DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Papers were missing.
Ordinarily, this might not have been an issue, but there were scores taken from journals, ripped clean from the guild books, without rhyme or reason. The Sword could think of several in between rifling through the assortment of diligent notations all of them had kept – but wasn’t finding any pattern.
Happenstance? Purely coincidental? Something far more nefarious?
His eyes narrowed as he landed upon another segment and stock along the library walls, and began to take the tomes down from there as well, lining them up to be glanced over several more times before any level of aggravation took over.
Ordinarily, this might not have been an issue, but there were scores taken from journals, ripped clean from the guild books, without rhyme or reason. The Sword could think of several in between rifling through the assortment of diligent notations all of them had kept – but wasn’t finding any pattern.
Happenstance? Purely coincidental? Something far more nefarious?
His eyes narrowed as he landed upon another segment and stock along the library walls, and began to take the tomes down from there as well, lining them up to be glanced over several more times before any level of aggravation took over.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
