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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!
With Hadama and Flora helping to coordinate and guide the ships down from Stormbreak, welcoming the many refugees to the region and assisting them wherever possible, Ronin makes himself useful in a more practical sense. He helps to tether the ships to their moorings, assists in carrying belongings, helping people down the gangplanks and directing them to where they can rest or find medical help or shelter.
Despite the darkness, Torchline glitters with dozens of lights, and Ronin counts himself among them. With adrenaline running high and his senses sharp for any retaliation on the horizon, radiant light all but gleams out of him, making him a warmly lit beacon for anyone who needs to find him. Calling across the port for assistance with a large family - one of whom is carrying a child with what looks like a broken arm - he leads them further out from the crowds where they can be tended to with healing water, and then returns to the ships for the next round of organised chaos.
It's an old role he falls into, one that feels simultaneously comfortable and dissonant. Because he shouldn't be at ease with this level of disorder and panic. War and its consequences shouldn't be his easiest state of mind. And yet, here they are.
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
He joins the last boat out of Stormbreak, traveling with this group bound for Torchline to ensure the proceedings are going as well as they can hope. Koa is still doing a final sweep and will meet him later in King’s End, but for now, Kaisel is anxious to confirm the civilians they directed to safety are managing. He fights the numbness creeping in. He forces himself to see the clouds the skyship cuts through, not the rubble left behind, not the dust clouds rising like smoke.
When the vessel finally docks, the jolt of it rattles him out of the spiral. He blinks, breathes, glances around. Faces meet him—terrified, tear-streaked, dazed. Some are bloodied. All of them are dust-covered and hollow-eyed with the realization that it wasn’t just the tower that fell. It was everything. Their homes. Their safety. The shape of their lives. All of it, torn away by a monster pretending to be merciful.
Kaisel swings down onto the dock, moving to help. He passes family members into one another’s arms, watches over tiny piles of belongings—each a heartbreaking echo of a life left behind. With each handoff, something drains from him. Not strength. Hope.
At last, he’s left with an elderly woman and her bundle of leashes—an impossibly tangled mess of cords ending in a dozen snarling mouths. Tiny dogs, each more determined than the last to prove they’re the fiercest beast. Kaisel’s eyebrows lift in tired alarm just as she thrusts the leash at him like a curse. He catches it—and the dogs erupt.
They explode in a cyclone of yapping fury, teeth flashing as they spin around his legs in a rabid carousel. He yelps, stumbling backward, trying not to fall overboard as the chaos drags him in. The woman follows, shrieking a litany of wildly specific threats, accusations, and warnings about her precious angel babies, and how he better not drop a single one or she’ll bury him in the sand herself.
Every move he makes to untangle the leash makes it worse. He’s helpless. Flailing. Being eaten alive by two-pound terrors. His gaze whips down the dock, desperate, searching—and then he spots a familiar face amid the crowd. "Ronin!" he calls, his voice cracking with a desperation far greater than he'd like given the situation.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
Ronin's head snaps up at the sound of his name, the Knight having just been setting down a large suitcase of belongings that have clearly been stuffed inside in panic, the sleeve of a shirt trailing out of the case as he adjusts it. Spotting the young dragoon across the dock - and the old lady, and the snapping, barking eruption of tiny dogs, Kaisel will need to forgive him for a second for blinking dumbly at the sight, before he shakes it away and sets off over the boardwalk.
"Kaisel, right?" he calls as he gets close enough, offering a polite nod in response to the truly withering glare from the old lady as she continues to shriek complaints and orders about her little preciouses. "Here, let me... uh..." Reaching out to grab hold of the mass of tangled leash handles, impossible to untie, he steps back to lead the furry terrors further away from the open water. Trusting his fellow dragoon to take care of the drago-- er, old woman, Ronin is left with far too many dogs and one clumped leash.
"I'm gonna have to cut these," he tells them apologetically. "I'll flag down a cart to get a ride further into the city. The lady and the pups can go together."
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
"Yeah," he says, breathless with the constant tension of near-misses as teeth flash around him. He doesn't know what precisely he wants Ronin to help with, just—help. So when the White Knight offers to take over, Kaisel is more than happy to pass off the reins.
He thrusts the bouquet of leather and tiny ferocity into the man's hands, a massive sigh of relief leaving him, as if an unbearable weight existed between the stitching of those leashes. Unfortunately, the job isn't over, something he’s sorely reminded of when the furious grandma wallops him upside the head with her bag in a surprise thwap. He ducks a second swing, one eye scrunched as he rubs the soon-to-be bruise and tries to fend off her next assault. "Ma'am, please, we're going to get you all situat—" he ducks again and finally manages to wrest the bag from her with a hiss. "Here, let me help you. That seems awfully heavy."
They trundle after Ronin and the myriad of monsters disguised as adorable little pups, Kaisel guiding the feisty grandmother with an arm over her shoulders—mostly to keep her from hip-checking him into the sea. "Good idea," he calls out, wondering if he ought to gift the cart driver with some forewarning or send them off and hope for the best.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
Holding the bundle of knotted leather at the end of the many, many leashes, Ronin can only watch in mild awe and horror at the old lady's hella aim assault, and he winces on Kaisel's behalf and wonders whether he hasn't actually got the easier job with the snapping little beasts. Beasts which blessedly, seem to calm down one miniscule fraction as they get away from the ship and the immediate dock area, Ronin looking up to whistle for one of the carts standing by. The driver, spotting them struggling, starts to jog over to help.
"Welcome to Torchline," the Knight says amicably enough to the old lady, even as he kneels and slips the axe from the loop at his belt, laying out the cluster of knots and pinning down the rest of the leashes with his foot. Some of the dogs are trying to chew his boot, another is deciding whether or not to cock its leg against his hip, and a few are actually just sniffing about. Ronin decides he likes those ones the best.
A quick thock into the boardwalk and the knot has been separated from the spidering lengths of leather, the Knight briefly feeling like he's got hold of a bunch of balloons he really doesn't want. "Alright," he says, feigning lightness in his tone. "I'll tie a new handle into each leash and pass these little darlings to the cart one at a time. You mind helping our newest citizen up to her seat, Kaisel?"
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
She has the audacity to smile back at Ronin, all gums save for a few teeth set catty-corner from each other. She drawls some warm appreciation to him, charmed either because he's part of Torchline and she wants to be on her best behavior, or simply because Ronin isn’t him and is therefore automatically better. As if the chaos of her hounds is somehow his fault. Kaisel holds back a scoff as he guides the woman into the cart, one arm held out for balance, the other bracing beneath hers. She seems to wave him off at the end, and when she takes the bag from him, she manages to jostle it enough that it catches under his jaw one last time.
Tonguing the precursor of a fat lip, Kaisel winces and steps back with a sigh. He glances sidelong at the severed leashes and has half a mind to tell Ronin to just drop them and run. Except he's certain that'd inspire the mutts to give chase, and you should never start a chase if you're the slowest one. So instead, begrudgingly—because it’s his job, and he cares about his town’s people or some shit that felt a lot more noble when it didn’t involve waspish women and their buzzing mutts—he extends a hand to help Ronin lift the dogs to her.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
Ronin gives a polite smile back to the old lady that's well on its way to a wince by the time he sees her clock Kaisel - quite artfully, if he's honest - with her oversized purse, the Knight quickly turning his attention back to her pooches as if to speed this whole thing along. Keeping the bundle of leashes pinned under the sole of his foot, he teases them out one at a time, ties a quick new loop to act as a handle, and then locates the attached dog to pass it up to Kaisel.
It's not a quick process, but the cart driver soon steps in to help as well, and before too long has passed, the lady and her mutts are all bundled up and barking and about to become not their problem anymore. Ronin sees them off with a cheerful wave and an expression that's got too much raised eyebrows to be truly positive, and he lets out a low whistle and turns back to the dragoon to clap him warmly on the shoulder.
"That wasn't an easy one. Nicely done, though," he says with a nod. "You came from Stormbreak, right? Do you think any more ships are coming down, or is this it?"
06-06-2025, 10:00 PM (This post was last modified: 06-06-2025, 10:00 PM by Kaisel.)
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
He can’t pass the little mongrels off fast enough. It turns into a game of hot potato, each leash thrust into her arms quick enough to keep her too busy to fuss or fiddle. The dogs, accustomed to crowding around her and each other, settle well enough now that they have some wiggle room. When it’s finally over, Kaisel wipes his hands on his pants with exaggerated finality, huffing out a long sigh as he sends her off with a curt little wave.
He glances over at Ronin with a lopsided, worn smile at the compliment. "Thanks for your help. I'm more of a cat dad," he says, rubbing at the spot under his jaw with a rueful twist of his mouth. "Yeah, I am. That was the last ship." Now that all the chaos has passed, his legs feel unsteady, and he quickly reaches for something solid—finding a post along the walkway to sag against.
"It wasn’t as bad as last time," he mutters. "Less dead, from what we can tell. Just... all homeless." He frowns, rubbing the side of his tired face. "Wish I’d finished my quest with Safrin. Could’ve had something useful to wield against them, then." Rationality left a while ago. Now he’s just stewing—nursing some half-formed, ill-advised desire for vengeance, to hurt them back.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
"I'm more of a dog person," Ronin says conversationally, wrinkling his nose in the direction of the departing cart, "but between you and me, I'd make an exception for that tornado of little teeth. Still... at least they all made it down here okay." Huffing out a long sigh, he turns away from the beach and back towards the docks, nodding relief and understanding to hear that the last of the ships has arrived. Spotting Kaisel sag against a nearby post, Ronin nods towards one of the low walls. "C'mon," he invites. "Let's sit for a few minutes."
Stepping to the wall and sinking down onto it to watch the streams of people continue to file out from the boats, the Knight's expression grows more solemn as his fellow dragoon gives a status report of the situation up at Stormbreak. "Homeless... but alive," he forces himself to say. "And hopefully only the former for a short period of time. What was your quest from Safrin, if you don't mind my asking?"
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
He might normally have waved off Ronin's invitation, boasting that he'd be fine, just needs a minute. He doesn't have it in him to pretend he's that strong though, it's just enough work to stay this held together, so what's accepting a seat wall among fighting off ugly sobbing and pancaking onto the ground in despair? So he just silently nods and follows after Ronin, hoping his steps look as steady as he's willing them to be. He eases onto the stone ledge with a huff, shoulders curling in as his hands fold in his lap—one flexing and unflexing with a spiteful energy to burn, but no place to put it.
He glances over to the White Knight, a bitter pull dragging down his expression. "A short while? Not unless we defeat the Family. They won't let us back in anytime soon, not without being their friend." An involuntary shudder courses through him at that notion, and his jaw flexes with the pain of leaving Noe behind there, because she is—a friend of the family. "Could be years, given how long it's already been." Saying it out loud hits him hard. Years they've been living under the Family's boot. How the fuck did it get to this point?
Suddenly his silly little weapon from Safrin, at least when held in his weak hands, doesn't seem like the beacon of hope for him it felt like just moments ago. The reality is, they're all too powerless. "Oh, I asked her for an air blade, some knuckle-knives so I could punch back if needed." He glances down. "Maybe I should give them to someone stronger though." He sighs, hanging legs kicking faintly against the wall. "I'm almost done, just had to do a few things like protect someone, find something, practice fighting a bit...I just need to go talk to her again honestly." His gaze is distant, seeing thoughts and memories more than the town along the sea. "Kinda scared to talk to her alone without my cousin Koa though. She likes him, I dunno where I stand with her yet." Kaisel doesn't normally prefer to admit to weaknesses, but the Family and the gods both are entities he thinks everyone should have a bit of fear for, so it's less like an admittance, than just a well-known truth.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
"It won't be years." Ronin's voice is flatter than he would like, lined with quiet steel that's echoed in his gaze as he stares out at the water. "I've been out of this fight for a long time, thanks to the Family and their threats. But I don't plan for it to be that way much longer, no matter what it takes." Absently cracking the knuckles of one hand, the Knight inhales a long, deep breath and huffs it out again, forcing away some of the tension that is perpetually gathered in his shoulders.
"Things are coming to a head with the sort of shit Dahlia has just pulled. I hate to say it, but I don't foresee it taking much longer before we're in open conflict - if we aren't already." As a pool party in the very near future is about to demonstrate quite wonderfully.
As conversation turns to Safrin, Ronin tilts his head towards Kaisel and listens - properly listens - and lets a smile kick up one side of his mouth. "Keep them for yourself," he says gently. "You're a helluva lot stronger than you give yourself credit. Look at what you've achieved here, how many people who might have been hurt or worse without you getting them to Torchline. And take it from me - a healthy fear of Safrin is no bad thing, and neither is being happily forgotten by her. Sometimes her attention is more trouble than it's worth."
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
Ronin’s reassurance earns a quiet glance from Kaisel. He doesn’t know the man well—just some of his labels: Flora’s dad, Dragoon, White Knight. He’s heard some of the stories, though. Knows he’s sitting beside someone who’s stood against the world more than once. But is one legend—or even two—really enough to turn the tide? If so, what a weight to carry around—and all the guilt for the time they didn't. As much as Kaisel has dreamed of his name etched in stone, his figure molded in bronze, the reality of being a hero doesn’t seem half as glamorous. He doesn't envy Ronin right now, can barely believe him even.
"Maybe that's for the best," Kaisel says with the ignorance of one who has never truly fought. His lack of practice in such conflict though is replaced with the lived experience of being directly under the enemy's thumb, coming of age in a city locked in stiff violence that paraded as smiles amid whispers about gardens. "I think I’d rather die trying than keep abiding their reign. We keep pretending that if we listen, they’ll play along... but they’ve got the power to break us. They’re just deciding when it’s worth it." When it'll give them the most satisfaction, when it'll do the most harm.
It's not so simple, of course. No point in dashing yourself against rocks just to prove you bleed. They’ve been fighting—quietly, in whatever ways they can—but this latest attack just reveals how little headway they’ve made. That truth sits like gasoline in his mouth.
Kaisel presses a thumb against his knuckles, trying to quiet the restlessness with pressure. He rubs the anxious energy into the joints until it fades to a dull ache. "Thanks," he says softly, doing his best to trust the warrior's input on this matter. Kaisel glances up at the back and forth of wagons and people, at the full harbor of skyships, and can't help but feel like he'll just be right back here, ushering out more people into a different city with all the strength he has. Maybe that's not nothing, but it's not the job he'd prefer, not the job he'd want for anyone. He exhales steadily though, because he can only do his best, and each day try to move that forward to something better.
He cracks a faint grin, crooked but genuine as he glances at Ronin, a touch lighter. "I feel like that's the truth for most gods, and women."
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
"Mm, maybe," Ronin agrees softly, though with a great deal more weariness at the prospect. "It would force an end, but you never know what you're going to lose until it's gone at times like this." A relic. A daughter. A home. He does, at least, agree wholeheartedly with the boy's refusal to continue living under The Family's thumb, and the smile he casts his way is small and determined. "Keep that grit, even if it only feels like you can use it in small ways right now. It all adds up - it did for me, anyway. I was standing in your shoes once."
Reaching out to gently clap Kaisel on the shoulder, Ronin squeezes it warmly before he takes a long breath in and hauls himself back to his feet. He doesn't expect the quip in response to his warning about Safrin, and it startles a laugh out of him, the Knight inclining his head in a nod. "Truer words have never been spoken. Come on - if that was the last ship down, then I think that means I have a duty to you to welcome you to Torchline, and get you some food and a strong drink."
// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
The words of advice and recommendation of perseverance settle with a glow inside Kaisel. Not so bright it overwhelms the darker edges—just enough to shine in spite of them, to restore some vigor to the parts of him labeled ‘hope’. He knows this truth already, of course. No one is born mighty—talent is arguably just determination and practice. It's nice to hear it once in a while though, especially from the source. Some days it feels like all he does is climb, reaching out for another handhold against the mountain of life, until his arms shake and his head spins. He forgets to look back and see just how far he's made it, too focused on the endless rise still ahead.
He feels boyish beneath the weight of Ronin’s grip and the warmth of shared humor, his grin widening like he’s finally remembered how. "That's the best idea I've heard today," Kaisel chirps, refreshed enough to jump back to his feet and fall into step alongside the White Knight, subsiding to chatter of good food and just how many of the tall tales he's heard are true.
[FIN]
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
