Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20141217155427/@comment-5824038-20150120175916

(It's steampunk. No Tesla coils yet, and rifling hasn't come about. The Daedra Louis SYphre introduced rifling, but it never caught on. And T050189, you're welcome to join the RP. Just, to any potential new players, you must understand that I'm not particularly active, and can only come on a few times a day. This means the RPs aren't very fast, and also I dislike having to read billions of new posts every time I log on.)

Meledran looked pitifully at Ada. ''My love... what has happened to you? What is going to happen to you?''

'We have to go,' he said simply. He was trying not to give away the emotional turmoil inside him.

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(Alador - this is going to lead into one of the flashbacks we discussed in chat ages ago, if you want to do any of them then let me know. Otherwise, I'll write them myself.)

The nobleman sighed, and sat down. He poured himself a glass of brandy, and slowly sipped it. He reached up, and placed his top hat on the dresser. ''Why must such parties always end in destrucion? I am trying to save these people, and this is how I am repaid?''

After a while of sitting there, the nobleman got up. In the adjacent room was an altar lit by candlelight, with a pentagram drawn in red chalk around the base. He got out a knife, and cut his arm, so that his blood dripped onto the altar. The blood hissed and fizzed, and then his vision went cloudy.

''Marya... Marya... Marya...''