DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Deimos waited patiently; a composition of stone and indifference. The man meant nothing to him, so he could wail away behind the icy wall and continue to be ignored. Only after Zavien appeared with the leather straps did he arch his brow, for he could easily create handcuffs if need be, but the Dragoon seemed adept and set.
It’d be easier to take the stranger elsewhere without unnecessary dead weight, though the Sword had a feeling he wasn’t going to be cooperative either way (and it was still very tempting to knock the man unconscious). Opting to alter his incantations so the icy fragments continued to smother and sandwich the beastly burden, he then opened a small section in the particles to allow Zavien an opportunity to place such restraints upon the cretin. Even as he spouted a hundred different curses and oaths; the magic would be enough to keep him contained. “Let me know when you are ready.” Then they could make their next set of motions.
It’d be easier to take the stranger elsewhere without unnecessary dead weight, though the Sword had a feeling he wasn’t going to be cooperative either way (and it was still very tempting to knock the man unconscious). Opting to alter his incantations so the icy fragments continued to smother and sandwich the beastly burden, he then opened a small section in the particles to allow Zavien an opportunity to place such restraints upon the cretin. Even as he spouted a hundred different curses and oaths; the magic would be enough to keep him contained. “Let me know when you are ready.” Then they could make their next set of motions.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
