death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
With injuries healed, and time taken to whittle away the measures, the reflections, of how the landshark hunt had gone, Deimos sent out notes to two members of the party. Thereafter, he settled down into the chair behind his desk, and drew up a long piece of parchment.
What had he done wrong? Given them too much responsibility? Held high, lofty expectations? Presumed they could handle disastrous wakes and the strange, bewitching way chaos could unravel? Within the blink of an eye, things had gone downhill, but there had been moments beforehand that could have ensured a lack of lacerations, panic, or rash, unhinged thinking. As both General and guildmaster, the Sword had taken it upon himself to ensure protection; amidst instruction and placing himself on the frontlines.
But he couldn’t make decisions for others, and that was where the crux of the issue unfurled. The real trepidation, worry, and concern, could and would span out further. How many people had he lost, in between two lifetimes? How many could he save, when it came to warfare? How many would he have claimed to have taught, that simply learned nothing at all?
Jotting down a few more notes, his eyes went to those entering – namely, Sah and Talyson. Expression reticent and unyielding, his jaw jutted towards the two chairs he’d left seated in front of his table, imploring them to sit without a single word, but a narrowed portion to his piercing gaze.
Only thereafter, once they’d settled, did the rumble of his tones exude over the parlor. "Explain your actions at the hunt, and why you chose to endanger the lives of yourselves and guild mates."
What had he done wrong? Given them too much responsibility? Held high, lofty expectations? Presumed they could handle disastrous wakes and the strange, bewitching way chaos could unravel? Within the blink of an eye, things had gone downhill, but there had been moments beforehand that could have ensured a lack of lacerations, panic, or rash, unhinged thinking. As both General and guildmaster, the Sword had taken it upon himself to ensure protection; amidst instruction and placing himself on the frontlines.
But he couldn’t make decisions for others, and that was where the crux of the issue unfurled. The real trepidation, worry, and concern, could and would span out further. How many people had he lost, in between two lifetimes? How many could he save, when it came to warfare? How many would he have claimed to have taught, that simply learned nothing at all?
Jotting down a few more notes, his eyes went to those entering – namely, Sah and Talyson. Expression reticent and unyielding, his jaw jutted towards the two chairs he’d left seated in front of his table, imploring them to sit without a single word, but a narrowed portion to his piercing gaze.
Only thereafter, once they’d settled, did the rumble of his tones exude over the parlor. "Explain your actions at the hunt, and why you chose to endanger the lives of yourselves and guild mates."
DEIMOS
