Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25218347-20180729204936/@comment-27344811-20180807025746

Back in the halls of Yharim's castle....

The man has little time to scream as his lungs are punctured and then gets his throat split open. The birbs watch as the blood pour out through the groove on the pedestal.

Many think the birb sacrifices are just a shitpost, but no, they have a deeper meaning... as Yharon inhales the flames of the sacrifice's soul.... what they have been wating for arrives. Yharon shrieks as he stumbles off his pedestal, his eyes leaving streaks of fire....

SCataclysm yelps as Yharon lumbers down the hallway, literally on fire, the firing shifting hues. The Devourer watches in interest.

Yharon keeps walking until he reaches the roof, the peak that gives whomever is there a view of the land. Yharon wraps his wings around him as he slowly darkens.

The wings mend together as they become a material similar in texture to stone, but much harder. His once lovely, orange feathers hardening and darkening, his horn falling off, his eyes drying out and cracking as his head is lost within the mass...

What was once Yharon is now a gaint, hot-to-the-touch piece of obsidian.