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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!
He shifted again as soon as they found ground, the hellhound paws and claws finding their purchase upon the wayward stone. He expected another chamber full of bizarre mushrooms or fragmented, purple light – not the bizarre circumstances unfurling before them.
Much like a room, the area displayed symbols amidst stone, and more than once he threaded his way towards them, gaze trying to flicker over the engraved portions to decipher the multitudes. Maybe what was more alarming was the sheer amount of them – that there had always been more than just a bigger threat below, but hordes and groups – and he had to wonder just how many of the Family they would’ve been warring against.
Cozy he remarked instead with an eye roll. His stare segmented on several of the broken ones too, pondering if they’d already met those particular individuals, risen from the earth.
The room unfurls before them and Sunjata’s equine head tilts as his ears perk, hooves clipping against the stone that’s far smoother than expected. Pillars, some broken, some still intact greet them with the rubble of everything surrounding them. Pods of a sort that appear to have held something – or someones.
Nostrils flaring, the Flood huffs a little sound of disapproval, peering through the purple light that lightens the chamber. How many of them do you think there were? He asks quietly, as if uncertain that the answer is one that he wants to hear. He pauses by an intact pod, lifting his head and peering into it to find it appearing to be empty. His wings shuffle with the light shake that races down his neck and spine, before he swings his head back toward Deimos.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Not sure I want to know he remarked in return, a long breath filtering out of hound lungs as he ghosted towards another pod; though this one was sealed. Peering through the glassy exterior though, it seemed it would be empty – taken and snagged back to wherever the Family had vanished towards. Probably to maul some other unassuming realm and world. I wonder why they did not take the whole isle with them. Why leave it in Caido? For all of them to wonder and stare and be in awe of the mystique and power? Something more sinister? Or just indifference, as if it had scarcely mattered.
He sneered at another set of indistinguishable symbols – probably otherworldly fixtures they’d never know or understand. Unless someone with a whole lot more time and ambition into parasitic dwellers got hold of it, wrote the runes down and solved. Or what these all mean. Perhaps signs of whether or not portions were ready? Or done? Finalized?
The pegasus has all kinds of bad vibes when it comes to these pods, both broken and completely sealed. Regardless of if they feel empty, the Flood is still entirely left on edge. He glances back toward the hellhound, ears hovering half forward and half pinned, as if waiting for something to jump out at them. Too much to move, maybe? He suggests with a weary kind of sigh, annoyance flickering as he steps further to find the symbols that Deimos has found.
Or maybe it’s a reminder of all the bullshit the last few years. He shakes his head, his short mane flopping to the other side of his neck as he tightens his wings in again, his uncertainty in the symbols clear as he peers over each one. Hopefully they’d never need to know what they were for.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
The questions didn’t seem to quite end, but with nothing constructive to add, they’d be left muttering out inquiries to one another, and the general masses at some point too. Whether or not anything would ever be dug out of the sanctions, rather than enigmatic quandaries remained to be seen, and he had the feeling the general public viewed Starfall much the same as they did – something to be avoided.
But yet, here they were. Perhaps, he answered, hound brows furrowing down a little further. They had crash-landed initially; it was difficult to forget the unwinding circumstances of the oceans rising and the chaos, damage, that had ensued.
Deimos snorted at Sunjata’s last statement though, paws brushing over more symbolic portions traced over the stone. Lucky us. Stark outliers across the coast. I wonder if Torchline, or anyone else, would do something regionally to get rid of it.
Sunjata can remember the day it crashed, when the sky wasn’t just the normal hues of blues and pinks and yellows when the sun began to set. It was when purple started to invade, when it was a nonstop heavy filter that overcame the entirety of Caido regardless of how close you were to Starfall. It was worse in Torchline, of course, but the fingers could be seen all the way in King’s End, reaching to claim and steal.
At least the sky seems normal, now. And they don’t have to worry about their words and thoughts being stolen by an unseen, staticky eldritch voice box. I imagine if anyone would, it’d be Torchline. At least, I feel like if I were to ask I’d be stepping on toes. Not just Flora and Hadama’s toes, but Safrin’s.
And that would be something he didn’t need more experience with.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
For Halo, Starfall had been a symbol of devastation, ruin, catastrophe, and altered lands; and the pattern hadn’t stopped there. Not when they’d defied, then pressed sedition all over again. Perhaps an emblem of their fortitude and might on top of it all, how they rose once more despite the agonizing setbacks.
And now the isle seemed to be a haunting allegory for other things.
No, and I certainly will not be asking. It’d been more of a curious front more than anything else. We will see how long it takes until we all grow tired of it. The eyesore, the reminders, the pains, pangs, and memories. Or others would treat it as a little house of horrors or nothing; unbothered and undaunted because they hadn’t been amidst the entire experience of dread and trepidation in each movement.
Sighing, he gave one last look at the room, before moving forward. All right, should be the last level after this. And whatever else had once lurked for all of them.
