[PQ] with all its might

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame It didn’t seem to take them long at all, an assembly of strangers and friends alike; though Deimos quirked a brow at Talyson’s recent ventures on the climbing wall with the barest hint of a smirk. At least the youth listened to advice. He stepped forward at the stranger though, unrecognizable from all the other times venturing in and amongst the crowds of Halovians. “Thank you for coming to help,” for all of them anyway – even if some of the soldiers didn’t have a choice. To Amun under veil and pretenses, he offered his hand, presuming he was either a newcomer or wanderer. “I am Deimos. Who are you?” And to Sah, he gave another light smile. Things, for a steady amount of moments, could feel relatively normal. “Thank you.” He presumed the Abandoned was staying on as advisor, and then the rest could filter through. And then the outline of tasks, grabbing hold of his paper and going over the list. “The barracks stands firm and unyielding, but needs some maintenance. Targets need to be repaired,” and he pointed to the cluster of broken, battered, beaten (clearly some arms were missing off of many), and threadbare components off in the corner. Paint, needles, fabric, and anything else that might’ve been necessary were placed alongside. “And the armory needs to be organized.” Badly. He jutted his jaw towards the direction of the room – which they’d find everything under the sun horribly misplaced, armor on the floor, any bits and pieces of metal tossed by the wayside. Opening the door earlier had given him the chills, and he’d swiftly shut it for fear of going into a contemptuous rage. “I will be remaking weapons. Please let me know if we need anything.” Gods knew some of the recruits had probably wandered out and taken half the arsenal with them. -- Tasks: - One for repairing targets (you’ll have NPC soldiers with you to “help”) - Two for organizing the armory (it’s a mess fam) master of nothing place; of recoil and grace