Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20181209215355

"Yes, little lamb. Relax. You are among...

...friends" the voice puts weight on the last word, reiterating the banquet of horrors Prad has been subjected to. The harrowing wind of malice cutting through in a claw of crimson, domination of the undead vampires. The dead and deseaced amassed on the table, fed upon by the beasts. Prad takes a gander at his hands, silently agonizing under the vision.

Yet quick to dismiss then, turning to Jorge "Of course sir".