DEIMOS
They believe nothing can reach us
And pull us out of the boundless gloom
And pull us out of the boundless gloom
He wasn’t surprised by who appeared – and while they weren’t Artisan Guild members (few in number anyway), they were welcomed regardless. A brief smile maneuvered its way along his mouth, before the arch of a brow, a nod towards Jigano’s insinuations, Loreseekers and crafters wielding and melding for continued Fiat Lux expansion. He extended a snort along Loren’s greeting, but still bowed his skull in thanks to them; the spiral of their gratitudes continuing its circle and cycle, a constant barrage of forces and vitriol, willing to lend their assistance into whatever conflagrations, skills, tactics, and ideas the world seemed to muster.
The Sword’s eyes went back to the kiosks, considering what they’d need, the available arrays into the fold. “If either of you are artistically inclined,” here his glance went towards the sign boards, timber already rendered and cut for this purpose, “We need a number of signs.” To display, to account for all the items that would be available and showcased – the paint gathered, the brushes nearby. “I can hang them.” A flight of feathers along the top of the kiosks, hammer and nails already applied where he wanted them to go. “And yes, we should anchor the stalls,” another nod at Jigano’s suggestion; uncertain how truly weighted they were, especially with impending shelving, décor, and materials to be assembled and placed along their thresholds. Any tools, or items they required would likely be found by the overprepared Sword (some taken from the previous event; both he and the Shield disposed to arranging for any and all circumstances), or if something was needed, could simply ask and the artifact could be created, contorted, into the ether.
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Need someone who would like to paint signs and another to help anchor the stalls!
The Sword’s eyes went back to the kiosks, considering what they’d need, the available arrays into the fold. “If either of you are artistically inclined,” here his glance went towards the sign boards, timber already rendered and cut for this purpose, “We need a number of signs.” To display, to account for all the items that would be available and showcased – the paint gathered, the brushes nearby. “I can hang them.” A flight of feathers along the top of the kiosks, hammer and nails already applied where he wanted them to go. “And yes, we should anchor the stalls,” another nod at Jigano’s suggestion; uncertain how truly weighted they were, especially with impending shelving, décor, and materials to be assembled and placed along their thresholds. Any tools, or items they required would likely be found by the overprepared Sword (some taken from the previous event; both he and the Shield disposed to arranging for any and all circumstances), or if something was needed, could simply ask and the artifact could be created, contorted, into the ether.
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Need someone who would like to paint signs and another to help anchor the stalls!
They're wrong
