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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!
The rain had started sometime before dawn. It wasn’t the clean, sharp snow Halo preferred, but a thin drizzle that glazed the world in ice and turned the air metallic. It tapped against the lodge windows in a patient, miserable rhythm as Noah moved through the main room, already awake long before the light tried to rise.
Longheat was bleeding out. He could feel it in the grain of the wood beneath his palm, in the way the hearth struggled to push back the damp. Leafchange in Halo did not arrive in gold and crimson and gentle chill. It came treacherous. He needed to prepare to take a team out and gather and hunt enough to bulk the stows of the lodge, and send compatriots home with enough for their homes and families.
He crossed to the hooks near the door and pulled down his oiled cloak to keep away th rain. He added an extra lining beneath of wool, thick enough to hold warmth even when soaked. At the long table, he laid out what he would carry. From a shelf near the hearth, he gathered dried meat and hard cheese, wrapping them in waxed cloth. A small flask of something stronger followed. Not for indulgence, but for heat, if it came to that.
He continued around the lodge, gathering supplies he would need.
The rain falls in a thin drizzle that nearly hurts the skin to stand in for too long. Lyra had come most of the way here as a Newfoundland, preferring her fur coat to being out in this miserable weather with nothing but a few layers of coats for warmth. Now, though, she's fully human, and her dark curls drop out from under her hood to cascade down in front of her shoulders. Snow pants are tucked into winter boots, and the number of layers the Torchline woman has on is, frankly, obscene. And it's not even Deepfrost yet.
Lyra raises her hand to knock and hesitates. She remembers how Noah shied away from her touch at the festival, and she wonders if coming here uninvited is an overstep, too. Still, she'd been in town, and Noah is a friend she'd like to see, so here she is. She has so much to tell him, about the search and rescue mission she participated in here in Halo. About her new abilities as an Attuned. There's so much he can tell her, too, about being Attuned and how to use these newfound abilities properly. And besides that, she likes Noah. She wants to get to know him better (and she refuses to look too closely at why that is).
So after only a moment of hesitation, Lyra knocks at the door to the lodge, hoping that Noah is home and that she hasn't come all this way for nothing.
lyra
Who could ever leave me darling... but who could stay?
The knock threaded itself through the drizzle, but Noah stilled where he stood, a coil of rope slackening slowly in his hands as his attention sharpened, his attuned senses having already been pulled to the presence at the door. He was not filled with alarm, but with the quiet, habitual awareness of a hunter who had long ago learned that the world, Halo especially, rarely announced itself twice.
For a moment he simply listened. The rain sputtered against the roof in thin, needling strokes, more ice than water. Setting te rope down, the Sentinel crossed the lodge in unhurried strides and opened the door. The cold pressed inward like an unwelcome guest, sharp and intimate. On his doorstep, however, was not an unwelcome guest. Lyra stood on the threshold wrapped in layers upon layers, as though she had tried to build a fortress out of fabric against Halo’s temper. The drizzle clung to her dark curls, each strand heavy with silver beads that caught the weak morning light like scattered frost.
“Lyra!” he said, surprised, yet aware of how her appearance and her name on his lips felt suddenly warmer than the hearth at his back. His glacier eyes moved over her with instinctive thoroughness, senses automatically taking in if she had the metallic scent of blood on her. She did not. “You’ll turn to ice if you linger there.” He said hurriedly, stepping aside and holding the door wide as a harbor gate in a storm. “Come in.”
When she crossed into the lodge, he shut the rain out behind her, sealing them inside the steady glow of firelight and woodsmoke. He searched her as she stepped through, curiousity starting to ping at his edges. ”What brings you up to Halo, and so far out here?”
As Lyra waits for the door to open, she watches the rain fall, listens to the pitter-patter of the droplets on the roof of the porch. It's all freezing, of course, which puzzles her. She's never seen such a strange phenomenon as freezing rain, not in Torchline, where the most rain they get comes from the occasional hurricane. Of course, she's never seen as much ice and snow as there is in Halo, either, but isn't that why she's come? To learn more about this strange land to the north, so that she might master it in her quest to help all of Caido?
The door opens, revealing Noah, and Lyra's heart warms as a smile leaps unbidden to her lips. "Hi, Noah," she says, wasting no time in stepping into the comfortable warmth of the lodge. "Thank you," she adds as she looks around. Noah's home is comfortable, immediately giving Lyra a sense of the man at her back. She doesn't let her gaze linger too long on her surroundings though, instead turning to gaze up at Noah's face.
"I came up to help with a search and rescue mission with Deimos," she told him. "I'm pleased to report we found all four hunters alive, and I'm told they're mending well." She lifted her hand to indicate the ring on her pointer finger. "Safrin's gifts have already proven useful - oh! That reminds me - she attuned me!" Lyra added proudly, grinning. "I only have one shift so far, but it was so helpful with finding those hunters -" And she might have continued on, but seemed to realize she was talking too much. "But, anyway, that's why I'm up here. And since I was in the area, I thought I'd take a chance and try to see you."
lyra
Who could ever leave me darling... but who could stay?
Noah listened as she spoke, and though he tried to hold his usual quiet composure, it slipped from him piece by piece the longer Lyra continued. By the time she lifted her hand and the ring caught the hearthlight in a glint of pale metal, his brows had already risen, curiosity sharpening into something brighter. ”My son Marcus was on that expedition. He’s still sleeping, actually. It took a lot out of him.” He gestured down the hallway towards where Marcus’ room was. Turning back to her, he gave a proud smile. He had been relieved to hear that they had been found, and that the backu team Deimos had formed and placed in his charge didn’t need to follow them onto the tundra.
The rest of what she had to say made him pause, glacier eyes firm on her celestial blues. For a moment he simply stared at her, surprise widening his eyes before something warmer and far more animated broke through the calm lines of his face. The reaction was immediate and unguarded, like sunlight breaking suddenly through storm clouds. "You’ve Attuned?" he asked, the question carrying a note of disbelief that melted quickly into delight.
A laugh slipped from him, and he shook his head once as though marveling at the world’s strange turns. "Lyra! That’s incredible." His gaze flicked again to the ring she had indicated, recognition dawning in the same breath she spoke Safrin’s name. That, more than anything, seemed to settle into him with a kind of reverent certainty. "And Safrin did it?" he asked, in th same tone and no less thrilled, the words carrying the quiet weight of respect. "Gods, Lyra, I’m glad. Truly."
He leaned back against the edge of the table, folding his arms loosely across his chest as the warmth of the hearth flickered across his features. There was pride there, again, not for his own accomplishment or his son’s, but the kind one felt watching a friend step into something larger. "She’s always been kind to me," Noah said after a moment, voice carrying a fondness. "Gracious. Generous, too, in ways I didn’t always deserve." His eyes returned to Lyra, bright with curiosity now. "If she chose to attune you, then she saw something worth blessing."
The smiel he had on his features broadened and started to wrinkle the corners of his eyes. So, what’s the shift? He asked, voice blooming in her mind across their newly shared attuned bond rather than said outloud.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
"Oh!" she exclaims, excitement and interest lighting her piercing gaze. "I didn't realize he was your son." Delighted by this turn of events, and recognizing the unmistakable pride on Noah's face, she adds, "He did well on the mission. I'm not sure we would have found them all if he hadn't been able to track them down from above." And help them avoid danger, like that ursur den they'd stumbled across.
Her news is met by a vibrant, animated expression that takes Lyra's breath away. Noah's face splits into a smile, its light chasing away the stoic calm that she's come to expect from her friend. It's so unexpected that she nearly misses his congratulatory response, only managing to catch the tail end. "She was incredible," Lyra agrees of Safrin. "Exactly as you say - kind, generous. It's like... she saw something in me that I didn't know existed, and yet when she brought it to light, it felt like it had been there all along."
And then his voice bloomed across the Attuned bond, sending a shiver of delight up Lyra's spine. Rather than answer aloud or via the bond because she's not a high enough level yet, the woman merely grinned. Then, as easily as breathing, she shifted, and after only a moment, she stood as a Newfoundland dog before Noah, wagging her tail and wuffing softly enough not to wake Marcus down the hall.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
The shift itself was quick. It was so natural it seemed less like a transformation and more like a truth revealing itself, and the sight of it still held him where he stood. Where Lyra had been a heartbeat before now stood a massive dog, dark fur thick and lustrous like a shadow spun from velvet. The firelight rippled across her coat in warm copper tones, and when her tail began to wag, slow and delighted, it stirred the air like the gentle sweep of a winter branch heavy with snow.
He still couldn’t remove the smile from his face, and now it wrinkled the corners of his eyes. “Well I’ll be damned.” he murmured under his breath, awe and quiet laughter threading together in his chest, a low and impressed whistle escaping pursed lips. He pushed himself away from the table and stepped closer, moving instinctively slow and respectful, the way one approached any animal, even one he knew housed the mind of a friend. The hunter in him noted the breadth of her shoulders, the powerful build meant for cold water and rough weather, the thick fur that would laugh in the face of Halo’s biting wind.
Through the Attuned bond, his voice bloomed warm and bright, threaded with unmistakable approval. That suits you. Perfectly. His glacier eyes ran over her sable fur again, before looking in her eyes. He couldn’t help but notice one other thing. A strong swimmer, built for cold water, a steady temperament. There was a hint of impressed pride in the way he cataloged the traits, like a tracker reading signs in fresh snow. But a little…warm, for Torchline, don’t you think? The Sentinel asked, warmth threading through the bond like fire through a hearth.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Noah's smile could light up a room, and Lyra offers a canine grin in response. He approaches her slowly, and she waits as he looks her over, appraising this form in a way that might have been rude had she been human, but as a dog makes perfect sense. Thank you, she replies, warmth in her tone. After all, she is rather pleased with the shift she's been gifted as well. It's perfect for what she wants, and it's everything she needs, all wrapped up into an adorable package (if she did say so herself).
Amusement threads through the bond as he makes his point, and she laughs, tail wagging. Perhaps, she says. But I haven't stayed in Torchline for more than a few days at a time in a while. Maybe Safrin knew that my work would take me all across Caido. In this form, I can be much more effective, regardless of climate. Still, there are other dog breeds that could fit the bill, so why this one? It's a question she has pondered, in the quiet moments before sleep, and has no clear answer for.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
Noah’s grin lingered easily as her voice brushed across the Attuned bond, warm with amusement and thoughtful curiosity alike. The wag of her tail stirred the air between them, and for a moment he simply watched her the way a man might watch the steady fall of snow beyond a window -- content, attentive, quietly appreciative of the moment as it unfolded.
His head tilted slightly as he considered it, the movement slow and thoughtful while the fire behind him cracked softly in the hearth. Safrin sees farther than we do. She pulled that shift from your soul. He answered through the bond, his voice carrying the certainty that colored his faith.
He reached out then, pausing just long enough to give her time to pull away if she wished before letting his hand settle briefly against the thick fur along her shoulder. It was warm and dense beneath his palm, built to hold heat against brutal wind and freezing water alike. His thumb dragged once through the heavy coat in quiet admiration before he let his hand fall again. There is no coincidence in this shift.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
The thought that this shift had been embedded in her very soul has a shiver of anticipation running through Lyra as she imagines what else Safrin might find there to reveal to her. She has her hopes, of course: a shift to allow her to take to the skies, a shift to guide her into the depths of the seas... but whatever comes next, she will accept it with thanks, for it all stems from a gift from the goddess who had seen something in her that she hadn't known existed.
But then, as she continues to consider the implications of what Noah is saying, she wonders what it is that this shift in particular reveals about her. Noah reaches out to set his hand against her shoulder, his thumb brushing once through her thick fur before it falls away. What do you mean? she asks through the bond, curiosity piqued.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
Noah felt the ripple of her curiosity through the bond the way one might feel the shift of wind across open tundra, unmistakable. Her question lingered between them, thoughtful and searching, and he took a moment before answering, his gaze resting steadily on the large dark form before him.
What I mean, is that Safrin didn’t give you something foreign. The fire cracked softly behind him, a steady rhythm against the quiet of the lodge. He shifted his weight slightly, leaning his hip back against the edge of the table as he considered how to explain it, glacier eyes thoughtful. For a man who spent most of his life tracking beasts across snow and ice, speaking about the deeper workings of souls and gods was still something he approached with careful respect.
She revealed something that was already yours. His gaze moved again over Lyra’s powerful frame—the broad chest built for endurance, the thick coat meant to withstand bitter cold and unforgiving water, the way it seemed to live naturally in the shape of her. A faint smile softened his features.
He felt he knew Lyra a little better after seeing what Safrin had revealed in her.
Lyra thinks about this for a moment, considering. If Safrin revealed something that was already there, that makes sense, but Lyra cannot fathom where this form came from. Perhaps, she thinks, it is not something she is meant to know - perhaps she is meant to trust the starry goddess and give thanks that whatever secrets lived within her soul have been revealed. I see, she says, even though she's not quite sure she does.
She shifts back, the change quick and painless, and then stands before Noah with a smile in her eyes. Maybe she doesn't understand exactly what Safrin saw in her, or the meaning behind her shift, but she does know that she doesn't wish to spend time with her friend worrying about it. "Anyway, enough about me - how have you been?" she asks, genuine interest alight in her gaze.
lyra
Who could ever leave me darling... but who could stay?
Noah watched the shift back with the same quiet attentiveness he had given the first transformation, though this time familiarity softened the edges of his curiosity. The large dark dog folded inward upon itself like mist retreating from the morning sun, and in the span of a breath Lyra stood there again, human and smiling, the warmth of her expression bright enough to rival the firelight dancing across the lodge walls.
"I've been well." Noah answered honestly, the words carrying the steady calm that had long defined him. The smile that lingered on his face softened into something more familiar—less astonished wonder and more the quiet contentment of routine. He gestured loosely with a hand toward the supplies still scattered across the table behind him: coils of rope, wrapped food, and a small pile of carefully maintained tools. "But yeah, busy, mostly."
The hearth cracked softly as he moved to gather one of the bundles he had been preparing earlier, tying the waxed cloth closed with practiced hands. "Leafchange is creeping in faster than most people realize," he continued, "and in Halo that means preparing now, or regretting it later." He glanced back toward her, "I'm heading out tomorrow to teach Safrin's daughter, Nova, some more hunting skills." A small grin returned then, easy and inviting. "You're welcome to join us, if you'd like to see more of Halo than freezing rain and my lodge."
Lyra's gaze follows Noah's gesture to land on the table behind him. An assortment of tools and wrapped food lays neatly upon the furniture. Lyra takes an intrigued step forward, wondering if she can learn anything from what Noah is packing for whatever outing he is preparing for. "I've met Nova," she says, distracted as she takes in the various tools and makes a mental note to add some to her pack.
But then, at the invitation, her head snaps up, brows raising. "I'd love to, but I've never hunted before," she says. "Won't I just slow you down?" She says it matter-of-factly, without embarrassment. She may not be a huntress, but she knows that in search and rescue, having a tagalong can be the difference between life and death for someone. She doesn't want to be a burden, not with Halo's preparedness for winter hanging in the balance.
lyra
Who could ever leave me darling... but who could stay?
