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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!
01-15-2026, 04:12 PM (This post was last modified: 01-21-2026, 09:56 AM by Thalassa.)
You are not alone
Her singing echoes into the cave, but she doesn't enter, propping herself just on the outside. The heat doesn't bother her beyond a slight heaviness in the air. The smoke is denser than usual and clogs the atmosphere, strong enough to obscure the sunlight but not the heat compounded by the rivers of lava. But Thal relaxes as if it's a cool spring breeze, lounging by the glowing stones of the Soulfire Reach.
Back leaned against the stone, she holds a bundle of smolder blossoms in her hands, tilting her head to inspect them as she takes turns placing a single finger on each petal. The contact is followed by a moment of concentration, her magic taking hold of the flower's life force. A quiet inhale pulls against that thread, the velvety red petal noticeably withering.
Thal tilts her head, watching with a morbid curiosity as her melancholy melody filters through the air. Then she moves to the next petal, ready to begin again.
The hunter wasn't sure he was in the right place, but moving throuhg the Climb seemed to be the obvious choice for him to be to gain a better understanding of the Longheat deity that was rumored to be making the season the way it was. Noah moved carefully through the Burrows until the cavern opened, a sudden, impossible bloom of light and color in the dark. His interest piqued, he cimbed down a hole in the floor until he stepped out into a larger cavern. The walls were not walls at all but a congregation of crystals, jagged like frozen flames.
He walked through the cavern of jewels and iron until he picked up the scent of another, his attuned instincts so inlaid in him he hadn't even noticed the careful shift his body had made. Noah stilled, glacier eyes scanning until he found something that didn't quite belong. In the distance, he saw just the toe of a boot from behind a formation of jagged rubies, and so he stepped forward a few paces, and cleared his throat.
Whoever it was would hopefulyl show themselves.
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
Even through the lilt of her melody, Thal could hear the quiet footfall, the soft stickiness of the cavern floor reaching her ears well before the clearing of a throat. Tension was already cording through her body, anticipating threat whether it was warranted or not, but she didn't move or react, seemingly unbothered by the potential. Her tail flicked slowly behind her, continuing her song until the rude interruption.
She pulled on another flower, feeling the energy flow into her as she called out, "You can come out. I won't bite unless I need to." And depending on who they are would determine the necessity of teeth and fangs. But for now, her blue eyes were fixed on the withering petals, blonde hair falling forward around the dark glisten of her horns.
Noah did not reach for a weapon, having several to choose from within his skin. Prickling at her words, the Sentinel stepped out from behind a low ridge of iron-veined quartz, boots peeling free of the sticky ground.
The heat here pressed close to the skin, not searing, but insistent, like a held breath. His pale eyes found her—horns catching the low light, the remnants of a flower wilting in her grasp. Even with her hair pale instead of ink blank, he knew her. “I’m not here to give you a reason,” he said evenly, "but you've never needed much prodding, from what I can remember." He said, glacier eyes narrowing on her.
His gaze flicked briefly to the crystals, to the way they pulsed, almost like a heartbeat buried in stone. Tanau’s influence lingered in every shimmer and scent of blood and heat. Had she bee nsomene else, he may have given his justification for being in such a place--but the memory of her throwing her blade towards Deimos instead made his jaw feather.
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
Sticky footfalls crept closer until she could feel a presence near her. Thal didn't immediately raise her eyes, watching intently as the flower continued to wrinkle and dull until it was nothing more than a dried echo of a smolder blossom. Twisting it in her fingers, the fragile petals cracked and fell slowly from the stem to the reddened ground.
Only then did she lift her gaze, finding a face that was vaguely familiar, the context momentarily eluding her. That didn't stop the fanged grin, the mischievous glint in her blue eyes unmistakable. "You're not wrong." Although it made her wonder what she might have done to prove that point to him, which impulsive situation he'd have witnessed.
Her head tilted, veiling the lack of recognition as she took in his form. The blonde hair and striking blue eyes narrowed down at her began to stir something; shouting and chaos and Void-filled anger that she hadn't thought of in some time. It was another memory she'd suppressed, a point in her infection when she'd been so infatuated that she'd have taken on the entirety of Caido to keep Pierce safe. It wasn't her proudest moment, but she didn't let it show beyond the smallest flicker of unease behind her eyes, disguised by the saccharin sweet smile on her lips. "I don't think I got a chance to repay you for the boot to my face."
The crystals chimed faintly as he shifted his weight. His jaw feathered again, inwardly contemplating whether or not to just thumb the compass in his pocket and leave, but leaving now would mean carrying only questions back into the cold. He could feel the partial shift along the nape of his neck, a mix of white feathers and fur starting to prickle beneath his collar. He could feel the shifts within him, brushing and pushing and roaring at each other for a chance to be released.
He breathed out.
His eyes tracked the fallen petals at her feet. "Funny place to run into old debts." Noah murmured again through his tightened jaw, eyes lifting to hold her in his glacial stare, measuring. If you had asked Noah in his younger days if he were ont to keep a grudge he would have said no, but looking down now at her mischevious smile and the glint of her fangs brought a roiling from within him that would argue -- and win -- against the statement.
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
Her grin turned crooked, adding to the sharpness that played there, like a knife tip balancing precariously between them. She was deceptively casual with how she rose, even breaking eye contact as if there was no threat of a fight breaking out between them. Her tail moved in an elegant pattern behind her, petals falling to the ground where her eyes followed, a morbid display of beauty and delicate angles. Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, her lyrical tone echoed towards the cave. "Seems like the perfect place to me." No witnesses, a stifling heat that few others could tolerate, and a cruel magic thrumming in her veins.
Now standing, she met his gaze for the briefest of moments, giving nothing away in their stormy depths. The tension of her body was almost natural, an unassuming stance that doesn't hint at the coiling beneath. Without the flash of her fangs and the bite of her words, there was little reason to suspect her attack before it came.
But then she was lunging forward, quick feet closing the distance in an attempt to punch her fist into his face, where she can siphon off a little of his life force.
1/4 Thal tries to punch Noah in the face, using the contact to activate her Siphon magic.
The lunge came fast—too fast for hesitation, too fast for restraint to fully settle. Instinct took over. Noah shifted his weight just enough, boots tearing free of the sticky ground. Her fist grazed his jaw instead of breaking it, knuckles scraping skin. It wasn’t the impact that made his heat skip a beat.
Magic brushed him, slick and invasive, a siphoning pull that tugged at something deeper than flesh. It was not enough to weaken him, but enough for his attuned instincts to surge like hurricane waves against the shore of his soul. The sensation crawled along his nerves, and the partial shift along his nape surged in answer with feathers and fur bristling, a low, animal warning rumbling just beneath his ribs.
Noah growled, flashing a warning snarl with his own fanged teeth, and brought his hands up without drawing steel. Using the press of his larger frame, the Sentinel shoved at Thalassa. The push was deliberate and controlled, intentioned with enough force to break her momentum, to put space between teeth and throat and draining touch. But he held his ground, breathing hard, every shift within him straining for release.
1/4 - Thal scrapes his jawline and Noah tries to shove her away
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
Satisfaction laced through her at the contact. Skin brushed skin, the magic jumping over the bridge to grab at his energy. It flowed into her, ripped from him to fuel her, just enough to send her heart racing, exhilaration sparking through her eyes.
It wasn't close to a boot to the face, but it was a good start.
When his hands rose to push her away, Thal knew there was no avoiding it. She'd caught him off guard with the first attack, but the growl told her it wouldn't be so easy the second time, not as his power pushed through her shoulders. While preparing to brace for the fall, she focused on the bridge he'd crossed again, using the contact to pull at his life force as she moved backwards.
It proved harder than she thought, and her divided attention earned a grunt as her body came in solid contact with the sticky ground. Gritting her teeth, Thal didn't let the ache of her backside slow her, twisting to send a kick towards his feet, trying again to focus on any contact for her magic to latch onto.
2/4 Thal falls backward but uses her Siphon magic during the brief contact. Then she moved to swipe his feet, still using her magic for any successful contact.
The attuned felt his shifts roil again within him as the he and the ancient tussled, her magic siphoning energy from him that made his jaw tighten. His griffin would tear the space apart with wings and talons meant for sky and open tundra, not a living altar that pressed in on all sides. His other shifts were not meant for the message he needed to send. But her kick skimmed close enough that instinct finally snapped its teeth around restraint. Noah rocked back a half-step, boots scraping.
The choice came like the dropping of the Citadel gates.
His body answered.
Bone and muscle rolled beneath skin, the hutner surging into something wholly terrifying and undeniable. From skin fur burst white and dense, swallowing scars as his frame widened and dropped, mass redistributing and expanding. He landed heavily on all fours, claws biting into the sticky ground. Even on all fours he was towering. Parting his jaws, he roared. It was not sound alone but force -- a thunderous, chest-rattling bellow that rolled through the jewels and iron, through blood and heat.
This was warning made flesh.
Noah surged forward, massive paws slamming into the ground as he barreled toward her. The rush of air alone was violent, meant to drive the message home. His presence filled the space, eclipsed subtlety entirely, a wall of white fury and a restrained force that dared her to test it further. Breath thundered from his lungs, eyes bright and unblinking, fixed on her with primal authority.
He snapped powerful jaws toward her, and some merciful part of him hoped she was able to scurry away and run back to some other part of safety in the climb, while the more primal, pulsing part of him wanted to rip her arm off.
2/4 -- Noah shifts into a polar bear and charges, trying to bite her.
She managed to make it to her feet just as the shift happened, a small curse muttering beneath her breath. Without using her other abilities, she wasn't sure how smart it had been to pick this fight, especially as she raised an arm and squinted her eyes against the saliva and deafening sound being thrown in her face.
It was just the moment she moved to lower her arm that he lunged, large fangs dripping and gleaming, ready to latch onto Thal. Instinct screamed at her to dart, to shift, to do something other than rely on just her two feet, but Dygra had been clear that she had to fight with only her siphon magic, and she was determined not to disappoint her goddess on the matter.
But that confidence might have cost her.
Teeth ripped through skin, her dodging movement dragging her arm free in a mess of blood that splattered against her face and the sticky floor around them. A blood-curdling scream tore from her chest as pain seared through her body, bright and excruciating pain radiating from the missing flesh of her forearm. She cradled it close, teeth clenched against the only kind of burn that could hurt her, the one she dared not look at in case the damage distracted her from the fight.
What she could see and feel of the damage washed her vision in red as she stumbled to the side, reaching out a hand in a blind attempt to pull more from him, hoping it might dampen some of the gushing blood or the overwhelming pulse of pain with every movement.
3/4 Noah's bite tears flesh and Thal tries to use more siphon magic on him.
The taste of blood hit his tongue and with it came a surge of regret that lasted exactly one heartbeat, quickly burned away by the second pull of her magic as she tucked one arm and reached for him with the other. He felt the fury surge and roil, but the merciful part of him sent an iron barricade. He did not wish to kill her, no. He knew he could, but he just wanted her to run away.
Yet even wounded, she reached, and he felt it again as her fingertips brushed into his fur. Felt that invasive hook sinking past fur and flesh, clawing deep inside him. His muscles tremored with it, not from fear but from fury. It was like the drawing frrom a parasite, and it needed to stop. The polar bear answered with violence.
He swung a massive paw in a brutal arc, not a delicate strike but a hammering blow meant to break her balance and send her skidding across the sticky crystal floor. Another roar followed the strike, harsher and full of command that nearly shook the cavern with its intensity.
3/4 - Noah tries to SMACK her away with a big ole deadly-clawed paw
The blood covering her shirt was near invisible against the black, only noticeable by the glisten of moisture making the material cling to her. More noticeable was the etching of pain and rage lining her features, fangs bared against the ursur who continued to assault her. The brush of fur against her hand opened a brief flow of power, of energy, of healing that took the sharp edge from her suffering. Although it didn't stop, the blood flow staunched, the pain turning less blunt, her gaze clearing enough to see the large paw coming towards her.
She barely had time to brace, her stumbling steps failing her in the shock of blood loss. The twisting dodging momentum at least took some of the impact, her body just speeding along in its route to the ground, except for the added benefit of claws raking across her exposed back. She couldn't tell how deep they went, but it felt like they'd gone to the bone, fire lacing across her spine as she slammed face first into the ground, her brain rattling like a goldfish in a bag. Another scream was cut short, ending in a grunt of lost air.
Strength was fleeing, her focus trying to go with it. But Thal huffed a strangled breath, clenching her teeth and narrowing her eyes towards the source of her injuries, reaching out a desperate, stubborn hand in a final attempt to heal some of the wounds that began to coat the floor in her blood. She was a pathetic sight, split open and weak yet unwilling to yield as she attempted to connect her fingers with the leg closest to her, a mumbled curse muffled by the taste of copper on her tongue.
4/4 Thal takes a hard hit and lands against the wall, reaching forward to try and siphon one last time.
Thalassa went flying across the small cavern and he heard her slam against the jewel-touched wall. Noah felt the fight falter inside him. It was not from her magic this time, but from the simple, undeniable truth of the sight he turned his glacier eyes upon. She was broken open, still reaching, still trying to steal strength from the very thing that could end her.
The bear reared back instead of finishing it. The next strike he’d gathered in his shoulders dissolved before it fell. Mercy -- the sight of his patron in his mind's eye -- drove a wedge through the red haze. This was no longer a fight.
The shift rolled back through him like receding thunder. Fur withdrew into skin, bone and mass folded inward with a a shudder. The towering white bulk collapsed into the shape of him as man. Noah kicked her hand away, the faintest touch of her against him sending a small pulse of energy towards her. His jaw feathered, and his eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. Was this worth it? This shot at a revenge? “Enough.” he said, voice carrying the verdict. "Go." He did not strike again. He simply stood, planted and immovable, glacier eyes fixed on her with stern warning.
Every line of him said the same thing: he would defend himself, but he would not become her executioner.
4/4 Noah shifts back to human form and kicks her hand away but she is able to fleetingly touch him as he does.
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
