Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
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!
A figure walked beneath the Crimson Cataract like a shadow that the light refused to touch, dark in its mystery with an air of innocence - after all, it was just a young woman in a cloak. The crown of obsidian horns were hidden beneath the hood like a dagger poised for the right moment, a threat and a promise for any who caught their glint.
But she was patient. Waiting.
The searing rage and violent purple voices had left her eager to please - hungry for approval. And so she'd gone to hunt where no one might miss a wandering soul. She'd gone to wait for the right moment. The right person.
Her head was turned up to the light, almost somber in the softness of her features, like she might consider drowning in the floating waters, relinquishing her hold on reality. The expression was a honeyed trap that hid the poised predator beneath, the one that flexed her fingers near her daggers, licking her fangs behind the curtain of her lips like she could taste the victory there. She let her other senses reign while her eyes fixed to the glowing currents above.
Liam strolled beneath the Crimson Cataract, utterly oblivious to the shadow lying in wait for him. Perhaps it was because he was preoccupied; perhaps he was simply complacent. Either way, he walked confidently along the trail that traced the floating river, taking a break from the run he'd been on to catch his breath.
He was, of course, distracted - what had happened in Torchline with Flora had given him a lot to think about - Maea, in particular. His budding feelings for the Ancient - feelings that he hadn't recognized until the Queen of Torchline had smacked him in the face with them - were complicated, and he wasn't sure how to proceed. Whether or not he wanted to proceed. He had, after all, grown quite used to being alone.
Stretching his arms over his head, he picked up the pace, shifting into a jog as he followed the Cataract through the forest. He'd have to decide eventually, but for now, he could just enjoy his run.
Her ears picked up on the sound of footsteps as she stared into the red currents, her heartrate spiking in eager delight. She didn't turn to look, reaching up a delicate hand to run it through a low tendril of river water, waiting. The cool water slipped between her fingers like the strings of control she knew could snap at any minute. It was a dangerous game that she danced around, elegant and lithe in the twisting of her notes that rose to meet it.
The tilt of her head cast her voice into the river; the tune of her song was hopeful and dreamlike until it resonated within the water, distorting to something mournful and mysterious - welcoming the listeners to investigate what emotions may possess such a woman. Her voice drifted forward to pull at his heart strings. It was carefully curated to entrance and captivate, bright enough not to alarm, but dark enough to intrigue. It was a shimmering item at the bottom of the sea, suggesting treasure if someone was brave enough to reach into its depths.
She waited, nonthreatening as an ocean breeze before a storm, offering sanctuary to those unfamiliar enough to trust it.
A voice rose through the forest, and Liam almost tripped over his own feet at the sound. He hadn't been expecting to find anyone else out here, particularly not someone singing. It was a beautiful melody, drawing him in if only to satisfy his curiosity. There was something about it - he couldn't quite put his finger on what - that called to him like a siren's song, and he adjusted his course to head towards the voice.
It didn't take him long to find the source - someone stood beneath the Cataract, arm outstretched above her head to slip her fingers into the crimson waters that flowed above. Liam slowed to a walk as he approached, not wishing to startle her, and made sure to step on a few twigs that might break beneath his feet. He said nothing, not wishing to distract her from her song; he merely waited for an opening into which he could insert his appreciation.
As she lowered her hand and let the song come to a trailing, lingering end, she let her glamour fall into place. Few would recognize the Ancient without her characteristic horns or tail, her features softened to something girlish and naive, a glimpse of the gentle mermaid she might have been before - trapped in the body of a killer.
When her eyes turned to the man, they were a pure, crystal blue. He hadn't seen the way the red lighting gave them a purple hue, hinting at the allegiance within. No, he saw the beautifully untouched features of a young woman, enchanting in its innocence. Her smile only sealed the illusion, a ghost of brightness that allured like the deceptive shimmer of sunlight on the calm surface of an undercurrent. And when she spoke, there was music intwined with every syllable. "Who might you be?" The question of someone who'd been expecting a visitor but didn't know their name, an invitation to come closer.
The singer, as it turned out, was a young woman - girlish, enchanting, with striking blue eyes that Liam could swear could see through his very soul. When she spoke, it was with a musical voice that drew him closer still, until he was close enough to hold a conversation, but not so close as to make her uncomfortable. If anything, he was merely there to express his concern for someone lost in the Greatwood. And, of course, to compliment her song.
Much to Liam's surprise, the woman seemed completely at ease with her surroundings. Had he not known better, he might have thought her a lifelong citizen of the Greatwood. "My name is Liam," he said, his voice friendly. "I heard you singing. It was beautiful." He paused, glancing around, as though expecting to find that she'd drawn more of an audience. "Are you alright?"
She had to contain her glee at the name, wondering what her luck might have been to find someone so fitting for her plans. Her expression remained softly innocent, that ghostly smile almost 'friendly' in her inquisition. "Ooh. You wouldn't happen to be Maea's Liam, would you?" she asked casually, the interest in the blue of her eyes like the gentle lapping of a calm ocean while the twisted violence of her thoughts sat like salt on her tongue, making her all the more eager for her to succeed.
Her smile was knowing in a way that suggested his compliment didn't require gratitude because she'd expected him to say as much. She just tilted her head, stepping a little more into his space with all the ease and subtlety of a skilled thief slipping through shadows, smoke billowing closer. A single delicate finger moved to trace the line of his chest, letting her eyes roam before drawing up to look at him through the dark curtain of her lashes. "I'm better now that you're here." It was sweet and musical, the twist of her lips too playful to give away her dark intentions.
The idea of being Maea's Liam flustered the soldier; his cheeks reddened, and he reached up to rub the back of his neck. But the young woman seemed so genuine, and so interested, that he said, "I guess you could say that." And he was about to ask for the woman's name, but then she stepped closer, a single finger tracing the line of his chest, and his brows knit together in confusion. If the woman thought he was with Maea in any capacity, then why was she acting like this?
Liam took a subtle step back, breaking the contact between the stranger's finger and his chest. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked. She seemed so innocent, and perhaps a bit naive. Maybe she hadn't meant anything by invading his space. She certainly didn't seem like a threat. But there was something about the interaction that didn't quite make sense, even if Liam couldn't put his finger on it. "Did you need help finding your way back to the village?"
Something wicked and purple coiled in her chest, a desire to strike against the woman who had caused her and Asta so much suffering. If she thought about it, she was doing Liam a favor, taking him away from Maea before she could find something disagreeable about him, before she could decide that he wasn't good enough to stand in her self-righteous presence.
Smiling a little sweeter, like poison dripping onto her soft lips, Thal watched as he retreated a step. She didn't mind a chase, but that wasn't the game - yet. So she moved forward slowly, her posture too casual to be a threat to such a large man, a melodic hum flowing from her as she lowered her hand to clasp it behind her back. "No, but there's something I can do for you." Her head tilted just enough to look endearing, the blue in her eyes suggesting only good intentions. "There's someone who would very much like to meet you. I'll take you to her."
The stranger's smile was sweet and inviting, her movement casual and nonthreatening. But if that was the case, then why was the hair on the back of Liam's neck standing on end?
"Someone who'd like to meet me?" Liam repeated, his brows knitting together in confusion. He wasn't the kind of person that others wanted to meet, was he? He was just some random guy, an ex-dragoon who hadn't been relevant in... well, ever. He wasn't sure he understood what was happening. A part of him wanted to bid the woman goodbye and go about his day, but then there was the part of him that worried that she was unwell. Could he really leave someone in need in the middle of the Greatwood alone?
So he did the only reasonable thing he could think of. He agreed. "Alright. Where is she?"
She'd never expected it to be quite this easy. The persona was thick, just a young girl being friendly with a man in the middle of the woods. So thick, that when he seemed surprised by her statement, a chiming giggle fell from her lips. It was childish and naive, the sound of a windchime made of shells on the mast of a ship; but no one noticed the chipped shell that casts an uncomfortable dissonance to the sound, too quiet to unsettle, too quiet to warn.
Tilting her head up, the giggle carried into her playful words, "Yes, you, silly." She moved to pass him, her eyes never leaving his, beckoning and disarming in their brilliance. "She's in Stormbreak. I'll take you there." Thal flashed him an enchanting smile, spinning on her heel as if she might skip down the riverbank to the nearest skyship.
The stranger moved to pass him, and he turned to follow, doing his best to seem intrigued without being concerned. He remembered being trained, once, as a dragoon, on how to best handle someone who seemed like perhaps they weren't entirely well. Maybe this girl was just naive, or maybe there was something a little simple about her, but he didn't feel right about leaving her in the woods on her own.
Where he drew the line, however, was at the word Stormbreak.
With the city under the Family's control, and after the broadcast about the fallen Tower, Liam was, shall we say, not eager to return if doing so meant pledging allegiance to the Family. Did this girl know the danger that she was walking into? "Stormbreak isn't safe," he protested, reaching out to gently grab her by the elbow, drawing her to a halt. His eyes were sharp on her face. "Who is it that you want me to meet?"
The concern he seemed to have was adorable, like the scent of berry-coated blood that made her mouth water. Her tongue ran over her teeth where her fangs threatened to poke through, the hungry expression replaced with pure sincerity as she glanced briefly over her shoulder at him. "You won't have to worry about that." Because once he was a Friend, he wouldn't need to worry about anything anymore.
She looked down at where his hand grasped her elbow, debating if she wanted to end the ruse so soon just to snap his wrist, but there was a final look she wanted to see on his face. Turning her head back up, her eyes bore into him a little sharper, a purple glean that wasn't quite there before. The girlish features remained along with the 'giddy' smile she painted onto her lips. "The only woman in Stormbreak who matters." The pause was palpable, heavy with anticipation as she finally said the name with a blatantly innocent blink of her lashes. "Dahlia."
You won't have to worry about that, she said, and Liam couldn't help the dubious look that crossed his face. They all had to worry about that, especially now, when those opposing the Family had been so publicly ousted from Stormbreak. He hadn't done much to fight against the Family, it was true - except give a rose to Deimos - but neither was he eager to join their ranks. They were everything he despised, everything he wanted to fight against, if only he were a little stronger -
At Dahlia's name, the soldier dropped the girl's elbow as though he'd been burned, stepping back as sudden understanding dawned, a recognition of what was happening crashing over him. "You -" he said, stumbling a little in his haste to create space. "You're infected." Not crazy. Not deranged. Infected.
