Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-26288702-20180327035714

(Ibs) While the group chats, Armata occasionally pans his gaze toward the ceiling of the cabin as he hears Tirush adjusting herself. With each adjustment and repositioning, the roof beams creak, and bits of dust gently fall to the floor. He thinks back to the village, and the sheer pain Tirush felt. Armata found himself feeling sympathetic, Tirush not being used to a world of true monsters. A world where Humans are stalked for food and at certain times for sport.

Like a ghost that was never even there, Armata slowly turns to red smoke and rises up the chimney till he fumes out of the opening at the top. He whisks down and reforms on the roof, his balance superb as he stands on the triangular rooftop. His cloak moves with the strong cold wind that rushes over the plains, yet he seems unfazed by it.

“I take it all has been quiet out here... not surprising.” Armata turns and faces the horizon Tirush scouts. He crosses his arms and stares off into the distance with her. “With all this nonsense Barghest is causing these lands must be forsaken at this point. Then again, they always were.” The Vampire Lord's eyes shift to Tirush then back to the horizon.

“These lands are bitter and cold, out here is where ancient fortresses were established to house and punish Anathemas. I still remember my father, telling me stories of his days as a council member, and traveling to neglected places like this. So many dark corners, so many blackened caverns remaining unchecked. No wonder Barghest was able to amass an army of Lesser Vampires. How often does a Death Dealer or Hunter get out here to check for nests...” Again Armata looks to Tirush, he can plainly see the sadness on her face, and wagers her longing for home.

“We will find Imperia and Layoka soon.”