[b]O'Menus[/b][hr]
[indent][indent]O'Menus had lost interest in the manic death cry of the brain-addled soldier. For no reason in particular he [i]actually[/i] allowed the mortal to finish, though he stared at him with indifference. He took quick note of certain words, factions, and apparent passions before pulling the white sword from the man's ankle. The soldier's blood fell away as if fleeing the surface. Again he glanced at this blade, feeling more and more impressed by it. He'd decided it was his now. Without another word to the soon-to-be-dead man, O'Menus strode away thinking that execution by fire would be too comical considering his dying words. 

Sweeping over the Gods hanging around the priestess, he noticed a skittering goop of green. It went from one stiff corpse to the next until finally the Feral Goddess spotted the graveyard guest. "Could be a Divine," he offered forward without mirth, tensing his hand around the pommel of the white sword. "Even still, this is becoming annoying." An agitated flame danced up his forearm, some shreds of strength blooming inside.[/indent][/indent]