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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!
Between all the other fumblings and chaos, Lena wished for calm – brief, interlocking missions suitable for quick, swift moments – before she had to make her way back to Stormbreak and strive to outlast the next formidable onslaught.
Mittens opted out for this trip – the proximity to the old volcano was alarming enough – so the Caretaker had placed her basket nearby, before shifting into her arctic fox form. It’d be far easier to accomplish her task of snagging at the fertile loam with paws made for digging, rather than shoving her hands into the soil. The loam would be wondrous for the Dragoons’ gardens – and something else to occupy her thoughts, rather than sedition and trepidations.
So she tackled it immediately, letting the silt glide amidst claws in a flurry of movements and motion, already beginning a nice pile.
my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre come now, bite through these wires,
Remade from fire and brimstone, Astaroth finds himself drawn to Apopo often when he comes to Torchline. However, he usually has so many more things to do that he has yet to indulge himself — until today, with nothing else going on, he decides now is as good a time as any, and so he’s been up here basking in the warmth of the volcano, not fully aware of the environment and the creatures around him.
He doesn’t have to be, anymore. Crows wouldn’t send him running any longer, so the butcher’s comfortable in his aimless wandering. Even going to far as to stumble across the pale arctic fox — familiar enough with them from his life in Halo. But it’s strange to see them here of all places, and he drifts closer with the curiosity of whether or not it were an Attuned. “Oh, hello there.” Comes the greeting as he approaches, deciding that the creature would run off if terrified, but it’s worth a shot anyway. He approaches a comfortable distance and crouches, tail sweeping across the dry ground and flicking lightly at the ashen tip.
Her paws made quick, light work of the minor and miniature expedition, but it was still satisfying and rewarding. Before long, she had a growing pile of silt and loam, and she would’ve continued indulging in the rapid movements and hole making, had someone else not ventured onto the scene.
The Caretaker should’ve noticed, honestly, given all her Attuned skills. Perhaps she’d been too absorbed in her task. Those notions were alarming – because if she had been snuck up on during something else -
But then she gave a quiet chirp in surprise, before realizing she knew exactly who it was. With a flick of her tail, and one paw held up, to almost signify ‘just a moment’, she dashed a few more portions of fertile soil into the manifested heap, before altering back into her usual form, knees immediately settlng onto the earth. “Hello Asta. Sorry – I was just gathering some things.”
my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre come now, bite through these wires,
The fox is diligent in its work collecting the loam and silt, and truthfully it only pinpoints to the butcher more than this was likely an attuned. It wasn’t common actions for the usual arctic foxes he’d seen take, so especially as he speaks to it, crouching slightly with enough distance to not ward it away, he notes the paw lift in a just a second kind of motion that immediately has the butcher refraining from asking anything else and waiting patiently for them to finish.
Then, just like that, fox becomes woman. And not just any woman, but one he actually knows – much to Astaroth’s delight. “Lena, darling, no need to apologize.” He hums, flashing her that bright smile of his as he straightens up. “What are you collecting these for? And would you like any help?” He asks curiously, horned head tilting slightly.
Rising from the sea like some warm and welcome submarine is a Tumsea. With a smattering of starfish on its shell and a coating of seaweed, the creature looks as if it is trying to reflect the starlit heavens. Slow and kind, the creature glances your way, and though it is difficult to ascribe a smile to a creature such as this, indeed it seems to be smiling at you before descending down back into the waves.
You’ve encountered a Tumsea. This counts as a rare creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements. You may not kill your rare creature without admin permission.
Tumseas (rare/mythical): Smaller cousins of the Tulmhainar, Tumseas are like moving ecosystems all unto themselves. With shells of brilliant blues and earth browns, these turtle-like creatures can grow to nearly 4ft in diameter and can hold their breath for decades at a time. Bringing vibrancy and health to all the underwater trails they follow, Tumseas are thought to be good omens and are often followed by schools of fish encantados
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
Asta didn’t seem remotely bothered by the alterations – probably many had done so before him as an Ancient. She grinned, all sunshine and roses, on a morning dais with nothing burdening the horizons save for errands that needed to be run. “I was hoping to get some of this soil for the Dragoons’ gardens,” she mentioned, already beginning to slide her hands into the dark loam and placing it within her basket – she’d have to be very careful not to dump any out on the way home. “If you’d like – I hope I’m not taking you away from any business you might have here.” Reasons for journeying to Apopo might be different depending on one’s race; she could imagine many of his kind soaking up the heat of the volcanic region.
Though she was momentarily distracted by the sight of the tumsea below, rising from the waves in a beautiful stroke of fortune and kismet. “Oh, a tumsea!” She pointed out – excitement clearly written on her features. Given the nature of their existence, not many came to the Celestine; so any opportunity to catch such a creature was wondrous. “Must be a good omen for the day.”
my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre come now, bite through these wires,
It was a more common occurrence to see in his fellow Ancients – without the attuned bond to communicate, it was entirely based off of body language and locale that the butcher tended to figure out whether it was truly just an animal or a human beneath the exterior. “Oh, I see.” He hums softly, drifting closer to bend and help her, his knee popping with the movement though he seems to not notice. “Ah, no, I was simply passing through. I have never been here before.” He offers her easily, before his gaze is swept out at the same time that Lena’s is, for the tumsea that crests the water.
Having not seen one of those, either, Lena’s sheer excitement at seeing one is reflected in the butcher’s face as his smile widens, taking it in and the smile it sends their way. Hearing her murmur of it being a good omen for the day, the butcher has to incline his head to agree. “It must be.” He murmurs softly, before looking back to the task Lena is currently busy with, helping her carefully place the loam into her basket. “I am certainly having a good day, and It looks as though you were successful.” So perhaps it was just good luck.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
She appreciated any of the help she could get, and grinned in gratitude as he began sweeping more of the silt and loam into her basket. A quick glance informed her the tumsea was soon gone, just a wondrous image for half a moment as it dove back down beneath the waves, likely content to have extended its wholesome regard.
Asta’s lack of journeying here before surprised her; perhaps she expected him to have traversed anywhere warm and sunny – but left that curiosity in the back of her mind, regaining focus on the task at hand. “If only every day was that simple,” she hummed – given the pragmatics, speculation, and constant threat from the Family. Figuring the Grounds may, or may not, be feeling the same way, she angled her conversation into far more pleasant aspects. “How are things with you?”
my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre come now, bite through these wires,
A low chuckle leaves the butcher as he inclines his head toward her, helping her to finish her task before he’s straightening up and brushing off the majority of dirt from his hands before a lick of flame appears to clean his fingertips off. “Gods, what a beautiful world it would be.” He hums softly, tucking his sleeves up slightly higher than his wrists with his clean fingertips before he sticks his hands completely into the flame to clean his palms. Brushing any lingering ash away, the smile he shoots her way is bright and genuine.
“Lovely, actually. I am glad that Flowerbirth is upon us once more.” Because Deepfrost was always such a nightmare for Ancients, especially those that lived in a place where it snowed. But he’d survived it, obviously, to stand before her and offer a bright smile. “How are you? And the Celestine, of course.” Inclining his antlered head, the butcher’s tail sways low by his heels.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
Lena would argue that the world was still beautiful; the tainted edges were simply blemishes they’d eventually be able to be rid of. She could see wonder in every part of their aspects of Caido – from the desert to the sea, and everything in between. Only Starfall wouldn’t receive any credit from the Caretaker.
Finishing up on the silt and loam too, she brushed her hands off over the basket, then tucked all the ends and pieces back within, covering it up and lifting it – seeing if she’d be able to handle its weight. Content with the arrangement, she bid her attention back to the Ancient, smiling all the more. “And you’ll enjoy Longheat even more?” At least his kind had placed to escape – much like the Climb – but even that came without some civilization aspects. “Busy on both accounts,” she mentioned. “I’ve started a garden for the Dragoons,” hence the loam, “so they can have herbal remedies available to them right at the Nest.” She turned her attention back to the sea in the distance, careful not to bother pinpointing on Starfall itself. “And assisting with any other flower endeavors.” She figured he’d catch her meaning; he was clever.
my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre come now, bite through these wires,
The world was still beautiful, but it was edged in shadows and darkness, unfathomable amounts of blood. Not that the butcher would care too much about the blood, but with the lights of those within such as the Caretaker herself, for every light there had to be a dark. Perhaps for her light, there were those like him, better suited to darkness and shadows.
He doesn’t dwell on it, though, chuckling a low and accented hum as he inclines his head with agreement. “Immensely. That is the perfect time to be one in the same with a lizard on a hot rock.” Which is exactly how it felt, if he had to be honest. And he lounged in the heat as much as he could, without getting sunburned of course. But he listens intently as she explains what she’s been up to. “What a thoughtful idea.” It wasn’t something that would’ve occurred to him, at least, but it only seemed to make sense.
As for flower endeavors, he does catch her meaning with ease as he nods. “I have also made my attempts to be a gardener this season. Not with much success, unfortunately.” Though that seemed to be the common thread.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
She laughed at the mental image; having never compared them to such notions of cold-blooded creatures sunbathing, but now it wouldn’t quite go away. “Thank you,” when conspiring over the notions of gardening expertise for the Dragoons – grateful, perhaps, to be where she was comfortable amidst Medics, rather than the more weapon-honed soldiers. She’d be distinctly out of place.
As for other horticulture particulars...“Oh – I haven’t been very successful there either,” she mentioned on a light sigh, despite the many trials and attempts. Knowing Zavien would soon have one in this grasp, even with all the traumatic balances afoot, was at least something; and they might be able to gain some traction depending on where it ended up. “Let me know if you ever want to try again. Could always use more eyes.”
my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre come now, bite through these wires,
It’s a surprisingly apt description, and as Lena registers it (figuring she might find it amusing given her status as the caretaker of the Celestine), the low chuckle of a laugh escapes him softly. It subsides with the dip of his antlered head, the one that coincides with her gratitude where he flashes her that same smile.
As for other gardening ventures, the butcher is happy to help where he can, even if for today it’s to help lug the basket back to the safety of Torchline proper. “Lovely, I shall let you know.” More eyes couldn’t hurt, especially at this time with Starfall becoming more prominent. “Shall we?” He asks, gesturing toward the path that leads down off Apopo.
Whether she agrees or agrees to stay a little longer, the butcher is happy to keep her company.
