archebold Fear is the price of imagination Archebold entered the shrine, dressed impeccably as always. Ivory scarf draped loosely over his shoulders of his fitted black suit. Polished leather shoes clicked with every step as he examined the shrine studiously. Walking stick held firmly in his gloved hands as he made his way, observing everything around him. "I suppose it is you I should be thanking for this is it?" He asked to no god in particular, but he was addressing them as he stood at the center of the shrine, hands leaning against the golden lionshead knob of his stick. His voice, neutral but always so easily spoken. "Every day, for decades, I dreamed of a world where my kind were free. It is often overlooked isn't it? Free will. Humanity was born into it yet they never truly take advantage of that gift given to them. It's wasted. Yet here I am. Feeling like I've been born again. Just as any child brought into a new world, I have questions. So...is this how this works? They come, and pray, and call with the faith that you will answer?" Archebold asked curiously before taking a knee, leaning against his walking stick. "Is this...sufficient?" |
Tap Tap Tapping in Heaven's Door
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Collector
Age: 91 | Height: 6' 1 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 1 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 7 - Int:
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