Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
“She was a piece of work,” to put it mildly – considering the sanctions, drawn up notices, ridiculous pantomiming of councils, and everything notched and loaded in between. She hadn’t made it more than a few season or two before disappearing anyway, and that’d been more than enough time to sow many layers of discord between one small portion of land. “Hopefully we will never see another of their ilk in power.” Because, at the least, a vast amount of them were capable of dealing some heavy blows, and ensuring the process wouldn’t occur again. Gaze rising to the proportions of ice out over the sea, the reflection turned back to guild affairs and tactics, memory framing the modest battle they’d encountered. “It was guarding the tomb of its bonded,” which caused a slight frown, considering the companions in their wake, the measures between shared souls. “A griffin, at one point. But it had been attacking passersby.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We baited it, and waited for an opportunity to strike. It did not suffer very long.” Nor had they, given the propensity for shields and power.
