From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
There's a nondescript brown package lying in the center of a milling group of people. Right in the open, where the most eyes will see it. If one were to approach, they'd see parchment tacked to the top. A message is scrawled on top, in a variety of changing hands, as if to intentionally shroud the identity of the writer. The message is as follows:
There exists individuals who will not allow the False Shepherd to insert her pawns into our world. Followers of the Old Gods, know that there are those who seek to eradicate this infestation of unnatural creations. Let this be a warning to all who call themselves Ascended - you are not above us as your name implies. You may not bleed, but you will burn.
Inside, should the box be opened, there are severed feet. Fluid coats them in mimicry of blood, and they were clearly brutally hacked off. There is nothing else to be found.
The crowd, and its noise, naturally draw more and more people. It piques the Wraith’s curiosity so she approaches, hearing whispers and gasps, rumors of what they’re all looking at. What she hears - it can’t be true, can it? After a bit of maneuvering, she manages to weave and subtly push her way to the front until she can see and hear properly, and what she finds makes her fluid surge.
It wasn’t about Robin, specifically. He’d been MIA and useless. In that regard, the loss doesn’t even begin to measure up to Rex and Clem.
It was that it had been done at all. That makes three of them gone, murdered, taken by the heralds and their followers, or so Wessex determines after snatching the note from someone’s hand. Rolling her eyes at a bit of the wording, she hands it back to a random person and pushes back through the crowd. Just another thing to warn everyone about.
Sorry Mabel, that war is coming whether you want it to or not, she thinks grimly to herself, safe with the feeling that this one, at least, she couldn't have prevented. But there is now so much work to do.
WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here
“Oi! Move!” I say, throwing elbows left and right in order to see what’s goin’ on at the center of this group. It ain’t fightin’, that’s for sure, so I’m actually interested. Gods, Torchers can be rude fuckers, so I pull a regular from one side and promise ‘im free drinks for a night if he bulldozes ‘is way through for me.
It works - and I make a note to use that tactic more often.
And while I’m in the middle of the mess, I’m listenin’ to the people as try to guess who dropped the box, who managed to catch and Ascended, who could speak like that. It’s a good disguise, that’s for sure. And though I ain’t surprised by the feet (like bodies don’t wash up on the beach often), or even really shocked, it’s somethin’ I clearly need to stick around for. So after seein’ the spectacle, I melt back into the group, listenin’ and tryin’ to take mental notes for later.
I guess this is liaisoning, ain’t it? I bet it’ll be all over Haulani in a bit, all the talk in the bars. I stick around until it doesn’t seem productive anymore, then head back to listen to the drunk conjecture at the Hanged Man. Sometimes it’s wild and amusin’ and sometimes they unknowingly hit on somethin’ plausible.