The presented gift
For; [Deimos]
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
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#1
SASCHA
Sascha had been working on a thank you gift for Deimos for quite a while now so when he finished it this morning he couldn't wait to deliver it right away! The longheat sun was scolding like last year as he walked into the training grounds with the gift wrapped in brown paper and hold together with a long leather band twirled around it. The gift it self was remarkably made and something Sascha thought Deimos both could appreciate and have use for. So what was the gift hiding beneath the paper? A detailed carved sword sheath in multiple colored woods merged together to one piece. At the bottom and top of it he had added brass edges that really made it pop. And after some research he had learned about some warrior symbols that he had carved into the wood. He himself was really proud over his work and the only thing he was nervous about was if it would be something that Deimos both liked and had use for.

After a while of searching through the training grounds he had spotted the general shape of Deimos and steered his steps towards him as he curiously watched what the man was up to. What was he working on for the time being?
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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#2
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Today was the bow: the long string pulled taut, arm muscles undulating under its power, prestige, and precision, savoring the entanglement of raw synergy, the push and shove of might, ferocity, in the single assimilation of movement. No thoughts. No feelings. Only orchestration of a solid, solitary breath, forcing his gaze to the target, to the bullseye, narrowing, a beating pulse of his own feral predilections hovering in the harpooning mass. Then he let go, and there was only a freeing, liberating motion of an arrow flying, whizzing, tremendous speed gained in its swift, stellar conflagrations, landing with an audible impact into the object. Another breath, mere, modest satisfaction, before notching another, a clench of his jaw, a tempestuous edge to his storm, to the predilections threatening to claw their way through intervals and insides; following the footfalls, the patterns, the distinctions of the weapon in his hands, another release, another suspension of prowess – lowering the bow when the sound of an individual’s feet stirred along the grounds.

His head twisted in the direction of the onlooker; the precise accord of his nonchalant, apathetic countenance suddenly something else altogether one he realized who it was. Sascha – whom he hadn’t seen since last LongNight – earning the slightest arches of a smile along his mouth. “Sascha,” he implored over the grounds, arching his brow, infernal curiosity at the healer’s behest. “What brings you here?” Not a soul to be tangled or tarnished by the notion of bloodshed; despite his attempts at training and trials.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
Played by: Valentine Offline
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Posts: 135
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#3
SASCHA
Sascha lit up when seeing the bow in Deimos hand and felt that long overdue of fluttering wings within his tummy by that mere sight. A bow! Ohh it felt like it had been ages since a bow graced his hands and was literally the only weapon he had ever been good with. It was such a graceful weapon if you asked Sascha, quiet but powerful ~ But as he then laid his eyes upon Deimos his smile became even wider as he waved happily at Deimos when they met up, holding the pakage tight under his opposite arm to make sure it wouldn't fall out of his grasp. "Deimos! Long time no see my friend!" It was almost like he chirped like a bird over the joy he felt right now since he indeed had missed Deimos company for way to long by now. As Deimos asked the question Sascha lit up even more, if that was even possible, and stretched out the gift towards him. "I came to give you this gift! As a thank you for the training you have given me!" He stated cheerfully.

If someone helped you it was only right to thank them in Saschas world. He hadn't mind any second of this long process and felt over the moon when it was finally made, even better then what he had invisoned even! "Sorry it took me so long but i have been sick, but i am feeling much better now." Yes first the blight and then a long recoverytime for him after the whole ordeal. It was even very recently he had gained back the weight he had lost fully. Heck, he had for a while looked like a skeleton after all.
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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#4
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Sascha was always a piece of effervescence Deimos couldn’t quite fathom, but appreciated just the same. After these past few agonizing, melancholy, anguishing days, the bright, sunshine distinction was difficult to take, but he visibly softened, less of a reserved, nonchalant gaze, easing a breath from his lungs, eyes following the bird-like movements of the other man. Thereafter, though, with the benediction, the benevolence, the proffered gift, his eyes widened, obvious bewilderment and surprising sketched over his features for a moment; gone when he remembered how to do something other than stare. “You did not need to,” he began, the same balking entity of not enough and not worthy and undeserving beginning to scald over his surface, hard lines to crack and fissure, to erode and misplace. “But thank you,” gifts a novelty, a rarity, other than from loved ones, and he pulled it back into his hands with the notes of reverences, careful, precise.

Sick, and then LongNight’s spells hadn’t done them any good – some frame of apology working its way through the Sword’s throat, but he ceased when he realized the healer might have been waiting for him to open it. Instead of ravaging and ripping into the fold, he maneuvered over the wrapping attentively, peeling it away layer by layer, and before long, the sheath unfurled before him. Carved wood, adorned in brass edges, warrior semblances gracing along the cover and details, time and work etched into its sanctions, intricate designations applied in fastidious outlines.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say – a pattern everyone was accustomed to, but in these intervals, it was only because he so often didn’t understand the warmth, the generosity, of so many others. “Thank you.” Again, like an echo: It probably didn't encompass everything building and bridging in his chest, his words rarely did, but a generous smile followed, a softening of the feral expressions. “This is perfect. Did you make it?” Fellow Artisans, after all.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
Played by: Valentine Offline
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Posts: 135
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#5
SASCHA
Sascha felt the nervousness mixed with happiness within his tiny frame bubble even more powerful as Deimos received the gift and thanked him in that chocked manner. This made Sascha wonder how long it was since someone had given the man a gift and for a slight second even wondered if he had by mistake made Deimos uncomfortable now. One never knew how people would take the gesture after all but as he started to carefully unwrap the gift Sascha turned into a bright ray of sunshine, if possible even brighter than his normal self. If he hadn't had any self control he would probably bounce like a kid at Christmas over this exhilarating event. As the gift peaked out of its hiding Deimos seamed to be at a loss when it came to words as he looked at the piece Sascha had made him. The brute force of nervousness pounding within Sascha. What if his careful planning ended up being not a style Deimos appreciated? Those seconds of silence tore the asian man slightly at all directions at the same time and when Deimos finally spoke he let a sigh of relief escape him.

He felt like a bubble floating through the air and gave Deimos a wide smile that almost made the world seam like it had turned into evening at noon next to the happy Sascha. "I'm so glad you liked it! And yes, which is probably another reason it took so long to be ready. I just wanted to make sure i had not overlooked anything you know." One thing was very clear; Sascha pulled no stops when it came to gifts. All the research and crafting time he put into a gift was nothing for him as long as it made a friend happy! And hopefully could come to good use. "I remembered what type of sword you tend to use and it should fit like a glove.. i hope at least! Sadly i have no training in sword making however but something told me you have that part covered."
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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Posts: 2,333
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#6
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
It was appreciated: Deimos had a way of considering each gift and artifact offered to him with a singular sort of reverence, beholden, awed, quietly backing into his reserve when he was overwhelmed with the benevolence of others. Amalia’s beatifically carved whale from last summer’s celebration still sat on his nightstand, Auni’s little makeshift gifts had found their way along the hearth’s mantle, and any other treats or trinkets received had won over his heart quickly. “You did very well,” and he hastened another soft breath, long and low, beating and beckoning from his chest; proud of a fellow artisan’s efforts, humbled that he’d been chosen to showcase the wares. His eyes glanced back up to see the effervescence again, shaking his head, trying not to laugh.

Because this was precious and he wouldn’t make light of it. Placing the paper down on the ground, he inspected the sheath carefully, and then shifted it along his waist, over the weapons belt he’d already had manifested (poorly and plain, nothing compared to this fine example), adhering it, admiring it, the smile locked over the plains of his face – losing the essence of nonchalance the more and more Sascha rambled along, boyish qualities hovering there now, like he hadn’t been lost in seas of war and stretches of terror for days, months, years on end. “I shall have to try it.” Putting the bow back where it belonged, he reached for the sword he had leaning against the barrack walls, inclining towards the healer once more in order to ensure proper fit. The steel slid within, as if it were another home, and the grin manifested wholeheartedly; perhaps saying enough in its existence, more than his words ever could.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
Played by: Valentine Offline
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Posts: 135
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#7
SASCHA
Sascha had a tendency to rant, especially when he got happy over something like; giving a friend a gift they really liked. As he stood there rambling he saw (for once) the smile lurking in Deimos which made him stop for a second, blinking his eyes and he figured out what was amusing Deimos. As the lightbulb turned on in his head a wide grin overtook his face as he scratched the back of his head some a bit embarrassed. Yes Sascha hadn't really gone through many bad things in his life yet which probably made his ramblings a bit to naively innocent from time to time (more like always). He was however on his way in a slow pace but had a long way to go yet and to be honest his personality wasn't something that would easily change after all. He shined as bright as ever getting the praise that was always very well welcomed to hear considering he lived for his work and to be fair also was very good at it. Even if that was something Sascha probably never would see himself.

Sascha was a good artisan but pretty poor on everything else that was not artistic. He loved the arts; all from crafts to cooking and was good at most genres except weapons making, go figure haha. Though he did indeed have plans on learning it some day however.

As Deimos told him he was going to try it out that slight nervousness filled him up again since he would be mortified if it didn't fit well after all the calculations he had made. He watched as Deimos put that lovely bow down and how he took a hold at the sword to try it out. With a sigh of relief he watched the perfect fit happen before him and grinned in that boyish way again in triumph over that everything literally had worked out. "That is perfect!" Yes he couldn't hold the relief back at all anymore and turned right back into that bubble he had felt like before the nervousness, replying the grin he got from Deimos. "Now you will have an easy way to see which sword is yours as well! It fits you perfectly if i may say so myself!"

He stretched content out in front of Deimos before he walked over to the bow to pick it up as he couldn't help it. One would instantly think that he would do it in the same awkward manner as he held a sword but to the universes surprise he picked it up in a way as easily as one got dressed in the morning. "I have missed the bow, i truly have! It's literally the only weapon i have ever been good at handling." He said with that longing in his voice, making a mental note that he needed to make one for himself one of these days. "Would you mind if i took a few shots wit it?" He asked hopefully as he looked at Deimos in the bright way that seamed to exist only with Sascha. Yes he would never just shoot a bow that wasn't even his.
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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Posts: 2,333
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#8
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
The General never really knew what to do with other people’s excitement or joy; if it was a family member he might join in, but otherwise kept himself separated from ebullience and enthusiasm out of reserve and skepticism. Any exhilaration, beyond battlefield tactics (like age-old drums of war in his ears, in his blood), had been quickly snuffed out and scraped clean in the ilk of disaster, mayhem, and ruin lately. There was a temptation to reel back from Sascha’s rapture simply out of uncomfortable distinction, but he remained, steadfast, with the genuine smile crossing over his features, looking, glancing down at the ground, then back to the sheath and sword. “Thank you again.”

He watched then as Sascha went towards the bow – the last time they’d trained had been with wooden blades, impacts and measures of force and precision, without the increased threat of serrated edges or knives. It’d been to learn the moves, the motives, and the upheavals. But it seemed Sascha missed the particulars of the bow; a glow akin to his features that Deimos recognized from many archers of the past. He stepped back then, a silent obliging, granting him permission with a nod, then the rumbles of his voice. “You may,” offering his quiver in return too, a few arrows still left in its sanction. Moving forward, he made to remove the others from the target, pulling them outwards, shifting a few strands of straw back in their place, returning to place them within the same hold. Once he was out of the way, it was all Sascha’s opportunity to lay waste to the bullseyes and goals.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
Played by: Valentine Offline
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Posts: 135
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#9
SASCHA
"It was my pleasure!" Sascha wholeheartedly said as a reply on the thank you he got again with that outer wordly smile that seamed to come from another world. In a way that was true but not in that sense.

As he got allowed to handle the bow you could see how the happiness within Sascha kept on rising which shouldn't be possible and yet it did. He accepted the quiver and considering how trained he was it fell to place on his back as easy as an adult walked. Deimos ofcourse had no idea yet that Sascha was good with the bow but would see this soon enough. He waited til Deimos was out of the way before he reached back, grabbed one of the arrows to put it in place. His posture was perfect for the bow where he stood straight backed and tightened the shot. Impressivly quick he had let go of the arrow, steady on his hand and it pierced the air as it flew towards the target, landing perfectly in the middle of the target. Sascha was over the moon over being able to shoot again and almost didn't know where to stuff away all the excess happiness he felt. Turning his head with a happy smile towards Deimos again. "This was the only weapon i was ever good at in the military back home.. ohh how i missed it. Sadly a bow alone did not make a solider where i'm from but it have helped me out alot none the less."
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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#10
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Content to watch another’s skill and expertise with weaponry and munitions, Deimos took it as an opportunity to observe and study. There were quite a few with similar talents around the Hollowed Grounds, but they seemed to employ them for hunting purposes and rarely defensive measures (which was fair – given the little battle and warfare Naturals experienced). Arms folded across his chest, piercing eyes took in the change in Sascha’s demeanor as well – almost a serious quality beneath the sunshine and radiance, diving into what must’ve been more primordial, instinctual techniques, embedded within him from training, from multitudes and intervals of constant drawing, notching, and target practice. It was swift and polished, perfected archery, and he rumbled a note of approval in his throat when the arrow met the middle – sunken into the goal on keen aplomb.

Then the ebullience was back, and the Sword’s eyes swept away from the bullseye, and back to the healer, artisan, and bow-master. “We had many archers in our ranks.” A necessity, and it made them a soldier just as much as the ones battling along the front lines – as they took out adversaries, as they reigned and ranged from above, deadly and precise. Deimos would always have a healthy respect for their capabilities and achievements. Twisting his head, tilting it a fraction, he pondered out loud. “Would you like one?” A bow? He could easily craft one perfecting and personifying the other man.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
Played by: Valentine Offline
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#11
SASCHA
Yes back in China you needed to be good at every genre the military had or you would most likely die a gruesome death. China and the nearby countries was well known for how masterful they were in fighting, with weapons of many different types and martial arts. All the other men in his group had been terrifyingly good while he himself did miserably bad, except in bow art. Sure; he could hide in a tree with is bow and attack people, if that was in his nature that was, but as soon as he got spotted and surrounded he would die. There was just no way to survive it in Sascha's case.

As the question came flying towards him he looked like someone hit him straight in the face with an anvil over the pure surprise that question had on him. Wait.. what? Sascha wasn't very equipped to get stuff from others after all, he was mostly the person giving. To be offered a gift was chocking to him and he really didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth just to close it again cause he really couldn't find the words. After a quite long while he managed to get some words out however, even though he for some peculiar reason couldn't help but to stutter in the beginning of the sentence. "I..i.. i mean.. ehum.. i would truly love a bow." Damnit that overwhelming burning sensation underneath his eyelids started its reign but he needed to not let it win. Heck if he broke down over such a nice thing it would probably be a bit annoying, even for Deimos. Right? He fought the happy tears wanting to break free from the eyelid prison which made him look a bit like an emotional puppy still.
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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Posts: 2,333
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#12
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Perhaps they’d all come from lives not meant for gifts, acceptance, or tolerance, and it was all the more startling when granted so readily here. Helovia’s acts of kindness and compassion had been fleeting in the faces and foundations of upheaval, devastation, ruin, wreckage, and chaos. Caido seemed to offer it in spades.

So he aimed to return the favor; this was what he was used to - extending, offering, instead of having it placed upon him.

On Sascha’s agreement and accord, Deimos reflexively stared at the ground, then to his own digits, failing to notice any tears or overwhelmed statures, gathering magic within his palms. They started as their routine, gilded formation, vestiges and figments of wooden arches and glossed timber beginning to take shape between his hands, then extended slowly, building the configuration, an assembling of wares and weaponry. Eventually, between minute, scrupulous assembly, the bow took on its intended formation: copper-toned, meant to reflect sunshine dispositions, a brighter, cheerier hue than some others he’d made (like Sunjata’s, a darker onyx). Details etched and sketched their way into the foundations too, along the bottom, depictions of solar rays and life, the buoyancy and ebullience Sascha so often radiated. A matching quiver joined, the same semblances embossed and embedded, before he finally raised his head, extending the gifts properly; awaiting approval or the opposite.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Sascha Bach
Carpenter

Age: 22 | Height: 175 cm (5'7) | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 17
Played by: Valentine Offline
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Posts: 135
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#13
SASCHA
Sascha stood there, completely speechless as Deimos started to craft him a bow with the use of MAGIC. He didn't know what to say at all as the bow began to take form in front of his very eyes. His dark brown eyes sparkled in the light of the magic from the water within them as he fought so hard with keeping to himself. The bow turned out more, and more, and more brilliant during the course of the creation in a light copper tone of coloration. Carvings on the bow appeared with sun rays that really fit the bows colors brilliantly which made Sascha feel like he was in the presence of a god right now. It in some ways reminded him on that mystical glow he had seen from within that cave back on earth before he had been brought to Caido in what already felt like a lifetime ago, even though it was a year.

When it was all done he was just as speechless as before, blinking slowly before he with rather shaky hands accepted the beautiful gift. Felt the coolness of the wood in his hands and looked at the bow and quiver as it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Did there even exist words great enough to show exactly what he felt about his wonderful gift? He highly doubted that. As he caught himself just silently looking at the gift he needed to say something but all he could get out was; "I.. don't know what to say.." with a slight shiver in his voice. This was to good to be true!
sanctify yourself
and you will
sanctify society
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster/General

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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Posts: 2,333
MP:
#14
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
This was something Deimos had become more accustomed to: offering, extending, gifts, artifacts, or strength. He’d orchestrated much the same in Helovia and Isilme, just according to different fundamentals (death, protection, swords on throats, shields in hands). He’d guarded, a sweeping, savage ministration through borderlines and walls. He’d mauled, seeking to diminish, vanquish any threats hovering along their kingdoms, seeking out his own. He’d ripped and rendered, torn and bludgeoned, just so others wouldn’t have to. The beast would do the same here, no questions asked, no words necessary; but for now, the similarities juxtapositioned themselves in creation, in enchantments, in broadening, artisanal horizons.

The Sword’s eyes glanced towards Sascha’s, waiting for a reaction. For once though, there was only silence, and he had to tilt his head, read and scrutinize deeper into the notions. I don’t know what to say quivered and shuddered, and for once Deimos thought he might agree (because he never knew either – a favorite of silence and hushed liberations). But the bow was taken, seemingly accepted, and he hastened a softer sigh; relief maybe. “There are plenty of arrows in the armory, if you want to take some with you.” To practice, to divulge in hunting, in striving, in taking, in administering.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace


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