I carried my own ashes to the mountains
While Belial entertained himself hovering and growling at nothing, Deimos waited for the arrangements to flicker into place. The agreement seemed swift, and so he narrowed his eyes, and nodded, placing the gloves into Astaroth’s grasp.
There was a snort at the indication of tournament participants. “Oh? Not going to be two of you?” The Sword had never discussed the fairness of everything involved in the matters - had taken it all in stride and still won, but there’d been several moments within that he wondered had been completely necessary. Like knocking his soul out of his own body. “Are there any specifics you want to work on?” His awareness of Ancient tactics only truly involved Kiada’s abilities, and certainly more centered and focused on the aspects of fire, or glamour. Already beginning to turn and shift his long strides away from the Ancient, to perhaps buy the other man some time, strategy, and semantics, while the Warden plotted his own.
There was a snort at the indication of tournament participants. “Oh? Not going to be two of you?” The Sword had never discussed the fairness of everything involved in the matters - had taken it all in stride and still won, but there’d been several moments within that he wondered had been completely necessary. Like knocking his soul out of his own body. “Are there any specifics you want to work on?” His awareness of Ancient tactics only truly involved Kiada’s abilities, and certainly more centered and focused on the aspects of fire, or glamour. Already beginning to turn and shift his long strides away from the Ancient, to perhaps buy the other man some time, strategy, and semantics, while the Warden plotted his own.
DEIMOS
