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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
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!
At the first promise of light, Melita stretched her determination along with the morning skies, rising with the sun and slipping out of her home, feet marked by the dew along grass and the chill that still remained. If she wasn’t so hellbent on the next few moments, she might have furrowed her brow and been befuddled by the marked, slow awakening of spring. Instead, she pulled her shawl closer and tucked her bag further under her arms, tiptoeing towards the lighthouse, and waiting until Ronin arrived so they could see to the first portions of their mission. “Hey,” she smiled, before they wound their way up stairs and along stairs, until they reached the top of the beacon.
Once she’d known she’d be facing the starry goddess for answers about her own favored patron, the Honeybee had spent days winding her way through the market, striving to find perfected pieces to honor and offer to Safrin. So there amongst the candles and mosaics, she bowed her head, unfurling portions from her satchel to convey to the deity. Initially, she laid down a few pearled combs, wide-toothed to slip in amongst long hair, to bejewel in finery, to a several starry tapestries, depicting Safrin in all her graceful, potent glory. Then, because she couldn’t let the dread or trepidation consume her, heart hammering behind her chest with unease, she unfurled a breath and spoke along the intended purpose – figuring Ronin could fill in any gaps she missed. “Hi Safrin – Mort told me to come see you. Ludo has disappeared, and with your knowledge and power, we’d hoped you might know where it is.”
--
Melita and Ronin are requesting Safrin's presence to find out Ludo's location.
"Hey." Were they not about to pay homage to Safrin and to ask for her assistance, Ronin might have showed up in the oversized hoodie and sweatpants he'd been wearing when he initially realised that apparently Flowerbirth wasn't going to show its face as vibrantly as usual. But he'd soon changed into something more befitting a visit to the lady of the stars; a sky blue shirt embroidered with tiny stars along the cuffs, a pair of darker blue pants and a coat light enough to billow with the breeze but thick enough to stave off the chill.
Following the Honeybee up to the lighthouse shrine, he smiles warmly towards her, as if recognising nerves in a woman who usually throws caution to the wind and calls it good. "It will be alright," he assures her. For his own offerings he sets down a small but painstakingly crafted compact mirror embellished with aquamarine and mother of pearl, along with a bouquet of stargazer lilies.
"Vi mentioned something similar to me, regarding it being missing. Ludo has not been responding to Mort's calls either." With nothing further to add, he settles back on one knee and waits for Safrin's arrival.
The candles dimmed as a seam of darkness opened along the lighthouse wall, not cast by anything within the room but drawn through reality itself. Safrin stepped from it in a spill of midnight silk and starlight, her pale hair drifting behind her as though underwater.
Her gaze passed first over the offerings; the combs and tapestries earned Melita a flicker of approval, while Ronin’s mirror and lilies drew something softer across the goddess’s features. It faded quickly when she looked between them instead. "How unexpected," Safrin murmured, her eyes lingering on the Honeybee before settling on Ronin. Their last conversation had only just managed to find its footing again, and now he was here beside a woman Safrin knew largely as another of Torchline’s bright, reckless residents.
Melita’s flattery helped. The request did not.
"Ludo?" she repeated, one brow rising as she lightly touched one of the pearled combs. "Perhaps it is hiding somewhere. Perhaps it was mistaken as washing rags and was tossed into a stream. Or perhaps it ate too much candy and fell asleep beneath somebody’s bed." Straightening, Safrin’s gaze narrowed slightly between them, offended less by the question itself than by the implication that Ludo’s whereabouts belonged to her concern. "Why," she asked softly, "should I care that it is missing?"
Melita gave a sharp intake of breath at Safrin’s appearance – mostly due to her uncle’s shortcomings, a thousand stories of the goddess, and the potential of other fault lines – though that the deity gave her any time of day might have been promising.
Except for when the request was denied, rapidly. She was sorely tempted to shoot Ronin an ‘I told you so’ look with sharp, narrowed eyes, but she did nothing of the sort. Holding back those impulsive tendencies, she clenched her fingers tightly against her palm instead. From Safrin’s perspective, she could understand it. Who wouldn’t want to gloat in glory over their rival’s disappearance? On a pettiness scale, it’d rank high in the Honeybee’s books. If it was lording over anything or anyone else, she might’ve applauded it.
Except this was for Ludo, and her loyalty could draw her away from the measures of spite and who’d done the most antagonizing, and down to the annals of her growing concerns. Whether or not that would appeal to Safrin was the largest gamble, and she’d have to preemptively give credit to Ronin if he could find a way – Melita was going out on a limb, hastening over branches and not looking where she was going, trying to reach past broken boughs. “If it has disappeared due to something going on, I worry others might fall prey to the same.” Such as more deities - including Safrin herself, who’d been on the receiving end of several horrific plotlines before. If there was something out there that could take down a god..or at the very least, make them vanish...then perhaps they were dealing with another massive threat to Caido.
Shell fragments click against one another within its body. Splintered sticks jut out at uneven angles, some polished smooth by salt or wind, others hooked and sharp. The bones woven through its centre are similarly weathered, though not all of them look as though they belonged to small creatures. Beneath the shifting sand, its limbs remain tightly coiled. A sudden roll sends shells and bone fragments skittering in its wake; when its branches open, they move like a living trap made from every hard, sharp thing the shore or desert has discarded.
You've encountered a Tangleweed Variant
Tangleweed
Areas Found: Hollowed Grounds, King's End, Hak Etme — Common
Appearing like nothing more than an amalgamation of sticks, the Tangleweed is actually an arguably sentient creature. For the most part it appears spherical in nature, keeping its many limbs tightly pulled against itself to form a round shape. It moves as if blown by the wind, suddenly rolling forward on the hard packed earth and then stopping just as suddenly. Having almost no natural predators, these creatures are found in great numbers especially along large, flat areas. It is often impossible to tell if a Tangleweed is dead or alive unless they are touched. If interacted with, the branch-like limbs will lash out and close quickly on whatever they can grasp, at which point a poison is released which causes the skin to numb. Then, quite like other species of carnivorous plants, the Tangleweed slowly begins to digest its prey.
Challenge Rating: Easy
HP: 30 | To Hit: 2 | Dmg: 14 Movement: Roll 20 ft.; Lurch 10 ft. (limb-propelled); Creep 5 ft. (against wind)
SPECIAL SKILLS
Lash & Latch: branch-like limbs whip out and close quickly and effectively on anything they can grasp; Numbing Poison: contact venom causes skin to go numb where seized; Slow Digestion: like other carnivorous plants, it digests prey over time once secured; Grip Net: multiple limbs interlace into a living snare that tightens with struggle
TRAITS
Stick Camouflage: looks like an ordinary tumble of twigs and branches; Spherical Compact: limbs tuck tight to form a rolling, round body; Wind-Feign Locomotion: advances in sudden windlike rolls, then freezes; Dormant Deception: impossible to tell alive from dead until touched; Field Congregation: commonly accumulates in large, flat areas; Few Predators: little in the wild bothers a tangleweed’s dry, woody mass
ACTIONS
Sudden Roll: bursts forward in a short, windlike tumble to collide with a target; Limb Lash: snaps out hooked twigs to seize wrists, ankles, or gear; Numbing Seep: exudes the numbing toxin along gripping limbs to deaden sensation and resistance; Enfold & Digest: wraps prey into its core and begins a slow digestive process
The tangleweed is a brief but unimportant distraction, the distant sound of its shells and other debris clacking together outside the lighthouse, and Ronin dismisses it immediately with Safrin's arrival. The world parts into the cosmos like a knife through silk, and he watches the lady of the stars step into their presence with a mix of relief and the sort of respect that has been earned across years and in no small number of ways.
"Thank you for coming to see us," he says first and foremost. "And of course - we don't expect you to carry a personal concern over Ludo, not when it so often makes a mockery of your work. But as Melita says, if this is a sign of something bigger happening - especially given that it is not responding to Mort either..." He shrugs.
"Any information might help Melita to continue the search, even something as trivial as its last known whereabouts. And in the event that it has gotten itself into some trouble, your help would put it squarely in your debt in future."
Melita’s warning earned a small lift of Safrin’s chin, the goddess’s expression remaining serenely unconvinced. "Well," she said, smoothing one hand down the fall of midnight fabric at her hip, "then I suppose I should thank you for the warning."
Her gaze slid back to Ronin as he continued, and there—at the prospect of Ludo owing her something—her attention caught properly. Safrin’s eyes narrowed just slightly, not in displeasure this time but consideration. "Is anyone truly surprised that Ludo isn’t heeding Mort’s calls?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest with a faintly petulant air. "It is rather known for not listening." A core trait, some might even say.
Still, she straightened, thoughtful now despite herself. "It did come to bother me not so long ago. At the end of Leafchange, I think." Her nose wrinkled delicately. "It wanted me to come with it to the jungle, and said something about the Dreamwalker." Safrin raised her brows, her disbelief turning almost pointed. "But the Dreamwalker was killed, what, four years ago now?" A soft tut left her, followed by a slow shake of her head. "So obviously I knew it was a trap. It is probably still there, sulking because I didn’t indulge it."
Ronin was far better than her at this, and she’d have to thank him later – for now though, she kept her head down, listening. No, perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised about Ludo not listening; but given Mort’s concern, this seemed to be something out of the ordinary. Enough to start raising the alarms. As well as the random appearance of the tumbleweed, but she let that go for now.
She perked up at the notions of Ludo coming to Safrin – eyes widening as more information passed through, matching with timelines, the location sealed in her mind. The Honeybee hadn’t held the distinction of the Dreamwalker, but the press of jungles, nightmares, and the inevitable that had occurred recently in the Oerwoud gave her pause, enough to swallow down her discomfort. The potential connections, something else rising from the grave, or at least, the similarities beginning to juxtaposition or run parallel. “Is there a chance the Dreamwalker returned?” Her gaze swung from Ronin, then back to Safrin, mind racing. “We had a weird incident in the Peepholes, with dreams and things. I have a bag of sand from it.” And perhaps, from that, she might be able to show the occurrence – though, even in that, she wasn’t wholly certain.
Ronin manages to stifle his wince out of practice more than anything else; suggesting that Safrin might need a warning in the first place is the sort of thing to rankle a goddess's pride, but thankfully it passes quickly enough. Flashing a quick smile across at Mel, he returns his attention to the lady of the stars and the information, sudden and immediately familiar given the events in the Oerwoud as of late, that she shares with them.
"Even if it has returned, that's probably better left for us to find out on our own," he says, knowing better than to bother Safrin with something that neither concerns nor bothers her. "The bag of sand is interesting, though. Kai got something similar from a creature up in Hak Etme - it allowed him to share dreams with another person." Which is not dissimilar to a magic Remi once possessed by virtue of being Ludo's demigod, as they're all surely aware.
"If it is sulking in the Oerwoud, though, that's a good place to start." He lifts his gaze to Safrin once again, relieved to have more of a direction. "Thank you again," he says. "Coming to you has been more helpful even than asking Vi and Mort - though we should hardly be surprised by that."
Safrin’s gaze shifted between them, the mention of the Dreamwalker potentially being alive doing little to draw alarm from her. "Alas, most of those who were there when the creature was slain are dead now," she said with a small shrug. "Though I believe its antlers were once sold by the Merchant’s Guild. Perhaps they might be useful, if you are determined to go digging through old nightmares."
At the mention of the sand, Safrin’s expression sharpened with a delicate sort of vindication, as though Ronin had only confirmed what ought to have been obvious from the start. "Bags of dreamsand?" she repeated, one brow lifting. "That certainly sounds like Ludo to me."
Her attention settled on Ronin as his praise followed, and whether it was genuine, strategic, or both, it struck its mark all the same. The cool edge of her expression softened, vanity and satisfaction smoothing away the last of her irritation as she inclined her head to him, then to Melita. "See that you are careful in the jungle," she said, the warning light enough to be dismissed and sharp enough not to be ignored. "I would hate for all of this concern to have been wasted." With that, the starlight around her folded inward. One moment Safrin stood before them in midnight silk and luminous beauty; the next, she was gone, leaving only the candles trembling in her wake.
Melita noted the very quick way she’d fucked up the moment Ronin seemed to be trying to tug her out of the vicinity by words alone. Her brows furrowed at first, confused, when she realized that was all the information they’d be receiving, for, as Safrin put it, she didn’t care. And perhaps that was the finality of so many things – just because the Honeybee craved to find and tear her way through the jungle, didn’t mean anyone else would want to.
Choking that down, she nodded, listening. Her prostration hadn’t been enough though, she could feel it in the way trepidation wore down her smile, in the warnings Safrin extended. “Thank you.” And to show she’d learned, she took another deep breath. “You’ve been very helpful. I won’t take it for granted.” Whether or not that meant inevitable clashes with such sagacity, remained to be seen. But she had information now, and presently that was enough.
As Safrin disappeared, her cheeks puffed out, and she released another sigh, churning another grin for Ronin. “Thanks. I don’t think I would’ve made it without you.” Which to be fair, was true, given he’d revived her once. “We can head out and I’ll let people know.” From there though, the uncertainty weighed heavy…tripping back over her limbs as they scaled lighthouse stairs and back out into the morning light.
