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An Old Man's Brief Return.

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A small group of cloaked men begin their journey anew, moving from the Cloud Temple and taking a seat upon a cart. There is silence amongst the group and each stares to the cart's worn flooring. A figure shifts his vision from the flooring to the others amidst the cart. The man's face is worn and covered in scars. His left eye had long since lost it's function and patch now took it's place.

As the cart approaches the new lands, the figure leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. For a moment, he looks out the cart's back, shaking his head in disgust. The cart coming to a halt, he rises and mutters, "Ave Kaedrin," before descending to the dirt.

 

The reason for his return was known to those that welcomed him.

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"And so the Fatherland's baseborn offspring return to the field of battle. My blade will be wet with bastard's blood in the coming days."

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((Stop toying with my emotions.))

 

((No jokes at all.))

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[4/6/2014 10:41:01 PM] Temp: Simply here to kick a man in the nards and burn everything he would see made real.

[4/6/2014 10:41:26 PM] Temp: I offer everything I'd done for the Rose. Be it battle strategy establishing spies or pulling diplomacy.

[4/6/2014 10:41:29 PM] Stereo Czar: And that being?

[4/6/2014 10:41:35 PM] Temp: Maly, of course.

[4/6/2014 10:41:38 PM] Stereo Czar: The man.

[4/6/2014 10:41:38 PM] Stereo Czar: I see.

[4/6/2014 10:41:42 PM] Stereo Czar: Is this a certain grudge?

[4/6/2014 10:41:55 PM] Stereo Czar: Or for sheer entertainment?

[4/6/2014 10:42:38 PM] Temp: I will keep that to myself to avoid quoting to another chat.

 

((the humanity!!))

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((the humanity!!))

((Good job revealing precisely what was thought. Remember Maly, mis-information is much more damaging than no info at all.))

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Alexei Nicodemus peers upwards, as the cloaked figures step off of the cart to the Gates of the Fringe, eyeing the lead figure, his bald head shining like the force of a thousand suns, even in the dim moonlight.  

 

 

 

"Been a while."

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