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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!
Dutiful as ever when it comes to his one job, Iskra hauls chopped wood throughout Snowcloak. From felling trees, to limbing them, to cutting them into segments, which are then split into squared and triangular logs perfect for staking, Iskra and the other woodcutters of Halo beat the wild woods into the fuel of their world. Like a little fire fairy, he drift from brazier to pit to sconce, feeding the everburning flames with evergreen wood. The bag thumps at his back, logs clanking like charms behind him, scattering a trail of bark and small kindling in his wake. It scatters with the dog fur already meshed into his jacket, small splinters needling into cloth, never to be removed again.
Iskra draws to a pause near one house he believes belongs to Sah. He doesn't know the man well, though they have met, and he sees him in passing here and there around the region. Thoughts of a wooded conversation about death and oil-fed fire bring a strange mixture of rage and glee back to Iskra's blood.
It's Pad that alerts Sah. The dark wolf was just returning from a hunt when he spots an unfamiliar face lingering near his yard. There something about the man's demeanor that sets off the companion Hackles raising and blood still on his muzzle, a snarl curls the Pad's lips. Silently, he moves to stand at the foot of the porch stairs, never taking his eyes off of Iskra. The door opens a heartbeat later and it's a good thing that the Wild Thunder recognizes the man. Placing a hand on Pad's back, he soothes the wolf as he regards the man. The wolf falls silent, but his stance remains defensive.
"Iskra? Can I help you with something?" Sah wracks his mind for reasons why the man would be standing and watching his house. Nothing obvious comes to him, and he trusts Pad's judgment. If the wolf is wary, then so is the Wild Thunder, even if he keeps his expression friendly. Through the bond, he senses Lilly and Frog drawing closer to the house as well.
Attention flicks to the wolf as it delivers its warning, and Iskra is keen to heed it, about to turn and continue off down the street when the door clicks. Like an invitation, the sound bids Iskra to remain, to look upon the face for which he can dump all the blame of his fear. With each step Sah descends, the more gnarled Iskra's features grow, until he's akin to the snarling wolf, features drawn taut with searing anger.
"SAAAAH!" Iskra shouts in response, still unable to keep his volume low, not that he would at this moment. He steps forward and reaches up to grab the man's collar and hoist him down to even ground. "YOU!" he roars, an accusing finger leering towards Sah. "YOU KILLED MELITA," the accusation is anything but. It's truth, a reminder, and promise of pain as it leaves Iskra's curled lips.
That pointing finger curls into a fist and Iskra swings it towards Sah's face, every bit of his irrational fury angling behind the motion, aiming for the most harm. "YOU. WILL. PAY."
05-10-2025, 02:07 PM (This post was last modified: 05-10-2025, 02:08 PM by Sah.)
sah
Sah's eyes widen at the man's rage, body tensing as he's quickly approached. Hearing the pain in Iskra's voice, and processing the words, the Wild Thunder doesn't immediately shove him off. "If you know the story, then you know it was an accident!" Memories of the tournament rise in his mind. The horror as the lightning connected and the sharp realization that he'd overestimated Melita. Underestimated himself. The guilt. The grief. The nightmares. Why was this coming up again, now?
The snarl that tears out of Pad's throat as his bonded is grabbed, however, is the most vicious sound that Sah has ever heard from his companion. It's only the firm mental nudge from the Wild Thunder that stops the dark wolf from ending the woodcutter's life.
The accusing finger turns into an attack and even as it connects, it doesn't hurt that much. Sah easily takes it and his eyes narrow. His own hand snaps out to grasp Iskra's shoulder as he levels a punch at the man's solar plexus. Even as he swings, the Wild Thunder ensures that the blow is weakened. From that one hit, he can tell that Iskra isn't as strong as him, and Sah has no intention of severely harming the man. Just defending himself.
Accident. Iskra's anger slides against the word with a roar not unlike Pad's. He holds onto it though, already dumping heat into Iskra's veins just at the sight of him. Sah—the fucking shithead that killed Melita, threatened to take her from this world, from him. He cannot stand the notion, and that hate, that need for retribution, is what fuels his first swing.
So it's all the more infuriating that it hits like an inflatable hammer against Sah, who takes it willingly, unflinching until he pushes back in turn. Iskra's eyes widen around the pain that blossoms and bruises along his chest, steps staggering back with it, like it's something he'll have to carry now. It's nothing more than fodder for his anguish though. Harder it goads him, alive in his mind like a separate piece of him that broke off and festered on fear until it grew big enough to start to consume him too, and all his senses with it.
"YOU POWERED UP YOUR ATTACK!" Iskra flings back that accident claim with a shout as he steps forward, ready to break upon this shore if need be as another fist coils. He launches a jab and a hook towards Sah's torso with his left and then his right hands, pressing all his body weight into the momentum of the swings, wanting nothing more than to get Sah on the ground where he can pummel him bloody.
05-11-2025, 10:47 AM (This post was last modified: 05-11-2025, 10:49 AM by Sah.)
sah
Powered up? Did Iskra mean the mageglass that Sah once used? The mageglass that would have been useless now that his lighting magic had doubled in strength? The hybrid shook his head in disbelief, "What? Of course I went full out! Melita had always been significantly more powerful than me!" Sah manages to block Iskra's flurry of attacks, hands catching each fist and deflecting them away from his body.
"I thought that if I didn't give it my all, she'd win immediately and then she'd be angry at me for going easy on her! I had no idea that new Demi-gods took a temporary hit to their vitality!" The Wild Thunder would have held back most of his strength if he had known. Melita was an ally, and she'd been an acquaintance, borderline a friend. He'd never have intentionally hurt her to such a degree, much less murder her.
Sah then tries to elbow Iskra in the ribs in an attempt to force the man back and gain some distance. Lilly calls through the bond that she's nearly there and in a burst of shadow, Frog appears on the porch. The shadowfang has grown, already Pad's size and still a pup. His white eyes glare at Iskra, hackles raised as he guards the door to the Lovi home. With how enraged Iskra is, Sah and his companions can't help but be wary that the man will attempt to go after the twins in order to hurt the Wild Thunder.
The difference between them is stark. Is this how Mel had felt back then? Full of want, her heart in it, but the body failing what the mind commands? Try as he might, Sah is not the bloody mess beneath him Iskra craves, in fact, he doesn't even land a single blow this time. It's so reminiscent of his failed match with Vesper, that beneath the furnace of this anger something slick and oily slips free, winding around him. Weak, it croons, wickedly sweet, as if it pains the voice to say so, to deem him such. It's why she's only around because she has to be, it affirms, the venom of Vesper's voice still trickling like water over a stone, the repetition wearing a hole in him.
"IT WAS A FUCKING TOURNAMENT SAH!" Iskra bellows, unsure if it's him or Ludo's curse screaming at this point. He can't seem to untangle one fucked up voice from another, each one insidious in their own way as they prick against his fear and his wrath, the pair a knot lodged in his throat.
Sah's elbow glances off his side as Iskra shoves his hands against the moving arm, trying to get Sah more off balance. He winces, one eye squinting shut as the graze still promises a bruise, the area sensitive and less padded than other regions of the body. Still, it's a testament that Sah continues to hold back, to defend, when by all rights Iskra is nothing but wildly uncontrolled at this point. That realization hasn't hit Iskra yet though, the indignation still alight, akin to Snowcloak. "YOU DON'T GO ALL OUT IN A TOURNAMENT. YOU MEANT TO KILL HER!" Iskra ducks in, an uppercut aimed at Sah's jaw.
05-23-2025, 09:07 PM (This post was last modified: 05-23-2025, 09:08 PM by Sah.)
sah
It's clear that Iskra is running on emotion and not logic. Still, Sah tries to get through to him. "Of course I didn't mean to!!!" Iskra's fist comes up and the hybrid is able to move just enough that the blow is a glancing one. Iskra's fist slides off his cheek instead of hitting him straight under the chin. it still stings a little.
Distance isn't working so Sah changes tactics. He tries to grab the woodcutter's shoulder and pull him in to grapple the enraged man. As he does so he continues to try and make the man see reason. "The leaders of the regions were there. Every other Demi-god was there! Do you honestly think that they'd have let me live? Much less tell me to move onto the next round, if it was on purpose?!?!?" Sunjata had been the most furious, but he hadn't made a single move towards harming Sah. Not then, and not later on in the name of revenge.
Something falsely sweet coats him with satisfaction as the connection he's desperate to feel between fist and flesh finally arrives. It's still not the ruin he's chasing, not the retribution in a pound of flesh he's suddenly starving to carve out of Sah, but it's something on the wake of nothing and for that it feels all the more large.
The moment is shortlived as Sah grabs him like an errant child, locked against arms and elbows that seem nearly as made of iron as any jail. Iskra tries to twist against the hold, a vein bulging along his neck with the effort to pull away. Like a shadow in the noon sun, there is no escape for him though. Even if Sah's strength isn't leagues greater than his, Iskra's energy is waning, the fire something that burns hot but fast, the fuel of it all wasting to ash. Iskra struggles one last time, trying to hook a punch to Sah's side, but it lacks the reach to gain much power.
"YOU TRIED TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT," Iskra shouts with some final straw he's grasped for reason. The sound of him is strained and muffled against the grip of Sah, and because maybe there's something like admittance starting to creep in as Sah's continued refusal to fully fight back settles like a balm.
With his hands grasping at Iskra, Sah can't properly block his side. The fist connects and the Wild Thunder grimaces more so over the fact that he was hit, than any pain. "I'm not that good of an actor, Iskra. I don't even know how I could have faked it." The strike had been clean, a full force hit. He'd fully expected Melita to shake it off or just doge it. The hybrid's reaction was what had made it clear to all how unintentional the lethality had been.
He'd rushed to her side immediately. Shock and horror, clear for all to see. And if not that, the fact that he completely broke down in the privacy of Ru's company afterwards said enough. Sunjata would have likely heard of that conversation from Ru as well.
Sah adjusts his grip to keep the man still. "Iskra, please. Stop this."
Iskra sighs deeply, utterly beleaguered in Sah's vice-like grip. It's a blessing the Wild Thunder is a considerate sort—another man might’ve made him an offering to Mort by now. He pinches his eyes shut, legs stumbling as his energy wanes, swaying in the wake of his spent fury. Every explanation he had, Sah dashed it. He doesn’t know Sah well, but the man sounds truthful. Now that Iskra has the mind to hear it, some of what he says holds convincing logic. An unfortunate mistake, then? Easy to claim, when Mel’s only alive thanks to others. A reminder, cruel and clear, that her life could slip through his fingers again just as easily.
He sucks in a shaky breath. His hands are slack now as he makes one last, half-hearted attempt to pull away. "ALRIGHT!" he yells, because he cannot do anything less, but it lacks his prior rancor. "I RELENT." He supposes he owes Sah an apology, but he finds it hard to pronounce the words on his tongue. Part of him is still holding onto the fact that Sah killed Melita. So, he opts for something less direct, but no less telling of why Iskra appears to be a madman. "SHE MATTERS A LOT TO ME," he shouts, and though the curse keeps it loud, the words still carry something raw—a plea carved out of a deeper fear. "I CAN'T LOSE HER."
Then, partly because Ludo demands it, and partly because the fear won’t let go of him—the fear of losing her, of not being enough to stop it next time—Iskra reaches for the only thing he can do. He’s not strong enough to save her, but maybe he can suffer like she did, maybe that'd mean something, to him at least. Penance, for all the ways he's failed her. "I WANNA KNOW WHAT SHE FELT." A beat, to consider the insanity. "ZAP ME, SAH."
Taking a moment to consider his actions, Sah lets Iskra go. He's not sure why the man is still yelling, but he listens as the woodcutter gives further context to his rage. Ah. So that's what this was.
The Wild Thunder nods, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. "I understand." His eyes trail to the front of his house, "If it had been one of my kids in her place, I'd be reacting similarly." Lethally.
The small fraction of calm that had settled on his shoulders instantly vanishes at Iskra's next words. "You want me to what?" It's with wide eyes that he scans the man, noting how serious he is about this. Finding nothing but resolve, Sah lets out an incredulous noise. "Seriously?"
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he curses under his breath. "Fine." Stalking forward, he takes one of Iskra's wrists. With a tight grip on his magic, he calls forth his lightning. From what he's seen, Iskra isn't especially powerful. Not yet. The Wild Thunder suppresses the strength of his core element accordingly. It'll hurt. And leave a small burn that he can heal after, but it'll hopefully satisfy the woodcutter.
Lighting crackles to life across Sah's hand, sinking into Iskra. He keeps his eyes on the man the entire time, just in case. After a mere heartbeat, it's over. The magic in the hybrid's hold quickly turns warm as healing magic begins to repair the damage.
He stumbles a step or two back to full height, neck and shoulders rolling with the release. There's a newfound calm between the two of them, an understanding carefully meted out between fists and shouts. A flicker of relief fills Iskra when Sah grasps his reasoning and finds something like agreement among it. It helps firm Iskra's belief in Sah's explanations, and makes him feel a little less insane for acting this way. Shameful still, to be sure, especially with how badly he fared against Sah's strength, something he'd wince at later in the bath, something he'd dwell on with a heaviness as he settles into bed and wishes he could be stronger. He could handle that though.
A clear nod responds to Sah's lingering question of certainty, and a grim smile spreads when he finally agrees. Sah didn't owe him shit after this, but Iskra is grateful for the acceptance of it, his wrist clapped easily in Sah's grip. The knowing that it's coming is already bad, and for a beat Iskra has half a mind to rip his hand back and run down the road instead. He just grits his teeth though, leaning into the ground a bit more, into Sah.
The actual lightning is worse though. So much worse.
Hot and furious it ripples through his wrist, and even as dialed down as he can manage it, it doesn't stop the pain from spreading along every nerve, doesn't stop the muscles from seizing and rippling with mixed electric currents. Everything in his arm tenses, and the jolt has to surge through him and escape down his feet, leaving a wake of destruction that Iskra trembles against. It's fast, and Sah's healing, a pleasant wash that knits everything back together right after, is a welcome addition. It's over in no time, but Iskra reels as he slips out of Sah's grasp again, hand flexing as his other holds his wrist, as if he can still feel the phantom tingle of ruin. To think, Mel had this done at full strength.
Shit, he needs to be better. "THANKS!" he says, an odd thing to say to the person who just zapped you. "IT HELPS," he reassures, glancing back up at Sah with a smile. "SORRY," he finally manages with a rolled shrug. "HOPE YOUR NIGHT GOES BETTER." He then turns to make his leave, hand lifting in a wave of departure.
