[attr="class","technoscroll"]
H
e was only able to catch the tail-end of the Beastman's question when he emerged from the fog, having just recently gated in himself. To be in a Dungeon with other Players immediately pushed his guard up, moreso due to the fact that he'd have to put up his best 'Player' impression. But, what did a typical Player sound like? What sort of words did they use?
Gorre's single eye wandered about his surroundings, keeping a careful, but reverent gaze upon the scant motes of spirits that floated freely throughout the graveyard. The stale air, the stench of death... it made him restless. The land radiated with a power that he could not help but be repulsed by. What was it that bound these spirits here?
The World was filled to the brim with secrets, so much that one might find some hidden underneath literal rocks. All the more, he had a purpose to such a search.
Hood flapping behind him, and appearing from the mist as if he, himself, was one of the dead, the AI stood just behind and beside Talebrook, his lips curled in a small, thin smile.
"I would wonder the same," he answered, a third voice cutting through the literal dead air.
"Though, if they are the spirits of the dead encased in solid forms, it may end up being the sword that wields its user."
The young man took another few steps forward, slowly sauntering past the Harvest Cleric to stand between the two, his eye continuing to lose itself to the sights that the Area provided. It was odd and nearly uncomfortable to be immersed in the presence of strangers, but he'd take this opportunity to practice playing pretend as opposed to declaring himself immediately. A little bit of the others that he'd encountered thus far, mixed with his own, genuine self.
"Are you two hunting for ghosts as well?"
