Mini Event counter balance this commotion
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#1
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
The dread and apprehension restarted the moment he posted the invitation to the notice board, and failed to leave as he kept himself busy with tasks around his house, and then eventually, along the Temple itself, rearranging portions of furniture to invite a precursor to dialogue. The consternation was twofold: because the chilling depths of the mountains, where he’d led and prevailed for years (machine and weapon, nonchalant and reticent, a blade on a throne), hadn’t been without its ridiculous, hostile, vitriolic antics (those ranked, those unranked, those with raised hackles, those who were indifferent, those who didn’t bother to show at all), and a need for the monarch to continually compose a world that should’ve had an ability to keep it together. The other was his inability to truly provide a discourse without some layer of awkwardness, or silence; far more comfortable in the corners and pockets of these chambers, eyes swarming to his favored spots. Not today though.

For something needed to happen: they’d already had groups taken, distorted, and reassembled amidst the Greatwood, beckoned by curiosity and snagged by temptation, then a pit, a monster, sacrifices without bloodshed or true upheaval. What else had occurred in those woods? In those clearings? In the elemental, ethereal containments? Some of them had witnessed a Naiad slipping from their litter. Some had wandered down the banks of the Stonesong. Some had entreated themselves to trade. Some wanted to embark upon camaraderie with the enigmatic Fae. It was a time to bring all the stories, all the legends, all the myths and knowledge together – and the fact that it was him doing it was not without its own sense of irony.

The cold-blooded Reaper, the beast who preferred isolation and detachment, whose voice was always lost between his head and his schemes, who thrived on rebellion and sedition – spreading his talons and claws into the vicinity.

But he’d promised that he’d try; and at the very least, he wouldn’t go back on his vows.

Eventually, others began to creep in. He’d supplied some amount of food and beverages on the nearby table (but no liquor; he didn’t need anyone in their cups in case situations escalated), hoping to entice others to join in, maneuvering chairs around so they encompassed a larger circle, not yearning to sit at the helm. He wasn’t a leader here. He wasn’t anything, really; massive, broad, but a figure not cut from their cloth - Outlander, a hiss, a drawl. But this wasn’t a time for them to growl and draw daggers; the world needed sagacity, especially in these uncertain, tremulous times. The warrior swallowed down the bits of anxiety creeping along his tongue, cleared his throat, and then began. “Welcome. I am Deimos. I was hoping we might gather here today to discuss the latest developments regarding the Greatwood and its inhabitants. There has been an enormous amount of actions and events surrounding the forest.” He could feel his tongue tie itself in knots, waiting for the disapproval, for a clamor of hostility and acrimony, features struggling to remain nonchalant. His stare registered the shadows, the darkness again, and so desperately wanted to be there – a longing he couldn’t have. His stare pinpointed back to the people drawing within, inhaling, exhaling, before continuing. “We were also intending to come up with means, measures, or strategies to interact positively with the Fae.” Since irritating, exasperating, or annoying them had not been tremendously effective. After this, not believing he should start the process (because all he’d done was bludgeon his way through the forest, get lost with their assembled crowd, and then get led by a wild Fae), his gaze swam over those already there. “Would anyone like to begin?”


{A information/knowledge thread for anyone who wants to know what\'s been going on with the Greatwood, Fae, etc. Please bring in your characters who\'ve experienced something, including kidnappings, trades, so that we can come together and figure out where to go from here. <3}
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
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#2
everytime you kiss me
Though the alchemist could not read the notice that the reaper had put up, Isla still could. Interesting..happenings had occurred with his site as of late, but not enough to let him read the words written.

Arriving with the soft sound of hooves against the ground, Remi decided to stand off to the side so that he could keep his fingers softly intertwined into Isla's mane. The unicorn projected the images of people arriving, of Deimos at the helm of the meeting.

As the reaper opened up the floor for comments, Remi cleared his throat slightly, though his eye-line remained fixed somewhere near where the reaper stood. At another time Remi might have swept his eyes across the audience, but now such a gesture would be hollow.

"Recently Ianto, Phoebe, myself, and Amalia went to the Sidhe Village. We were...protected you might say, by Arduinna who had sanctioned the trip. Even so, the fae who arrived did not seem particularly wanting of what we had to offer. Their warchief Delah expressed similar sentiments. That they have traded with the outside world for centuries and need nothing from us. She mentioned a sickness among the trees, and said very clearly that we are not welcome."

Wishing that he could find Ianto's gaze in the crowd, Remi merely swallowed, his fingers tightening in Isla's mane. "If the woods are theirs, what right do we have to try and impress ourselves upon them? If what we want is to interact positively with them, then perhaps we should simply do as they ask and leave their village alone."

Clenching his free hand slightly, Remi ran his fingers across his eyes momentarily as he took a breath. "As for Arduinna...Sam mentioned that some have encountered her. I have as well, and have heard many stories of how she acts. She is not to be trusted." Remi said, emotion colouring his words as his blind gaze seemed to underscore the importance of what he was trying to communicate.
it's like sunshine and whiskey

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Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
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#3
Jigano had asked Deimos to take the helm, and he had not been disappointed when he passed the Notice Board on the way to the Rathskeller, catching sight of the new piece of paper pinned to the board. He mentally marked the time on his internal calendar, and when the appointed moment came he made sure to arrive a little early to help the big man set things up. There was little enough to be said; most of it had been covered when they were in the Village together, and though some time had passed since then - new friends had been met, new adventures undertaken, songs had been sung and a Party had been attended - the pressure of everything had only pressed down harder, every day passing bringing the chance for new disaster.

He found a chair next to Deimos, his support obvious, as was his silence as he sat back and let the other man take the lead. He was there to help, not to overwhelm, and he did what he could to make himself a part of the meeting without stepping on the big man's toes. There were words pressing against his lips, overflowing from his tongue, worry and knowledge intertwined in the flickering lightning of his thoughts. Remi's words were no surprise to him, not after what the lovely dyer had told him about the trading mission that had gone awry, though he had not expected Amalia's name to be among those who had bargained. He was glad that at least one Natural had been involved this time, and he sighed a short-lived breath of relief.

Leaving the village alone made sense, but that wasn't what Delah wanted. Or at least, it wasn't all Delah wanted. From what he'd heard of the warchief, she didn't want them anywhere near the Greatwood - not the Stonesong, the Sea of Branches, the Wildwood, none of it. And that would be a harder line to negotiate, especially when they couldn't communicate without contact.

And then there was Arduinna...

The bard bit his tongue, silent for once, blue eyes dark and shadowed as he sat and let others speak first.
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
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#4
PHOEBE
Phoebe had seen the notice, and at once new she would attend. Pim came along begrudgingly, as it cut into his prime nappy time - but Phoebe carried him so he supposed he could still snooze while the humans did their humaning. The midwife was one of the first to arrive, prompt as always, with the baby dragon snuggled in her arms like the baby he was.

The large, rather intimidating man who had apparently called the meeting introduced himself and its purpose, asking for those with information to step forward. She worried her lip as hush fell over the crowd, waiting for a brave soul to step forward. First, Remi stepped forward, and she smiled, agreeing with all he said (though she didn't really understand his issue with Arduinna who she only had heard the name of, but trusted his judgement). Pim's head lolled forward, eyeing her grumpily as she continued to remain silent, before he wiggled his way free, landing lightly in the dirt with his wings splayed. Then the little dragon grabbed onto her skirts with his fangs, tugging roughly to force her forward. With a little 'Eep!' of alarm and surprise she stumbled forward, finding herself apart from the group, and in front of Deimos. "U-uhm..." she stuttered, glaring at her clearly self-satisfied dragon.

Well, she was in too far to go back now.

Phoebe cleared her throat and turned so as to address everyone. "I have met a few Fae one on one, and they've been very personable. But as Remi said, on a visit to Sidhe village to trade, their leader Delah was incredibly hostile. She views us as invaders which...in a way we are, encroaching on their forest. But they are also concerned - the forest has begun to show signs of sickness and death since the barrier fell, and they hold us to blame. I...I offered to them, but I will offer again here...I am friends with the god Frey, who helps bring new life after Deepfrost. I could go speak with them to see if they understand what is happening to the Greatwood, and what might be done to fix it. Perhaps that would spark goodwill between our people?" she said, projecting her soft voice as best she could so they could all hear. Hopefully her idea wouldn't be taken as overstepping her bounds or stupid.

Pim nuzzled his face against her leg, feeling very proud of his human's bravery.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Virion Wolfsbane
Head hunter

Age: 31 | Height: 6ft | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship:
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#5

VIRION
i find the pretty things & i put them through hell
Virion had seen the notice of the meeting and decided to attend. The man was wearing a black wolf fur cloak and boots, even in the heat he seemed comfortable. His black hair was loose and framing his pale face. He had slunk in when it had just started, keeping himself out of the way. The only person he recognized was Jigano. He stood in a corner, waiting, watching.

No one seemed to notice him. If they did, they made no comment on it and he liked it that way. They all seemed to be new to Caedo. Outlanders, perhaps. At least Jigano was. Maybe the others were too.

The group seemed so focused on their discussion they probably had not noticed him until the wolf stepped up and spoke. "Most Naturals don't trust Outlanders." He walked closer to the group, giving Jigano a quick nod. "There're also some races who don't like other races."
Coding base by Sky!
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 14 - Strg: 58 - Dext: 70 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
SUGAR - Mythical - Dragon (Ice Breath)
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#6
ronin
A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets
The last time Ronin had come to a meeting like this, he had been the one standing where Deimos stood now. He had been petitioning the people to take on the Spire Demon with him, unknowingly asking them to participate in the battle that had led to his death.

And yet here he was now, happy as a bystander, content in not having encountered these Fae up until this point. Indeed, Ronin had barely been into the Wildwood, too busy getting accustomed to life after death (literally), his focus on his daughter, his guild, his friends.

The mention of Arduinna had his jaw tightening ever so slightly, and Ronin stepped up beside Remi, giving the alchemist a gentle touch to his shoulder to indicate his presence. He didn't speak up for now, his ears sharp to drink in any and all information to be shared.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#7
Amalia
I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map
I knew that somehow I could find my way back
As a rule, Amalia makes an effort to avoid such meetings, finding herself horribly uncomfortable in crowds. What could she possibly have to contribute, she who has done so little, who knows so few? Growing up a ghost of other's adventures, the quiet baker was ever content to observe, to let her mother and grandmother lead, never believing they would ever be gone, that a void would be left with no Chandrakant to fill.

And when the void developed she shied away, too small and mild to fill the space, too anxious to take on the shoes of her kin, act as pillar to a crumbling world.

It's changed, recently. Little by little, in insidious ways, Amalia has found herself growing involved, stepping from shadow to try to adopt the role that her matriarchs left behind. Some of it is due to necessity, a gaping and ever present absence of other old families, Naturals who used to lead in this place. Where are they? Wordsworth, Palmer, Valair, Theskyra... the absent pile up like raindrops, the want of them a flood in which the girl might drown.

Some of it is due to a thing she does not yet know to identify, but which others might call growth.

Amalia slips in among the assembled just as Deimos begins to speak, Jyoti flying close behind. He is across from her, on the other side of the circle, and her heart swells with a strange, smug possessiveness as he announces the purpose of the day. She had been surprised to hear he had called this meeting, not anticipating such from him: her monolith of so few words, never seeing in himself what was so clear to her. Smiling, Amalia watches his face, wondering if he sees her, feels her support. I am here for you, her expression whispers. You are wonderful. I am proud.

Then he sits, and others speak: Remi, Phoebe, a stranger of few words. They tell the stories of what they have seen, and Amalia knows she ought to add, to throw in the experiences she has endured. Rising uncertainly during a lull, the quiet baker clears her throat, her alto voice soft in the busy hall. "I spent a... a few days in the Sidhe Village," she says, "And I went back with the traders. And I'll be going again, soon, to ask Delah more about the blight in the woods. Ianto, who spent the last seasons among them, has set up his wagon at the edge of the Greatwood as something of a neutral zone for Fae and..." Naturals will not work, and she stumbles a second, not exactly sure what they are. "...and... Grounders, I guess? to trade."

Her heart is thundering in her ears; she is sweating, she knows, and probably red, and must make a laughable scene. But she has more to say, to add, as much as she would like nothing more than to melt and vanish into the floor. This is fact, not opinion, not the thought she has entertained. And she has entertained a thought, an idea kicked within her mind as she thinks of all that has been said. Jyoti swims a circle around her, spreading starlight in attempt to calm the fried nerves of the girl. "So far, we've really just pressed ourselves on them. So what if we... if we sent an invitation, for some of them to come and see us here? Show them who we are, and see what they would be willing to teach us, without just invading their woods?" Swallowing, Amalia lets her dark eyes drift to Deimos and Jigano, looking for some sign of support between them, reassurance that she has not made herself a fool.
Then I heard your heart beating,
you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#8
Roana was quiet, observing from the crowd. She knew most of these people hated her. She knew many probably didn't even want her to make an appearance at such group events, and merely fade into a distant, unpleasant memory. But that wouldn't be her. She wouldn't be doing anything. And she needed to. There were many bridges that needed to be rebuilt, and threats that need to be subdued.

"She speaks sense." Roana piped up, stepping forward after Amalia spoke. She gave her a cursory glance, knowing the woman had no good feelings for her. "If I may?" she said, glancing around as she asked permission to speak in the crowd that was few of friends. "I was the first out of the barrier, sent through a portal in the basement of the Spire. I would've been Delah's captive had Ianto not sweet talked her out of it. She is formidable and unyielding, and they've good reasons not to trust people from this land. Inviting them here, even just to the border, would be good. And...if you've had such luck with her, I would recommend you be the ambassador of this place to the Fae." Roana said, looking at Amalia.

"But if it really is this place hurting the wood...perhaps we can suggest some of our farmers examine the blighted plants? It might be something they will recognize and have a remedy for." she said, before falling silent.
Roana
You don't own me
Don't try to change me in any way
You don't own me
Don't tie me down cause I'd never stay
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#9
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
To his immense relief, there were other voices: nothing harsh, nothing reckless, nothing rash, but sentiments expressed through experiences and lines drawn in the sand. He breathed easier, he slid into his chair, and he listened, absorbing, intent on every single sight, sound, and message, grateful, so damned grateful they’d all bothered to come at all. He said so with the bridge of his smile, the small, indentations in his cheeks, the promise of something occurring beyond vitriol and contempt.

Remi’s information was intriguing: Arduinna again, displaying her ability to protect and guard (but why was the underlying notion too – what did she stand to gain from continuing to allow them access, to thwart Delah’s position time and time again?). The sickness amidst the trees was something he hadn’t heard either; too preoccupied with his own mission and merciless divide to notice a blight. “So we could leave them alone.” He nodded, corresponding another tale to add to the distinction of Arduinna (not to be trusted hung in the air, bristled against his senses). “When we went to rescue those who were captured, Arduinna led us to the Village, with a debt to be owed later.” He left that in the ether too, to billow or bluster; if it was another impending doom, damnation, or something else altogether.

Jigano’s assistance and support was a welcome thing: he nodded towards the bard, but tilted his head at the silence. Jigano was rarely hushed. There was always something on his mind. Maybe he was waiting, for a chance to bite, for a chance to emulate, for a chance to sink into whatever subject came to the corresponding discussions.

Phoebe and her dragon’s entrance was duly noted with a reticent stare, an arched brow, but nothing else untoward, head tilted as he listened to her address. Though he had a natural distrust towards gods and deities, if others had the capability to communicate with them…he couldn’t see the harm. If the celestial beings could provide an another angle, or any guidance at all, they could put it to use. “If you wish, I see no harm in asking your deity.” His eyes shifted across the surroundings, amongst all the others; to see if they had taken issue with the notion; he wouldn’t know, comprehend, or understand any other dilemmas situated with the heavenly forms.

Another entered and proffered knowledge – not something they were ignorant of, but the beast nodded at the other, grateful the stranger offered some form of sagacity. The Outlanders, the Naturals, all of them were Outsiders in comparison to the Fae. Ronin arrived too, and Deimos was quick to give him a nod of recognition, silent acknowledgments and thank yous, support in silence.

Then the sun was there, a shock of brilliance simmering along his skin, and he gave the swiftest wink towards her, before listening, listening, listening, about the traders, about how she was brave enough, undaunted enough, audacious enough to go whistling straight back to Delah. Perhaps she was their best chance, agreed upon by Roana moments later. But would it be sending her straight back into danger – or was Delah more tolerant of her, allowing her freedom and liberation? He mused for a moment, then rounded his gaze upon them all again. “So we could extend invitations to meet us, and offer assistance in repairing the blight? And keep trading on neutral ground?” Would they need to go further? Was it too far of a stretch? Were they in agreement – or as Remi had stated, should they leave well enough alone, having already done enough damage?

{No post order - continue discussing!}
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
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#10
everytime you kiss me
The trouble was, for those who didn't speak up, the alchemist had no idea that they were there (Jigano). There were also some voices he didn't recognize at all (Virion). However when the man spoke, Remi frowned slightly. His words were...an exaggeration. And wrong, from all that Remi had seen and experienced so far. But the meeting was not about the differing races or outlanders vs. natural, but about the Greatwood and the Fae, and so he said nothing. Ronin 's was an immediately recognized presence, and Remi smiled slightly, turning his chin towards his friend in acknowledgement of his arrival.

As Amalia spoke, Remi found himself nodding in agreement. Forcing ourselves onto them, seemed to be exactly what was done. Remi had warned Sam about Arduinna, and indeed the entirety of the Hollowed Grounds with his notice, and yet more still went into the woods. More still felt they had the right.

"From what I have heard...it is not trading that they are opposed to. I think it is simply our presence in the woods, or more specifically their village. They are protective of it, and I am not sure I see that as a problem. It is us who seem to want something from them, as Amalia has said...sure we can try to find ways of making ourselves seem worthy of their trust, but we could also just leave them to their own." Gently Remi shrugged, his blind-face turning towards Roana. "Any way we can help would likely be appreciated if we go about it the right way. So far they seem...unhappy when we make ourselves out to be the experts on anything related to them or their home."
it's like sunshine and whiskey

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
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#11
He waited for a silence to descend on the little gathering, letting others have their say before he drew breath to speak, weighing each word carefully. ”The situation is not black and white,” he began. ”The Fae are not one entity, ruled by Delah’s singular desires, any more than all humans hold the same opinions. Delah does not want us in the Woods, but that does not mean others of the Fae do not. I have made either friends or… at least friendly contact with several of the Fae,” he allowed, not wanting to overstate the power of a few interactions, but respecting the trust that Eliza and Jiao had shown him… and Weaver, as well. ”Who did not seem to mind my presence there, though I agree that we should not attempt to approach he village uninvited.” He started to nod at Remi, then realized the alchemist couldn’t see him and shot Ronin an apologetic look instead, hoping the Guildmaster could convey some of his acknowledgment of the young man’s point.

”And I, too, think Amalia ’s suggestion of inviting them here is a good one,” he nodded to his heartsister with an encouraging smile. ”As we all seem to agree. As for the disease…” He hesitated, then tilted his head gravely to Phoebe . ”Asking Frey would be wise, and appreciated,” he said to her, seconding Deimos ‘s words with a smile for the big man before turning to meet the eyes of those gathered. It was the first time he had seen Roana since she had leapt through the portal like a would-be martyr – or perhaps a coward, seeking to escape the battle and leaving the rest of them to die beneath the Spire? He hadn’t realized she’d known it was a portal, as he and Amalia did, but from how she spoke she apparently had, and it made her actions even more frustrating. Still, this wasn’t the time for personal grievances, and he simply shook his head at her suggestion. ”The disease is not natural,” he said flatly. ”Arduinna showed me a patch of forest that had been drained of life, the plants and soil leeched and dead, withered and with all vitality gone. She cannot heal it with her own considerable powers, and the blight continues to spread. It began soon after the barrier fell, and has been getting worse since.” He paused, looking around grimly. ”The Fae are searching their own archives for a cure, or any mention of it happening before in their history. I was tasked with doing the same in the human archives. But since it seems to be both supernatural and linked to the fall of the barrier, I think it is worth asking: is it related to the Voice? Or was something else trapped in this barrier besides her for all those years, that we unleashed without realizing it?”
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#12
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
He listened again, but most of the voices seemed faded, spent, inquiries and questions still roaming that they couldn’t signify answers with until later, when they’d tried, when they’d committed, when they’d granted effort into the coalition. Help, guidance, and assistance, but not without permission seemed the most likely of current torrents, yearning and longing for sagacity and advice from deities another. Perhaps it was better that they ended it here, civil and with fresh ideas polished across the surface. “Then we shall try.” He nodded to everyone – a silent acknowledgment, a thank you for coming in his hushed platitudes, relieved that there’d been a smoothness to it, even if the disparity between parties. At the very least, it hadn’t fallen apart, no one had fled the confines, no one had spit vitriol, acrimony, and venomous irreverence back into the fold: calm, composed. It was bizarre for his standards, when he’d been amidst too many blistering folds – but he was glad, satisfied, content for what it had been. “Perhaps we should meet again soon, when we have more information and results.” Then he allowed them to dissipate and depart as they pleased, food taken, staying behind to take care of anything else leftover or out.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace


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