DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Listening while incantations flickered and bent to his decree, he withheld the snort threatening to volley through his nose and chest, tilting his skull ever so slightly to maintain a better sight and angle. Crouching lower and lower, his responses were measured in the countenance and bearing of an individual who’d spent multiple lifetimes surveying, brandishing, utilizing, and creating weapons. “There is more than ice and fire.” Earth. Air. Even lightning blazing through the schism of a blade, much like the one he’d made for Sah. “And what are you thinking for range?” Magic could alter the severity, but also the extension, pondering over the whip he’d enhanced for Maeve.
His eyes narrowed briefly at the inquiry, ceasing an implication before it had an opportunity to develop. “Only those that help will be testing them.” Purposefully not telling him where the trigger or lever was – implying with a nod of his head towards the rest of the soldiers working on piecing things together.
His eyes narrowed briefly at the inquiry, ceasing an implication before it had an opportunity to develop. “Only those that help will be testing them.” Purposefully not telling him where the trigger or lever was – implying with a nod of his head towards the rest of the soldiers working on piecing things together.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
