Emjajoas
-
Posts
1,498 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Gallery
Everything posted by Emjajoas
-
Mortimer crumples to the ground, overcome by poison-255.
-
Mortimer ducks behind his shield, positioning himself in front of the party. He fires at Novice Legion A from the Back Row with his Blazing Bow.
-
Mortimer fires his Blazing Bow at Novice Legion B from the Back Row.
-
Mortimer coughs, muttering something about his luck under his breath. He fires at Novice Legion A from the back row using his Blazing Bow.
-
Em fires at Novice Legion A from the back row with Erdy's Handcannon if resurrected.
-
Mortimer repeats.
-
Mortimer fires Erdy's Handcannon at Bonaparte Honor Guard Morgan from the Back Row.
-
Mortimer follows.
-
"Game night," Mortimer mutters, slightly amused. "Sounds a little too inviting for this kind of--" The Warden winces, looking uncomfortable for a moment. He puts a hand up to his eyepatch, touching it gingerly. "H," he recites.
-
Mortimer nods to Hybros in thanks, taking the Chicken Drumstick and eating it thoughtfully.
-
"I agree," Mortimer nods. "We should continue our sweep."
-
Mortimer also follows the path to the exit, covering his face as best he can.
-
Em shakes his head, vision swimming, and rubs his eyes. "Sorry, Hybros," he groans, trying to stand.
-
Mortimer continues on to E5, looting the crate at E4.
-
Mortimer shakes himself off, grunting. "I'll move to E6 after you heal me, Hybros."
-
The Warden eyes the crate located on tile C4. He didn't trust it, for some reason. Thus, Mortimer hesitantly steps over to D5, half expecting it to blow up in his face. He ignores the talk of politics-- it didn't matter to him, after all. He had to keep looking forward, as he had said before.
-
"That kind of--" The Warden's statement is interrupted by a cough, and he pounds at his chestplate for a moment. He takes a deep breath before standing again, nodding to Hybros in thanks. "Kind of blindsided me," he mutters, trying to humour his mistake. He steps to C6 and, knowing that it isn't trapped, steps to C5 afterwards.
-
His success giving him a bit more confidence, he decides to step forward to B5, doing his best not to flinch.
-
Mortimer takes a deep breath, stepping gently on F2.
-
Mortimer nervously shifts in front of the field, trying to make sense of the puzzle. "This is a first," he mutters, getting ready to start walking.
-
Mortimer clenches his hands into fists. "Individuals who think they are doing the right thing are often correct." He pauses for a moment, considering his next words. "Groups... Groups cloud judgment. Groups are often wrong." He takes a breath, letting it out slow, hand hovering over his eyepatch. "There are individuals who are wrong, too-- mostly those vying for Kingship or Godhood. Power over others, often extreme. Though I suppose Kings and Gods can't really be individuals, can they? Hm." His train of thought grinds to a halt, his last "hm" slowly dimming into a sigh. "I don't know what to think, Melvin. Not anymore. I can hardly see ten feet straight-- I can't afford to look anywhere but forward."
-
"You plan to kill gods?" Mortimer glares at the man, frowning, but notices Erik examining the patch over the crimson crownsman's eye closely. "Erik," he calls, shaking his head once he had the man's attention.
-
"I've no intention of letting him go free," Mortimer replied. "But information is valuable, Crimson Crown or not, and I'm sure he'd feel better about dying on his feet."
-
"He can't speak when he's dead," Mortimer mutters.
-
Mortimer steps forward, intending to help haul the rubble off the man trapped underneath.
