Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
It’s an offer he isn’t sure Deimos will take – but his shark-toothed grin brightens when the Sword agrees, even going so far as to mention fire which honestly was perfectly up the Ancient’s alley. “Lovely.” He agrees, the cane clicking against the ground as he twists in step, prepared to lead Deimos over toward it (not knowing the history the other man had with the place). “I will never decline a good battle with flame.” He informs Deimos with a warm laugh.
Despite the rain and mud, the training grounds does look different. Rebuilt and adjusted with the expansion of the Grounds since the war – not that Asta would know much in regards to it. The prisons are the same, but they don’t delve out all the way there. Instead, they approach a cordoned off sector beside a building fit with plenty of weaponry and people filtering in and out to practice on targets that have since been replaced and rebuilt.
The butcher drifts in, avoiding the weaponry because their intention is magical skills anyway, heading toward the open expanse of a small muddy field – dried somewhat from other magical means and far less spongy than the walk here had been. Turning to Deimos, the butcher slips out of his overcoat and sets the cane off the side on a fence post, prepping himself for the impromptu training session.
Despite the rain and mud, the training grounds does look different. Rebuilt and adjusted with the expansion of the Grounds since the war – not that Asta would know much in regards to it. The prisons are the same, but they don’t delve out all the way there. Instead, they approach a cordoned off sector beside a building fit with plenty of weaponry and people filtering in and out to practice on targets that have since been replaced and rebuilt.
The butcher drifts in, avoiding the weaponry because their intention is magical skills anyway, heading toward the open expanse of a small muddy field – dried somewhat from other magical means and far less spongy than the walk here had been. Turning to Deimos, the butcher slips out of his overcoat and sets the cane off the side on a fence post, prepping himself for the impromptu training session.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
