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((OOC: Invite only.))
Dandalas.
Night.
The only source of illumination is momentary, as great bolts of lightning cleave the air and smash into the ground. The rain comes down in sheets, absolutely drenching anything that exposes itself for but a moment.
It takes a strong will to not run for cover instantly. It takes a stronger will to wait, just as a solitary figure was.
Highlighted against the dark skies by the terrifyingly huge bolts of electricity, the outline is similar to a knight from the old, long forgotten times. Except the steed is wrong.
Astride a hilltop, the figure looks down upon a ruined village. His nemesis had been here, not long ago. You could tell, because the place was still aflame, despite the downpour being biblical in it's proportions.
Hitting himself in the face with his palm, primarily out of disdain, he sighs, though it is inaudible over the gigantic storm. Resolving to catch the one that had effectively annihilated the quiet little village, no doubt in the name of "Justice!!", he gently kicked the sides of his steed.
The bipedal, armoured creature uttered a quiet, yet obviously offended, "Kweh" and started off at a gentle trot.
Sir Bertrand de Ridefort would find his nemesis, he always did. It was just a matter of time.
Dandalas.
Night.
The only source of illumination is momentary, as great bolts of lightning cleave the air and smash into the ground. The rain comes down in sheets, absolutely drenching anything that exposes itself for but a moment.
It takes a strong will to not run for cover instantly. It takes a stronger will to wait, just as a solitary figure was.
Highlighted against the dark skies by the terrifyingly huge bolts of electricity, the outline is similar to a knight from the old, long forgotten times. Except the steed is wrong.
Astride a hilltop, the figure looks down upon a ruined village. His nemesis had been here, not long ago. You could tell, because the place was still aflame, despite the downpour being biblical in it's proportions.
Hitting himself in the face with his palm, primarily out of disdain, he sighs, though it is inaudible over the gigantic storm. Resolving to catch the one that had effectively annihilated the quiet little village, no doubt in the name of "Justice!!", he gently kicked the sides of his steed.
The bipedal, armoured creature uttered a quiet, yet obviously offended, "Kweh" and started off at a gentle trot.
Sir Bertrand de Ridefort would find his nemesis, he always did. It was just a matter of time.