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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!
Scoffing and reminding himself to ice his jaw later on today lest it bruise in the shape of Hadama's knuckles, Ronin refocuses on the fight and where his own fists might yet land. Tripping the other man seems to have been a good idea, and though he's a touch surprised by it, the memory of the former mermanta soon puts him in his face. He's thankfully quick enough this time not to get a second smack to the face, but the Tidebreaker's elbow does catch him in the shoulder and sends him hopping back.
Perhaps next time we should focus on our footwork, he suggests; it's true that, all in all, Hadama has been the more static opponent in their spar, with Ronin dancing around him and retreating again. Raising his fists a final time with that in mind, he nods to the other man, as if to invite him to go on the offensive this time.
It would be welcome, the former-mer agreed, still with that rueful hint of amusement in the Bond that belied the look of stoic concentration on his face. For myself, it is much needed. If they were in the water things would, he hoped, be slightly more in his favor, but it seemed unlikely that many opponents would be willing to meet him there. Learning the secrets of balance and footwork was a matter of practice and repetition, whether with Koa, Flora, Maea, or Ronin. And the more often, the better.
When Ronin offered him the offensive Hadama tilted his head in appreciation of the gesture.
And then stepped forward, straight and sinking onto his front foot as he jabbed towards the White Knight's nose, swift and deceptive. The feint covered his left hand hooking around and up to punch Ronin in the short ribs. It was a move similar to the one that the his opponent had opened with, and Hadama was not above using his reputation as a straightforward old fuddy duddy to hide a secondary attack.
Name the time and place and I'll be there. Always happy to help. And he always would be, if the trajectory of his life so far is anything to say about it. Ronin finds himself returning to barracks and training grounds no matter how much he tries to abandon that sort of role; these days he's learning to embrace it, and as Hadama is teaching him, you can never know everything.
Automatically bracing as the other man darts forward, Ronin's hand is already coming up readily to catch the fist aiming towards his nose, but unluckily for him, he opts to side step right into the feint instead of away from it. An oof! escapes him - along with the air in his lungs - and it's with a wheezing laugh that he hops back and holds up his hands. "Okay, okay - let's call it there for a bit, shall we? I'm not as spry as I used to be, evidently."
Deal, came the swift acceptance of Ronin's offer of leg day training. There were many reasons for wanting to speak more with the White Knight, not least because he was a genuinely personable man. And he was an excellent sparring partner.
The final punch connected with rather more force than Hadama had intended or expected, but Ronin was laughing as he caught his breath and the Tidebreaker relaxed his fists. He straightened with a wince of his own as ribs and kidney protested, and he reached into a pouch on his harness to retrieve a small, sturdy bottle and a slender wand. He offered the bottle of Healing water to his opponent and was not shy about applying the basic Healing wand to his own bruises. "Mmh. Neither am I," he admitted easily. "Did you stop aging when you became a demigod?" Hadama had not been one long enough to tell a difference.
Shaking out his hands and straightening up as well, Ronin is mid-stretch when Hadama offers out the healing water, and he gives a sigh of relief and a grateful smile as he accepts it. "This is probably my favourite of Torchline's benefits," he admits, sipping at the water before offering it back to the Tidebreaker. "Yes - even more than the lucky rum fountain." Don't get him wrong, though, he's had a fair amount of use out of that as well.
"Mm...? Oh, gods no," he says with an easy laugh in response to the other man's question, gesturing to the snowy hair around his temples as evidence. (Though, in truth, that's absolutely caused by stress and trauma rather than age, Ronin). "Or at least, if I have, my knees and lower back must have missed the memo." He winks.
"Mmh. It is good to have options," the Tidebreaker agreed obliquely with the selection of fountains in Torchline, though with the gleam of humor in his eyes and a crinkle of amusement at their corners.
The revelation of the limits of demigodly power might have caused some of that humor to fade if Ronin hadn't been so charming about it, and Hadama inclined his head in acceptance of his words, not even considering that there might be other reasons for the other demigod's dapper styling. The White Knight had far more experience with the gods and their gifts, and Hadama had every reason to trust him.
"Then I should work harder at improving my armour," the King decided, a quirk at the corner of his mouth cracking his serene facade for a moment. "If you could help with one more favor?" With a thought the owlbear feather armour cascaded from the armlet on his bicep, silver-white feathers glimmering with protective starlight as they covered his torso. "It needs to be tested 'by physical means.'" He set himself loosely, not to block but to brace against impact. "If you have one more punch in you," came the addendum, and this time there was no hiding the quiet laughter below his words.
"Oho?" Tilting his head, evidently Ronin hasn't expected feathers and starlight to bloom across the Tidebreaker's torso, and there's no denying that he's impressed. "For you and for this, I'm sure I can manage one more punch," he confirms with a nod, rolling his shoulders out and cracking his knuckles, keen eyes flickering over the armour as if to try and spot any obvious weak points. Given who he knows is likely to have made it, of course there are none, and so Ronin settles for front and centre.
He'll probably regret it given that he's using his bare hands, but regardless, he resets his stance and pauses for a second or so, before his arm snaps out to punch the armour. He doesn't hold back this time either, given the requirements that Hadama has outlined - at least it shouldn't hurt too much, if the starlit feathers do their job.
The armour's weakness was that it had not yet been upgraded, and Hadama certainly felt the punch connect even through the starlit fluff of the feathers. He grunted, air expelled from his diaphragm as Ronin's blow sank in, but at least the force of it was blunted from its full power. The armour had the potential to be a great deal more, but it was at least still blessed by a goddess and that was nothing to take lightly.
It saved the Tidebreaker from broken ribs at least, and the tough feathers undoubtedly hurt less against the White Knight's bare skin than steel or hardened leather would have. Once the initial impact was absorbed and diffused the starlight faded, the armour's power expended after blocking a single blow, and Hadama shook off the lingering promise of a bruise to come with a grateful nod for his fellow demigod. "Thank you," he rumbled, a touch rueful in his gaze and the hand he extended to clasp Ronin's.
After that the rest of their patrol was thankfully quiet, with nothing more than a few Hels to disturb the peace of the beach. This time.
