Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20180414093736/@comment-7262318-20180424202346

Alvoran woke up a long time ago, but he had merely elected to lay in bed and try to think. Last night was amazing, sure, but that little voice of reason in the head was louder now that he could clearly think. Now that the night was over, it was only regret that he felt.

This wasn't him. Out there killing people for the sport of it, being swarmed by prostitutes and masseuses. That's not how he did things. In the heat of trying to prove himself to Graicus and the crowd, it seemed like he had forgotten that.

Honor. He let that word sit in his mouth for a while. Maybe that was the issue he had with the whole thing. The one thing that he was taught when he was young, was to hold onto that. Never sink low enough to cheat, to swindle, to sin, and so on. Look at him now, though. Talking trash to people he brazenly slaughtered with thousands of witnesses. Associating with con-artists, drugged maniacs in the Bloodworks, and whores.

This had to stop. This wouldn't be what dictated him. He slowly rose out of bed and went in search of the Arena's manager. He would get his money, leave, slay the Vampire, and never speak of this ordeal to anyone. He also wanted to do this without having to look Graicus in the eye...