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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!
Noah’s warning look faded beneath her irreverence, replaced by something far more dangerous: a grin, visible even through maw and flame, in the crinkling of his glacier eyes. If she was going to be willfully impossible, then so be it. The sky could handle a little more spectacle. He took a deep breath. He climbed sharply, wings beating hard enough to send rolling currents through the air. Sila’s challenge was met with a delighted, answering rumble, and he spiraled upward with her, white feathers flashing against blue. At the apex of the turn he drew in another deep, powerful breath, heat building until it thrummed through his chest and along the base of his throat.
Then he let it go.
Fire erupted, not in a single plume but in a series of pulsing bursts, each timed with the beat of his wings. He snapped his head side to side, sending arcs of flame curling and crossing, sketching molten sigils across the open sky. One stream twisted into a corkscrew, another flared wide and flat like a burning banner, the two intersecting before dissolving into glittering embers that winked out long before they could fall.
A sound like laughter rolled from him, deep and unrestrained, the sheer joy of motion and power and heat spilling free. He dove, then pulled up hard, releasing a final blast that fanned out above him like a crown, backlighting his vast form in gold and white. For a heartbeat, he was a living constellation of fire and feather. Even in his joyful abandon, though, his control never wavered.
He leveled out near the Firecracker once more, wings spreading wide. The last wisps of smoke and heat drifted past the sails, warm but harmless, carrying with them the echo of his exhilaration, and he looked to the Honeybee with an expression that said: is tht all you've got?
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
She watched, brow arched, as the griffin seemed to revert back to something actually fun and not so overbearingly grumpy; plumes of fire stretching and unraveling, flares of potential assaults and extensions of conflagrations bursting through the sky. She gave another round of applause, because it was impressive, and Melita always had more aspirations of power. She’d like to be able to unravel more than just a fire arrow at any distinction. She wanted infernos and tempests, storms rattling beneath her clutches.
At his challenge, her eyes narrowed, a haughty look commanding along her features as she angled her nose upwards. Sila responded in kind, twirling upside down and side to side with ravenous delight, spreading her leathery wings across her modest banner and loosening her own embers – they rallied midair in her favored splendor.
Melita meanwhile, ventured and motioned towards her cannons situated along the ship, already pulling at the lines. Instead of a loud shot, it inevitably sounded like pop rocks, and then cast a ten foot implosion – before falling to the sea below.
The sharp, crackling pop and the sudden implosion in the air snapped Noah’s attention from play to pure, focused interest. His wings stilled mid-beat as he watched the disturbance ripple outward, felt the pressure change even from where he hovered. Well, that was new to him.
Curiosity kindled brighter than the flames he’d just thrown, somewhere deep within him the ingrained feline instinct prickling. Angling closer to the Firecracker, the vast white bulk of the griffin folded inward until the great wings were the only part of the beast that remained. A heartbeat later, Noah descended in his half-shift, then fully human, boots finding the deck of the Firecracker with a solid thud as he grabbed the railing to steady him.
He straightened and looked to the cannons with open, unguarded fascination. "Ludo make those for you?" His glacier eyes lifted to Melita, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Or the Gilded Market?"
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Preening at his notice of said cannons, she remained in her chaotic endeavors, unfurling another bout as it sizzled and popped, then forced the armament to blast its containments into the sea, jettisoning outward and making a pleasant and loud splash below. She hadn’t expected him to alter and change again, nor come towards the Firecracker, and before long, he settled onto her deck; which rankled down her spine and nettled, thorned, but she couldn’t exactly discern why it irritated her suddenly. Tempestuous leagues of mercurial ambitions, toiling with one another often.
Very much granting a get-off-my-ship kind of look, a haughty movement of her eyes and jaw, her brow arched at the question – maybe partially offended that he didn’t grant her herald all the credit on initial balances. “Ludo,” she remarked with a grin, proud and deliberate – the only Gilded Market portions she had on hand was Iskra. Head tilting, because she was curious about the griffin fire breathing gambit, she proffered back. “Vi give you that shift?”
Noah was oblivious in the moment of mirth, but he wasn’t one to stay stupid. Having been born and raised on the tundra, the hunter was incredibly observant. He didn’t miss the way Melita’s face contorted and she looked at him with steely eyes. The grin on his face softened, then faded, not vanishing entirely but settling into something more measured. He shifted his weight, easing back a half-step from the cannons and the rail alike, hands lifting palm up in a placating gesture. The Firecracker was her space. He should have asked.
His wings emerged again, the partial-shift showing the demigod before him that he did not intent to take over her ship. At her answer, his mouth curved again and he glanced back at the cannons with renewed appreciation. “Ludo has a way of making things that look like toys until they ruin someone’s day.” He remembered the relic that the herald had made, and how he and the others had tried to get it and it took a whimsical and childlike touch to win it in the end.
Her follow up question drew his attention fully back to her. The name landed with weight like iron sinking in his belly. Noah’s posture shifted to something steadier, like bracing against a familiar wind. He nodded, though, trying to keep the feathering of his jaw subtle. Silence hovered for a second, filled only by the creak of the ship and the distant wash of the sea. He cleared his throat, ”Those cannons are really impressive.”
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
He took her warnings in keen, swift movements, and she granted herself a smug outlook on threatening processes. It inflated her ego at the very least, causing her to lift her chin even higher on her emboldened sanctity – audaciously preening on an inward scruple. Opting to load the cannon again, with some more firepower at this interval, she loosened the threads and shot the blast – sparks and embers flew – and the sound of the pop rocks descended into fodder and sea below.
His remark wasn’t taken with any sort of offense; instead she grinned, Cheshire and deranged. “I know! Isn’t it great?” Granted, probably not for the intended victim – but if she’d learned anything, if she and Ludo were having a great time, then it was going well.
She didn’t miss the alteration in his posture though, this time, and her brow arched as he seemed to stiffen. What she figured had been a simply question seemed to revolve into something else. She thought he’d be proud of the shift. She thought he’d be satisfied and amiable about it. Beneath the surface seemed to be an emotion she wasn’t going to discern, but noted in the back of her mind was avoidant and weird.
But she let it roll off her shoulders, gaze following Sila as she twirled downward like she was following the cannon shot. “Thank you. I’ll get them improved upon eventually, and then they can have more range. What’re you gonna do next?”
Noah listened to the blast roll without flinching. The echo lingered in the open air, sharp and satisfying, and despite himself a low huff of amusement escaped him. "More range on those and--" he let a whistle escape his lips as his eyebrows raised.
When she asked what he would do next, he made sure he didn't hesitate. The tension in his shoulders eased, but it didn’t vanish, so he shrugged as if it were nonchalant. "I think a shift where I can heal. Like a unicorn or something." Unicorn, he had decided, after being unable to heal Sohalia at the end of the battle with the memory mud behemoth. His glacier gaze lifted to Sila’s spiraling descent, tracking the dragon until she blurred into motion and sky, and for a moment the weight of other things eased—gods, gifts, and the complicated pride bound up in them.
He moved then toward the rail, wings flexing as they caught the wind. "But right now I am going to keep flying. Keep my eye out for any wildfires I might be able to help put out." He lifted himself up onto the rail and opened his wings fully, letting wind fill them before he psuhed down with immense power and lifted from the Firecracker. Staying level with the ship, Noah inclined his head to her with acknowledgment and approval (even though he knew she didn't need it).
Flexing his wings again, the air caught him in a smooth, powerful lift, and the Sentinel was off. The hunter circled the ship in a wide arc, careful not to disturb sails or rigging, glacier eyes sweeping the sea and sky alike before tilting his wings and heading back to higher skies.
