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!
She’d visited the Hollowed Ground with purpose, but Torchline? Honestly, she was just curious. This was the sort of place she’d thought to be a myth, a fairy story, as a child. To her, it was those things, the sort of place that could not really exist, with warm sun and blue seas and skies. There is so much color here, and she hasn’t even made it to the city. She has no idea if the stories of Haulani are true and it’s just a den of thieves, but if it is, it sounds perfect. It’s on her itinerary for this trip to visit, but she’d started at the coast and gotten rather distracted by it.
It’s hot but early, the sun is not yet sweltering, when she finds herself near the lighthouse. She has no idea where she is, but she goes to stand near the edge of the cliff, looking out over the sea and wondering what else is out there. She knew Halo was on the edge of Caido, that there was a sea beyond her home, but not like this. To get to it meant going over the mountains and even if you survived that journey, to what else? The waters were too frozen and were not, to her knowledge, navigable that far north.
Weaver pulls her scythe from behind her back, beginning to run through some drills her mother has taught her. She feels out of practice lately with all this traveling, feels as if her muscles have simply forgotten the moves. She considers taking off her shoes, as she has been doing on the beaches, enjoying the freedom of bare feet, though decides against it in case something tries to eat her. It one thing to carry your shoes through the surf, and another entirely to simply leave them sitting nearby unattended in a strange and dangerous place (after all, this is Caido, and everything is dangerous).
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden had more reasons than ever to visit the Aumakua after his conversation with Ludo. Try as he might, however, he couldn't shake the depressed mood that had stolen over him of late. He sat at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the ocean.
Of course, a sight distracted him eventually. A woman was practicing with what appeared to be a scythe, of all thing. Raising his eyebrows at the sight, Saiden finally rose to his feet. Unlike her, he was dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts, though a cutlass was strapped to his waist.
Approaching, he mustered up an easy grin from somewhere, pleased to have this diversion. "You know how to handle a weapon." It came out approvingly, and he swept his eyes over her without hiding what he was doing.
She hasn’t been there long when a man approaches. His eyes rake over her unashamed, and she returns the look. His chest is bare and tanned and muscled, his face handsome, and a cutlass is strapped to his waist. Clearly he carried only the essentials.
His smile is easy, and she stops, one hand holding the scythe near the blade with the butt of its staff resting on the ground beside her. She usually it to casually lean against, just slightly, and she turns to fully face him.
”It is not the only thing I can handle well,” she says, her tone light and joking rather than sultry and seductive. Though it is true. She nods toward his waist, which is on purpose, though she adds words to clarify. ”Is that a cutlass?” she asks, familiar with the weapon in concept from Erebor’s endless fascination with weapons, but having never actually seen one.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Grinning at the woman’s comment, Saiden tilted his head to one side. ”Is that so? You're a talented woman, I see.” He matched her playful tone rather than going the suggestive route. Nodding at her question, he unsheathed the cutlass and held it up so she could inspect it more closely.
"You know, most people ask me for my name before they ask me about my sword." Again, he kept his voice light and breezy, and his smile was easy. Swinging the sword in the air a bit, mostly to warm up his wrist, he shrugged. "Not that I mind this order of events." The words were teasing.
Weaver takes a step forward, eyes darting to the short sword, it’s blade curved and deadly. Though not as curved as her scythe, it was still nice to see something curved and wicked on another weapon. He jests that most ask for a name before a weapon and she looks back up to him with her usual mischievous grin. ”I suppose I have different priorities. It happens when you grow up with an older brother obsessed with weapons.”
”Weaver. And you?” she says after a moment’s pause, watching as he swings the blade in the air. Shr shifts, bringing her scythe up slightly, itching to move and fight. It always reminds her of time with her mother or brothers, learning to fight off one or two or even all three of them at once. “Care for a spar?” she asks.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden couldn’t help but grin at the woman’s comment. "Is that so." Lowering the point of his sword to the sand, he cocked his head to one side. "And what kind of priorities are those?" There was a blatantly flirtatious tone to his voice, and his eyes sparkled alluringly.
When she asked him for a spar, however, he nodded. Stepping back, he raised his blade into a guard position, an eager grin on his lips. "Anything goes?" Regardless of what her answer was, the cook would take a deep breath and get a firm grip on the hilt of his blade. Then he would gesture with his free hand that she should make the first move.
His tone is flirtatious, and she gives him her best grin, the sort that is both shit-eating and come hither all at once. ”I like swords. In all their various forms and uses.” The double entendre is obvious, and she leaves it to hang in the air between them, now distracted by the fight.
Her grins widens, pleased, as he asks if anything goes. ”Anything goes,” she agrees, one hand resting on a knife in her belt. There are a number of them, and she likes to fight with knives as well as the scythe. She picks her scythe off the ground and places it in both hands, holding it easily with the blade at an upward angle to the right.
She walks toward him, closing the distance some, looking him over in a different way now. He is taller, stronger, perhaps faster, though she is used to fighting with all these disadvantages. She is less used to fighting with all those disadvantages and someone who doesn’t play by the rules (Erebor had always played by the rules).
She lunges forward, leading with her right leg, sweeping the scythe toward his left side with it’s double-edged, curved blade, aiming to hook him like a fish (not literally, of course, given that it was only a spar). She definitely had her priorities, and they usually involved fighting first, boys second.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden grinned at her equally flirtatious comment. "Well let's see how many uses we can find for our weapons, then." Although his tone was still suggestive he was more focused on the coming spar than anything else at the moment.
As she agreed to anything goes, he nodded eagerly, grin broadening. Then she sprang into action, fast. As her scythe sped towards his left side, his eyes widened. Stepping backwards, he parried as best he could with his cutlass, hoping to knock it aside or at least foul her strike. It wasn't entirely successful, and a shallow cut opened on his chest.
Then his eyes narrowed in concentration. Water exploded from the ocean. He sent it blasting towards her hands, hoping to loosen her grip on the scythe.
He paries the attack, though not before she’s managed to knick his skin. She feels a little bad to have actually drawn blood in a spar, though selfishly pleased to land a blow. Besides it’s perhaps a bit his fault for wearing nearly no clothing (not that she’s complaining).
She doesn’t have time to revel in her second of triumph though as water comes exploding from the ocean. She reacts, stepping back and pulling her hands closer to her chest, though not fast enough to avoid the water. Anything goes. Her grin widens.
Though the water does indeed loosen her grip, she pretends it doesn’t and lunges back toward him, scythe raised as if to chop down toward his right shoulder. If her opponent is paying attention, he’ll see that the scythe is farther back then it needs to be, though she finds that most people don’t always judge the scythe well since it’s an unfamiliar weapon. She’s hoping this is the case here as her back leg comes forward, knee coming up toward his chest (in a non-spar, it would come toward another spot, but she’s playing nice), hoping to force him back. Hoping to either knee him in the soft tissue of his belly, or simply send him backward into the scythe, or a little of both.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
As the scythe came towards Saiden, his eyes narrowed. Stepping forward, trying to get inside the reach of the much longer weapon, he split the water under his command. Half of it he kept on her hands, while the other half he sent rushing towards her face, trying to blind or at least disorient her.
Of course, he hadn't been counting on the kick. Given their closeness, it took him in the gut rather than the chest. He grunted, breath getting expelled from him in a rush. Not wanting to give her a chance to recover, he punched forward with his cutlass. His goal was to hit her shoulder with the pommel of his sword, but mostly he wanted to keep her on the defensive.
Keep her on the defensive? She felt a whole lot like she was on the offensive in the last few moves, but then again, she was always a little cocky in fights. It was half the reason she tended to actually lose, which she knows is true, but it doesn’t stop her. Idiot, Erebor would have told her, kindly but chastising all the same.
Like he had not expected the kick, she hadn’t expected the way the water splits. His control is annoyingly good, and it’s too late for her to move out of the way, one leg raised in the kick as it is. It is all she can do to turn her face away and close her eyes to the water, not ideal in battle. As soon as she can, she plants both feet, about to spin away, though she’s too late.
The hilt of his cutlass rams into her shoulder and she grunts in pain. Half blind, and annoyed that she can’t just burn away the damn water (add to the list of reasons to learn her magic), Weaver whips the shaft of the scythe up, hoping it will hit an outstretched arm, his chest, whatever. She really doesn’t care. The shaft is long enough that she figures she’s likely to hit something, and though her grip is weak, maybe it’d be enough to distract him from the water.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Grinning a bit savagely as his water forced Weaver to close her eyes and his pommel did indeed strike her shoulder, Saiden brought his cutlass back for another attack. However, before he could, the shaft of her weapon smacked him in the side. It had enough force behind it to send him staggering for a few steps, though thankfully he didn't lose his balance.
It also did cause his control to falter. The water dropped away from her face and hands. Before it could hit the ground, though, he called upon it once more. It sprang into the air between them, and he set it to spin rapidly in a disc in front of him, one he kept trained on her scythe, hoping to foul any strikes from her while he recovered.
She feels the shaft of the scythe connect with something and the water disappears from her face (thank the gods). Weaver opens her eyes and turns back, face wet and dripping, but at least she could see enough to see him stagger back and then conjuring a spinning disc of water between him and the scythe. Not that she couldn’t slice through water, but it did make it harder to see what she was doing.
Damn, if only she could create fire.
She lunges again, not waiting for him to recover (hopefully), swinging the scythe toward his left shoulder as if to come down and hook him with the blade, though her aim may be off giving the disorienting disc of water. It doesn’t really matter though. At the last minute she takes her left hand from the scythe, and though she keeps the scythe moving, it won’t have much force. Instead she whips a knife from her belt and lunges forward again, aiming the knife toward the bottom of his ribcage (though carefully enough so as not to stab him for real, which sadly slows the attack somewhat).
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden saw the scythe moving toward him. Growling, he shoved forward with his magic. The spinning disc, still moving, rushed forward. He blasted it (and Weaver and her scythe) with enough force to hopefully shove her off balance and to foul any strikes she might be sending his way.
However, he didn't stop there. Following his water, he swung his cutlass. He made sure he was using the flat of the blade, planning to simply bash her with the side rather than cut her with it
Of course, his vision was just as obscured as hers. So as he moved forward, she did as well, and her knife punched into his side.
