Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26852465-20160318050706/@comment-25547106-20160318213303

In a moment, she began to see, hear, smell, taste, and even feel the battles that Armstrong had been a part of. She saw a grizzled dwarf, unlike any she'd seen before. He stood roughly 4 and a half feet tall, stocky, with a large, thick beard. He was clad in shining silver and gold armor. He raises his shield to the heavens, a white beam rising up into the sky, pearcing the black clouds and a tremendous foot stepping down, a great being, seemingly an old man with a long, red beard of fire clad in white robes with platinum shoulder pauldrons walks down from the sky itself, as though the heavy clouds were stairs.

Next, she saw an ancient elf, his face adourned with a beard, seemingly impossible for his kind, reaching nearly his knees. He draws a sword and breathes deep, releasing a long harmoneous string of chanting notes, his decrepit frame moving with the agility of an elf nearly a 10th his age. His blade ignites with flame as green as emeralds and slices through his opponents, burning the one beside them with a leaping burst of fire. He then brings his hands close to himself, his spell tome hovering around him as he releases a burst of lightning that reached forward and burned through a hoard of undead, undead unlike he'd ever seen before, twisted with vile strength. At the center of the hoard stood a monstrus skeleton, nearly 100ft. tall, looming over the battlefield with its indigo colored eyes. "Cleric! Turn the bloody thing before it eats us alive!" she hears Armstrong's voice boom as he did battle with hoards of skeletons.

"I'm trying! The puta won't look at me!" the dwarf shouts back as his god now fights the undead apocalypse.