[SE] ignis aurum probat

DEIMOS

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates

Deimos had only known about the shrine amidst the Atheneum, courtesy of assisting Rexanna with one of her quests some years ago. But given the way the world had altered after the war, perhaps anything sensical should’ve been placed elsewhere – shifted, in some ways entirely, from what had been normal. He shrugged his shoulders, taking the estimation, before meandering into another question – though, mostly from the standpoint of wondering how Kiada had changed through it all. “Was it difficult to transition from Ascended to Ancient?” He presumed there were certain parameters somewhat the same, but key differences lodged in there too.

The Sword only heard a step alteration, glancing back over his shoulder with an arch to his brow, watching, scrutinizing, before leaving the man to study the seam. Pausing momentarily, he scratched the top of Belial’s head, rewarding the young peryton with his efforts of staying close by instead of hastening off once more. “I would not,” for in guild standpoints, the more they expanded their roots, the better suited the rest of them would be. More information, more insight, more experiences, more opportunities. At the acceptance, he gave a brief nod. “I can have some copies of our journals sent your way.”

The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead