DEIMOS
They believe nothing can reach us
And pull us out of the boundless gloom
And pull us out of the boundless gloom
Once they’d run through their initial festival preparations, there was really only the stalls and their specific necessities left. The Artisan’s Guild, small but mighty, had their own contingents and abilities, capable of mustering anything and everything within their capacity – but this was a time to showcase their wares, and possibly recruit. Weren’t there enough purveyors, merchants, and vendors of goods throughout the Hollowed Grounds? Wouldn’t there be some others interested?
A two-fold mission then: he strode over to their selected area, eyes drifting over the repaired construction, checking over the alterations and timber (just in case; though he knew Amalia and her crew had done meticulous work), before stepping back and drawing up another list for materials, designs, and anything else they’d likely require. They’d need signs, a multitude of them, and he’d already started to drag several other kiosks together, so they were clustered, assembled in a manner that proclaimed they were a part of a larger threshold, a group of crafters; shelving, décor (which he would clearly need assistance in; since his aesthetic seemed to mark towards weaponry), and some other way to entice inhabitants to visit.
While he waited for others to join, the General’s contorted incantations were already molding more and more timber, and he’d carried over buckets of paint. Anything else required he could create; preparation already embedded in his machinations and calculations, his existence.
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PQ for the Artisan’s Guild stall! Any Artisan’s members have first dibs, but I’d like to move this along in a next couple of days!
1.
2.
A two-fold mission then: he strode over to their selected area, eyes drifting over the repaired construction, checking over the alterations and timber (just in case; though he knew Amalia and her crew had done meticulous work), before stepping back and drawing up another list for materials, designs, and anything else they’d likely require. They’d need signs, a multitude of them, and he’d already started to drag several other kiosks together, so they were clustered, assembled in a manner that proclaimed they were a part of a larger threshold, a group of crafters; shelving, décor (which he would clearly need assistance in; since his aesthetic seemed to mark towards weaponry), and some other way to entice inhabitants to visit.
While he waited for others to join, the General’s contorted incantations were already molding more and more timber, and he’d carried over buckets of paint. Anything else required he could create; preparation already embedded in his machinations and calculations, his existence.
--
PQ for the Artisan’s Guild stall! Any Artisan’s members have first dibs, but I’d like to move this along in a next couple of days!
1.
2.
They're wrong
