Board Thread:Random RP/@comment-26444332-20160810022256/@comment-26210095-20160810182954

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote: A hand unexpectedly whistles through the air, slapping him upside the head and forcing his Stigma down.

'None of that, now. Get a hold of yourself,' A voice says, and Moredel turns to view a young man with brown hair and green eyes, in the robes of an apprentice spellcaster.

'Do you know who and what you are? Give your name and your rank.' He seems to get a hold of himself.

"Mordel... Ravenfield. Acolyte of the Inquisitorium."