Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-27550231-20180817041629

Praetor's body limply contorts as Marcus drags him along by the collar, his bodily fluids seeping through the gaps of the armor. He did not respond how could he? There was no air in his lungs to form words with. There was no blood pumping through his veins as it was all pouring out of him. And the firey gleam that was ever present in his eyes was now extinguished. All that remained were embers of his passion and rage as he continued to clutch onto his corrupted horn blade.

Unbeknownst to Marcus, Praetor was dead. Just as when he first fought against Armata, when he fell at his cold hands time and time again. But as uneventful as his death was it witnessed and forevermore would live on in their memories be they mortal or eternal.