Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20150206093315/@comment-29458028-20150207132727

Raphael leaned against a wall and drank the mead. It helped to clear his head, rather than fog it up, repressing memories that he didn't want to remember. He could always remember the death of his love clearly, though. It haunted his dreams, which was why he created an entire magical passive to allow him to avoid sleep without feeling tired.

She stood in the middle of a field of dead Tsaesci, her sword broken and slicked with blood. Then she collapsed, all her skin flaking off into black, necrotizing flesh, from the tiny, nearly inperceptible wound the Liminal Necrosis had so accidentally opened across her leg.

Raphael had buried her, with her broken sword and the nearly broken Liminal Necrosis.