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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
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 sun was setting by the time she finally found the shrine. Golden sunlight set the trees in this part of the forest ablaze, glowing crimson like burning embers or fresh blood. But the shadows deepened quickly and as Maea looked around, she noticed that finding her way back would be a far more difficult task than she had hoped.
Well, no matter. How much more lost could she become, anyway? What mattered was that right now, at this moment, she was exactly where she wanted to be.
In the gathering dark, the soft glow from candles and lanterns about the twin trees was beautiful. Warm and sweet, somehow, the lights helped soothe her frayed nerves and made her breathe easier. For a while, Maea simply stood there and gazed at them, letting the peace of the place wash over her, settle into her. Perhaps she ought to be afraid, out here in a forest that absolutely was haunted, according to everyone she had spoken to when asking for directions. Ghosts. Probably uncanny things as well. But... For some reason Maea had never been afraid of the dark. Careful, wary, and of course LongDark was a completely different matter but... the shadows of those loved ones?
No, she was not scared of ghosts. But perhaps that just made her naive.
She had no lantern with her, unfortunately. Seeing the ones placed on the ground before the trees, she figured she ought to have made one. Instead, she pulled a small trinket from her sleeve. It shone moonsilver-bright in the gloom, pale strands of her own hair braided into the simplest of bracelets.
Sitting down on her heels, the pale-haired girl placed the gift on the ground between the trees and wrapped her arms around her knees. Breathing a sigh, one that made the candle flames dance, she whispered for the one she had come to see. The one she hoped to meet, should they be willing.
The second that the trinket is placed upon the ground between the trees, a cool breeze parts the branches, whistling in small whispers among the lanterns both hung and placed around the shrine. It’s a comforting breeze, but nothing more happens.
For a while she just sat there. Feeling the breeze. Listening to the whispers. Disappointment stirred inside her, crawled through her belly and into the lungs... With a long sigh the young woman breathed it out, and again, until she felt nothing but peace once more. Of course she knew the odds were slim that the deity would have time for her, but she had hoped that it would. She really did. For now, however, it seemed she would have to handle herself on her own.
"I'll come back" she promised, and stood. Taking in the beautiful shrine one final time, she bowed slightly to it and left, to search her way back to the Hollow.
