[PQ] leave the maul by the fireplace

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The tables melded and molded beneath his incantations and applications; fixed in accord with whatever haphazard shape they’d been in. Adequate and capable of withholding some sturdy amount of weight, the beast nodded once he’d backed away, glanced over his work, and then grabbed hold of the splintered, fractured pieces, accentuating their place as kindling beside the hearth. He raised his head from the piling when Aisha announced their next round of tasks – only arching a brow at Noah’s shattered proportions – and only gave a gentle smile at the mentions of the armory. “I will take the weapons,” he inclined with a suitable nod, as if he’d go for the staircase when there were armaments to inspect. Upon coming into the makeshift arsenal, he did notice some of the cache looked vaguely familiar – narrowing his eyes for a moment at the possibility of Aisha pilfering some from the barracks. Snorting to himself, he started in on organizing, placing armor aside and putting axes with their brethren, swords with their fellow blades, and so on. -- Deimos goes to organize the armory! master of nothing place; of recoil and grace