DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
There was always something to be said for those willing to put time, effort, and work into manifesting greater, grander things. Somehow, someway, there were others willing to provide labor for entanglements – and while he did the same for them – it was regarded, appreciated, for the manifestations of efficiency. Had he done this by himself, it would’ve taken days – and now, hopefully, with their authority, assistance, and abilities, it’d be countered and resolved within a matter of hours.
The General addressedAmun with a warm, dignified smile, a nod of his head as he twisted and turned towards the Ascended in the doorway. “Thank you for coming. I presume the guild is fine?” He made no mention of the earlier encounters – bore no weight on sickness and afflicted moments; gods knew he hadn’t been in his right state of mind for a time either. Aisha slipping by wasn’t a surprise, she’d been expected, and he permitted the depths of his grin to remain, for a short while at least, before they got to work.
“Let me show you what we may be up against,” not a grim outlook, but a tilt of his head to ensure there was plenty of motions to be had. He led them along the front parlor, towards the back. “Repairs,” and he pointed out the damaged structures, the places where some walls had been bowed in, and needed some sturdy, strong reinforcing. Thereafter, to the armory, an obvious mess of entangled weapons, clearly left to pick and choose at the convenience, and no order compromised into what could be fine, quality armaments. “Sorting, and I can build some shelves to ensure they all have a proper place,” and then towards the training grounds themselves, out a side door, to where the covering outlined its way into snow – its own assemblage of broken, weary looking targets, piles of drifted snow, and the general exposure to the elements. “Choose what you would like to do, and I can provide the necessary equipment.”
--
Tasks are as follows, pick one and Deimos will take the last! Grab any tools you need, Deimos will have provided them!
- Helping to repair portions of the structure, damaged from last LongNight
- Sorting through weapons; assume Deimos has put up proper shelving
- Begin cleaning up the training grounds portion, starting with either the targets, snowdrifts, or cracked, exposed walls
We’ll move to the next round when everyone’s posted! Success will be determined by dice roll for funsies!
The General addressed
“Let me show you what we may be up against,” not a grim outlook, but a tilt of his head to ensure there was plenty of motions to be had. He led them along the front parlor, towards the back. “Repairs,” and he pointed out the damaged structures, the places where some walls had been bowed in, and needed some sturdy, strong reinforcing. Thereafter, to the armory, an obvious mess of entangled weapons, clearly left to pick and choose at the convenience, and no order compromised into what could be fine, quality armaments. “Sorting, and I can build some shelves to ensure they all have a proper place,” and then towards the training grounds themselves, out a side door, to where the covering outlined its way into snow – its own assemblage of broken, weary looking targets, piles of drifted snow, and the general exposure to the elements. “Choose what you would like to do, and I can provide the necessary equipment.”
--
Tasks are as follows, pick one and Deimos will take the last! Grab any tools you need, Deimos will have provided them!
- Helping to repair portions of the structure, damaged from last LongNight
- Sorting through weapons; assume Deimos has put up proper shelving
- Begin cleaning up the training grounds portion, starting with either the targets, snowdrifts, or cracked, exposed walls
We’ll move to the next round when everyone’s posted! Success will be determined by dice roll for funsies!
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
