Personal Quest if the sun never shows its face again
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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#15
DEIMOS
After their manifestations, machinations, and maneuvers hailed successfully, the Sword pulled away from the earth, and allowed himself a break. While Morgan walked the perimeter, inspecting, the beast coiled long, deep breaths, and he could feel Zuriel reaching in through the bond (maybe with a sneer, maybe with a quiet concern, maybe with a told you so quip of pushing himself too hard). He ignored her with a clench of his jaw and a narrowing of his eyes, warnings, before they moved onto the next task.

Ningos.

Deimos had somehow managed to not come across these creatures before, but had heard of Chulane’s wishes and aspirations with them. He wasn’t overly impressed, tilting his head in a particularly predacious way – every inch a beastly faction. But these birds didn’t seem menacing, tempestuous, or dangerous – just a bit foolish and dim. Would there be an effective way to drive them out, without inciting his more minatory predilections? His magic was likely too strong, and potentially damaging, to the winged contortions.

So he’d try a different tactic.

Satchel and tools left aside, the General shifted – tawny wings, vivid plumage, gilded eagle soaring into the skies, and then plunging – intending to look as though he might very well savage and snag at them all, without extending talons, without gripping into prey. He’d lift up again briefly, before descending once more, trying to scare and scatter them off.

--

Deimos shifts into his golden eagle form in order to scare the ningos away.
"who's gonna let you?"
they asked. i said
"who's gonna stop me?"
Hester Mac Girr An Adhastair
Bard

Age: 27 | Height: 5’4” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 1 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#16
Hester

Fools rush in, so here I am
Very glad to be unhappy
Somehow, Hester had no idea how, their combined efforts cleared the rocks away, the trench widening, growing into something. There is always satisfaction in seeing hard work pay off, and this is no different. If anything, it's even more satisfying than usual, purely because of the scale.

Hester is ready for a break, as the trench comes together, but chasing ningos is the next best thing. There is a long, flat stretch of ground, crowds of dumb white birds settling, and the chance to really prove her title of 'ningo chaser'. Just a pity Chuy isn't here to see it. The bard shrinks into the shape of a sheep, fluffy, with fierce horns, and restless legs. Then, with her head lowered, she charges through the trench, aiming at the biggest crowds, the ones not being wrangled by the others.



Hester shifts into a sheep and charges the ningo's
I can't win, but here I am
More than glad to be unhappy
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
EUNIKE - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#17
There's nothing you believe you want
It seemed her companions had more exciting methods for scaring away the Ningos, each of them having some ability related to animals. Morgan watched as they shifted and compelled, all three successful in their efforts and the area soon clear of the native birds of Halo. They would be back as soon as the walls were unattended, she was sure, but at least they had a chance to strengthen the trench first.

"We have rocks and concrete for the bottom of the trenches, and planks to rest up the sides." She told all three, gesturing to bags and boxes being dragged up to the gates by a couple of guards. "Without something to support the structure, it will be susceptible to collapsing." Especially with Halo's cruel climate, she wasn't sure the work would last longer than a season without this step.

Morgan herself went to go and help transport the supplies, taking them to various points around the walls, so that those working to reinforce the digging wouldn't have to take multiple trips back. This walk made her feel almost sentimental about the Citadel, all she had achieved so far as Warden, and as she got to the three of them again she told them: "When we have completed Frey's requests and have the results we need, I should ask for a plaque outside on the wall, to commemorate your work here today."


--
Help lay the foundations for the trenches.
Things to do:
- Pour Concrete (it's heavy!)
- Smooth out Concrete
- Place in planks before it dries

No post Order

One task left after this one! <3
But where were you when it all came down on me?
Morgan
Base Code by Sky!
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
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#18
Love mends even the broken parts
Nodding at Morgan's further instructions, Loren glanced at the supplies on hand. When she brought up commemorating their work he immediately shook his head. "No need." Walking over to the concrete, he peered at it.

Then he bent don't. Lifting with both his strength and his telekinesis, he staggered over towards the trench they had dug. Tilting the container, he would pour the concrete in as he walked. Seeing as smoothing the concrete was a separate task he just focused on his own for now. The last thing he wanted to do was drop the concrete on his foot or something. He'd recover, but it'd be embarassing.


Loren lifts the concrete with both his physical strength and his mageglass boosted basic telekinesis and pours it into the trench.
loren




Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#19
DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
Amused momentarily at chasing down birds, looping, presiding, diving, and plummeting until vicious descents made his conditions known – likely renderings of joviality clear, tangible, through Attuned adornments, he was mildly disappointed when the flock had been chased away. The beast eventually relinquished the liberation, the freedom, of the air, shifting back into his monolithic form, feathers tucked away, placed back on the earth to further study their next task.

Guards and supplies, rocks and concrete, and another manifestation of support. Understandable, given the potential climate, coming days and seasons where snow and cold would be far more treacherous. But there’d be no need for enchantments or incantations this round, merely strength, brawn, and calculating considerations over where figments were placed. With Loren taking the pouring of the concrete, his hands went for the wooden planks (some faction in the back of his mind, from days where a group of them had dug a damn tunnel underneath the prison). “I can place the planks.”

The beast arched a brow at the note about commemorations, loosening a brief snort at the Firebrand’s response, and then followed after Loren. Zuriel snatched up a few tools in her mouth, intending to be useful, since all she’d done so far was stand and watch, ready to assist when necessary. Once Loren’s efforts were complete, Deimos attempted to manifest his own, repetitive actions rendered with board after board, nail after nail, hammer after hammer, intending for them to be strong, secure, and steady.

--

Deimos uses physical strength and tools to place the wooden boards along.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
Hester Mac Girr An Adhastair
Bard

Age: 27 | Height: 5’4” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 1 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#20
Hester

Fools rush in, so here I am
Very glad to be unhappy
With the ningo’s successful spooked, it was time for the next step, the pouring of concrete, the setting of supports. It seemed like another thing meant for those stronger and broader than her, but at least here, there is one small task she can focus on, one thing she can do almost easily.

The concrete needs to be smoothed as it’s poured, needs any air pockets taken care of, and who else but her will do it?

Honestly, probably any of them, but the others are focused on more unwieldy tasks, so the attuned gets to work, grabbing the tools she thinks she needs and following the pools of poured concrete, smoothing them into something that actually looked complete. Her head snapped up at Morgan’s words, her nervous voice following, though she was a touch hesitant to speak up in the presence of so many strangers. ”The um... this,” The wet surface of the concrete is gestured towards, ”Its still wet. We could just... put our handprints in, instead of a fancy plaque.” It feels more personal that way, though she immediately regrets speaking up, speaking for the others.
I can't win, but here I am
More than glad to be unhappy
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
EUNIKE - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#21
There's nothing you believe you want
Her team certainly seemed unwilling to see their names honoured on the wall. While Morgan was glad they weren't vain, she was a little bemused that they didn't want thanks for what had been a difficult task well done, the foundations laid with ease and supported by the planks, then neatened by Hester. She'd not imagined the project would go as smoothly as it had.

Hester's suggestion made her smile, though. A way to still make note of the moment, what they had accomplished and who had worked towards the Citadel's safety, but perhaps more secret, subtle. "That's a wonderful idea." Morgan glanced to Deimos and Loren, eyes that said: disappoint her and I'll kill you. "Let's do that."

Kneeling by the wet concrete, Morgan removed a glove and pressed her hand deep into the mixture, until a mark was left.

---
Press your hand into the wet concrete!
This is the last task, next round will be round up :)
But where were you when it all came down on me?
Morgan
Base Code by Sky!
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:
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#22
Love mends even the broken parts
The process went shockingly well, and before Loren knew it, he had poured the last of the concrete. Setting the final container down, he straightened up with a wince. Rubbing his lower back, he met Morgan's gaze.

Resisting the urge to sigh or whine or roll his eyes or any number of the inappropriate responses that sprang to mind, he just walked towards the recently poured and neatened concrete. Hesitating for just a moment, he reached in and down and pressed his hand into the wet material. Once an impression had formed, he pulled his hand out and wiped his palm on a nearby patch of snow. Glancing at the Warden, he raised his eyebrows.



Loren presses his hand into the concrete.
loren




Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#23
DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
Neither the Reaper nor the Sword had ever committed actions for the heroics or bestowals; a beast who ensured things were committed because they were necessary. It didn’t matter if it was in the arches and eaves of danger and treachery, of rebellion and sedition, or trivial pursuits in between. If he could assist, he did so, with no need for further instances, commemorations, or plaques. But the other Attuned’s words flickered over, tracing his notions with a semblance of amusement – wet concrete, makeshift molds for memories and lineages, for descendants to see which palms had borne the leagues, labor, and work gone into this particular venue.

Morgan’s glance left little room for argument, but he wouldn’t have anyway. The request was simple, and ensuring he didn’t realm into the semblances of mischief, the General crouched before the concrete. Reaching forward, he placed one massive, calloused hand into the top of the mixture beside the others, waiting until the pressure of his presence sunk into its depths, and then removed it. The lightest of smiles curled in the corner of his mouth, dimpling slightly, bemused with a vague snort. If this was what he was remembered for – then so be it, perhaps; his mark chiseled and made.

--

Deimos puts his hand in the concrete!
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
Hester Mac Girr An Adhastair
Bard

Age: 27 | Height: 5’4” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 1 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#24
Hester

Fools rush in, so here I am
Very glad to be unhappy
Hesters eyes do flick between the other in their little group, but the vast majority of her focus is locked on Morgan, the attuned doing her best to not shrink beneath the wardens eyes. The smile that spreads over the older woman’s face has a much brighter one crossing Hester’s, though she manages to resist the urge to clap when Morgan approves.

Despite it being her idea, Hester holds back, waiting for the others to be done before kneeling down herself, scribbling the year beneath their handprints while her hand is still mostly clean, then adding her own mark to the mix. It feels right. Feels good, being a pet of soemthing bigger than herself, to be making a mark on her home.

The thin layer of concrete is left to dry on her hand, Hester rising again, and beaming up at Morgan.



Hester makes her mark!
I can't win, but here I am
More than glad to be unhappy
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
EUNIKE - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#25
There's nothing you believe you want
They all placed their handprints to the concrete, making their marks within the ground and ensuring that the legacy of work done to save the Citadel during Deepfrost would have their names upon it. While Morgan was not prone to fits of vanity, the thought did make her proud. That her reign as Warden would go down as one productive.

"Thank you, for all your help." She said to the gathered workers, make sure to meet each of their eyes as she spoke. "This will be worth the effort, once all the tasks are completed." Since she had been a child, the Citadel had stopped dead in the Deepfrost, everything coming to halt at the freezing and unworkable conditions; maybe soon they would be able to keep the Citadel going all year, making Halo better and better by the day.

{FIN - thanks for helping!}
But where were you when it all came down on me?
Morgan
Base Code by Sky!


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