Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180623205618

Armata is the first to make contact with the shifting structure. In his fire and smoke form he crashes through the first stained glass window he finds. Immediately reforming to his natural state, he levitates in the room for a moment before descending slowly to the floor, his red cloak fluttering as if sentient.

The disgraced lord scans the room, a strange site. The room is a condensed study, shelves of books covered in dust and encased in cobwebs. Armata notices a shriveled corpse, sitting in a swivel chair at the one desk present in the room. The corpse is flopped over the desk, it’s jaw open. The Anathema notes the massive gaping stab wound that bares in the corpse’s back, then a similar shaped hole in the floor, in a perfect downward thrust fashion.

“The mutt did this.... Marcus. What did they do to you? Betray your kin? Reject your honor? Attack the unarmed? What did you endure? I still owe you for sparing me, all those years ago. I will see you home to your crazed Wisp and family.” Armata mutters.

Armata wastes no more time inspecting the dead. He marches to the door and opens it without turning the knob. The frame splinters and breaks, a small sliver of wood rockets out as the Vampire rips the door open. Stepping out into the hall, Armata sees bodies, lots of them. They vary, in gender and age. All of them just as fresh as the found one, but positioned as if cut down by a ravenous dog.

“This place was once a home. People used to reside here, keeping watch over this mighty prison.” Barnabus appears behind Armata.