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Character of the Season
Frail in body but dangerously quick of mind, Nikandr is the sort of character who proves that curiosity can be just as perilous as any weapon. A necromancer, inventor, and problem-solver with more ambition than self-preservation, Niki approaches the world like a puzzle box begging to be opened, even when what’s inside has teeth. Blunt, dry-witted, fiercely independent, and carrying a history best left partially buried, he has a knack for making even failure feel fascinating. Whether he’s raising the dead, moving across Caido to King's End, or experiencing a hangover for the first time, Nikandr brings a wonderfully strange spark to Caido, and we can’t wait to see what trouble his brilliant mind wanders into next.
Congratulations, Niki!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
When the names were drawn and the riders placed, a broad and bright smile spread across Noah’s features. Noah wondered which kind of man would stay mounted when the world turned violent and unpredictable, and whether Zavien even knew yet which kind he was. Then he was griffin, bull, competition.
The chutes rattled like they might tear apart. Wood groaned andiron clanged. Inside, Noah’s griffin form coiled as tight as a drawn bow — hindquarters bunching, talons and claws carving splinters from the floor, wings half-spread and shuddering with caged force.
The gate cracked open.
He detonated into daylight.
No gradual surge — just violence. A vertical explosion of fur and feathers and fury. His forehand hit the air first, wings beating once with a thunderclap that kicked up dust in a wild plume. His hind legs launched high, back rounding hard before Noah twisted.
He didn’t buck like a bull. He spiraled.
The sentinels left shoulder dropped, his right wing snapped open, and his entire mass corkscrewed mid-bound. He barely touched earth again before he rebounded, and launched again — higher — hindquarters kicking skyward in a brutal flick meant to rip balance away.
He landed crooked on purpose and rebounded instantly, a chain of impacts with no rhythm to learn, no pattern to predict.
He throws Noah a friendly smile as he approaches the gate, even offering a wave that hides the trembling of his hand - not that the griffin can do much in return. Stepping onto the metal bars along the side, he lets the assistants direct him as he chuckles a low whisper to the man, "I apologize in advance for any pulled hair." Zavien will try his best, but in the heat of the moment, he can't promise that he won't accidentally rip the hair from his back.
Under the impression this is all for good fun and games, he starts by adjusting himself towards Noah's neck, tucking his feet around the wing joints to hold him in place. However, the moment his thighs wrap around the broad shoulders, he feels every muscle of tension, alarm bells firing from every corner of his brain, panic threatening to settle in his chest. This doesn't feel like the stance of someone here to enjoy the show. This feels like a beast ready to drop him from the sky.
Zavien braces against the thick mane of fur, wrapping his hands around chunks of hair as he lowers himself down, his own body going onto high alert for whatever schemes the griffin has. Instinct has him reaching for the lifeline in his gut, a quiet, desperate prayer reaching out to the spirits of the world, Please don't let me fall.
Then the chute is opening and the world explodes in movement - up. Cursing quietly, Zavien's muscles coil tight, hooking feet beneath wings and thighs clamping tight around the seat he's found. His abdomen solidifies protectively, hunching him close enough that he can practically taste the griffin's mane where his hands are clamped firmly into clumps of hair. And then he prays, doing his best not to look down as Noah twists to the side. He shifts with it, resisting the force of each motion by leaning into the holds he has, hoping they don't fail him.
Zavien channels a spirit to stay on then holds Noah's mane for dear life.
Channeling (Accepted) : Allows an Accepted to channel a herald/demigod/spirit during a time of crisis (2x a season). Can be combined with other accepted channeling to increase power.
Type: Light | Rank: Upgraded | Cost: Action
A group of Speaking Squirrels bursts into view, chattering excitedly as they scramble over roots and stones. Tails flick wildly as they wave their little paws and shout in unison.
“Come!” one calls, racing ahead a few steps before stopping abruptly. “Follow!” another adds, pointing in a direction that leads directly into a dead end or an entirely unremarkable patch of ground.
They regroup quickly, whispering among themselves before trying again, utterly convinced of their own usefulness. Whether they ever manage to lead anyone anywhere is doubtful, but their enthusiasm never wanes.
Speaking Squirrels
Areas Found: Hollowed Grounds, King's End, Greatwood — Common
Appearing like a slightly larger version of a common ground squirrel, the speaking squirrels - as their name suggests - can speak. Or they appear to. Their vocabulary is limited to "yes", "no", and "follow me!" Though it is entirely unclear whether or not they understand actually speech and the words they are saying, they nonetheless will answer questions and will lead wayward souls further astray. Calls of "follow me!" have led a number of victims to their death, as the squirrels have absolutely no idea where they are going.
Limited Speech: vocabulary is only “yes,” “no,” and “follow me!” and it’s unclear they understand the words; Misleading Guide: will confidently lead wayward souls astray without any sense of direction; Chorus Echo: nearby squirrels pick up the cry, creating a misleading chorus from multiple directions; Gap Squeeze: slips through holes and hedge tunnels too small for most pursuers
TRAITS
Slightly Larger Ground Squirrel: looks like an upsized ground squirrel with bright, curious eyes; Tree & Wall Climber: agile on trunks, ruins, and hedges; Hedgerow Local: nests in the twists and hedgerows, popping in and out of tiny gaps; Fearful but Curious: skittish at noise yet drawn to travelers and their shiny gear
ACTIONS
Chatter Reply: answers any question with “yes” or “no,” regardless of sense; “Follow Me!”: darts a few bounds, stops to look back, then scurries on, luring travelers deeper; Tail Flag: flicks its tail to signal others or draw attention to a false turn; Dart & Vanish: bolts up a trunk or into a hedge-gap, reappearing on a different branch a moment later
Noah felt it in the drag of weight across his shoulders, in the subtle shift of balance that refused to break despite the violence he poured into every motion. Zavien was still there. Surprise flashed first, sharp and instinctive and bright, then dissolved into a fierce, exhilarated determination that steeled across his chest despite the boyish joy beneath it.
His wings snapped wide, catching air not for lift, but for disruption. The sudden gust roared backward as Noah launched into another brutal leap. He twisted midair, spine bending before snapping straight, hindquarters firing high in a kick meant to unseat even the most stubborn rider. Stubborn didn't just describe the riders though. A few, stupid or delighted he couldn't quite tell, talking squirrels ran int othe arena and sputtered around wildly. Noah kept his focus despite them.
To send them further away, a rough, exhilarated growl tore from the griffin as he landed hard and immediately pivoted, claws gouging trenches while he threw his weight sideways into a violent spin. A tornado, a controlled storm, he surged forward without warning, bounding into a sprint that lasted only three strides before he slammed to a halt and lowered his front end towards the dirt, surging backward just so. The abrupt stop sent shock through muscle and bone in a jarring attempt to tear Zavien loose through sheer whiplash.
Without an Attuned bond to communicate or any expressions to see, it's nearly impossible to tell what Noah's feeling, and yet, Zavien swears the man is getting a kick out of this - quite literally. His body jerks with the motion threatening to unseat him and he digs his hands deeper into the soft fur of the mane. His stomach drops with the altitude until they're on the ground again, his relief palpable in the shuddering breath he takes.
With his primary fear alleviated, Zavien's able to take a full breath that turns into a grunt as Noah pivots into a spin. His body adjusts for the momentum, one side contracting tighter to counteract the force. The desperation of his hold turns to confidence as he starts to enjoy the physical challenge. Even as the griffin spins round and round, a smile begins to form, tense but bright enough to see through the fur he presses into.
Suddenly, Noah stops, the motion forceful in a direction he doesn't expect. Grunting at the impact, he tries to direct himself forward into the large neck of the creature instead of the open air and awaiting ground. His hands clutch tighter in the mane while his feet cling to their hold around the back of his large wings, silently praying his grasp holds.
Zavien uses his hold on Noah's mane and wings to try staying on.
Noah surged upward before Zavien could recover, front end lifting in a powerful rear that stretched his full height into the air. Once again his wings flared wide. His muscles coiled tight beneath fur and feather, every part of him aligning toward one decisive movement.
Then he dropped his front end sharply and spun.
The motion was explosive--a catapulting tornado rather than a buck. Power drove clean from his haunches through the arch of his spine. He felt Zavien’s weight slide past the line of balance, momentum no longer something he could fight. The Sentinel felt the exact instant the contact broke.
A pulsing mixture of triumph and reluctant admiration flared through him as Zavien lifted free. Noah twisted immediately, claws digging deep as he spun to track Zavien’s trajectory. The competitive fire faded just enough for the concern towards his friend to surface beneath it, a low rumble leaving his chest as he watched the man descend into dirt.
He manages to stay on for what he thinks is the worst of it, but Zavien's quickly proved wrong. Noah rears back then bolts again, twisting so sharp that he doesn't even have a chance to brace for it. His body moves like a whip, ripping his hands from the mane that's been his lifeline. His feet slip from their hold under the wings, body suspending for a moment before hurtling towards the ground.
Zavien flails before tucking his body tight, anticipating the impact before it hits. Dust and dirt cloud around him, his side slamming into the earth. It rattles his brain and pushes the air from his lungs with a dull pain that localizes in his left shoulder. The trajectory has him rolling a few times before coming to a stop where he sprawls his limbs against the solid ground.
More aches begin to blossom, but the short fall seems to have kept him primarily intact. Enough that he grins towards Noah, hair tousled and smeared with dirt, a soft chuckle on his lips. "That could have been worse."
