On the Edge of Something

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The circumstances were strange and awkward, made all the more by Ronin’s sudden appearance. “Just exploring,” called out over the range, because pettiness and spite didn’t sound like objective reasons anyone else would yearn to deal with, but then the Supernova was meandering straight into a sword and any sidelining the Sword might have opted for ceased. Advancing forward, he watched as the soldier (?) angled and twisted himself so Ronin remained out of harm’s way. “Sorry,” Deimos apologized out of reflex, before tilting his head at the demigod. “You all right?” Shaking his head towards…Zaviene intoned some manner of peace between the juxtaposition, hitching the bag of holding further up his shoulder. “Nothing planned – I have never been to this part of Stormbreak before.” He could see why the training might be optimal here; less and less people, save for them, currently. Extending his hand, he offered his own set of introductions. “I am Deimos.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace