DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Deimos would argue it was suicidal to come rushing in on someone with little more than gumption, hope, and a prayer – but he’d also recently fought Koa with the same regard, and an inward eye roll. Despite his mass, he’d long since learned how to fend off swift assaults, training specifically in those areas, and utilizing enchantments.
His methods were simple for the time being – unleashing the rush of his water incantations until they blended and bent into icy formations, a tangible shield at the forefront of his might. Her daggers would find themselves embedded for an instant or more, unless she sought to peel them away and leave herself wide open to pending assaults.
As she retreated though, he’d find an opening and opportunity. His incantations had grown, encompassed, and magnified since the last time they’d met – and he portioned parts of his elemental prowess to unfurl rapid ice shards, much like daggers, towards her form.
His methods were simple for the time being – unleashing the rush of his water incantations until they blended and bent into icy formations, a tangible shield at the forefront of his might. Her daggers would find themselves embedded for an instant or more, unless she sought to peel them away and leave herself wide open to pending assaults.
As she retreated though, he’d find an opening and opportunity. His incantations had grown, encompassed, and magnified since the last time they’d met – and he portioned parts of his elemental prowess to unfurl rapid ice shards, much like daggers, towards her form.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
