pockets, his mask and hood sufficent enough to hide the somewhat distraught expression underneath.

The man in the wall keeps his seat atop the roof, a machination of horror, a blistering wound just barely covered on this plane of existence "And so comes the king, to sap the morale of this circus of animals that congegrate in this palace, judging them for their worth. All, wanting, through his rotted eyes, a court martial since long derelict".

Despite his words, he had no qualm about his judgement of the host he trails behind, let alone mirroring his thoughts about the recent happenings.