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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!
Stormbreak's altitude made Deepfrost biting despite its proximity to Torchline, but the training ring was practically cozy within the tight space, hot breath and sweat compounding into a thick atmosphere that was perfect for bare chests and t-shirts. Zavien had already stripped down to just a pair of pants, working his way through a warm-up between greetings and various interruptions from fellow Dragoons.
Sol sat off to the side, perched on a wall as he watched Zavien finish his final rotation of the sword. He took a deep breath, taking a hand to rub out the last bit of tension in the massive scar at his side. Nodding to another familiar face, he spotted one he hadn't expected to see amongst the crowd. Breaking into a grin, he raised a hand in greeting. "Noah. It's great to see you. Are you here for some training?"
10-11-2025, 05:45 AM (This post was last modified: 10-11-2025, 06:19 PM by Noah.)
We've been shown how not to live by gracious kings of old
Making his way from the Celestine to the Dragon's Nest felt like second nature. He had walked that path the same way through the city so many times he couldn't count them in the short time that he lived here. When Vi first called him. When he joined the Order. It was a lifetime ago, but his muscles never forgot the path. He took the same steps, the same way, and found himself stepping into familiar training grounds. Without an ounce of violent purple to be seen. Relief trickled through his spine like the faithful run of a backcountry stream, smoothing out the riverstones of his spine as he took in the familiar scent -- sharper, intensified, back with his attuned nature.
He rolled his shoulders and even let slip a smile to a few familiar faces. Eira chirped and settled herself up in a dragon perch, welcomed by two familiar silver dragons from their time here before.
Before he could truly settle in, he heard his name from across the grounds. Turning, realization moving through him before his eyes caught sight of him, Noah smiled broadly towards Zavien. "I was looking for you, actually." He said when he closed the distance between them, hand out to greet the other man. "Lena said she thought you might be here. I wouldn't mind stretching some shifted muscles, though, if you've got time for that." Noah lifted a brow at his friend, wondering if he was up for the challenge.
With Zavien having agreed, Noah moved with his friend towards a clear spot in the training ground. Shiftin to his lynx form, he readied himself. The attuned lowered himself into the dusy arena, belly close to the ground, muscles tightening in a slow ripple beneath his spotted coat. His ears flattened, tail twitching behind him, the only warning before he moved. He sprang with the contained violence of a trap snapping shut. He did not bare teeth or rake with claws—this wasn’t a hunt, but the force behind him was all predator. He aimed low, driving his weight toward his friend’s legs with the intent to topple rather than tear.
Zavien raised his eyebrow at the news Noah was searching for him. He wasn't sure what the man might have needed, but he was met with a firm handshake and a bright smile. "I always have time for that."
---
Rolling his shoulders, Zavien set aside his sword, deciding it would be better to face the lynx with a staff rather than risk slicing into skin. He wasn't as experience with the weapon, but he'd trained enough with the other Dragoons to feel comfortable with the wood in his grasp.
Noah shifted and he adjusted his weight, bracing for the attack when it ultimately came. The lynx was a formidable force, lunging for his legs to barrel him off balance at lightning speed. Like he might a rabid dog, Zavien whorled the staff, hitting the Attuned's side as he stepped away, barely managing to avoid a paw that brushed his leg. "Geez!" He spun, trying to put distance between him and Noah to give him a better chance at reacting to the fast creature.
We've been shown how not to live by gracious kings of old
The crack of wood against his ribs thrummed through him, a jolt of pain blooming bright and sharp. It stung and he felt his nerves spike and tingle. A quick hiss left him in reaction, as his head snapped toward Zavien. The man was already spinning away to buy himself space.
Noah didn’t give it.
He surged forward, body dropping into another predatory lunge. But this time he didn’t aim to bowl Zavien over head-on. Instead, he cut sharply to the side at the last moment, paws silent on the trainign ground floor, angling to flank him.
Then he struck. He came darting in low toward Zavien’s exposed side, one heavy paw striking toward the back of the man’s knee in a controlled but forceful swipe meant to destabilize rather than shred. He pushed through with his weight, trying to drive Zavien off balance again before the staff could fully come around for another hit.
Managing to dodge one, head-on attack shouldn't be anything to be proud of, but managing that against a powerful Attuned who used to be a demigod... Zavien couldn't help the small surge of satisfaction - that was quickly wiped away. He didn't gain as much distance as he would have liked, and contrary to a fight against a rabid dog, Noah had the full capability to strategize.
When the lynx came barreling towards him next, Zavien moved in a similar fashion, ready to bat the creature to the side, but then it was feinting to the side, dodging his attack and putting itself in the perfect path to capitalize on his blind spot. It wasn't long after when he was feeling the impact of a fuzzy paw on the back of his knee. Luckily, Zavien trained too often and too well to be caught with his knees completely locked, but it was enough to disrupt his balance nonetheless, his body rocking forward to keep him from faceplanting in the dirt. Continuing the momentum, he attempted to make distance again, doing his best to swing around and face Noah for any future attacks.
We've been shown how not to live by gracious kings of old
Noah pressed the advantage. He had often used this technique on the tundra when he got a moment of falter from a predator.
The moment Zavien’s balance shifted forward, the lynx moved—fluid, relentless, momentum carrying him in a tight arc around the man’s flank. Dust churned beneath his paws as he pivoted. Zavien was quick, sharper than Noah expected for someone without the instincts of tooth and claw, already trying to recover his footing and swing back around.
Noah didn’t let him.
He lunged again, low and fast, a lunging tawny blur closing the gap before Zavien could fully reorient. His shoulder aimed to hit first this time, a deliberate collision aimed at the man’s midsection to drive him backward.
He didn't have a moment of rest. The moment Zavien was turning, planting his feet in the dirt, the mass of fur and muscle was lunging for him again. It was a ramming of a shoulder that made contact with his abdomen, a soft grunt escaping at the impact. His arms worked down, clasping against the lynx to brace himself as his balance started to give.
Stepping back, he gave a half-roll, half-fall onto the ground. If distance wasn't working, he'd have to try pulling Noah with him. The staff fell from his hands when he tried to grasp for the large cat, knowing he didn't stand much of a chance in a wrestling match, but hoping that having two hands might at least keep him from failing too bad. Zavien shoved and pulled where he could without ripping hair, trying to wrangle Noah into a pin or enough of a submission to escape.
One moment Noah’s shoulder hit solidly, the next the ground rose up beneath him, jarring through muscle and bone. Hands caught at his fur—brief, human contact amid the scuffle—and his instincts surged in answer. Every nerve screamed to twist free, to fight, to remind whatever held him that he was predator-born. The taut energy between them vibrated like a drawn bowstring, each breath heavy with decision. For a heartbeat, the lynx in him demanded dominance, demanded the finish. The man beneath the fur held it in check. It was only the weight of the fact that this was Zavien, his friend (even if the relationship was still new and growing), so he reined himself in with a warrior's control.
The lynx braced, shifting his weight carefully, claws flexing but not striking. He pushed forward, driving down with the weight of his forequarters in an attempt to pin the dragoon down. For a moment, the world shrank to sound. Their ragged breathing, the drum of Noah’s pulse in his ears, the faint creak of leather under pressure. All sounds familiar to the training grounds.
[4/4 - and i made a lynx table just to finish up the thread XD]
One of the worst parts about wrestling was the lack of awareness. In most fights, Zavien could stay vigilant, spotting environment hazards or additional opponents looking to join the fray; but when the world was shrunk down to a single handhold or foot placement, the way his breathing strained or his heart race, the sensation of a lonely rock digging into his spine, it was hard to think beyond that, to think about the big picture. And as his focus narrowed, it turned into a battle of awareness - knowing his own body's location and limitations as much as his opponent's. Unfortunately for Zavien, that was a lynx.
His hands were failing to find purchase, the fur shifting beneath him as Noah twisted and manipulated in his grasp. There was little he could do against the creature, but he tried, nonetheless. Zavien shoved and rotated and did his best to use his larger stature - and yet it did little against the feline. Paws found his chest, pinning it down with a heavy weight that he knew would take time and energy he didn't have to remove - and yet he continued to try. Grunting softly, he gave a finally burst of effort, turning with all his might to throw Noah off him.
We've been shown how not to live by gracious kings of old
Dust surged up in bursts beneath them as Noah and Zavien grappled, a blur of fur and muscle against the solid resistance of Zavien’s body. The man’s grip caught in his ruff, but Noah twisted and pushed and pinned. A primal, guttural growl rumbled from his chest, it was instinct and discipline entwined—wild contained, power measured, a predator restrained by choice alone.
And it was over.
Twisting finally from Zavien, Noah moved away enough to shift back to his human form. He sat in the dirt, knees pulled up slightly to rest his forearms on. ”Well, that was fun.” Noah said, a half-cocked smile crossing over his face as he looked to Zavien, just as dusty and sweaty as he was.
Luckily, Zavien didn't have to struggle for long, Noah stepping back to give him space to put his feet back under him. Dirt clung to the sweat plastered over his bare chest, making his quick breaths more obvious as he groaned, propping his hand on his knee to stand. His laugh was strained but good-natured, the smile wide on his face. "It was. Thanks for the spar."
Stretching his arms, he walked to grab his water, chugging a few gulps to clear the dust from his throat. It cooled the flush of his skin, slowing the adrenaline for him to focus more clearly on Noah and the circumstances of their meeting. He lowered his bottle, giving a short nod of his head as he asked, "You said you were looking for me earlier?" His hand moved up to swipe the wet hair from his forehead, curious what had brought the man looking for him.
We've been shown how not to live by gracious kings of old
Noah smiled, watching Zavien as he recovered from their spar. "I just wanted to say congradulations on your new position. It won't be, and I'm sure it hasn't thus far, been an easy undertaking. But I think you've got the stuff to really turn this city around." There were some before him that had laid the brickwork for the ways of old to change, and for this city to open its arms wide to the world. Zavien could take that and run, and with it he could be a great leader.
After a few more minutes of talking, Noah invited Zavien down for a drink. Meeting him after the Sun's tasks had been completed for the day, they were able to sit and talk.
