Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180825012415

(Everyone) Both Marcus and Armata freeze in place as Tirush charges Pramool. Armata yells out a blood curdling scream. “TIRUUUUUUUUUSH!” Before anyone can react, the mighty Wyvern is knocked aside. Her body mangled and broken, Marcus finds it hard to stand, looking upon Tirush in her state.

Armata however, roars in anger. His fangs bare, his eyes shine like suns as his aura flares to tempos only Marcus has seen. Tirush laying broken upon the foreign ground, lights a primal fire in his stomach. The Anathema Lord opens his palms and slams them together. Red, foul runes form around his clenched hands. Red and orange strings of electricity spring from his clenched fists. Immense heat surges from his body, and his aura surges again.

“Lumina, MOARTA!” Armata opens his fist and points them both at Pramool. Within this instance the clouds part, and direct beam of pure heat rockets toward the ground. Right where Armata stands. The beam, mere inches from Armata suddenly redirects and moves in the direct of Armata’s outstretched hands, toward Pramool.

Pramool covers his face as the giant beam engulfs him, and drive him into a nearby pile of smoldering ruins. Armata looks to Marcus, with pure fury.

“Take her, away from here. Do not delay, mutt.”

Marcus easily protests by growling at the order. However, he puts his pride aside, and shambles to Tirush. Gently he puts his arms under her legs and arms. Being careful not to agitate any injuries. Tirush’s blood fizzles in Marcus’s exposed chest and stomach. Gritting his teeth as Tirush’s blood works like acid, he presses forward.

“W-which way!” Marcus shouts.

“Southeast! Go southeast! You should find a small camp beyond the entrance of the mountain pass!” Barnabus replies to Marcus. Without further delay, Marcus begins running with Tirush in tow.