And hung from the rafters
The stratagem swings
Before Morgan headed back to Halo, she had agreed to spar with Deimos; she intended to take him up on the offer: since her guards had been all but wiped out, she had been training by herself, which while valuable, lacked the tactile nature of training with a partner. Another human added a layer of unpredictability, reality that would be present in any true fight.
Deimos was not just another human, too: as a General and a lifelong soldier, Morgan expected him to give his all, and for that all to be a good contender against her own skills.
She had met him at the barracks in the early morning and they had walked to a location Deimos told her would be absent of any others and large with plenty of cover; ruins of a civilisation now gone; she was interested to see the remains of the ancient society of the Grounds. Morgan wondered if people had walked there who somehow, distantly, were related to her own family tree, from a time before portals and barriers.
There was a more important matter at hand though, of course. Morgan turned to Deimos as they entered a large sun-dappled courtyard, a few fallen pillars and half-sunk walls scattered across the cobbles. "Do we have rules? Weapons, magic, shifts...?" The last one was a double question, Morgan unsure if Deimos had the ability. "I am fine with everything being allowed, but we are on your turf. You can set boundaries. I assume we fight until surrender, and not death."
This was a joke, though you'd only know from the smallest of smiles at the edge of her lips.
Deimos was not just another human, too: as a General and a lifelong soldier, Morgan expected him to give his all, and for that all to be a good contender against her own skills.
She had met him at the barracks in the early morning and they had walked to a location Deimos told her would be absent of any others and large with plenty of cover; ruins of a civilisation now gone; she was interested to see the remains of the ancient society of the Grounds. Morgan wondered if people had walked there who somehow, distantly, were related to her own family tree, from a time before portals and barriers.
There was a more important matter at hand though, of course. Morgan turned to Deimos as they entered a large sun-dappled courtyard, a few fallen pillars and half-sunk walls scattered across the cobbles. "Do we have rules? Weapons, magic, shifts...?" The last one was a double question, Morgan unsure if Deimos had the ability. "I am fine with everything being allowed, but we are on your turf. You can set boundaries. I assume we fight until surrender, and not death."
This was a joke, though you'd only know from the smallest of smiles at the edge of her lips.
Born from the ashes
Of counterfeit kings
MORGAN
Base Code by Sky!
