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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!
A joy hard-learned in winter was the warming of the bed You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
"So yeah, I'm supposed to be hit with dark magic while the shirt is on," Koa explains cheerfully as he follows alongside the Sword, lengthening his stride to keep pace with the taller man. While, yes, the last time the Warden had used his body as a human exhibition of his magic's strength had ended with Koa utterly demolished with his hair burnt off, he and Deimos are in far better terms now, and he has faith in his ability to not die today.
So long as his foot stays far from his mouth.
The Palace is surprisingly not-frozen, and Koa's begun to feel a little overwarm in his heavy parka and scarf. Peeling the coat off, he drapes it over one of his arms, revealing a flannel coat because yes, he overdressed. At least Pip is thoroughly enjoying the climate: the little dragon flutters among the crystalline spires, chirping periodically and delighting in the way her voice echoes in the acoustic space.
Koa Carpenter
Wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
what tried to destroy you didn't have the strength
The Palace had long since become a more stable structure of integral means – shelters in place, infirmaries nearby, rather than the ostentatious presentation it had primarily concocted years before. Even so, he hadn’t leant many of his magic credentials here, in battle formation anyway, and the request had caused his brow to arch. “Is this something from Ludo?”
Sighing and peeling back one of the layers from his forearms, he contemplated efforts – and which would be more suitable for the Dragoon. “I have fire and life drain,” of which he’d be very familiar with the former, and likely not with the latter – each encompassing and harboring their own dangerous properties. It might’ve instilled the manner of growth they’d had, that he didn’t immediately unfurl the masses and multitudes. “Do you have something to protect you?” Because unless that shirt carried some heavy defenses instilled in its fabric…he wasn’t certain how much the Accepted would be able to withstand.
A joy hard-learned in winter was the warming of the bed You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
"How'd you guess?" Koa drawls, copper eyes rolling as he arches his brow. Why he'd ever thought he'd favor Ludo remains beyond the boy, but he's not going to let his (healthy, wise) fear of the herald keep him from his tasks.
As for which magic he'd rather face? Koa swallows at Deimos's calm demeanor, remembering keenly how it felt to face that wild fire. "Whichever won't ruin my clothes, I guess?" Life Drain, presumably, though if that isn't some ominous sounding shit he doesn't know what is.
As for protection? Setting his jacket neatly on a nearby bench, he starts in on the buttons of his flannel shirt. "I've got this--" he begins, as soft grey appears like Frodo's mithril beneath his widening collar "-which is what I'm trying to strengthen. Doubt it'll stand much of a chance against your full strength, though."
It's a few more seconds and then he's undressed, the mothman shirt clinging to his chest, goosbumps rising on his bare arms. Fingering the hem of his soft shirt, he twists his lips in thought. "How's one supposed to avoid magic, anyway? Or counter it, as an Accepted?" The image of one mage in particular flashes through his mind, and Koa clenches his teeth at the flicker of anger he feels in response. One day, Jack. One day.
Koa Carpenter
Wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
what tried to destroy you didn't have the strength
Long strides carried him across the wake, out of the range of anyone and everything roaming nearby – snorting at the Dragoon’s drawl. “Lucky guess,” he grinned. “Sounds like something that would amuse it.” And while Deimos hadn’t ever had any complaints about the raggedy herald, that didn’t mean plenty of others hadn’t been subjected to less-than-ideal quests from it. Still, Safrin probably would’ve been a safer alternative.
Turning back to face Koa though, his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, mildly confused on why the clothes were more important than perhaps the entire rest of his entity…but it was a fair assertion. The fire likely wouldn’t have permitted the shirt to remain as anything more than ash. “Life drain it is.” Which meant Deimos would have to be the more careful one.
At least the fabric seemed to have retained some power. “And for how long? Likely has some limitations with it.” Watching the younger man start to shiver though made him crave to inquire a lot of semblances, but resolutely and wisely, he kept his mouth shut. As for avoiding magic, he gave half a grin. “Probably things you already have – shields, guards, certain clothing and items. The problem is there are many magics around, so you would have to be careful about what types you would like to avoid and have covered. Running and evasion itself are good options too.” Staying out of range, ducking behind certain shelters, exploiting limitations…all well and good until one encountered someone with enough stamina, fortitude, endurance, and power to bypass most.
But here they were anyway. “Let me know when you are ready.”
A joy hard-learned in winter was the warming of the bed You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
Tugging his shirt away from his torso, Koa peers down at the soft grey fabric. "It's been a bit one-and-done so far," he admits, lips quirking. "But I'm hoping Ludo will change that, once I finish my quest." A quest he's been somewhat neglecting, but busy times and all that jazz.
He takes a few steps back from Deimos, shaking out his shoulders and rolling his neck. "Yeah, most items I've seen only seem to work against a specific brand of magic, not the whole spectrum." He pulls his arms across his chest, getting his muscles loose and limber in preparation for the spar. Though a laugh breaks free at the suggestion of evasion, Koa chuckling ruefully and running fingers through his hair. "One of the first rules of being a soldier - know when to stand and fight, and when to cut and run. You're no good to anyone dead, right?" It's a lesson his mother had drilled into him: better to be a coward and live to tomorrow than be a hero and die today.
Not, of course, that it had stopped her from running out and getting herself killed.
But that's a bad thought, and ain't nobody got time for that. Shove it down, lock the lid, throw away the key. Raising his arms and dropping his weight, Koa assumes a ready stance. "Okay. Let's see how this dodging thing works out, shall we?" he laughs, jerking his chin in the universal signal of come at me, bro.
Koa Carpenter
Wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
what tried to destroy you didn't have the strength
Deimos could have agreed with each sentiment on the notions of soldier rules, having experienced it firsthand multiple times, and seeing many of his friends slaughtered in the process. Though he wasn’t one to frequently run from said fights, he had learned in the past when to hedge their bets and losses; especially when it came to certain beasts. “Take that into consideration with some of the monsters we have too,” he noted – though whether those were of Frey and Rae’s variety or the common element of humans, he didn’t say. Could combine it altogether.
He watched as the Dragoon adopted his stance though, and he inwardly wrinkled his nose, knowing there wasn’t a good strategy against Life Drain. But maybe the shirt could make an impact.
Nodding to signal the incoming malice, he unleashed the vicious torrent of incantations. The intangible notions slithered and crept, before seething directly at Koa, and the makeshift fabric, intending to take and snag and whittle away the fortitude and strength contained within his frame.
A joy hard-learned in winter was the warming of the bed You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
So in fairness, Koa did know what he was getting into when he asked for this fight. But knowing and knowing are very different things, and as the force of Deimos' magic strikes him squarely in the chest the has a split second of clarity, in which he knows that oh, no, he hadn't known shit.
Then the indescribable pain of having roughly half of ones life force sucked away crashes in like Miley Cyrus doing construction, and clarity is abandoned in favor of staggering, blinking, overwhelming "Ow." Stumbling back, Koa clutches at his chest, where it feels like Deimos has clawed a hole inside his very soul. "Seriously- ow," he gasps again between inhales, trying not to collapse into fetal position on the floor.
Rubbing circles in his sternum, Koa forces himself to straighten despite the ache set in his bones. "Y'know what? Maybe that's enough for today, actually." Turns out the shirt doesn't do shit against someone of Deimos' strength, and now that he's gotten a taste of it, Koa doesn't much fancy experiencing that particular lesson again. "You magic is fucking strong." Admiration whistles in his voice; he shakes his head with a wry laugh. "I think I'm gonna need a bit more training before I'm ready to face that again. Maybe a trip to your hot springs, too."
Koa Carpenter
Wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
what tried to destroy you didn't have the strength
Perhaps Deimos had thought the shirt had some other beneficial means to it – or was stronger than mere fabric would preside. It was difficult to tell with Koa sometimes; either boasting, truthful, somewhere in the middle – but then the inevitable came and all he could do was sigh.
The potent leeching was there immediately; naught much to hold back the ferocity save for his own control. The moment the other man stumbled back with a vivid ‘ow’, the Sword pulled the tether and dissipated the line of intangible threads. “Sorry,” he grimaced, knowing fire wouldn’t have been much better (nor had this particular brand of his ruthless potential been at full power either). One had to wonder if Ludo had given Koa this specific task simply to see if he’d commit to it –
Regardless, he wasn’t surprised when the training ceased and desisted right then and there. A better tactic and survival for the future. “Fair enough,” and the Stormbreaker had gotten what he’d come for. “I can have Zuriel heal you too,” and at least some strength would be snagged and rejuvenated.
