1st Oath of the moment
[Locked to residents of 2237 Stevens street]
[After awakening from... the death or betrayal of every friend he ever had, a huge (6'5) man wakes up in 1950ish clothes, and starts scrambling around his house.]
"no.... Torgaddon... Tarvitz. Aximand Abaddon. Horus" [The last name is almost hissed, a painful sound.]
[he looks down at a hand that is once his, and yet not, utterly lacking in the astartes battle-plate which made him an invincible warrior]
"This is not real."
[he'll head back into his bedroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Taking in perspective.]
"This cannot be real. I am no longer... Astartes?" [he shakes his head.]
[Open Scenario 1#]
[An enormous fair-haired man built like a boulder with muscles is wandering the streets, looking faintly shellshocked. He mutters to himself] "
"This isn't Istvaan..."
[Once he spots you, he'll turn, asking with an expression between desperation, anger, and despair] "Where... am I?"
[Open Scenario 2#]
[The aforementioned enormous man has wandered fairly far afield of mayfield, still shellshocked-looking. Eventually, he'll sit down on a snow-covered bench in the park, apparently not really feeling the winter cold overmuch, breath fogging around his face. He'll sit, looking vaguely uncomprehending, and if you approach, will look up, unable to speak for the moment.]
[After awakening from... the death or betrayal of every friend he ever had, a huge (6'5) man wakes up in 1950ish clothes, and starts scrambling around his house.]
"no.... Torgaddon... Tarvitz. Aximand Abaddon. Horus" [The last name is almost hissed, a painful sound.]
[he looks down at a hand that is once his, and yet not, utterly lacking in the astartes battle-plate which made him an invincible warrior]
"This is not real."
[he'll head back into his bedroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Taking in perspective.]
"This cannot be real. I am no longer... Astartes?" [he shakes his head.]
[Open Scenario 1#]
[An enormous fair-haired man built like a boulder with muscles is wandering the streets, looking faintly shellshocked. He mutters to himself] "
"This isn't Istvaan..."
[Once he spots you, he'll turn, asking with an expression between desperation, anger, and despair] "Where... am I?"
[Open Scenario 2#]
[The aforementioned enormous man has wandered fairly far afield of mayfield, still shellshocked-looking. Eventually, he'll sit down on a snow-covered bench in the park, apparently not really feeling the winter cold overmuch, breath fogging around his face. He'll sit, looking vaguely uncomprehending, and if you approach, will look up, unable to speak for the moment.]