Lazaro1505
Skeleton Boi
Black Prior/Vortiger
It seems that what he just said should have been already answered, for the General accepted the sword from him and spoke more. Until the part where he wanted to know his name, to which the Black Prior responded without missing a beat, “Vortiger, Black Prior of the Wings of Valor forces.... anything else would just be a waste of time...” he said as he saluted the General for a few seconds, his face still showing no emotion. He then went back to rest, as.... a thunderstorm seemed to appear out of the blue. What’s worse, was that it seemed to directly only target their own forces, except, none of them, so why was a storm targeting mostly Galarians. He paid no mind, as he decided to wait by the side of the General for the rest of the battle, since the others clearly show much more better skill, and already dealing with the last of the Orcs.
A few days..... to him, it was the most peaceful few hours, especially since the constant rain didn’t bother him much throughout the journey. It was a good thing most of his equipment and clothing were rain-proof, though, he couldn’t say the same for his makeup, which was starting to drip down his eyes much more than normal. Still, he marched along with the forces, saying a sentence to himself in Latin “Ut avertam faciem meam a nobis deos, qui nos Fortians .... sed est ultima in fine risu ..” (English: The gods may frown upon us Fortians, but it is us who laugh last in the end) as he continued marching, until seeing the city he will forever hate to his heart’s desire..... Heidel. No matter how many times he may have been here, it won’t change the sudden boiling of his blood, and the pumping of his heart quickening with each step into what was once enemy territory.
Still, he won’t be like this for long, but it will take a while before he reach calm levels once more. The General needs to go to the Grand Plaza for something, to which he simply scoffed and went to a nearby wall. Resting his bones by sitting against the wall, he would wait until the go sign to begin marching again, or his ‘teammates’ going up to him and trying to start a conversation, to which he may either ignore or talk depending on the situation. Talking ain’t his mainpoint, and it will probably not be improved until the end of his life in a battle, because that is the only place he can feel truly at home. Still, he has allies to protect, and he is a man of his word, but sometimes.....
“Desinat infernum utinam ....”
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