[Training] [se] dead language mystery

Deimos His name shouted across the outcrops made him instantly realize why Zuriel had been on such high alert – and the tones, the demeanor, of the individual didn’t make him any less apprehensive either. Straightening out from his crouch amongst the stones, taut and rigid and unyielding, the Sword nodded toward the priest, though he couldn’t be just as jovial or frenetic. Not after other circumstances, stories unfurling their way through Torchline’s streets. There were a horde of inquiries layered against the back of his mind, and he doubted any of them would be answered, so he kept them lodged there, closing up his bag quickly, and tightening the cords along the top. “Gideon,” he registered with a low rumble, a nod of his head. Belial gave his own spirited greeting from the top of the staircase, and the unicorn simply stared. “Finishing up on some guild business,” which was true, for the daemon had been taken care of some distance away, all manners healed and reinstated. Quick scrutiny and piercing examinations followed, and he wasn’t certain he liked the way the priest was glancing at him. “And you?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime