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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!
Perhaps the Sword had simply grown up in multiple worlds that had something that threatened everyone’s livelihoods on a mostly daily basis – and found himself involved nearly immediately. He’d never lived in a time and place where one could simply not participate in the antics, mayhem, monsters, and other arranged upheavals. So to gain experience, when and where they could, before mishaps and accidents and tragedies, here they were, maneuvering bits and pieces of perceived threats (wooden shards) around.
Snorting, Deimos tilted his head. “Try the shield again, and concentrate. Do not let the target distract you.” Because then he’d continue facing the same onslaught, with results not differing at all – and he presumed Thorn didn’t want to be bruised and shorn by the makeshift beasts.
So on that note, the Warden re-configured the little portions, utilizing the air to make them slant towards the Abandoned’s knees and shins once more.
Nodding, the courtesan takes a slow and deep inhale, a tattooed hand lifting to brush the back of his arm against his forehead to wipe away any sweat before it can get into his eyes and sting that way. Resettling himself, he takes Deimos’ words to heart, embracing the focus once more until the wind suddenly becomes a shield that seems to coat most portions of his body, though it isn’t something traditional. It isn’t like the one he’d held above his head.
This time, when Deimos’ shards of wood aim for his knees and shins, they’ll make it most of the way until about a few inches away from his skin, in which the moving wind would cause it to stutter and twist, like its getting picked up in a tiny little tornado and avoids his skin entirely. “Like this?” He asks through a gasping breath, panting as he focuses hard.
It was clear Thorn was taking the notions and semblances seriously – which was more than what he could say about some of the individuals who waltzed into the Barracks. Nodding, he watched, eyes narrowed, as the shied maneuvered, trying to brush aside the chunks and pieces of wood. The Abandoned’s perseverance and persistence ended up doing just that, ushering the shards along and away, so he no longer would end up getting nicked and cut by the splintering fragments. “Very good. I know it seems small, but once you practice it more and more,” and thus develop the feel of it, the weight and control and limitations, “You will be able to apply it in many situations.”
From there, he let the broken filaments ease off into the tornado, floating either back into the snow or eventually back into braziers, to be burnt and sent into ash. Noting the sweat coating Thorn’s head, he opted to give the other man a break, or perhaps an out, if it had been enough for today. “You have done quite a bit. Was there anything else you wanted to try?”
The focus had taken much of Thorn’s brain power - enough that Deimos’ compliments feel a little belated as he watches the fragments of the target begin to fall away from the air shield he’d made around his body. Panting lightly, he swipes the back of his hand against his forehead, brushing the sweat against his shirt with a smile aimed at the Warden. “Thanks. It’s nice to get to switch it up now ’n then.” He admits a touch sheepishly.
As for a break? The courtesan latches onto it with a bright smile and a shake of his head to try something else. “Not at the moment that I can think of. Would kill for somethin’ to eat, though.” He admits, nose wrinkling a touch as he looks to Deimos for any kind of hope of food within the Barracks and if not, perhaps a recommendation. It’s been a little while since he’s been in the Citadel, after all.
He snorted at the mention of ‘food’, and the seemingly much needed break for the Abandoned. “We keep some provisions around.” Nothing fancy, but enough to keep the masses fortified throughout the day. From there, Thorn could follow him back through the rest of the barracks, threading between several other soldiers and warriors as they worked in spars or the climbing wall. “And if those do not suit,” because many others didn’t have the same palette, “then I can give you some recommendations nearby.” Granting another slight smile, he led him to the food table, where snacks could be perused, after a good amount of effort extended and hopefully new facets learned.
