Snippet #2763053

The last occupant stepped aboard, a Deathknight formerly known as Dresden, a ghostly pale man dressed in all black armor, reeking of funeral unguents, and holding a chain that was attached to a metal collar around a human male. Only a few short minutes after he did, the Caste mark above his brow brought forth the ire of one of the boat's occupants. Upon seeing his caste mark, Astrid stopped admiring the handiwork of the boat, taking her fingers from where they had been ran along the engraving. She stood from her seat, angrily striding over to The Artisan That Which Souls Cling.

Growling, her anima beginning to flicker and Caste mark becoming evident, as she assumed one of her True Forms. A hulking cross between human and tiger, with some features akin to that of a serpent. "Deathknight." Her eyes burned with malice, as she stepped forward. "You die now."

The Deathknight, recoiled, whimpering as he produced a small honeycombed piece of white jade that made an angry buzzing noise. "S-stay back. I'll use this!" He stepped back a few feet, his back hitting the bow of the boat. "G-guys? A little help here!? The invitation didn't mention psychotic Lunars!"

The 'psychotic Lunar' turned back to the cloaked figure, demanding answers. "What, Is HE doing here? How am I supposed to make myself comfortable with this, FILTH, on the same vessel as me. A servant of the Neverborn, within claw's reach, give me one reason I shouldn't gut him right now!" Astrid spat out, with hatred, eyeing the Artisan. She truly despised Deathknights, and for good reason.