no plan survives
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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Posts: 5,165 | Total: 9,913
MP: 3415
#1
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Loren had obviously heard the call. However, he’d also obviously not been dumb enough to venture outside. Indeed, considering all the warnings about the mental and physical tricks the monsters were able to play—how they could disguise themselves, how they get inside people’s heads—he’d written it off as yet another way for the monsters to lure them into opening the doors and venturing outside. On top of that, he’d been given some pretty explicit instructions and some even more vivid warnings, and he wasn’t going to take any chances, no matter who had left even if it was Wessex.

Once he was sure no one else would slip out (he’d have tried to stop them, but given his currently shaky authority he wasn’t sure if they’d listen, though surely he was in charge now that Wessex had departed) he secured the front doors of the Temple before making his way over to the shells. Taking them to a quiet corner to avoid a panic, he requested to speak to whoever was currently in charge at the Guild. Given that practically all of them seemed to be out at some moment or another, it could’ve been Deimos, or Remi, or Ronin, or even Amalia for all the Launceleyn knew.

This time, he waited patiently, far less drunk and far more willing to actually give a report. Especially now that the queen was gone, he found his newfound confidence sustaining him. If they wanted to bitch and moan about his behavior, well, they knew where he was and apparently had no qualms about coming over here to pick up bodies for the gods only knew what reason.
LOREN
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#2
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Deimos had heard the call too – the searing, molten coils in his blood, in the hollows of his blood, in the chilling aspect of his existence – but had far too many other things to watch, survey, and protect. While others had left, he maintained the Guild with Remi, the wounded, and several others, maintaining his fortification status for as long as he possibly could. The cyclical aspect of their movements and maneuvers were hard to track at any given time, and he’d spent a multitude of time pacing along the floorboards until Zuriel made herself quite clear on the aspects of her irritation.

Which left him to be the one to answer the shells – a different magical aspect, but intriguing, interesting, and helpful nonetheless. He’d seen several others utilizing its means, familiar voices threading through the other side, but had yet to use it himself. When Loren’s tone sifted its way through the lines, tethers, and enchantments, the beast tilted his head, arched a brow at the request. Was he in the one currently in charge? The General’s eyes lifted over to the confines, quiet, dim, the light of the fire crackling along the hearth. Perhaps he was.

He lifted the shell, speaking directly into it. “Loren. It is Deimos.” Thereafter, he could only speculate on what the summoner needed or required – a report? Was something going on? He had half a notion to ask about the Rathskeller or Cera, but would let it go for now.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
Change author:
Posts: 5,165 | Total: 9,913
MP: 3415
#3
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Thankfully, Deimos picked up. Surprisingly enough, considering the fact that Loren had bithced and whined and raged at pretty much everyone in the Hollowed Grounds at this point, he hadn’t managed to piss off the General. Time to see if the Launceleyn could keep it that way. Best to keep the words and conversation short, given the other man’s taciturn nature. ”Deimos. Just giving a status update. I don’t know if you heard that call, but Amun went out and Wessex followed him. Those are the only two of our people who ventured outside since Bastien and Rexanna.” At least, that the summoner knew about.

”Before that, as I’m sure you have heard by now, monsters used Cera’s body to get into the Rathskellar. We trapped them in there, and I burned it down to make sure no one was foolish enough to go in there again.” Plus, the monsters had killed the sweet-hearted professor, and Loren had wanted to avenge them. It had felt good, he wouldn't lie.

There was more, however. "Bastien compromised the password when he reentered the Temple. I was waiting for the queen to reestablish one, but now that she's gone I figure that it comes down to you." Actually, while they were on the subject of Wessex, the Launceleyn had something else he should ask. Taking a deep breath, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "While she's out, might I request a field promotion? I don't want people questioning my authority, and I don't know how long she'll be gone." Or if she'd survive, or if they'd even open the doors to her should she try to return. Their orders here were clear. If they got through LongNight, they could talk about making the summoner's promotion permanent.

That was all probably a bit wordy for Deimos' tastes, but a lot had happened and their communications had been far too irregular. At least, no one had been looping Loren in, and he'd been doing a shit job talking to the Guild. Granted, that hadn't been his job. But it sure was now. If only it was under literally any other circumstances.
LOREN
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#4
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
A status report, militia means and measures – he could fathom that, and fell into a more habitual routine, days long since passed where positions and conditions were presented for inspection, for approval, for a way to foster achievement even in the wake of disaster (were they headed there now?). So he listened, mind reeling on some of the conjectures, conjuring a charcoal and paper within his hand, settling the pad across his palm to jot everything down as it came. Amun and Wessex had left – likely at the undead luxere call, like several from their shelter. He was aware of the state of Cera’s body and the Rathskeller’s untimely demise; but based on the monsters stored within, he could comprehend why the destruction had taken place. Bars could be rebuilt. Something for the spring if they all managed to survive to see it.

Bastien compromised the password, Wessex hadn’t re-established one, and he was the one left to fit the bill? His brow arched again, but since Loren couldn’t see the striking look of bemusement settling over his features, then it didn’t really matter. “The new password can be Citadel.” Mountains. Places of aspiration, seen through portals and fog, through ethers and abyss. A realm they might be able to venture towards, when the world stopped flickering apart. As for the field promotion, he had no issue or concern with it; Loren was part of their armed forces, an authority, a figure, meant to represent safety, protection, and might. “You may be Captain.”

Then, it seemed to be his turn to follow suit. He started at the beginning, with the bizarre tale of the warrior and the children running amuck through the desolate void. “I arrested Roana and put her in a cell.” And not even that particular cell. “She somehow managed to escape and came here after saving three boys. She was injured by the monsters.” Consumed, devoured, laden with – were those the right terms? “She is dead. So is Caiside.” Ripped apart, flesh torn; and it sounded heartless, nonchalant, the way he described it – but he could only put so many things into words, when he struggled with the discourse in the first place. “Some of ours have gone out as well.” For multiple purposes – god quests and slaying souls, protecting the feeble, endangering themselves, carting bodies back and forth. “Rexanna and Sam are here. They were injured, but the unicorns have healed them as best they can.” Some portions would have to be handled by the Voice (which caused a sneer he couldn’t see).
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
Change author:
Posts: 5,165 | Total: 9,913
MP: 3415
#5
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Deimos didn’t respond to Loren’s report. At least not verbally, and given that the shell lacked a verbal component that was tantamount to no reaction at all. Thankfully, the General set a new code; the summoner created his own paper and charcoal and noted it down dutifully. The promotion garnered a smile, though he kept it out of his voice. ”Thank you, sir.” The smile slipped away immediately at the news about Roana. ”Wait, what? You captured Roana? Then she escaped and got killed? And now her boys are at the Guild? How?” The Launceleyn had seen the children with Phoebe.

Although maybe he should’ve mourned the fallen woman, she’d threatened to kill a whole race of people and he didn’t have much sympathy for her. He was mostly just shocked to hear news of her death. Still, no one deserved to die to the monsters, no matter what their sins in life. Not Cera, not Roana, not this Caiside, who the summoner did not know, but would remember.

”Have any of them succeeded in their tasks?” Yes, Loren knew all about the quests from Ludo. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask more than he did, because he was afraid to know if they had failed, and what the consequences of that might be. He was glad that Deimos hadn’t mentioned any deaths other than Roana and Caiside; no one the Launceleyn was close to or cared about had perished, which might’ve made him selfish, but so be it. Unfortunately, they still might. While he tried not to be too scared by that possibility, it was a losing battle.

He’d heard about Rexanna already. ”Sam is the uh...redhead?” The one who’d began this whole mess. Loren filed the name away for later and (assuming those at the Guild hadn’t chewed the other man out already) the summoner would have a few choice words to say. ”Take care of her, please.” If the General said they’d done what they could, the Launceleyn would take Deimos at his word. What little of it there was.
LOREN
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#6
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
The confusion surrounding Roana’s entire adventure was understandable; he was still muddled and perplexed by the spiraling notions of how she’d managed to escape, run off into LongNight’s clutches, and get herself ultimately killed. “I did – not without difficulty.” Which had been annoying, exasperating, ridiculous, and predictable. “They are not hers. She must have found them out in the dark.” And had followed her own patterns and rituals, striving to save without thinking of consequences. It was coldhearted, perhaps, to simply not dwell any further; it had occurred, she had died. He didn’t mourn her loss.

As far as succeeding in tasks – the clench in his jaw went unseen, the solid, stoic features rendered back into further reticence, not wanting to go down that particular path. “Kiada and Jigano have not returned yet. Or the others who went after the call.” Yet being the operative term – faith in the firebrand’s steadfast abilities remained, despite the arduous task before her. Everyone else had wandered off into the night, and the convictions in his chest were pulled to their limit – incapable of doing anything, remaining inside while they clambered into the streets, ready and eager to open the door for them upon their imminent returns.

“Yes,” towards Samuel the redhead; the apparent leader of the shenanigans with the monsters, conversing with them, talking with them, hoping to achieve something and merely ensuring others were maimed and harmed in the process. The notions had their merits, but the end results had been detrimental. As far as Rexanna, Loren didn’t even need to say the words. Deimos’ had long since been willing to do anything for her. “Zuriel has healed what she can, and we have tried to set her nose and wrists. The Voice will probably have to do the rest.” After, if they all made it.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
Change author:
Posts: 5,165 | Total: 9,913
MP: 3415
#7
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Letting out a sigh that might’ve verged on long-suffering, Loren rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. He should probably tell Phoebe, but the midwife had been scarce of late. ”Well. We’ll sort it out after LongNight.” If there was anything to sort out, that was; the summoner had enough on his plate, and maybe it would be a kindness to let the boys live in ignorance, at least while darkness and monsters lurked outside.

And people, apparently. ”Okay. Keep me updated, and I’ll do the same.” It seemed that all that was left was to pray. The Launceleyn noted the two others confirmed to be out. Sam could wait as well, and it seemed that Rexanna was in good hands, though Loren winced at the mention of nose and wrists. ”Alright. Thanks.” There didn’t seem to be much else to say but he stayed on the line by the shell in case Deimos had any questions. However, if the conversation was over, the Launceleyn would post the new password by the front door, just so there weren't any misunderstandings.
LOREN
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#8
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
The General could hear the lengthy sigh through the shell’s enchantments and incantations, might’ve understood the gesture had he simply not wandered from problem to problem, with little time in between to think, maroon, or harpoon his ruminations into anything other than fixing and solving. The past few days had been a constant surge of calamity after calamity, a ripe expectation throughout LongNight, but he’d allow himself the quiet, the suffering, the melancholy to permeate and infuse his senses until after, when his Machiavellian mind could ease and the acrimony could surge, when the apprehension ceased, when reality pierced and lacerated. He was stuck in the realm of constant movement and motion; after was something for later, something for the future, something he promised they’d somehow manage to crawl, stumble, or falter their way towards.

Perhaps it was more of his heartlessness, more of the detachment, more of the things he wasn’t close to – he’d allowed Wessex, Phoebe, or whoever else was involved with the children to figure things out amongst and amidst themselves. “Likewise. Thank you,” he offered back, grateful for the information, noting they’d probably have to do this again before the eternal evenings were through. “Until later. Keep safe.” As much as they could – which sounded ridiculous, really, on the scale of things that had already occurred or were due to escalate.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace


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