DEIMOS
Corpses burned; whatever remained of their electrocuted, barbed, and pierced portions eventually chiseled away into ash and dust and filaments. In between the infernos, Deimos made sure Zuriel healed up the family, especially the twitching individual, and before long creation magic, woven together with the elements, hastened and ensured their wagon was good to go – mended to original, if not slightly more improved, form.
The Sword made quick inspection of everything else, rounding over to grant a juvenile grin to Jack and the fellow Halovian; always content to see a range of enchantments and vehemence on display. “Good work.” Turning to Iskra, he jutted his jawline in the direction of the previously zapped stranger. “Maybe give an apology before they head out?” That way there could be an extension of gratitude both ways – perhaps – if there was an explanation involved. Deimos had once had to do the same thing, though one could argue his had been both accidental and indifferent.
Then there was the matter of the memory mud blocking the caravan’s wheels, but the Warden figured that’d be an easy fix, and then everyone could be on their way. “We can take care of this,” pointing to the grime, which was now forming itself into a makeshift snowman…mudball. “Then we should be good to go.” And a little fun last-ditch pulse of elements and incantations to send things off.
--
Help get rid of the memory mud by the wagon wheels (using your magic, of course)!
The Sword made quick inspection of everything else, rounding over to grant a juvenile grin to Jack and the fellow Halovian; always content to see a range of enchantments and vehemence on display. “Good work.” Turning to Iskra, he jutted his jawline in the direction of the previously zapped stranger. “Maybe give an apology before they head out?” That way there could be an extension of gratitude both ways – perhaps – if there was an explanation involved. Deimos had once had to do the same thing, though one could argue his had been both accidental and indifferent.
Then there was the matter of the memory mud blocking the caravan’s wheels, but the Warden figured that’d be an easy fix, and then everyone could be on their way. “We can take care of this,” pointing to the grime, which was now forming itself into a makeshift snowman…mudball. “Then we should be good to go.” And a little fun last-ditch pulse of elements and incantations to send things off.
--
Help get rid of the memory mud by the wagon wheels (using your magic, of course)!
think about this
you have the ability to survive anything
you have the ability to survive anything
