Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180721230251

(Everyone) Imperia finally reaches the the campsite, out of breath and tired. She holds Layoka in her arms, the child is also tired and weak, barely able to open her eyes. Alburn’s rifle has fallen silent awhile ago. Imperia can only hope the man who stayed behind for her sake was alright. But she was hopeful for all trapped here.

Armata, Barnabus and Acheron all make their way to the top of the pillar via their smoke form. When they reach the top, they all freeze in place at the site of Pramool, who stoically stares them down.

“Vo’sota koo. Ehtie grou yo’fo sah, Antha.” Pramool’s voice echoes as if they were in a cavern. His thunderous tone rolling for miles before dying out.

“What did he say, Barnabus?” Armata does look to Barnabus, cautious that any small movement could invoke Pramool’s rage.

“I do not know. That is obscure language lost to time and the hells it was created in.” Barnabus is the most fearful of three Higher Vampires that stand before the reawakened god. Pramool’s brow bends inward and his narrow, an expression of annoyance on his face.

“I must speak in this guttural tongue of your’s?” Pramool speaks now in the language, but his voice still carries it’s weight. He walks to the edge of the great pillar he was entombed in, using his sword like a cane or walking stick. He stares out over the lake of lava, observing Tirush and Marcus.

Violetta shambles to her feet, nurturing her scorched flesh. “M-my Lord. These cretinous vermin are the ones responsible for speeding up the resurrection process. They, they and the scaled one ruined the final sacrifice. That is wh-why you are not at full strength.”

Pramool looks over his shoulder at Armata, Jorge, Barnabus and Acheron. His evil gaze then shifts to Violetta, and aura flares. His evil radiates off of him like a musty smell. It assaults the senses and is practically sophisticating. He turns to face Violetta.

“And you, claim no responsibility?” His tone is beyond malevolent. “By my account, YOU are entirely responsible. You and sibling were so focused on sinking into the deepest wells of depravity, that procrastinated on my resurrection. Had you applied yourselves and used logic, you would have completed this task centuries ago. You did not account for the power of the scaled one, thus she and her companions have wrought havoc upon you. And resulted in the death of my son, Barghest.”

“Though not the strongest of my children, his life was worth infinitely more than yours....” Pramool marches up to Violetta and mercilessly grabs a handful of her hair in his armored hand. He yanks her along to the edge of the great pillar he was entombed in.

“P-please my lord, have mercy! Please somebody help! PLEASE, I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” Violetta’s screams go unanswered. She was too weak to transform or fight back. She was helpless as Pramool drags his crimson blade across her throat. He lets her linger for a moment after being opened up. Then, he slings her body out over the edge like trash. And watches as she plops into the churning sea of heat.