NERON
the hailstorm
Neron, believe it or not, has proven himself quite the builder in the past. The Hailstorm has helped to construct the city gates without too much trouble, so an altar like this shouldn't pose much of a problem, right? At least there's no risk of dropping heavy stones on people's heads with something like this. So he arrives promptly to where Morgan has set out all the materials, his hands buried in the pockets of his black coat, his fair hair a shock of colour against his otherwise muted figure.
"I heard you required muscle," he drawls to Morgan, a smile creeping across his lips. He tips her a wink meant for Warden's eyes only; they both know that the Ascended is no one's definition of brawny, but he's here nonetheless. Because she asked him.
"I heard you required muscle," he drawls to Morgan, a smile creeping across his lips. He tips her a wink meant for Warden's eyes only; they both know that the Ascended is no one's definition of brawny, but he's here nonetheless. Because she asked him.
