DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Despite the jubilation and excitement rendered towards the catapults, only Deimos seemed to hold mastery over them. Content, experienced, and familiar with his creations, the woodwork gleaned and prospered, back to a well-oiled, functioning machine. He rendered a few test pulls of levers, surveying, contemplating, studying, before rounding over to see how the others were doing.
Which, wasn’t great.
Sah, overeager, and Aino, overbearing, combined together to make a mess of parts and assemblies uncoordinated and no longer contributing to their function. The Sword frowned only slightly, moving over to assist with whatever was happening – and before someone ended up smacked in the face for their efforts. “We can move this here,” he indicated to Sah, motioning a lever, then standing back to see if the Abandoned could work out the schisms. “And this part,” he indicated toAino, pointing directly, “Goes here.” Thereafter, they could strive and try again.
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Bad rolls. :/ Try again!
Which, wasn’t great.
Sah, overeager, and Aino, overbearing, combined together to make a mess of parts and assemblies uncoordinated and no longer contributing to their function. The Sword frowned only slightly, moving over to assist with whatever was happening – and before someone ended up smacked in the face for their efforts. “We can move this here,” he indicated to Sah, motioning a lever, then standing back to see if the Abandoned could work out the schisms. “And this part,” he indicated to
--
Bad rolls. :/ Try again!
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
