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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!
reaching for a book of matches strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
“It is always a dreaded tree, is it not?” Comes the dramatic whine, the tilt of his head back to where he stares momentarily at the ceiling of her cabin with his hand on his chest, before his chuckle escapes him and he tilts his attention back to her with a grin that mirrors his shadows as they both stare at her. “Wicker women and I are enemies.” He informs her, in case she didn’t know about his history with the strange trees.
But he notes the warning of the lamplighters, wondering momentarily while he sips from the glass in his hand, scanning the yellowing bruise on her eye once more. “That is good to know.” He assures her, taking the warning to heart with the hopes that if he does encounter any lamplighters that they’d stand no chance against the Maverick and the Butcher.
Ah, but then she’s offering that playful, protective threat. The tease that has his shark tooth smile brightening and growing, his chuckle escaping him as he leans forward in the chair toward her desk, elbows planted on it as he gives her the most amused look. “Ah, but darling, I am the bodyguard. I cannot very well work with bubblewrap.”
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
She scoffs, giving an agreeing nod of her head. Trees are more dangerous than people give them credit for, especially when they're sentient with a grudge. Thal wouldn't say she 'fears' them - not when a spark of flame can deal with most of them - but she has a healthy respect for them that doesn't let her tease Asta for his own experience, only giving him an assessing hum. "Mmm. Never seen one of those, but a friend about lost his mind hallucinating one." There's a smirk on her lips, finding it funny now that so much time has passed, although Tal probably didn't.
As for lamplighters, time hadn't been enough for that one yet. Her own difficulties had been due to the growing pains of her new ability, but that didn't mean she was tempted to face another anytime soon. If Asta wants to find out for himself, she won't stop him, shrugging her shoulders as she takes a sip of her rum.
Just like Thal technically can't keep him from all harm, no matter how much she tries. And she's not surprised he doesn't want the restriction of protective layers (she'd like to see someone try to put her in such a getup), but there's little she won't do to keep him safe, and there's a level of honesty in her mocking. "Then guard your body better and I won't have to resort to such measures." Her grin is sharp, fangs peeking through like the not-so-subtle threat that flows on her sweetly melodic voice.
reaching for a book of matches strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Chuckling lightly as the butcher rolls his eyes, exhaling a sigh that’s full of amusement as it is nostalgia at the memory. “Mm, well, I got wounded so terribly by one once that Flora summoned Safrin in order to heal me.” So not particularly one of his finest moments, nor was it proving the fact that he doesn’t always get wounded on his outings.
But that’s neither here nor there.
He sips from his glass in blissful, playful unawareness. Letting the warmth of the liquor burn in his stomach and loosen his limbs, adding to the casual arrogance of the events of the day, even as he leans forward and teases her about how ineffectual he would be in his career if he was forced to be wound in protective layers.
“Well, I suppose you are in luck, then. I have some armor to ask our Lady about.” Letting that linger, the butcher finds it satisfactory enough to hopefully alleviate any worries she might have regarding how guarded he keeps his body.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
Her lips raise in a sneer, disgusted by the mention of a goddess other than Dygra. "Ew. I bet that was painful." More than just the near death. She's been healed by a spirit before, one that felt like the warmest rainfall, soaking into her skin and the invisible wounds beneath. Pathetic. It's not her favorite memory - for multiple reasons - but she imagines Asta's experience was worse having it done by another deity, so she doesn't pry.
That doesn't mean she's above pestering him about avoiding injury, and Thal's grin sharpens, satisfied with the answer and the extra means of protection it will ultimately provide him. "Good. I've been meaning to pay her a visit myself. Let me know if you need any help with the quest."
Their easy conversation continues to flow - the banter light and unsuspecting of the coming struggles of Leafchange - until they part for journeys and welcoming seas with a healthy amount of rum in their systems.
