Noah
Deimos was once again a master of his own magic. From nothing, the Sword was able to create a massive and beautiful table. The lets were strong and the wood sturdy enough for even the most heated of debates and plans and conversations to be had around it. As always, the Forsaken was impressed with his friend's abilities.
Fox, with the necessary materials, would find his work on the door to go rather smoothly. He was able to adjust it on its hinges so it worked properly, swinging inwards to the great room. He reset the latching system and, as the final touch, sanded and shaved down a stubborn corner of the door where it had bowed and warped slightly and caught the ground (the reason Noah had trouble opening it, paired with the rust).
Having already planned for the window replacement, Noah had gathered the necessary materials. As the other two men went to work, the Forsaken set out his task of the windows. He took down the panes of broken glass and threw them in a bin for rubbish. He wondered as he threw one in if he could take them to glassmaker that worked on the new windows and he could use the old glass. Worth a shot, anyway. He pulled out old nails and then, finally, placed in the new windows. It was a little precarious with the way the wind and rain were working against him, raging inside the building, but with a determined effort Noah finally got everything set.
"Let's just clean up this room and I think we've got this place back into a working order again." He said, then helped his friends shoulder to shoulder clean up the puddles of water, the leaves and branches, and all other manner of debris that came in from the broken windows.
Last round, clean up this room!
Fox, with the necessary materials, would find his work on the door to go rather smoothly. He was able to adjust it on its hinges so it worked properly, swinging inwards to the great room. He reset the latching system and, as the final touch, sanded and shaved down a stubborn corner of the door where it had bowed and warped slightly and caught the ground (the reason Noah had trouble opening it, paired with the rust).
Having already planned for the window replacement, Noah had gathered the necessary materials. As the other two men went to work, the Forsaken set out his task of the windows. He took down the panes of broken glass and threw them in a bin for rubbish. He wondered as he threw one in if he could take them to glassmaker that worked on the new windows and he could use the old glass. Worth a shot, anyway. He pulled out old nails and then, finally, placed in the new windows. It was a little precarious with the way the wind and rain were working against him, raging inside the building, but with a determined effort Noah finally got everything set.
"Let's just clean up this room and I think we've got this place back into a working order again." He said, then helped his friends shoulder to shoulder clean up the puddles of water, the leaves and branches, and all other manner of debris that came in from the broken windows.
Last round, clean up this room!
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
And detached as boats to the dock?
