Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-29038468-20200821025708/@comment-29038468-20200925062642

Ser/Abyss: Ophelia's mere presence sucks the energy and life from the very plants surrounding her. Her eyes set on Glen, the expression on her face is not one of lust or hunger, but of rage. She walks ever so slowly in his direction. The town is rather still, not bogged by any of the worlds troubles right now. There are a few uncertain stares in Straid's direction but nobody does anything, they carry on as normal. No mercenary here, perhaps in the town hall?

Tikkit: "Yes actually, I'll be honest, I'm not fond of your kind. There are very few that I have to tolerate, Elanor's pet projects just so happen to be one of them. I granted the foolish request from the Arch-Magus to allow you to come here and 'help' as he put it. I'm not a dog sitter, I'm an Order Captain. Don't muck this up or else. Do I make myself clear?" He asks.