[se] progress will be progress, however slow
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword

Age: 29 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 12 - Strg: 51 - Dext: 51 - Endr: 51 - Luck: 51 - Int: 2
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 3,795
MP: 2619
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Deimos fought a grimace; perhaps for his friend, perhaps for the epitome of LongNight, perhaps for all the stories and hearsay, and the vast unknown waiting for them. “Supposedly the monsters have been taken care of,” he paused, roasting a few more proportions, before eating some seeds, chewing quietly, thoughtfully. When he’d consumed his handful, a shrug of his shoulders undulated through the mass of muscle, the uncertainty still plaguing in bounds. “And I have not known them to go anywhere except the Grounds.” In theory, King’s End should be fine. If not, they could always utilize their shifts to escape in quick succession – but he was so tired of having to flee from things.

The fire crackled and the pumpkins melded to their swift demise; the Sword taking in the Sentinel’s words and plans. His eyes flickered down to the little griffin, understanding the semblance, the concern, in wanting to keep companions and compatriots safe. “That will be fine.” She could always be another watchful eye, and Belial would likely tolerate her well – he didn’t mull over Zuriel’s emotions within. Some furrowing of his brows followed though, on aspects of funerals and honor. “We could always build a pyre,” easily done with incantations or mere labor. “Or a memorial.” Like he’d done so for Rexanna, years and years ago.
Unite and spread the heart apart
Noah Olson
the Sentinel of the North

Age: 29 | Height: 6'2 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 6 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 19 - Int:
EIRA - Mythical - Griffin (Venom)
Played by: Time Offline
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Posts: 744
MP: 140
I wait and tell myself "life ain't chess,"
The hesitation still clouded his deep blue eyes, but as Deimos gave his support for the need to lay Korbin to rest properly, he nodded and relaxed some. "That will be good." He said, resting his hand on top of Eira's head for a moment. He scratched the griffin briefly, drinking in the warmth she offered as she settled down next to him and devoured her portion of pumpkin.

Noah stood, having eaten as much as he could with the feeling of unease churning his stomach. He felt torn as he stood there, knowing he needed to go to Torchline and recover Korbin and discover what happened, but wanting to stay here and let grief swallow him whole. He knew what the right answer was. He knew it in his soul, but it felt hard to attain. It was easy to see the discomfort, the tearing of himself, as he stood there before Deimos -- but before he could let the wrong choice win, Noah took up his bow and sighed. "I'll be bacl." And with that, set off in the forest towards Torchline.


But no one comes in and yes, you're alone...

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