To transport some wood

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Deimos wasn’t one for multitudes of excuses, but he’d certainly heard many of them in his multiple lifetimes. Usually from fellow constituents, looking to avoid some manner of labor, training, or if the parameters were difficult. “If you truly want to do something, you will find a way.” He shrugged, sipping at his tea again, waiting for a rebuttal. There were few notions that probably wouldn’t fit the bill – but traversing likely wasn’t one of them. “Do you have somewhere you wanted to go?” Torchline was usually warm enough that one could lay out on the sand overnight – with the only worries being the local pickpockets. The Warden wouldn’t be detailing all his difficulties, so he snorted, head tilting vaguely. “Responsibilities, duties, time.” Between roles of leading Halo and his guild, there was always something to do, projects to fulfill, and people to instruct. “So I travel when I get the opportunity.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace