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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!
As Marcus and Belial drifted downward and closer, they’d be able to make out the two distinct figures. The Olson would recognize them as several well-known hunters, and certainly his father would know them, Barbara Cross and Rhyver Woodley, tucked up against what likely was a snow-embedded boulder. It was difficult to discern if they were wounded, frozen solid, or simply striving to survive, ducked down by stone, but Deimos nodded, already beginning to form another plotline and needs to the next maneuver. Headed your way, Marcus. Are they injured? It would help with some means of preparation, but Zuriel had done all she could for the other hunter; she’d be tending right alongside them.
Once Bucket was loaded into the sled, there were the others. Turning to Calypso, he tilted his head. Can you fly to Marcus and my peryton? We will follow close behind. That way they’d have another warm body to assist and aid. Glancing at Lyra, he took another long, slow breath, calculations on edge. If you stay with him on the sled, maneuvering his jaw towards Bucket’s frame, figuring her support and warmth would ensure he didn’t completely collapse on them (as it was, he seemed to be steady, nodding to a couple of the soldiers. I will pull us along. And he’d be able to follow Belial’s whereabouts overhead, listening to the sound of the companion’s hoots and hollers.
Ensuring everyone understood the orders, he hastened back to the vessel, snagging at the rope with his teeth and pulling ahead.
--
Two more hunters have been found and off the party goes~
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
Once Bucket was settled on the sled, Caly’s attention flits back toward Deimos with the question – already quietly reaching for her sunstreak shift. The jaguar bobs her head, whiskers twitching before they soon vanish in favor for a beak and harmless sparks that shoot off her wings and tail. Sure, no problem! She chimes to the Warden.
Taking a moment to shake off the cold that settles in her bones again with the smaller form, Caly takes to the skies with a glitter of sparks – wings catching on the breezes to take her toward the falcon and the two figures. They’re strangers to her, but she recognizes the chill that has seeped into the figure’s bones, chirping a sound toward them to see if they might move before she descends presumably with Belial and Marcus to help the two.
Caly zooms over to Marcus to help with the two other hunters!
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Lyra continues to fuss over the hunter, using her paws to tuck the blanket more tightly around his form on the sled. He seems steady enough, and in good enough spirits to exchange words with some of the soldiers accompanying them. With his wounds tended to by Zuriel, now all Lyra must worry about is whether or not he is adequately hydrated and fed - which, by the looks of him, can wait until they are back in the safety of civilization.
Still, at Deimos's request, the Newfoundland climbs up onto the sled and settles across the man's lap, using her body heat to warm him as the hellhound begins to pull them through the snow and towards the other people who have been found by their winged allies. A part of her longs for something more to do, but the logical side of her brain knows that warming Bucket is just as important as anything else if they want the man to make it back to the Citadel alive. Besides, until they know what they are up against, there is little she can do for the other two hunters.
---
Lyra accompanies Bucket on the sled and waits for further instruction!
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
What had been indistinct forms swallowed by snow quickly became fabric, limbs, and the unmistakable stillness of bodies that had run out of strength before they found safety. His wings faltered for half a beat as recognition struck. Only a few years older than he was, Rhyver lay half-curled against a shallow drift, one arm thrown across his face. A few feet away, Ms. Cross was slumped against a low rise of stone, posture rigid in that dangerous way that suggested cold had settled deep into muscle and bone. He had just seen these two go out on a hunt with his father, the day that Nova had visited the Lodge.
Seeing them like this twisted something sharp in his chest. He forced himself into focus.
Rhycer and Ms. Cross!! The eagle cried both over the attuned bond and as an eagle’s cry over the tundra air. He couldn’t remember if either of them were attuned, but he hoped one of them would hear him along with his party. Marcus circled lower, careful not to startle as Caly came down with him, sparks flittering from her feathers. He looked for injuries, assessing for blood and gore on the ice, snow, and on their persons.
Marcus calls out who he has found and tries to assess if they need medical attention
They moved, putting things into motion, operating as a team to ensure survival for the remaining, scattered party out amongst the wilderness. Once everyone had arrived and assessed the situation, the portions looked far more dire than with Bucket (now ensconced on the sled with a blanket) – perhaps both had been exposed longer, or beheld sharper, harsher injuries. Marcus, Lyra, and Calypso would see, that blood seeped below both, and their unmoving status suggested other harsher circumstances. With a shake of his head, Zuriel was beside both, lowering her horn to start healing mangled portions. We need to warm them up (and quickly) Deimos suggested again, well before the thought of moving them. If the unicorn could concentrate on the mending, or if Lyra wanted to grab her ring…
Then there was a noise, hovering about the snow some yards away. His ears twitched back and forth, head shooting straight up as he leaned into Rhyver’s form, brows furrowing. Marcus, can you see what that is? From the skies, preferably, keeping himself out of danger and alarm, and ensuring they weren’t lingering amidst an impending trap either – there was a reason they’d all been so battered.
--
Heal, lend warmth, or go check out the nearby noise!
don't talk 'bout me like how you might know how i feel top of the world, but your world isn't real
They descend and Caly commits these new names to memory as she sees the blood painting the pale snow. Huddled in as they are, she drops back down to the snow and shifts back into her tide jaguar shift, pressing in against them alongside Deimos and Zuriel’s healing. Got it. She hums, putting her focus into trying to inject them with more warmth.
As the warning comes out, her ears twitch and her head tilts toward the sky, searching for Marcus whom might presumably be the one to go and scout – she figures her shift is a good one for helping to warm their bodies until they can get on the sled and warmed up too.
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
While the others descended to the hunters, Marcus let the bond stretch thin and turned his attention toward the disturbance that had brushed the edge of his awareness, a sound Deimos also pinpointed.
He angled away from the rescue site, wings beating once before settling into a quiet glide. The tundra below rolled in pale swells. Marcus listened as much as he watched, letting the sound guide him rather than sight alone.
Marcus dipped lower, feathers tightening against a crosscurrent that tried to shove him off course. He watched for motion, keen eyes peeled and his ears focusing despite the way the winds howled against the tundra.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
The team moves out, slowly approaching two prone figures in the snow. As they grow nearer, Lyra can smell blood - stronger than that at their first stopping point, which she assumes means that there is more of it. Uneasy on the sled with Bucket, she nonetheless waits until it slides to a stop to hop down and assess the situation herself. These two look to be in much more dire straits, and Lyra grimly grabs her bag in her mouth again before hopping down to move hastily between the two.
She's never tried to use her ring in animal form, but if ever there was a time to try, it is now. So, snuffling about in the bag until she finds the little pouch she's placed it in, she paws and digs at the bag until it opens and the ring - and the chain that it's on - comes spilling out onto the icy ground. Then she snags the chain in her teeth and begins to tend to whomever seems to have the most blood loss.
---
Lyra tries to use her healing ring on whoever is most injured.
Healing Ring | A golden ring capable of delivering healing via touch.
Type: Light | Style: Other | Level: Upgraded | Cost: Action
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
Marcus, ever the seeker in these pursuits, drifted amidst the difficult terrain, peering through brushes of snow and wind, struggling to find the potential source of the sound. Just when it seemed that perhaps they were all hearing things, two individuals seemed to unfurl from the Siberian haze, one more distinct than the other. The first was a limping luxere, the glow of its horns providing the angle in which Marcus could see further – led (barely) by a tripping, falling person – the younger hybrid would know him too – Dom Pears. Both seemed a little worse for wear, but carrying on; Dom’s nose appeared to be frostbitten at the very least.
Meanwhile, mending and patching and healing persisted amidst the warmth of hellhounds, Lyra, and Calypso enough to rouse the two – starting to blink and mumble incoherently. Knowing time was of the essence, and they’d done as much as they could here, the Sword sighed. Carefully put them on the sled too. There’d be some unfortunate dragging amongst the soldiers and animals, but he snagged at the sled to get closer access, Bucket extending a hand as well from his current perch.
--
Marcus has one our last hunter and their luxere! Help load the other two onto the sled with Bucket.
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
The tundra final;y unfolded enough for Marcus to see the bodies pulling themselves across the snow. Relief came sharp and immediate when the haze thinned enough for recognition. The glow of the luxere’s antlers cut a fragile path through the white, and with it, stumbling, was Dom.
He called across the attuned bond to all — Deimos, Lyra, and @Calyspo hearing who he had found. Then he lowered towards the tundra, beak clacking and cerulean eyes urging Dom to follow him towards the rest of the rescue crew. Turning in the sky before Dom, he surged forward with a powerful sweep of his wings. He led him towards the others, taking it at his pace until they were all united again.
Then, Marcus climbed just enough to widen his vantage and began charting the safest return line toward the Citadel. He kept pace ahead of them, circling back often, a vigilant shadow in the sky ensuring their path home stayed as clear as the tundra would allow.
Marcus tries to lead Dom towards the others and then begins scouting their return to the Citadel.
don't talk 'bout me like how you might know how i feel top of the world, but your world isn't real
Working together as a team, they all try to inject warmth into the two hunters – and Caly, not minding if she’s used as a means of support to try and get them to where they can get closer to the sled as Deimos brings it in, starts to help get the hunter closest to her settled in the sled. It takes work, the gentle nudging amidst the incoherent mumbling and slow blinking, but she continues on.
The hunter she’s closest to is very carefully nudged and led to the edge of the sled beside Bucket, lowered onto it with help, and with a bit of tugging with her maw very carefully, she starts to wrap her hunter in another blanket to try and start keeping them warm. Then, she turns her attention to see how Lyra is doing and how she might be able to lend some assistance.
Caly gets the hunter closest to her on the sled and helps Lyra if needed!
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Fortunately, in this circumstance, it appears that their party has arrived just in time. With the combined magic of Lyra's ring and Deimos's unicorn, the two hunters begin to stir in the snow. Though still weak, they are alive, and that is all that Lyra can ask. She carefully drops her ring back into her pack, sure to pack it as best she can in this form - next time she's wearing it on a chain around her neck, so that she doesn't have to worry about it getting lost - and then begins to help the hunter closest to her to the sled.
By the time Calypso turns to her, the Newfoundland is assisting her hunter into the sled on Bucket's other side. Then, assuming that Deimos will be able to carry the weight of all of them, but not wishing to be rude by simply hopping up, she asks, I can hop up to try and lend some warmth, if it's not too much trouble to pull us all. And then, while waiting for a response, she notes Marcus 's call and feels a surge of relief. That's all four hunters accounted for.
---
Lyra helps a hunter onto the sled, then asks if she should hop up to help warm them up.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
Dom, quite cold and shivering despite the many layers, looked blankly at the bird flying around and before him. When Marcus simply wouldn’t go away, it seemed to trigger something in his brain, because he shrugged, silent as the grave, ambling forward to follow after the Attuned. The luxere, perhaps more inclined towards thought, directed him along, pushing the man at his back.
Deimos nodded at Lyra, fine that she would want to preside and provide warmth, but now he’d be hauling four individuals. Coming your way, Marcus before he glanced at Calypso, half snorting and the other half apologetic. Want to help me haul? He’d be carrying the brunt of it, but gave her room at the rope to take between her teeth and start moving towards Dom, Marcus, and the luxere.
Their arrival didn’t take long, thankfully, and they could dispatch with the usual routine by now. Zuriel ambled towards both individuals, and they could tend to the ones on the sled, or assist in ensuring Dom was mended and capable of future movement.
--
Last round! Help/mend Dom and the luxere, provide warmth to those in the sled, or scout to mark the way out!
a silent film he'd watched a thousand times before
Relief came for Marcus all at once, warm surging through his body like plunging beneath the waters of the hotsprings. One by one the missing had been found: injured, frostbitten, shaken, yet breathing. The tundra had not claimed them today. The eagle let a cry of victory spread across the tundra, a pride within it that could not be shaken.
Marcus rode a steady current ahead of the small procession, wings extended wide to conserve strength. Below him, the hunters moved in uneven lines toward the Citadel, supported by companions and soldiers and tucked tight in the sled. He knew the worst of it could be resolved once they got the Citadel, but they were stable now. Up here, his task remained simple.
He swept forward along their route, scanning for threats that might shadow the vulnerable group. His sharp eyes traced for movement, watched for the low, rolling shapes that might signal predators trailing from a distance. He mapped the wind as carefully as the land, adjusting the chosen path to keep them within natural breaks where the gusts would strike less brutally.
