Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20170203013433/@comment-5583506-20170222204615

Deaphanie walked over the remains of the Frumentarii, whistling some tune since long before the Great War as she looked down upon each and everyone of them indifferently. Where she had seemed so positive and chippery before, she now seemed rather cold and uncaring.

"How many bullets spent, Ward?" shrugged Pestin.

"Eleven", he grunted.

"Hah! Seems like you do not live up to your w..."

Ward's dead eyes just stared at Pestin as one of his revolvers unloaded one last bullet into an already dead Frumentarii. "Twelve."

"Doesn't count. Bastard was already dead."

"Never promised that I would be the one to kill them."