Damien began to unpack his bag, laying the equipment out before him. A few rations, some charms, a hearth crystal. All things Damien never left hell without. The hearth crystal was basically a never being source of heat, unless it was broken of course. Damien slipped the hearth crystal around his neck using a necklace chain. The man lit the shadows around him with a faint white fire on his palms and began chanting in the tongue of demons. A brighter white light appeared before Damien, and it began taking shape. The light elongated and grew thinner, taking on the shape of a curved blade. Damien grabbed the light Sword and it immediately faded, revealing a jet black blade with a titanium edge and an obsidian body.
Damien looked over the hill that he was standing on and saw a faint light in the distance. That should be them, he thought, shapeshiftimg into his Drakon form. Damien began to slither towards the light, hugging the shadows as he anticipated the reaping of the sinner Marik.
Damien looked over the hill that he was standing on and saw a faint light in the distance. That should be them, he thought, shapeshiftimg into his Drakon form. Damien began to slither towards the light, hugging the shadows as he anticipated the reaping of the sinner Marik.