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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 came down in a fine, needling curtain over the Greenwing. It was soft enough not to blind them, steady enough to soak through fabrics. In Halo, rain was rarely warm; it carried the edge of ice even when it did not freeze. It slicked the rocks, darkened the moss, and filled the air with the clean, metallic scent of wet stone. Noah was covered in an oiled cloak with wool underneath, and he had given both Lyra and Nova a similar one. He was glad to have snagged Safrin’s daughter for this hunt, as she had come to the Lodge to see the shrine she had made all set up and in action.
Having readied them before leaving the Lodge, each of them had a hunting pack with basics inside: a length of rope, knives for gutting and skinning, small rations of dried meats and berries, and a flask of water. Noah paused at the edge of a rise, scanning the valley below. The Greenwing stretched out in muted shades of grey and deep pine, the usual sharp lines blurred by drifting mist. He drew in a slow breath, then another, letting the rain settle on his lashes without flinching. “This is good weather.” He said to both of them. “Prey relax in it. They think it hides them.”
He turned for a moment to them, then crouched. He motioned for them to follow suit. ”We’ll be going after some luxere today. I’ve been scouting a small herd of does that roams in and out of here, and its the rut now.” He said, pausing in turn to look at each of them. ”That means bucks will be moving and pushing the does.” He took in another breath and rested his forearms on his knees. ”What should we do first?”
Welcome to the hunting Pq! On the agenda is to hunt luxere!
The Greenwing is beautiful, even in the fine, needling rain that falls around them. Pine trees tower overhead; ferns and grasses run rampant beneath their feet. It's fertile here - far more so than Lyra has imagined of the tundra in the past - and she can understand why it is the place that Noah has chosen to build his Lodge.
The woman stands with Noah and Nova, covered in an oiled cloak that the rain slides right off of. She's dressed warmly beneath - too warmly, perhaps, but if they end up caught out at night, she wants to be prepared for the frigid temperatures sure to come. Her hair is tied back into a single plait beneath the hood of her cloak, and her pack contains more than the bare necessities provided by Noah. She's tried to come prepared as best she can, though her supplies are likely more suited to search and rescue than hunting.
"Do we prefer bucks to does?" Lyra asks, tilting her head to one side and hoping that this isn't a stupid question. "Are luxere easy to hunt with traps, or...?" Because if so, and Noah had been tracking them, perhaps they could set something up where they knew their prey would come through.
Although delighted to see how her mom had perfected the shrine, Nova did not like the giant cloak Noah handed her. It was drab and brown and ugly - all the things she hated to wear - but when she refused to put it on, she quickly understood its purpose. It wasn't until she was miserable and nearly drenched to the bone that Nova caved. She slid the wool over her bright - and completely soaking wet - clothes, grumbling about how sad it was that no one would be able to appreciate the cute birds she'd sewn into her sweater, or the fact that she looked like a fat ursur wearing all the gear. Hint: most girls would prefer not to look like fat ursurs.
Moving to crouch next to Noah and Lyra (who she had been very happy to see again) in a mound of material, her nose wrinkled with distaste, disbelieving that animals liked this weather. "But it's wet." Her hair seemed to agree, damp strands of blonde falling into her disappointed face.
But then she was suddenly distracted by the details Noah laid out before them, her eyes flashing so bright that they might have been physical stars. "OOOH!! I love luxere hunting!!" It was bold to say when she'd only been once, but she'd had fun regardless and she bounced in her crouched position to add, "We should make a lot of noise and split them up!"
He looked first to Lyra, giving her question the weight it deserved. “Good,” he said, ”that’s the right place to start.” His gaze shifted toward the tree line over the mound. “We don’t prefer one over the other without reason. In rut, bucks are aggressive. They’re distracted by their hormones. That can make them easier but it also makes them dangerous.” His eyes flicked back to her, and he had to push down his own stag within his chest. “We take what the land gives. Today, if a buck presents himself safely, we’ll consider it. If not, we don’t force it.” As for traps, he shook his head once. “Not for luxere.” At least, not traditionally. Noah had used many forms of traps for luxere in the past, including using himself in shifted form to divide a herd and draw apart the ones they wanted to bring down.
Then he turned to Nova. Noah did not sigh, though something close to it pressed at the back of his throat. Instead, he was patient as the rain stitched the forest together in silver thread. Her enthusiasm almost pulled a smile from him, but he kept his expression steady. Fatherhood had toned the hunter’s patience even deeper and further, a deep well made over time. “If we make a lot of noise they’ll run. And when luxere run in rut, they panic.” He shifted his weight slightly, lowering his voice. “A panicked herd can trample you. Or draw predators.”
He leaned forward, brushing rainwater from a half-disturbed track. “First, we listen. Or scent. But not with your ears alone, if yo can.” His eyes lifted between them. “We do not chase.” He relayed. “We position. We let instinct tell us where they will step next.”
Round 1! With either a shift or partial shift, listen for or try to scent out the herd!
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Lyra listens intently, taking the information provided and filing it neatly away in her mind. She is no hunter, not really, so she will learn what she can as they go along today. At least she's always been good at learning on the job. She admires the way Noah speaks about taking what the land gives; it makes her feel like he's truly connected to it in a way that she always tries to be. That even if their hunt comes up empty-handed, it won't really be a failure.
Nova 's thought garners a patient explanation from Noah, and the idea that had sounded good to Lyra at first glance now seems inadvisable. And then they are instructed to use their senses, which makes Lyra perk up. She has been enjoying getting to know her shift and her abilities, and it takes her just a moment to decide to shift.
The added benefit of her shift is that it provides warmth and protection, to a degree, from the damp weather. It takes but a moment for her to make the change, and then she stands before the other two, tail wagging briefly as she waits for them to use whatever abilities are at their disposal. Then she begins to sniff, and listen, casting around the tracks to try and get as much of a scent trail as possible.
---
Lyra shifts into a Newfoundland dog and begins to scent the tracks, trying to find a scent trail.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
The softness of his scold didn't dampen the disappointment of having her idea dismissed. Nova's face twisted into a pout, arms folding defensively across her chest as she muttered under her breath, "It's what me and Sah did..." She'd scared the luxere straight into his grasps to finish off. Maybe that had only been one, but she didn't see why the strategy couldn't work here, especially since she was so much stronger than she'd been then. Noah's plan sounded boring and tedious.
Letting out a small huff of breath, Nova figured she'd find her own way to make the hunting fun. So when Noah suggested they seek with their senses, she was immediately shifting. Velvety black fur rippled, rainbow rosettes appearing like colorful starlight across a midnight sky. Gone was the drab brown cloak, traded for claws and glowing galaxies that shimmered when she hopped to her feet.
I'll go this way! she exclaimed through the bond. Energy permeated through, excitement bright in her mind as she bounded towards a small copse of green trees in search of any luxere-like scents or sounds.
Nova shifts into her tide jaguar and trots away in search of luxeres!
Noah watched Lyra shift first, the transformation quick and already practiced. He could tell she was eager, already lowering her nose to the damp earth. Good, he thought. Instinct working alongside discipline, which he knew Lyra carried in spades. Nova was another matter entirely. The sudden flare of her mind through the Attuned bond burst bright and chaotic as she shifted and bounded away. Noah’s gaze followed the flash of starlit rosettes disappearing toward the copse of trees, his brow tightening slightly. He did not call her back, though. Some lessons came faster when the forest answered them.
Still crouched, he inhaled slowly, filling his lungs with the cold, rain-heavy air. Beneath the scent of wet pine and dark soil there it was, faint but unmistakable. Luxere. He shifted along with them, his massive polar bear form following behind them. The world sharpened through scent. The trail unfolded clearly now and as he lifted his eyes he saw that Lyra was already locked in on the scent, picking it up in the damp soil despite her lack of time in Halo.
Good job, Lyra. This way, his voice rumbled through the bond, voice pulling far enough to rein Nova in. For the way she chose did not give way to any distinct luxere scent. He moved forward at a measured pace, massive paws quiet despite their size. His nose swept low across brush and earth, occasionally lifting to test the drifting air. The herd was not far, but as they followed the trail it suddenly split. Noah stopped, and sent out his question: Which way should we go?
Round 2! The dice have spoken and Lyra picked up on a trail, but the trail split — which way should they go?
Apparently, luxere didn't like trees, because she didn't immediately pick up on any sights or smells. She trotted around the tree line, but all she found were rocks and puddles, nothing that interested her eager mind or twitching nose. Her muzzle was low to the ground - inspecting a spot that she thought might be a track - when Noah's voice rang out.
Nova raised her head, ears rotating like she might hear him better through the bond. Turning, she sped to join them, curiously sniffing to see what they'd found. Although annoyed her own ventures had resulted in nothing, she was quick to hop on the trail, adding her own input for the split in their path. Let's go left!
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Instinct is strong for Lyra in this form, perhaps because she only has one shift with which to attune herself (haha attune get it). She lowers her muzzle to the ground and begins to sift through the many scents of the forest. Beneath the damp soil and sharp pine sap, she finds something musky and foreign. Perhaps that is luxere.
It seems that she is correct, and she feels a swell of pride at Noah's praise. Still, the work is not yet done, and she plods steadily along after the polar bear, following her nose until the trail splits. She ranges a few steps to the left, taking in the scents; then she repeats the process on the right. When she returns to sit briefly in the dirt beside Nova, she cocks her head to one side. I can't tell if there's a difference in the trails, she admits. So, all things equal, left sounds good to me. And perhaps, if they are wrong, there is a learning experience in the mistake.
---
Lyra agrees with left!
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
when the night is at its darkest, in the quiet of your heart you will know
Noah held still while the rain slid quietly over the thick fur along his shoulders. The Greenwing breathed around them, the wind through pine needles, water tapping softly against leaves, the distant creak of branches shifting under their own weight. It was bone chilling cold in this rain, with distant screams and cries in the sky above, and Noah was thankful they each had a shift to keep them warm as they hunted.
Through the Attuned bond, their thoughts turn toward the same direction — left. His great head lifted slightly, nostrils widening as he pulled the air in again. The scent there was strong. The trail had been pressed deeper into the wet ground, hooves cutting clear crescents through the softening soil. Yes. his voice rumbled through the bond, steady and approving. Good choice. He stepped forward first, massive paws settling carefully into the mud somehow without breaking the quiet of the forest.
A few strides later he slowed and turned his head to both. Listen carefully. He lowered his muzzle again, following the track but keeping his pace deliberate. Luxere will not wait politely for us to arrive, he continued, the bond carrying his calm instruction with both words and feeling. When we see them, we do not hesitate.
His gaze flicked briefly toward Lyra’s newfoundland form, then toward the distant spark of Nova’s star-pelted leopard. Split their focus. Lyra push, Nova intercept. His claws pressed deeper into the earth as he moved, already reading the ground ahead. Do not chase the whole herd. The Sentinel warned. Choose one. And as they moved, they would see the signs of three does in the distance.
Glad everyone finally seemed to be following her lead, Nova trotted happily towards the left, tail waving proudly behind her. She only slowed when Noah called again, having enough sense not to scare away the prey now that they're close. Still, she couldn't completely contain the excitement. Her paws shuffled silently in the mud, tail flicking impatiently behind her as the plan unfolded.
'Intercepting.' She could do that.
Nodding her head, Nova twitched her ears and started moving. I got it! She recalled some of what Sah had taught her, raising her nose to the wind to see which direction it was moving, then made sure it was blowing towards her so they wouldn't catch her scent. Without the snow, her black coat blended in better than before and she moved her way stealthily into a place where she could see the luxere, more than ready to leap out when Lyra got them moving
Nova moves into position upwind, then waits for Lyra to push the luxere so she can intercept the one who separates from the others.
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
Later, Lyra will have to ask for lessons on how to read the environment as easily as Noah. For now, though, she and Nova have chosen the correct path, and so they set out again, following the luxere herd by scent alone until they are close enough to begin their hunt. Noah's instructions are quickly memorized and taken to heart, Lyra noting her specific role and nodding. Understood, she says, her tone serious, but her eyes sparkling with excitement. She might not be quite as eager as Nova to get moving, but she's still pleased to be so close to their prey.
She keeps an eye on Nova, circling around the opposite way to try and get behind the herd in order to drive them towards the tide jaguar. She worries less about her scent, seeing as she's trying to push the herd instead of concealing herself amongst the trees and brush. Still, she moves quickly and efficiently, trying to be as quiet as possible until she's certain that Nova has had enough time to get into position. Then, she bursts forth toward the luxere, hoping to drive them towards Nova, and happy to follow the girl's lead in selecting one to chase.
---
Lyra pushes the luxere and will follow Nova's lead in selecting the one to chase.
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
when the night is at its darkest, in the quiet of your heart you will know
The shift in the wind came first. Noah felt it before he was able to relay it to his comrades, a subtle turn in the cold air that carried their scent forward through the trees. His massive head lifted slightly, dark nose working as the rain drifted across his muzzle. The forest seemed to pause around them for a breath, the steady hush of rainfall broken by a sudden crack of hooves. Through the brush ahead the luxere burst from cover in a flash of pale bodies and branching antlers, their warm musk flooding the air as panic surged through the small herd. They had caught the scent of predator — of all three of them — and instinct took over.
They’ve scented us, Noah warned through the Attuned bond. The herd scattered immediately. One doe veered hard to the right, tail flashing as she bounded downslope between slick pines. Another wheeled left, hooves churning mud as she drove toward thicker brush where the undergrowth would swallow her from sight. The third bolted straight ahead before cutting sharply between two fallen trunks, her body quick and light as she tried to vanish into the grey-green forest with her luminescent antlers.
This was the moment where hunts were truly decided, not by perfect plans, but by fast instinct and commitment. Pick one! While chasing down the luxere was not his first choice, this was the hand they had been dealt, and as three predators it as an instinct they could lean into.
Round 4! The herd has scattered! What will they do?
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the moon and to Saturn
The three deer scatter, and Lyra bounds into pursuit, relying on instinct rather than logic to guide her now. One swerves to the left towards thicker brush that would be difficult to traverse, even as a dog; another goes right, bounding between slick pines. The final doe runs straight, trying to disappear into the woods between two fallen trunks. Lyra goes straight. Later, she might reason that the pines to the right might make the ground slick and difficult to run on, particularly if the luxere makes tight turns; but in this moment, it it pure instinct that drives her forward.
Sprinting after the doe, she tries to veer slightly to one side, hoping that doing so will herd the luxere towards where Nova waits. If she's lucky, the deer have only realized there are two of them. Perhaps Nova can still take this doe by surprise.
---
Lyra chases the deer that goes straight!
Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
