Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-25808351-20180903200022

(Everyone) Armata slashes into the dust and smoke, hitting nothing but air. In shock he looks around for the ancient god, and swiftly cast down by a backhanded strike that sends him skipping across the ground like a stone. All can hear Armata’s bones break and shatter with each skip. The ground churns and chunks are uprooted as he skids to a halt.

Pramool turns to face Jorge. Unwavering, unflinching. The ancient stands still as Jorge’s blade drives deep into it’s target. But Pramool shows no sign of pain or suffering. His armored fingers grip Jorge’s neck tightly, and hoists the knight off the ground.

“The first to pierce my flesh in several thousand years.... You are truly a god’s prodigy. Though this is your last bout....” Pramool then backhands the captured knight. Jorge bouncing across the ground same as Armata and Tirush.

“All will know the futility of facing me. All must suffer my wrath. My children will inherit the realms and my kin will reign supreme. Your gods have forsaken you, for they kneel to me! Except your fates. Embrace death, and die with your honor intact. Your days are limited, mine are endless. I don’t I’ll prevail....” Pramool draws his blade and walks toward Jorge.

(At the Campsite) “You brought this madness upon us! You are responsible all that follows!” Imperia screams. “She’s dying Marcus.... You helped create this.”

“Then I have to fix what I’ve broken. I will see Pramool returned to sleep. I swear my soul on it!” Marcus looks over his shoulder at churning dark clouds above the battleground of Pramool.