Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-26288702-20180404035319

Both Armata and Acheron float down from the spire, they land beside Tirush. Acheron pulls out a set of cuffs just like the ones used on Armata earlier. He locks them on to the Higher Vampire’s wrists and steps back a couple feet.

“Good idea, Acheron. We don’t need this one flying away.” Armata adds. Meanwhile Alburn, who repelled down the spire wall, looks around the area. He finds a nearby wooden bucket that looks well aged. It’s contents are a murky, pungent smelling, stale water. He grabs the bucket and dumps it’s contents on to the Vampire.

The Higher Vampire coughs and thrashes as he is rudely awoken from his forced nap.

“Arrrgh. You damned cretins! How dare you! I... Why can’t I feel my powers.” The Vampire looks down at his wrists and scowls. “Of course, bindings. So what now?”

“We just want to ask you a few questions.” Armata is very reserved, as if he knows what will happen.

“And what makes you think I’ll talk? Just because you have me at a disadvantage, doesn’t mean I feel inclined to talk. Even if you torture me I won’t tell you anything. I fear the Helldog and his comrade more than I do an Anathema or this scaled dreg.” The Higher Vampire barks.

“You hear that, Tirush? He says he isn’t afraid of us. You want to prove him wrong, or should I?” Armata shifts his gaze to the Wyvern.