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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!
It might’ve been the rush of Longheat, but sometimes that scarcely mattered when it came to Halo. The wild world was still stark, still dangerous, and still mighty; as if always waiting for the next foolish endeavor. Perhaps someone wouldn’t notice the time slipping away as day fell to night. Maybe another thought they could chance slipping by unsuspecting creatures. Misfortune in Caido was easy – and the Tundra made it that much simpler.
Notice had arrived that morning about another missing set of hunters – and though they’d wisely informed many of where they were going, they hadn’t returned. Deimos sent word and assembled a crew, apprehension flickering away for the benefit of steely resolve and determination. For now, while waiting for the others to arrive directly outside the Citadel gates, he ensured the sled he’d be pulling was loaded with necessities; including food, water, and space in case they’d be hauling multiple people on their way back home, and left room for anyone else’s impending supplies.
Several soldiers and trackers were willing to go as well, and along with his companions (especially Belial for scouting and Zuriel for healing), they should’ve beheld a well-rounded team for the impending efforts.
--
This is a Search and Rescue Attuned-focused PQ+! Please have your characters arrive and list anything they’ll be bringing (they can put it on the sled ;D). We have until March 11th for this PQ+ to be completed.
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
The wind over Halo ran thin and sharp, skimming ice and stone in restless currents. Marcus rode it in silence, wings spread wide, feathers locked against the cold. He was on his way to meet Deimos and the rest of the task force. He was glad this band of hunters didn’t include his father. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep as level of a head if Noah was missing.
He circled, tightening his spiral to land once he saw Deimos hulking figure. His cry split the air, sharp and carrying. Im here. he announced over the bond, cerulean eyes focusing on the warden.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Lyra bounds across the snow, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of being able to enjoy the tundra without being bundled beneath layers and layers of warmth. In this form, the wind ruffles her thick, black fur without slicing through entirely, and the snow crunches under her paw pads as though she were wearing thick boots. It's still a wonder, being able to shift like this, being able to see the world through other, keener senses. Lyra will forever be grateful to Safrin for giving her this blessing.
She arrives with a large pack dangling from her mouth; it contains dried meat and fresh water bundled in furs to keep them from getting too cold; several blankets of varying thickness; a map and compass; a first aid kit that contains the healing ring she had recently upgraded with Safrin's help; a long length of rope; and a few other odds and ends that Lyra had guessed or researched prior to joining this expedition.
Hello, Deimos, she says through the bond as she places her pack on the sled. She can sense the other Attuned through the bond, and her dark eyes flick up to focus on a bird flying high above. Hello. I'm Lyra, she offers to the stranger, before her attention turns once more to Deimos. She says nothing more, instead electing to wait for instructions, although her tag wags, low and slow, a sign of her eagerness to get started and prove herself.
---
Lyra brings what is on her profile, plus a pack containing: food and water bundled in furs to keep them from freezing; several blankets of varying thickness; a map and compass; a first aid kit that includes her healing ring (for others to use as needed); a long length of rope; and a few other odds and ends that Lyra had guessed or researched prior to joining this expedition.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
don't talk 'bout me like how you might know how i feel top of the world, but your world isn't real
Sometimes taking a break from the heat meant going completely in the opposite direction. It’s what leads Caly to Halo, after all. Arriving just in time to find that Deimos needed help with a search and rescue. And while Caly wasn’t really one for going around and doing things out of the good of her heart, well, Deimos had helped her figure out her attuned capabilities in her shifts enough times that she’s willing to come and help.
Positive that he’ll recognize her shift, the young attuned arrives to the gathering of trackers, soldiers, Deimos’ familiar hellhound shift, and a few others she does not recognize (but whom she might recognize the name of). Her shift is her tide jaguar, pale and mirroring the snows with her golden glowing rosettes that give the appearance of the sunrise over fresh powdered snow, her paws leaving marks behind as she arrives and pulses a warm sunshine greeting to the other attuned in the group.
Hey. A brief pause as she dips her feline head toward the Warden, then lets her golden gaze shift toward the avian and canine in the area. I’m Caly. Her tail flits behind her with ease, just waiting for a direction to be sent.
Caly arrives in her tide jaguar shift with everything on her profile EXCEPT the sun spear!
They arrived on wings and paws, though Deimos did tilt his head curiously at Lyra, curious and inquiring in all the impending chaos – before she offered the greeting. Snorting, he granted a slight canine smile, before nodding at Marcus and Calypso, the motivation behind the meeting already flickering back into the forefront. Hello and thank you for coming. We are going to try and locate a team of four hunters. Turning his head towards the Tundra out in the distance, he jutted his jawline in the direction of a large, rocky outcropping, before it flattened back into residual flattened surfaces and endless piles of snow. They were heading in that direction to track some luxere, but clearly hadn’t returned. Last seen yesterday morning.
Gesturing to one of the soldiers nearby, the individual pulled out several articles of clothing supplied by the family members of the four. I figured we can try and track the scents, and those of us can fly, he motioned towards Marcus’ current form, and Belial, as the peryton roamed restlessly near the Sword’s long tail, Can scout from above as we try to find the trail.
--
Smell the clothing and decide whether to go by land or air!
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
Settling in to listen as the task is laid out, her golden gaze flits over to see the direction where the large outcropping sits. Her gaze dances across the snow thoughtfully, wondering how far hunters familiar with the snowy landscape might get in the span of a day. Probably far, unless something else got them first.
Ears flick as she peers over to see the soldier and the clothes laid out, noting that while she did have a shift that would keep her on the ground, she wasn’t made to be a good tracker like she imagines the others are. I can scout too! She suggests quickly, flashing a feline smile before she shifts into the sunstreak, her long legs tapping on the ground as she shifts her wings and little harmless sparks flit off of her.
She hops over to inspect the clothing either way, even if she wouldn’t be following the scent, and after a moment she takes to the sky in a little burst of sparks and colors, waiting for Marcus and Belial to join so they can get started.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Lyra takes in the sights and sounds and smells as a tide jaguar joins them. She doesn't recognize the name Caly, but she offers a canine smile in her direction all the same. Then she focuses on Deimos, eager to get started and explore the limits that this shift has to offer. She makes mental notes of the important details: four hunters, last seen yesterday morning, heading that way. Normally she'd be looking for tracks or broken branches or something to indicate movement, but on the tundra, all she can see is freshly fallen snow.
So she'll have to rely on her other senses, won't she?
Trotting over to the clothing, she sniffs at it tentatively. It smells so much stronger than it ever would were she human, but not in a bad way. Instead, the scents are merely interesting, and so unique - it will be easy to tell the hunters apart by scent alone, when they find them. Once Lyra is confident that she has the scents memorized, she begins to cast about for them in the direction Deimos had indicated.
---
Lyra sniffs the clothing and then starts trying to track the hunters using smell!
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
The others gathered in their shifts and Marcus was ready to go. He listened as Deimos relayed the information, remembering the group of hunters that his father had briefly mentioned going out. Without a form to track scent, the young hybrid took to the skies.
Marcus leveled his wings and slowed, trading speed for precision. Scouting wasn’t about covering ground fast — it was about seeing what didn’t belong. He let the wind carry him in a broad grid, carving invisible lines across the tundra while his sharp eyes combed every break in the white below.
Luxere trails were usually easy to read from above: soft branching paths, clustered movement, gentle patterns where hooves pressed and wandered. But pursuit changed those shapes. Driven herds stretched into narrow lines. Panic scattered them. If four hunters had followed, there would be heavier steps cutting through.
He flicked his eyes towards the fiery bird for a moment an clacked his beak in appreciation for the help.
The scents curled and coiled amidst senses; enough of a path to track, to follow, to catch, strive, try to reach a point of disturbance. Deimos loped ahead, long strides stretching outward, not at a breakneck speed, but enough to keep everyone within reach, nose to the ground, then sweeping upward, as both he and Lyra caught the intertwining loops of the four. As expected, it wound towards the rocky outcropping, more semblances wound throughout – luxere - but from their expanse upon the land, they wouldn’t be able to snag at what might have been beyond, either warning signs or impending notions. We have a trail. See anything? he uttered to the birds and his own companion as he continued running, tracing, clinging to a foundation.
Indeed they would – from Belial, to Marcus and Calypso. The aforementioned herd was far, far off the original mark, a fair distance away from the rocks that had likely been impending cover as they followed their prey. Even farther ahead, if the fliers squinted, would be a wagon and sled; shafts broken, horses or reindeer that had been pulling it clearly scattered and gone away.
--
Relay any information, wonderings, or other findings to one another!
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
Rising into the sky, Caly’s wings beat to let her catch a wind that hopefully will send them in the right direction. Her golden gaze flits over to spy Marcus as he arrives, the clack of his beak met with a thrum of sparkling sunlight through the Attuned bond of utmost confidence. Anytime!”
ON the winds with the eagle and the peryton, Caly’s gaze focuses on the ground for anything of note, zipping forward and falling back on occasion to remain with the group – right when it begins to make sense. She can see the herd in the distance, despite how well they blend into the surroundings. As her gaze scans further, though, she greets Deimos’ question from below. I can see a broken sled ‘n a wagon. No horses or reindeer. She relays, twisting on a wind to glance down to the hellhound to see what their next step might be.
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
Keeping himself steady with the peryton and the brightly colored sunstreak, Marcus let his eyes fall and scan over the tundra. The land stretched wide and unforgiving, the wind-combed snow rippling like frozen surf, ridgelines etched in blue shadow, scattered stone outcrops jutting like broken teeth. The air shoved and tugged at his wings in uneven pulses, cold currents sliding beneath him while sharper gusts cut crosswise, testing his balance. He wondered how long the other bird-attuned would be able to keep that warm climate shift in such a place as this.
While scanning, Caly saw it first and relayed over the attuned bond. The hybrid tilted a wing and slid closer through the current until he was pacing her, feathers shivering as he adjusted to a sudden downdraft rolling off a low rise. I’ve got the herd too, he relayed, gaze flicking from their pale forms to the scar in the snow where the sled and wagon sat broken -- dark splinters and torn canvas stark against the white.
He dipped lower for a moment, studying the spread of tracks around it, noting where the wind had chewed them thin and where deeper impressions still held their shape. I’ll take a wider pass and see if anything pulled away from the wreck.
Marcus sees the wreckage and wants to continue his search for antything leading out of it!
Regional Score bonus: +15 in all shrine visits, drops, PQ+s, KQs, etc. (You must post this at the bottom of any post where a +15 should be included). Residents cannot be cursed at shrines in this region.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Scents coil and curl around the Newfoundland as she treks steadily across the snow. She picks out the ones she's looking for and discards the others, quickly taking to her new abilities and using them to her advantage. Lyra stays close to Deimos - not on top of him, but not far enough to be endangered by the tundra - and trots onward, towards the rocky outcropping that she can see looming in the distance. Luxere pass through, an idle band of creatures, and the Newfoundland tracks their movement even as she continues on her hunt.
She cannot yet see beyond the rocks, but she hears the information relayed from their flying friends and begins to catalogue possibilities. Do you see signs of struggle, aside from the broken sled and wagon? she inquired. Blood, or anything else that looks like they might have been attacked? As she continues on, she begins to refocus her efforts, sniffing for the metallic tang of blood or any new scents that might give a clue as to what had happened.
---
Lyra asks if they see signs of a struggle, then sniffs for any new scents that might indicate what happened.
Regional Score bonus: +19 in all shrine visits, drops, PQ+s, KQs, etc. (You must post this at the bottom of any post where a +19 should be included). Residents cannot be cursed at shrines in this region.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
Between the three above and the pair below, information was relayed, and the hellhound’s ears twitched, gliding back and forth as he strived to pick up on anything. Broken wagons and far off herds meant they were close, but with nothing else, they’d have to comb this area. Thereafter though, as they rambled forward, another scent would relay over both canines’ senses. He circled multiple times, eyes narrowing, for fresh snow had fallen over the remnants of the drops, but certainly hadn’t masked the smell. Blood this way, he cast, glancing at Lyra, then putting his nose down to the rest of the trail…where it inevitably broke apart into two sections, both fresh.
Clenching his jaw and raising his gaze back up to the flying scouts, since Marcus was already heading towards the wreckage portion, he’d ask Calypso to go the opposite way. Can you see anything in that direction? yielding his jawline towards where one of the scent trails had begun to increase. They may have split the party. And going in one direction over the other could mean life or death, when time was of the essence. His stare narrowed at the distance nearby – stark and white, outlined in nothing but the endless vastness of Halo itself.
While the other hybrid banked his way towards the sled and wagon, he’d find remnants of an onslaught; but not much left behind. No blood drops, concealed under a new layer of snow. The hunters had been resourceful – everything was gone out of the bombardments – but then he’d see a minor hole in the rocky outcropping – perhaps a cave, or some covering.
--
Deimos and Lyra have found blood and a trail that breaks into two parts. Marcus has found a cave by the wreckage. Calypso has been asked to scout in the other direction.
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
Marcus banked toward the wreckage. Up close, the damage told a quieter story than he expected, and it made his heart lurch as he witnessed the splintered wood, twisted runners, and canvas snapping faintly where it had frozen stiff. The snow had already begun its work of mercy by attempting to hide whatever violence had scattered the hunters from their transport.
He circled once above the rocky outcropping Deimos had indicated, gaze narrowing as the shallow hollow revealed itself. From above it looked small, but shadow swallowed its depth, the interior unreadable. It was a dark interruption in the stone, easy to miss unless the light struck it just right.
Marcus gave a brief call across the bond, There’s an opening here.
He beat his wings to hold position against a stubborn crosswind. My sight’s better out here than in there, he admitted, practical and not slightly embarassed. Can someone take a closer look inside? I’ll stay overhead — watch for movement, heat signatures, anything approaching. There was no use pretending to be something he wasn't, pretending he could do something he couldn't, when people's lives were on the line.
He resumed a slow circle above the entrance.
Marcus asks for backup since he is better i nthe sky than he is in the dark!
