DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Perhaps it was for the best. The Wraith likely wouldn’t enjoy what Zuriel had to say anyway.
Keeping the unicorn’s thoughts to himself, with the acceptance mustered, Deimos set to work. Placing the paper down, glancing back over the inscriptions, notes, labels, and gradients, he spread his hands apart. Concentration honed, the magic stirred between his palms, golden and glowing, fixtures to represent the assemblage taking place. The incantations unfurled with little issue, content and obliging, springing forth amongst and amidst the woodwork beginning to form, the spaces of triggering mechanisms and potent volleys, metal bands and timber-lined orchestrations. There was no need for adornments or designs to signify ownership; he presumed this model would be passed down from fighter to fighter, whoever intended to engage with their monstrous enemies.
And then, when it was solid and tangible, in his grasp, he instilled the fire, the flames, embedding the curl of smoke and fumes, of conflagrations and upheaval, the touch of seditious efforts. When it was finished, all the midst of silence and hushed platitudes, he lifted his gaze from the crossbow, and to the crystal suddenly placed on the table. An arch to his brow was the only hint to his curiosity, or inquiry towards its appearance – extending the weapon towards her to take.
--
Deimos has made:
Infernbow: A wooden crossbow with the ability to set any arrows placed within to ignite on the pull of its trigger.
Keeping the unicorn’s thoughts to himself, with the acceptance mustered, Deimos set to work. Placing the paper down, glancing back over the inscriptions, notes, labels, and gradients, he spread his hands apart. Concentration honed, the magic stirred between his palms, golden and glowing, fixtures to represent the assemblage taking place. The incantations unfurled with little issue, content and obliging, springing forth amongst and amidst the woodwork beginning to form, the spaces of triggering mechanisms and potent volleys, metal bands and timber-lined orchestrations. There was no need for adornments or designs to signify ownership; he presumed this model would be passed down from fighter to fighter, whoever intended to engage with their monstrous enemies.
And then, when it was solid and tangible, in his grasp, he instilled the fire, the flames, embedding the curl of smoke and fumes, of conflagrations and upheaval, the touch of seditious efforts. When it was finished, all the midst of silence and hushed platitudes, he lifted his gaze from the crossbow, and to the crystal suddenly placed on the table. An arch to his brow was the only hint to his curiosity, or inquiry towards its appearance – extending the weapon towards her to take.
--
Deimos has made:
Infernbow: A wooden crossbow with the ability to set any arrows placed within to ignite on the pull of its trigger.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
