Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180825215944

(Everyone) The explosion on Pramool’s location expands and grows at Prad’s contribution. The dust is everywhere, smoke and debris lingering as all fall silent.

“He’s alive, there is no doubt.” Armata snarls. “But if we made even a scratch....”

The smoke immediately parts, is pushed away by the very force of Pramool’s power. The ancient chaos god strides forward from the epicenter, unfazed and unhindered.

“I suppose that was meant to injure me?” Pramool looks around at all who surround him. “To try is better then giving in. Though it seems someone else seeks a swift death....” Pramool’s gaze slowly turns toward Prad who has been ignored, until now. Pramool vanishes in the blink of Prad’s eye. With the second blink, the god stands before him. Towering, and agitated. Pramool scans over the young man, but his eyes stop just over Prad’s shoulder.

The gray armored one, Pramool stares directly at the second soul that exists within Prad, as he was as visible as the sun.

“The voice of reason, in a human host. Your logic is wasted on him, spirit. Humans are daft creatures. Ignorant, covetous, weak and blind. Your affiliation with this lot, makes you an asset to they’re futility.... You will die with your host. After all, death is a human’s ultimate reward, for their slowly decaying bodies.” Pramool grips his sword handle and presents the bladed end at Prad.

“On your knees, or feet?” The ancient being asks.