Deimos still had his team with him, however fractured and different they had become. Kiada and Rexanna, at least, remained with him, grounding him and granting him their strength as they had done in the past. He had found new allies and friends since coming to Caido, as Jigano had, but the bard could not forget that the General had the support of previous worlds and lives to sustain him. Gods willing, he would never find himself so isolated as the bard had been before walls had begun to crumble and emotions to stir for those he had found himself learning to love and trust again.
It went against his grain to let the conversation fade, but he did not try to push it farther when silence fell between them, awkward but not hostile. The wind howled outside, slanting snow past the windows, and he was glad of the General's hospitality and the warmth of his fire until the worst of the storm had blown past, leaving only gently falling snow in its wake. There was much to be done, never enough time, and the wondrous gifts he had received to practice with. The new armor would need to be worn to get used to it, padded where it might chafe, and the crossbow would need testing and retraining to regain his comfort with the weapon and learn the quirks of this new one. It had only been a year since he'd last wielded one, and he hoped it would come back quickly, those reflexes and confidence with goatsfoot and trigger. Accustoming himself, too, to the weight of a shield strapped to his arm and how it would affect both his rapier and his loading of the crossbow.
More and more and more to do, and the daylight fast was burning. He bid his host a quiet adieu and headed out into the snow to begin his tasks anew, willing to wring every scrap of light from the day, and no little from the moon at night to accomplish all that remained to be done.
It went against his grain to let the conversation fade, but he did not try to push it farther when silence fell between them, awkward but not hostile. The wind howled outside, slanting snow past the windows, and he was glad of the General's hospitality and the warmth of his fire until the worst of the storm had blown past, leaving only gently falling snow in its wake. There was much to be done, never enough time, and the wondrous gifts he had received to practice with. The new armor would need to be worn to get used to it, padded where it might chafe, and the crossbow would need testing and retraining to regain his comfort with the weapon and learn the quirks of this new one. It had only been a year since he'd last wielded one, and he hoped it would come back quickly, those reflexes and confidence with goatsfoot and trigger. Accustoming himself, too, to the weight of a shield strapped to his arm and how it would affect both his rapier and his loading of the crossbow.
More and more and more to do, and the daylight fast was burning. He bid his host a quiet adieu and headed out into the snow to begin his tasks anew, willing to wring every scrap of light from the day, and no little from the moon at night to accomplish all that remained to be done.
