Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180401013134

"Sir...I'm not sure what to do. He's initiating combat with a verbal persuation attempt" Prad continues to whisper as he stays tethered to the darkness of the doors, his eyes passed beyond the initial fright that the new stranger spewed out. While quivering, his voice had fallen flat with a certain composure "I'm afraid, sir..."

He takes several steps back to back the doors, silent as possible. His left hand goes for the used up bandages that adorned his arms. A few centimeters rolling up the arm in an attempt to survey the regeneration process of his reckless abandon previously. A light in this choking darkness: his lightning-struck injuries are gone.

His breathing slows down to a crawl. The frantic quiver freezes to a still. Still kneeled down, Prad starts surveying the combat situation, noting Tirush's opened strike negated by the stranger. Prad's eyes briefly click with the deafening tumble of thunder striking just outside of the castle, his words placid "...I understand".

He sits by the darkness, slowly uncovering the bandages revealing newed flesh, his eyes fixated on the stranger with an unnatural calm demeanor. Almost as if help was on the way, he waits...