From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
There's little for Cera to do or say as the party finally ventures forth. Though not one to spurn good conversation, the rest of the group doesn't seem inclined, and it's best to save his breath for the climbing as they go.
Darkness falls around them oppressively, but he doesn't shift just yet. It is still light enough by the moon for their steps to fall with surety, a guiding light that encourages their little bout of adventuring. There is nothing else to accompany them but the whistle of the wind across the scorched and barren land, the sound of their footfalls, and their collective breathing. Until they come to a wall that stretches up further and further, one that Wessex approaches and places her hand upon.
Before whatever question she intends to ask can land, the earth beneath them rumbles. Cera immediately widens his stance, pushing back his satchel to free up his hands, human eyes squinting into the darkness. Adam jerks something up into the air that Cera doesn't recognize, but he's too busy shifting to give it much attention. With the clarity of his wolf form's eyes, he sees the massive shadow that ambles towards them. A growl rises in his throat softly, hackles rising and stance widening as his teeth bare themselves. Should it come close enough, he is more than prepared to launch himself upon it to rend and tear in the most primordial fashion.
She can see clearly in the night: the big, humanoid, but otherwise indistinct lumbering giant heading straight for the little quartet. She hisses, baring her fangs, and trying to assess the situation. “Rory really need an answer,” she growls out, needing it two minutes ago, if not right now. Cause she doesn’t know what the fuck that thing is.
“We need light, too!” she yells, hoping that the man can perform under pressure. Otherwise - but then she notices that Cera is a wolf, and there is some small comfort that at least two of them can see well enough. “Spread out!” she says, finally, as the monster gets closer, swinging its large limbs as if they were little pests he could crush. It isn’t apparent yet what it’s made of (if it is indeed human or otherwise), so she has little strategy other than to not get hit/crushed.
Finally, she can see as it comes close enough to attack, and the realization is kinda shocking.
Wessex's words are sharper, louder, and his ears flatten slightly as he focuses on the rhythmic, intimidating pounding heralding the arrival of the monster only they can see. It storms closer, monstrous and intent on their little quartet, and certainly not seeming friendly with its aggressive approach. Cera digs his claws into the dry earth, snarl rumbling in his chest.
Directions are shouted to the group at large, but none relevant to him in particular. Cera glances at their small party, recognizing the leader in Wessex, similar to those he'd followed into battle in prior years. He trusts her, in this moment, to lead the other two men who do not have the advantage of sight in the oppressive dark of the night. So he follows his own instincts, rushing forward towards the earth-shaped creature that swings its heavy limbs at them, barking and snapping his teeth as he races in a wide circle towards its back.
With any luck it will distract the beast enough to help his fellow adventurers land their attacks if they are so inclined to try them. He jumps on stilt-legs, keeping careful watch of the reach of the creature, waiting for each lumbering motion before darting in behind the sweep of each limb to further antagonize it. Cera doesn't attempt to bite it just yet, needing to know what the plan was before he puts himself fully in the path of friendly fire.
Adam didn't really hear what Wessex said through the haze of his drunken mind and the ringing panic in his ears, but he knew what to do when a massive monster was in front of you. Immediately he ran off to the side, trying to scale a tree slightly to get some high ground (and see hopefully, with the brighter moonlight above the trees, what it was they were facing).
Aiming as best he could with the limited visibility he tried to shoot one shot from each gun, each aimed at the head of the creature. Each shot in addition to the noise would briefly light up the area with a flash of gunpowder alighting, and he got a glimpse of the beast; dirt...? He was way too drunk for this.
good evening, misadventure.
farewell morality.
it's time for another risky venture,
into the depths of depravity.
Rory yells that there aren’t any birds nearby to summon (that’s how that works, right?), but is able to produce a shaky fire-based light. If only they had something to keep it lit, instead of needing to rely on him. Not that there’s anything wrong with relying on Rory, he’s a solid, dependable guy when not faced with combat situations. Wessex snarls and counters Cera’s move, circling as quickly and as best she can, looking for a place to strike; a chink in its solid mass, a handhold, a weakness of any sorts. Gods, why don’t any of them have earth magic?
So it’s essentially down to herself and Cera, Adam having fucked off to a tree (she can’t blame him), to defend the group against the giant earth guardian. Bigger than they could have anticipated (can the Accepted see it, in the light blasts?), it towers over the group, easily three or four times their seemingly insignificant height.
It has taken the opportunity to swing a tree-sized limb at Cera and Wessex in an arc around itself, much slower than the puny humans, but man, if they’re close, they’ll have to either dart closer to its legs or run out to escape it’s ‘arm’ length. Getting bowled over by one of those could do some serious damage. Then Adam’s shots draw its attention and the creature turns its eyeless face towards the sharp, staccato blasts. It can’t see where it’s coming from, and it’s fairly unclear if it can actually hear, either, but the vibrations from the gunshots are enough. It turns from the pests at its feet to the tree and swings the other arm towards it, quite possibly able to uproot the whole thing.
Rory’s light is too far back to do much good, other than keep him safe and out of the way.
----------------------------------
Take damage if you want to, but don't feel like you have to. I won't be rolling for it. One more round after this!
Adam managed to feel proud of himself for about a quarter of a second before the monster came to swipe at his tree. Being drunk, he did not posess his usual agility and skill at climbing, and the shaking of the tree left him falling, only just grabbing onto a branch and dangling, legs kicking fruitlessly trying to find ground.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck--" He half-gasped, half-yelled, hoping very much that his companions here gave enough of a shit to try and help him. With his hands occupied grabbing the branch, he couldn't take the guns on his hips, and was essentially defenseless.
good evening, misadventure.
farewell morality.
it's time for another risky venture,
into the depths of depravity.
Whatever words are shouted between Rory and Wessex are ignored - unless they're directed at him, Cera doesn't spare the attention needed to process the words. Though the monster's limbs are slow, they are heavy and large, and would certainly deal a lot of damage if he doesn't keep his attention hyperfixated on dodging it. It certainly wasn't likely that he was going to rely on the man standing far on the outskirts, nor the drunk one that had seemingly disappeared within moments towards the nearest tree. Cera had not become a soldier until much later in his life, but he was no stranger to war, to battle, to bloodletting. If he could not trust someone to have his back, he would not offer it to them.
That's why it's a surprise that he does trust Wessex. She joins him in the fray, cautious but fearless, darting in and out in tandem with his own lunges. He is careful to stay out of her way at the same time as he gets deliberately in the way of the dirt monster.
It finally grows exasperated with them, swinging one treelike arm in a wide arc, and Cera grits his teeth in a rabid snarl as he does exactly what he had in his spar with Are - he lungs forward even closer, finally taking the literal leap and jumping with his stiltlike limbs in the rabbiting manner of his species, seeking the closest leg with claws and fangs at the ready to rend and tear. It surely won't taste pleasant, what with it being made of literal dirt, but it's better than being squished.
Loud cursing and the monster drawing away both take his attention, and though a part of him is relieved to no longer be the center of the monster's attention, he cannot let the other man simply be crushed. Cera races across the hard-packed dirt as fast as he can, claws like cleats as they dig and thrust him forward. He lets out a wailing, screaming noise that is intermixed with the loudest barks he can manage, zigzagging in front of the towering creature between it and Adam. Seeking its attention and trying to draw it back towards the open, away from the trees and the downed man.
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
For all her years and experience, she’s never met this kind of creature before. It is a year of firsts and she’d rather be rid of this one ASAP. The Ascended turns it up a notch, darting quicker than seems possible for a person, to tap and tease and maintain the monster’s attention. Cera (it is important to note that Wessex would find it hilarious that a twenty-one year old things that’s later in life.) in his wolf form is a boon, and though she can’t help Adam in the tree, she can turn a single attack into a two-pronged one, which might be enough to draw the monster’s attention back to them again.
The Queen releases her talons and opts to try and stick them into the other ‘leg’ (can it feel it, can it see them try to do this?) as Cera tries to do the same with the first. Except she doesn’t let go immediately. The earth is held together, almost clay-like, so Cera’s probably got a nasty mouth full of something, and Wessex is about to have to hold on for dear life - either that, or find a way to saw through the earthen limb and hope it falls off.
Adam, for the most part, is left alone now as the the monster is fully distracted by the thing in its leg and the wailing barks of Cera. It tries to balance on one leg and shake Wessex loose, which does little considering she’s got extension of her stuck a foot into the thing. They will come loose, she just can’t do it immediately. It keeps trying to do two things at the same time: shake the Wraith off and play whack-a-wolf, which makes it shit at both.
While being tossed around like a boneless rag doll, Wessex comes to a conclusion. They need to retreat. There’s no way the four of them can beat this thing. “We can’t win,” she yells to the three of them, hitches in her voice from movement and not from emotion. “Get out of here, I’ll be able to follow - soon.” Her commands are followed by a loud grunt of something - pain? Frustration? Effort? Either way, the Ascended isn’t necessarily convincing, even if she’s managed to tell herself everything will be ok.
---------------------------
I lied, *this* is the last round. What do you do?
Dangling from a tree Adam really had little he could do than try and get out of the tree. Drunk and ungainly he swung his long legs back and forth, trying to create enough momentum until he let go and managed to cling to the trunk, hugging it tight (and smacking most of his torso and crotch in the impact, causing him to make a very undignified noise).
Climbing down as carefully as he could, he heard Wessex yell for them to retreat. And hey, he wasn't going to argue. Saluting her as she got tossed about, he began to run as fast he could the way they had come.
good evening, misadventure.
farewell morality.
it's time for another risky venture,
into the depths of depravity.
Eugh, yeah, definitely didn't taste good. It's far more compacted than he expected, and he kind of just...opens his jowls and lets it tumble back out. There's no time for worrying about his tastebuds though. At least they're not as sensitive in this form.
Adam seems to be able to fall less than gracefully from his branch prison, scuttling away quickly as Wessex leaps upon the monster and promptly sticks like a particularly taffy-stretched cat of the night. Her call for retreat makes sense - tactically they're not prepared to take on a monster of this type, this size. Adam at least seems to get the message, wobble-sprinting off into the night. Cera races back in closer to the beast's legs now that he doesn't have to distract him from the other man, night-bright eyes focused on where Wessex is clinging to the leg. It doesn't make sense why she's remaining, unless she's potentially stuck?
Cera doesn't have a way of communicating with her, not in this form. But he has never abandoned someone before, and it's not the day to start.
He sprints back to the other leg, leaps with fang and claw once more, hoping the monster will try to shake him off like he was trying with Wessex. This time he braces his legs as wide as possible, and instead of slashing with his fangs he seeks to bite and hang on like a stubborn mule to make himself even more of a nuisance. Perhaps then the dirt-beast would switch which leg it tries to shake, and would give Wessex enough equilibrium to throw herself off.
Wessex isn’t surprised that Adam takes off, and is actually quite grateful when Rory leaves as well. Herself and Cera don’t need the light, and it’s better that she knows the other two are safely out of harm’s way. It’s likely that she would have been just fine, but with Cera using himself as a distraction, the creature forgets about its first passenger for a moment in order to tackle the second. It bends at the waist and swings its arm towards the wolf, but its girth, size, and the Attuned’s position keep him just out of reach. It tries as second time- also a miss.
Slowly, thanks to the pause in movement, the Wraith is able to withdraw her talons and drops to the ground. With a hiss to her companion, “Let’s go!” the Queen waits to make sure the boy is free of alls winging limbs before nimbly dodging another swing and heading back to the Hallowed Grounds. Looks like they won’t be exploring the rest of the world in that direction any time soon.
Not until after DeepFrost, at least. Maybe Remi will be able to make something of the dirt-monsters.
-------------------------
