DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Adept at listening and calculating while applying his own measures to another thing entirely, Deimos pondered if they were getting to the root of Talyson’s necessities in weaponry, or merely flaring out in other attributes. “You can always have it made collapsible,” pulling in notions of a polearm that could extend and be made miniscule within a flash. Whether or not that aided in the machinations and decision process, the Sword couldn’t be certain – always pinpointed and certain of what he intended for his own armament purposes. “Sounds like you want range, potentially with elements, and lightweight.” Would that be the glaive, or something different now?
Permitting the courier to think more on the properties, for he’d be receiving no finite answers from Deimos, the Warden unfurled another bout of incantations, before rising from his inspection and crouch. With a nod towards the other soldiers, the rest gathered up the necessities for the testing, before his attention wandered towards the others.
Belial, cheeky and ridiculous, opted to grant the smallest of hints over his current ingenious plan, swiping an unfurled wing along Talyson’s form, before stilling once more.
Permitting the courier to think more on the properties, for he’d be receiving no finite answers from Deimos, the Warden unfurled another bout of incantations, before rising from his inspection and crouch. With a nod towards the other soldiers, the rest gathered up the necessities for the testing, before his attention wandered towards the others.
Belial, cheeky and ridiculous, opted to grant the smallest of hints over his current ingenious plan, swiping an unfurled wing along Talyson’s form, before stilling once more.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
