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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!
She steps out of the tunnels onto the flat rock outside. The volcanic lightning is still raging in the sky, illuminating the space between the clouds in a purplish light that battles for dominance against the black, reds, and oranges of the Climb. It's a loud battle that snaps and cracks over the low bubbling of molten lava, electric energy permeating the air.
Thal pauses to watch it, her damp hair already beginning to dry in the heat. She raises her eyes when another bolt strikes and splinters in every direction, not looking at Colt when she reveals the boring truth of her last apology in a bland tone. "When I was still infected and very much mourning the loss of that asshole, I was unbearable to be around and I said some things that hurt Danta's feelings." The rancher will remember her extra cold and bitchy attitude at that same festival.
She's a heartbreak coming in cold Trainwreck in a red dress
The wave of fresh air that hits her the moment she steps out into the full space of the Climb feels like breaking beneath a wave. The change is tangible as they depart the curling heat of Frey's Breath, and though the trek from its depths back to the surface meant the air changed as they went, it's the full brunt of this outside openness and the storm wind that really feels like being able to breathe again. It's worth noting that this is still The Climb, coiling with lava, even in Deepfrost. It's by no means the same effect as opening the freezer door on a hot day, but it is a welcome change of heat after spending too long simmering in the chest of her god.
Overhead, the night carries on, split apart by the lightning they originally fled from. Colt glances up at it, squinting as she tries to gauge if the worst of it has passed their direct vicinity now or not. They could always shelter just within the outcrop of rock if need be. "Y'don't say?" Colt ventures a glance towards Thal as she stretches out the little tale of her own apology. "Here I thought that was you on a good day."
She does well remember her first encounter with Peach. Hell, it'd gone so well, Colt prepped herself for a brawl. "So where's my apology then?" Colt teases with a slanted grin, hands fitting to her hips in mock expectation. The ruse dies quickly, not trying to prod an actual sour mood from the ancient. She knows too well how it feels to admit to the vulnerable parts of yourself. "Can't say I know him too well," Colt murmurs, recognizing the Theocrat's name but little more. "You two patched it up fine?" A success story, proof it could be done, but she reckons Danta is no Flora.
She's a neon nightmare Lookin' for a tab to put some trouble on ice
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Thal laughs, fangs flashing in another bolt of lightning. "During that time? It was." Considering her first day without Pierce had been spent wandering broken through the forest in her tiger shift, attending a festival was practically cheerful for her.
Content to let the hot breeze dry her skin while she watches the light show, she stuffs her hands in her pockets. Her eyes are glued to the violent display of energy cutting through the air, only slipping away for a moment to see Colt's prideful stance. She scoffs, shaking her head to dismiss the playful tease. "I doubt anything I said that night hurt your feelings." And if Colt insists that it did, well, Thal might consider making it up to her.
The plume of blackened smoke and ash disguises the lightning for a moment before it arcs from one end to the other, thunder rumbling loud enough to keep her silent for a moment, tilting her head to hear what Colt says next. "Oh yeah. We're good now. Once Asta cured me, I owned up to what was going on and made sure he knew where I stood with his fiance. I wouldn't say we're buddy buddy, but I'd call him a friend." She flashes the rancher a smug grin, letting the truth sit between them as she turns to analyze the storm traveling across the horizon, appearing to dissipate along with the thinning cloud of debris.
She's a heartbreak coming in cold Trainwreck in a red dress
Letting the sarcasm cleave away with the next branching of volcanic lightning in their setting, Colt doesn't pursue it further. No, it had not hurt her feelings, although Thal had certainly made it easier to fight her than to befriend her then. Although honestly, sometimes they're one and the same feeling.
As Thal's tale winds down with very little spectacular show or process, Colt shrugs a little. "It's funny, isn't it," she begins, using a tone that suggests there's very little amusement to be found at all. "Talking with each other ends up being one of the hardest things we do, despite sharing the same language." Slights accidentally made with far too much ease, guards broken or put up with a few simple words, friendships forged and ruined with a turn of phrase.
"Sometimes it's what makes the dogs and the horses so much easier to bear," she sighs, the sound faintly wistful and a touch tired. She has missed the simplicity of her working ranch as of late, especially after becoming embroiled in a political mess.
She's a neon nightmare Lookin' for a tab to put some trouble on ice
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Two blazing shapes streak across the sky, spiralling around one another in a fast, aggressive dance. A pair of Cinderscourge chase each other through the air, trails of sparks flaring in their wake.
They wheel sharply, diving and climbing in tight arcs, embers raining down as they pass.
Whether this is play or conflict is unclear — only that getting too close would be dangerous either way.
Cinderscourge
Areas Found: The Climb — Uncommon
These large raptors are hypercarnivores, known for their speed and savagery. Able to pick up prey such as pyrinas, they tend to drop them from fatal heights as a method of killing their prey. Don't be fooled, their beaks and talons are just as deadly, but these birds famously are clever and rarely expend energy when they don't have to.
Challenge Rating: Moderate
HP: 431 | To Hit: +50 | Dmg: 19 Movement: Fly 80 ft.; Walk 20 ft.
SPECIAL SKILLS
Fatal Drop: lifts prey aloft and releases it from lethal heights to conserve energy; Crushing Grip: talons lock around victims with vise-like strength for carry and control; Energy Efficient Hunter: disengages from chases that waste effort, circling back for better odds
TRAITS
Thermal Rider: soars for hours on hot updrafts with minimal effort; Ash Camouflage: plumage blends into basalt, ash, and smoke; Keen Sight: spots movement from extreme distance even through heat shimmer; Heat Tolerant: unbothered by the Climb’s scorching air and ashfall
ACTIONS
Swoop & Snatch: dives at speed to seize a target in its talons; Talon Rend: slashes with hooked claws to maim and unbalance; Beak Strike: a precise, armour-piercing jab aimed at exposed spots; Death-Drop: carries a grappled foe skyward and releases it over rocks or lava
Colt will find no argument from her. Thal's eyes are fixed on the horizon, recalling how she'd rather face a deadly ursur a thousand times than admit when she's wrong or have a difficult conversation. The fact that she's often felt dismissed or misunderstood only makes it worse, and as another bolt of lightning snaps across the sky, she gives a telling shrug of her shoulders. "But words are rarely enough on their own." What is it people say? Actions speak louder than words?
Chuckling softly at the company of animals over people, she adds, "Talking to people is good in small doses, but the open ocean is a much better companion." The whispers of the breeze, the conversation between water and hull, the silent rumble of storms on the horizon. Thal would take a day at sea over awkward niceties any day. There are few people she enjoys as much as that feeling.
As her eyes turn back to the storm of ash and lightning, two glowing figures twist and dive through the sky in a brilliant dance of flames. They cast sparks of their own, the purple light of the clouds competing with the orange fire of their wings so that they're outlined and illuminated by the weather. It's a beautiful, fearless display, violent and daring.
"That's not something you see every day." Thal smiles at the demonstration, preferring to think it's a lover's quarrel, full of passion and fiery emotions that rival the electricity surrounding them. She's not a romantic by any means, but if she were to find someone, Thal might hope they had the same intensity as two cinderscourges in a volcanic lightning storm, their cries echoing the crackle of lightning.
She's a heartbreak coming in cold Trainwreck in a red dress
Given that her own predicament is related to words poorly placed and exchanged, and that Thal has suffered the same, it's no surprise to find the ancient on her side in this matter. Colt would never truly do without conversation, much as she might try to claim otherwise, but certainly sometimes the ability to just 'speak' with a look or a gesture is appreciated. With no voice to give each other, it's all she has with the dogs and horses, and sometimes it feels like a fresh breath, resettling all the troubles words have otherwise caused.
"Mm, ain't that the truth," Colt murmurs in agreement, much more prone to trusting what someone does than what someone says, even when what they say is nice, maybe even especially then. At the ocean though she makes a faint face, the streak of disagreement, although it's only personal. "To each their own," she suggests with a faint smile, glancing from the lightning storm to the sailor. "You can keep talking to the sea, I'll stick with my packs and herds." As if there was any risk of otherwise.
She drops the theoretical expanse of it all as the shapes of the cinderscourges winging through the storm snares both their attention. Colt watches it in silence for a moment, caught by the immediate beauty of something so fierce and wild existing alongside them, daring to show itself so plainly when normally it'd require a keen eye. A reminder that even in the hellish setting of the Climb, where heat and lava and lightning appear to be all there is for the world, things find a way to survive. Where Thal sees romance, Colt sees encouragement. She's in a storm of her at the moment, but maybe she can fly just as gracefully out of it.
"No, you don't," Colt murmurs, a touch of awe creeping into her tone as her gaze trails after them. "Maybe we just sit here a while and see what else there is to watch?" she suggests, all the talk of preferring dogs and horses when she suddenly doesn't feel like parting from a friends side to trudge through the expanse of wilderness amid stormlight. "Temperature's not bad here," she grins.
She's a neon nightmare Lookin' for a tab to put some trouble on ice
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Catching the faint whisp of disagreement without needing to look at the woman, Thal lets out a small chuckle, continuing to watch the lightning snap and arc across the sky. She glances once at Colt, sharing in the smile of a conversation they've had too many times. They might never see eye to eye on ranches versus ships, but Thal can respect a woman who knows what she likes, and she settles for echoing the sentiment, humor written across her face. "To each their own."
Then the twisting dance of the two cinderscourges draws their attention, and Thal falls silent, reverent in the display. It's nice to know she's not the only one in awe, a chill running down her spine as she appreciates the power and fearlessness, weaving through lightning bolts and flaming wings. There's no disagreement this time, her eyes captivated as she responds in a distracted tone, "I wouldn't mind." Placing her hands in her pockets, she falls on her heels, a silent smile rising at Colt's grin, not commenting this time on her unwillingness to carry the rancher's prone form if she faints. Rather, she sinks into the quiet, soaking in the sweep of wings outlined by purple electricity, in no hurry to look anywhere else.
