Time was going by. Too much time. Moros stood beneath the stairway, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths of anticipation as he watched the light grow and grow. He'd been enveloped in darkness up until this point, the lights of the wine cellar shattered, but now with the fire spreading this far the light from the room above was showing from between the cracks in the doorway. It illuminated the stairs, and from bouncing off the walls it illuminated parts of his face and body from between the thick wooden slats.
Too much time. Moros sneered, lips curling in frustration. The main floor must have been an inferno by this point. There was no way Apollo could have still been up there, still been chasing around for him, assuming he hadn't heard the bait of the racks crashing. Unless... Doom had hastily laid a number of traps for him, but Apollo wouldn't have fallen prey to them. Couldn't have. Could he? Artemis, yes, that was likely, but Apollo was the smarter of the two by far. If he had fallen to a rusted metal trap, a few dogs in the hallways or a handful of spikes concealed beneath a carpet Moros would have been sorely disappointed.
Enlightenment came to the tall, dark god in an instant then - enlightenment in the form of an arrow soaring over his shield, embedding in his collarbone.
The god snarled, screaming out at the top of his lungs. Not from pain. There was no pain there. Moros felt nothing. Only fury.
His head whirled around, fiery eyes glaring into the darkness of the cellar. Moros lifted his shield, hoisting it up in front of him only to have a second arrow speed from his left, piercing the god's side. Another howl of anger followed, "Apollo! Is this IT?!" Anger, followed by a laugh. "Is this all you can do after you kept me waiting?!" A long, deep chuckle that grew as another arrow sailed through the darkness. This one was caught by his shield, Moros moving Hedylogos' body in the way - he couldn't see Apollo, but it didn't take long to learn what direction he was firing from. Move around in the sea of wine and glass and it quickly became impossible to hide not only your direction, but your spot down to a fine point. "I see avenging your sister comes at your leisure!"
The tall god began to move, stepping from beneath the stairs, knee-deep in the sea of wine again. His chuckle became a cackle. His dark, overpowering tone lightened, becoming higher in pitch, as if he were nothing more than amused by this back and forth game of cat and mouse. "Shall I give her a message for you, Apollo?!" Another arrow. Now that he had a sense of where it was coming from, whether or not the god was moving, it was easily to block it with a shield the size of another person. Literally. "She's here with me, you know! She's been talking to me this entire time!" Another arrow. "She's in my HEAD!!"
He laughed still. Moros didn't care anymore. Perhaps he had gone mad; it no longer concerned him, not now, not in the heat of the moment. Everyone else around him had gone mad so long ago. Perhaps this was overdue. Perhaps now he might fit in with all of the fools.
Moros' steps took him backward, back to the base of the staircase, though his movements were becoming impeded by the arrows in his leg from before now mixing with the arrows in his side and chest. It didn't matter though. He was here, where he needed to be. He took two steps up the stairs, and then a third, enough to create some distance between him and the cellar full of wine. "Perhaps you'd like to apologize to her?..."
"...Since you came all this way and couldn't get the job DONE!"
A thick wooden beam crashed through the ceiling then. A thick, flaming wooden beam, through the bottom of the first floor, through the ceiling of the cellar. Right into the wine, setting the entire cellar ablaze in an instant. Doom had quite the dramatic sense of timing. And through the massive flames of the newfound inferno Moros could be heard standing to the side, his laughter echoing off the stone cellar walls.