Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20180928022429

Prad's sight and thoughts linger away from this place, justifying his surprise as he's surrounded impromptu. Vision of horrid creatures dancing around him, when their actions is alien to his precept. The world he sees is different as well, glared at by the man in gray "Is that not what you wished for? TO be...touched by these 'things'. Rejoice, youngling, your wounds will be unmade by their ghastly hands".

Prad shakes in fear, remembering all too well the last interaction with monsters. At how it cost him so much. Riven in pain, his hands feebly raise in defiance, only for the remembrance of weakness to weight them down. Once more, Prad is helpless, defenceless, a fish lumped at dry land. A bird with a  clipped wing. He is at their mercy...