Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160303163426/@comment-5824038-20160308192056

In an instant Glorfindel leaned forwards and grabbed the rim of Dunistair's armour, gripping it just below the collar.

'Never, ever, compare me with the despaired! You think my view is deluded and blissful!?' the Brass Knight snarled, for the first time becoming hostile. 'You'll get your memories back, don't worry, and then you'll lose them again! And then again! And again! Until you don't even remember your own mother's face or name. They realised too late the nature of our dying world, they could not come to terms with it on their own, and that is why they sit there rotting. Do not let yourself become like them.'

He let go of the Breton's armour and began to stride away, back to the camp.