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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.
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She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
It’s been over a year since she’s been here, but as they step out into the long stretch of nothing, her memory wobbles with familiarity. It doesn’t sing home, not yet, but her heart lifts a little in her chest in a way she hasn’t felt in a while. She’d been happy, last she’d been here. Frustrated, and tired, and hot too, but happy.
She breathes it in, the fine dust, the tang of salt, the heat. It still radiates up, like there’s something molten below, but it’s just the baked ground giving all the sunshine back in spades. Dusk has long settled, the only time you can get through her, and she glances up at the starry sky without flinching, looking for navigational guides she learned a while ago.
”Too hot here usually,” she informs Zavien, their mounts plodding along with less enthusiasm for this trek. ”I mean, far too hot, compared to the rest. Not even sure there’s anything out here, to be honest, but worth scouting around.”
Help a caravan of Hak Etme natives carry their shit (injured camel) - Have engaged 5 times with the region
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
No matter where he looks, there's sand and baked dirt. Despite the occasional rainstorms this season, the Furnace lives up to its name, threatening to cook him into a ripe puddle of sweat even at night. He knows the cold will set in once the heat dissipates from the earth, but it feels like a distant possibility at the present.
Zavien wipes a sleeve across his forehead then pulls a long sip from his canteen in an attempt to stave off the dehydration that's probably already settling in his system. While he, Colt, and the horses struggle, Sol bounces and flies around the desert, scouting ahead and darting back with few signs of exertion.
His eyes squint to the horizon like he might discover that there is something out here for Colt to find, but all he sees is sand, making it hard for him to even tell which way they've come from. "Hm. This place could definitely use some roads. It'd be easy to get lost out here." A pit stop or two would also be nice. A place to stock up on water and sustenance for those forced to travel through.
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
When she’d been here last, it’d been the brink of Longheat, so this time of year is much gentler, but the heat still feels like a layer pressing on on her from every angle, even the inside when she inhales. If it is more pleasant than before, she can’t fully compare it, the stifling nature only able to conjure the idea of discomfort and none other.
Glancing across at Zavien, a faint smile flickers in past the grimace that’s otherwise permenantly set in against the land’s hospitality. She half expected he’d do this with her, easy to committ to in theory, then get here in actuality and tell her good luck while boarding the next ship out. That he’s imagining ways to change the land for the better, that blooms a cautious hope inside her.
”The maps I was looking at did seem to show the Furance here extending down the core of the land,” she recounts, glancing up into thought and memory. ”All the other parts kind of fold out from it and into the edges of the sea. So a road would serve well here. Problem is, seems like wind would just bring the sand in over whatever we put down.” A god’s touch might be needed, but with a long to-do list, and many other challenges ahead, she’d have to be mindful not to tax the dieties with all her desires.
Reaching for her canteen off the saddle, she takes a small pull, not really thirsty so much as trying to stave off the eventual drying of everything. ”Y’know, I tried to read about this place more, but there’s not a lot out there about it.” Whether it isn’t worth writing about, or no one’s bothered to come here to do it, she isn’t sure. Not that there’s nothing, but it seems like they’d need to learn a lot through trial and error, which is part of what this trek is. That, or find the few locals that dare call this place home. They’re not easy to find, wiser than them, surely, so undoubtedly tucked away into safer pockets and better crossing paths. But she knew some were out here, since it was how she’d restocked supplies last time she’d run out.
In the distance, Sol just might find exactly that.
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
"Good point," he hums, pursing his lips as he thinks of the difficult predicament of making the desert traveler friendly. At the same point, his horse's hoof sinks into the deep pit of sand, his body tilting uncomfortably far in the saddle. "Maybe signage would be enough," he wonders as he adjusts for his horse's next step. Markers rising above the sand to guide the way along with detailed maps for reference. It's a possibility for sure.
It's a surprise that there's such little information about the desert, after all, there's so much material for writing. There's sand, and sand, and some different sand over there, and if he looks really hard at the distance, he can see... more sand. What more could an author hope to write about?
Keeping his comedic thoughts to himself as not to offend Colt's new home, Zavien tries to be helpful. "Are there any local storytellers? It's possible they don't write down their history." He had always been the kind to prefer hearing history than reading about it, sneaking into taverns to listen for the stories of noble knights and harrowing battles. Perhaps the locals here feel similarly when there's such a high risk of losing their books to the elements. Voices and memories won't fade as easily as paper and ink.
A trilling sound echoes in the air above them, and Zavien looks up to Sol, feeling the vague understanding through their bond as he tells Colt, "Sol's spotted something ahead." The dragon flaps his wings then circles above a point before making his way back towards them, ready to guide the way towards his discovery.
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
What she’d found detailed some weather patterns, the flora and fauna, and the terrain in some manner of detail. As for customs, safety corridors, local trade routes and general history, that she couldn’t find much note of. For instance, not that they’re in the boneyard yet, but what once roamed here that left behind such massive remains, and does anything like it still exist?
”Someone put down travel posts like in all the other areas,” she hums in consideration, wondering what that feat must have been like back in the day, organizing fast travel, even in the areas that seemed unworthy of visiting, or maybe they were meant as a quick getaway. ”Could maybe direct people more clearly towards them, since there’s still all the hell in-between. I have found some locals at them though, with pop-up tents, trying their best to make little pockets of rest and restock. A bit hit or miss at times, I’m sure because there needs to be better element protection.” Heat, sandstorms, lack of water. Especially this stretch, it’s the worst of desert, in her opinion. It’s certainly like picking a better awful, and at least this has no mind tricks or toxins, but the raw nothing and the unending heat, it still fucks with you by dumping buckets of despair down. It feels endless, and that’s almost worse.
Her horse marches diligently beneath her, the brittle ground giving way with a puff of dust to every footstep. ”I think this would be the last place to develop though. Too big, too needy with so little to start with.” As for his idea of storytelling, she nods. ”Wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a good deal of information we’ll learn from the locals.” Assuming they’d be willing to give it.
Her train of thought is interrupted by the announcement from Sol, her gaze lifting towards what looks like a star flashing too quickly through the sky. She tenses a bit at the idea of something, and carefully she reaches back for her bow and quiver. ”Not sure I like the sounds of that.” They’d not be the only things moving in the dark. The creatures that live here might be equipped for the heat, but no sense in roasting for no reason. ”If we don’t have to fight it, we shouldn’t,” she advises, despite her bow in hand now. They don’t have the energy to waste. She continues onward though, cautious and upright, horse directed to follow Sol with a steady stride. Not too fast, she might need the mount’s stamina to flee, but a purposeful gait to deliver them the knowledge of what to prepare for.
What starts to come into view as they remove distance is a small caravan of travelers. They’ve got camels for their mounts, sacks of goods and supplies piled up behind the seat. The sun-weathered people are in a flurry of movement, slapping and shouting and pulling. One camel is sprawled out, bellowing, and they’re trying to unhook its supplies before it crushes them, some already spilled out into the sand, lost as it soaks up the moisture of turned-over water and crushed fruits, the wind stealing the spices. The other camels, already well loaded down, stand or loaf in a mild patience for the scene.
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
His horse's tail flicks behind them, shooing a fly that's been following them for miles as Zavien wipes more sweat from his forehead. "Understandable. These lands are unforgiving. I'm impressed people have lived out here at all." Without the current signposts, he doubts people would have made it work, but those with larger supplies or goods would need to travel on foot, and this land wouldn't make that easy.
Still, he won't disagree that the Furnace is on the lower list of areas he'd focus on. It's massive with little benefit other than travel. Once the other areas are cultivated, then she might be able to start considering things like signage and tourists. "Right. Are you planning to meet with the locals before you start building things, to get more information and see if they have any input on how to make the process easier?" There's no judgement in his tone or the gaze that falls on her, just a professional inquiry as to her plans and methods and where he might help to improve them.
When Sol calls out, Zavien moves with less urgency or concern. Although he can't talk to Sol though the bond, after years of being together, he recognizes the intricacies of his companion, noting curiosity over alarm, cautious excitement over nervous anticipation. It has Zavien quick to reassure Colt as she jumps to ready herself. "It doesn't feel like a threat." Despite the words, his hand is similarly placed over his weapon, propped cautiously against the pommel of his sword in case whatever Sol has found turns out to be more than it initially appears.
The chaos they find isn't outwardly directed, the people and camels rushing around each other in a panic that Zavien doesn't quite understand. Regardless, he hops from his horse without thought, scanning the situation to find where he can help. "What's going on?" He asks no one in particular, but momentarily looks to Colt, searching for guidance on what the problem is and how to solve it.
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
Having to leave their talk for later, or perhaps due to prove itself in time as a show rather than tell, the topic swings around to what Sol has found instead. Zavien’s reassurance does earn him a quick, cautious glance, and her fingers loosen a bit where her grip began to bear down on the bow. She’d trust him to read his own dragon, but she’s as cautious of man as she is beast, so she doesn’t entirely put her weaponry back away.
Even as they approach the distressed situation, she remains on alert, well aware that they are outnumbered and could simply be hauled off their horses if desperation climbed. Stranded out here and done in before anything had even begun.
Zavien, bless his much kinder soul, doesn’t seem to have the same reservations, and perhaps his assumptions of aid rather than defense are what keep this from boiling over. ”Careful!” she tosses over to him, but she lowers her bow, not so readily dismounting yet as she scrutinizes the scene. To the travelers credit, they also are leery, several pausing in their frenzy to step closer to one another and look over. One of them though, the leader, if Colt had to guess, lifts her head and steps towards Zavien.
What’s it to you? She’s defensive, and stands with her hands on her hips, putting herself squarely between her group and them. Colt, meanwhile, has been watching the people who did not stop moving. The ones still focused on the task. ”Is it injured?” Colt asks the woman, nodding her head towards the downed camel that’s calling out. It could be misbehaving only, but there’s a certain, flailing quality that makes her think otherwise, although admittedly she doesn’t know camels well. Certain things translate though, and she’s usually good at watching for the little tells.
The woman is on edge because things are going poorly, and they do not want to be attacked when their pants are down, so to speak. Colt let’s out a small sigh, finally putting her bow away in full. ”I’m Colt, that’s Zavien. We can help you carry things on our horses. Lighten the load for the camel.” She’s got very little that’d help it recover, although her ring’s touch might keep it from death, if it’s that bad.
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Zavien only has time for a backwards glance before his boots hit the sand. In retrospect, the vantage point probably would have been better for a multitude of situations, but he accepts his new position without too much visible concern. Instead, his forehead wrinkles as he takes in the struggling camel and the biting tone of the woman in charge. He doesn't take offense, guessing that most people in this land are as unforgiving as the environment.
Before he has to come up with some reason of why she should trust them, Colt pipes up, addressing the main concern without bothering with pleasantries or stumbling through other nonsense conversation. It might not be his method, but the people seem to respond well to it, not immediately jumping to shoo them off.
His eyes scan the camel. Animals have never been his expertise, so he can't tell the difference between an injured animal and one simply struggling with the load. Regardless, he nods his head as Colt speaks, ready to act the moment they give permission and direction. "We might also be able to lessen some of the injury." His ring isn't strong enough to do much, but he can at least keep the camel from suffering more during the trip.
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
Zavien’s charm might’ve whittled them down better than Colt’s direct approach, if they weren’t already hackles up, unhappy to be caught with their pants down (or camels down) so to speak. Out here, losing your mode of transportation, it could be a death sentence. She doesn’t quite think that’s the jam they’re in, more the loss of goods spilling into the sand, and the fact they’d have to leave ‘em, their other camels already too loaded up.
She appreciates that Zavien’s with her, because even together they’re both outnumbered, and this group could have responded any number of way. Still could. Might serve them better to steal the horses right out from under them, leave them to perish in the sand. Colt wouldn’t put it past them, because she’d do the same thing if she had to. Fortunately, she’s not backed against the wall, and she doesn’t think they are either.
The woman, Chani, as she tells them stiffly, inclines her head as one of her group approaches her and whispers into her ear. She nods grimly, and then in an instant her shoulders break the line of stiff uncertainty, waving both she and Zavien in. Heal, yes. Can give cactus fruit in return. It’s not exactly friendly yet, but it’s a start, and Colt glances at Zavien. ”Careful,” she reminds him, stepping forward with her horse until she’s closer, still not dismounting, not yet.
”Let us help you where you’re going, and forget the fruit. We want information.” She twists a bit in her saddle, offering a hand to take Zavien’s horse so he can heal. She wants to be in a position to take quick action if need be while he presses in on the group.
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
The woman gives permission in a stilted accent that he has to decipher before understanding, but when he does, Zavien nods to confirm the exchange. They might not want cactus fruit, but he still wants to help, and if information is on the table, they might just be in luck.
Handing the reins to Colt, he steps cautiously into the group, heeding her warning as he moves. They don't appear threatened - or threatening - but there's certainly a tension in the air, like they expected Zavien to grab their goods and run into the desert. Other than the darkness and how difficult it is to run in the sand, he's otherwise disinclined to steal some random people's livelihood.
He keeps his palms open, showing them that he's no risk as he approaches the animal. Looking over the camel, he hopes and prays that it doesn't get the instinct to kick or bite him as he crouches at its side to place a gentle hand on its neck where his golden ring will pulse with a small dose of healing magic.
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
Wariness can often beget wariness, until someone's brave enough to splinter the tension by offering some vulnerability, which is precisely what Zavien does. Colt might have found herself on the end of a shootout here, or would have just done her damndest to run them all away, even with her offer and no nonsense approach, she doesn't trust them enough first for them to trust her either. The offer gave them pause, but it's Zavien stepping forward that finally sighs away the last of the uncertainty.
The shift is felt as much as seen, the rigidity of bodies in distress relaxing in small ways, unnoticeable to some maybe, but Colt sees them as plain as the way a horse will drop its head with a lick and a chew. It ripples through her in turn, and her feet finally hit the sand as she steps in closer while Zavien's touch melts through the camel. It's distressed calls dim, the injured leg not fully fixed, but the pain lessened. Yes, better! Chani and the group murmur approval, a smile or two flashing. Their predicament is certainly now, but a leg injury is not quick fix without a stronger healer, they might have been out this mount for weeks if they couldn't get it to safety now.
"We want to help," Colt reassures, posture softening with a head tilt and a smile. "I want to move here. Build a city." This earns a few furtive glances and a chuckle or two, as if maybe this isn't the first time, or perhaps they just think her unserious. You need much info, Chani suggests instead, her smile the widest, amusement rampant at the idea of a city. Not impossible, Colt thinks, but certainly not easy enough that no one who lives her has already tried. "Yes," Colt sigs, agreement woven into the breath. "So, shall we talk while we travel?" She's moved in, reins draped loose in hand as she reaches to place one of the packs on the back of her horse. "I've got the time, and the horse power. Let's work together on this."
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
The camel calms under his touch, the sharp edge of pain dulling with the magic glow of his ring. Zavien smiles, feeling the tension fall away to reveal a happier group than before. Their problems might not be solved, but at least they appear to trust them more, even humoring Colt's plans without derision or ridicule.
He stands from his crouch, nodding his head as she talks, offering their assistance. "Let us help. You don't have to travel alone." Gesturing his hand towards the load piled on the injured camel, Zavien asks politely, "Can I help redistribute some of the weight?" He'll happily do it however they direct with whatever amount their comfortable with, but he agrees with Colt that the creature needs a break from the goods weighing it down, and it would help for them to gain the locals' support.
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
A harsh land tends to yield harsh people. Life doesn't offer handouts in an ordinary situation, but especially not when there's danger at most every turn for the areas already more brittle and cruel than most. The people are slow to warm up, but their need is apparent, and the proof is already before them.
Chani considers, gaze flicking sharply as Colt begins to touch their things, but when no blades end up drawn or quick movements start, it seems perhaps there's truth here. More than that, mutual benefit, which is a far easier thing to trust than outright goodwill. Trade is something these people understand. Okay, Chani relents, and with a nod her fellows begin to also reach for baskets and packs and starts to load them onto Zavien and Colt's horses. One camel can handle more, but between the two mounts, nothing will get left behind.
"Good job," Colt leans in and whispers to Zavien as she helps shift the goods across her horse, ensuring nothing is too askew or loose that might lose the item or cause a problem for her steed. It still has to carry her, after all. She glances over at Zavien's mount to, giving it a cursory once over to ensure he won't be going for any surprise bronc rides. "Are there safe passages, in the areas of Hak Etme, that you can share with us? We're looking for where to settle and set up, and how to move in the meantime between them."
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Once the people give their permission, Zavien is smiling, already springing into action. He still doesn't move fast - not wanting to startle the already hesitant people - but he moves with careful efficiency. He lays out bags and packages, configuring them so that the horses are carrying an equal load, looking to Colt for reference on what the two steeds can handle.
Lifting a large sack onto the back of his horse's tack, he glances over his shoulders to hear her words. It brings a smile to his face, finding it refreshing to hear someone so open with praise over such a simple exchange. "That was all you," he returns.
Zavien lets Colt check over his horse before ensuring the rest of the caravan is ready, then he reaches for the horn and pulls himself up into the saddle to settle in for the journey. Running his hand over the horse's neck, he listens attentively to the conversation, wondering what information they might learn.
