Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20180914034937

Prad's broken body lies still, unhinged by the colossal tide of unholy power rifting through the plains, all sourced from Pramool's unshackling of might. The tide crosses the young man's gaze long before the speed of sound has time to travel across. His eyes barely change, noting a noticeable stare of anticipation "So the dark one now unravels his true self. Echoing his manifest...his ultimatum onward this realm. The exiled can hear it. The faltered knight can see it. The hybrid can feel it. Can the new gods sense it? The encroaching return of one long banished before. What will this makeshift group go for help? One is injured. One has given up. One had stowed his pride. And yet the other is crippled..."

Prad looks to the horizon, catching a glimpse of the towering old one. Nostalgia perfumes his senses "An old enemy returns. From the steeps of the Circadian Eons. His fight is against his own, rejected by one's own children. A parent announcing his return, to punish such rebellous offsprings. My drifters move away, their sight but a gateway to my spectating. Show me what you once wrought, genesis of deviants..."