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!
Instead of brooding in corners or smoldering his way through shadows, he chose the wide open terrain of the coastline, rooted and stagnant upon the rocks. The lighthouse behind him, the sun placating, he only made a marginal effort to maneuver upon a massive boulder, honing in on concentration. Zuriel lingered nearby, occasionally raising her head to stare, shake her cranium, and return to grazing – the individual meant to be on the alert, while his eyes closed and he strived.
The Sword didn’t know enough about earth magic to truly clench, grasp, and tether it – like a light, little strand, a thin seam, he could push and pull upon its wares, but it obviously required some more time to grow, to churn, to burn in the sanction of his other enchantments. Still, breathing in, breathing out, a long, unwinding exhale, the beast willed the pebbles lined along the stone to move. They shifted in various directions all at once, some scattering to the forefront, falling off the formation, others scooting back towards him, and then the remnants simply drifting in various patterns.
He opened his eyes, furrowing his brow, staring down at them. It’d been a long time since he’d been required to do any semblance of such focus for so little reward; but since he was a tenacious, obstinate individual, he’d merely try again.
Alina still didn't trust Torchline. However, information would keep her people and the Greatwood safe, and the only way to get that was to observe potential threats. Only then could she neutralize them before they reached her woods.
So she went through the portal, then took to the skies. She flew up and up, until a curious tower caught her eye. Considering that a similar tower was a sanctuary for the new gods and their creations, she decided to check out this particular obelisk as well.
As she got close, she saw a figure at the base, though she couldn't make out what he was doing. Making sure her bow and quiver were secure, she tightened her grip on her spear. Then she flew lower, though she didn't land, just hovered above the man. "You there. What can you tell me about this place?" Her words were brusque, gaze suspicious.
Zuriel conducted her part, alerting him to the notion of the Fae’s approach – his eyes opened, no longer glancing at the scattered rocks, concentration and attention shattered, movements hovering above him. The wings gave her away, and he was half-tempted to roll his eyes, before he remembered they were supposed to be striving towards better forged alliances and ties with the nymphs; even though few of them seemed keen to consider it. His stare flickered upon her weapons, and he could feel the sensation of Zuriel’s haughty condescension marauding its way through their bond, and now he was forced to tamper down both of their hostile, vehement mannerisms.
The demand in her tone bristled and grated; made him pause, pondering if he ever sounded like that. Perhaps as the Reaper; much more conducive to conversation as the Sword. The man fought a sneer crossing over his features, and instead, muddled deep into a stoic, forbearing countenance, completely reserved and unyielding. “What do you already know?”
Glancing at the prancing unicorn, Alina's eyes narrowed. Still, she raised the tip of her spear, not wanting to give the creature or the admittedly giant of a man (especially for a Fae) standing next to it the wrong impression. The huntress' expression remained unchanged, simply a slight sneer as she literally looked down at the man.
When he asked his question, she looked up and down the tower, considering. Then he shrugged, and returned her gaze to him. "Assume nothing." Again her tone was brusque and she made no attempt to conceal both her impatience. Indeed, she actually gestured for him to get on with it with one hand.
Zuriel’s lifted head remained poised, the treacherous horn staying exactly where it was, despite the Fae’s lowering of her weapon. Deimos’s glance towards the unicorn indicated nothing, because he was just as guarded and poised for something; his stare rendered back to the stranger, piercing eyes narrowed. He didn’t care if she was impatient, and he’d be readily content to irritate or annoy with the juncture of his reticent, reserved composure. In truth, he might not have much to give or grant her anyway: his experiences here had been amongst tides and memorial making, with the occasional foray and exploration of the wildlife. Tones were carefully neutral, no inflection regarded or bombarded, brows raised at the hand-waving gesture, and tempted to remain a provoking infidel. “Only local fauna.” A shrug of his shoulders thereafter, purposefully seditious.
Alina pressed her lips together at the man's less than illuminating response. Glancing briefly at the unicorn, which still had a hostile posture, the Fae snorted. Still, she flew a bit higher.
Not leaving quite yet, she continued to scowl down at him, wings beating almost lazily as she hovered in place. "Tell me about the fauna, then." It came out in a demanding tone, and it was clear from her voice, her actions, indeed her whole demeanor, that she was used to giving orders. Unfortunately for him, no matter how impatient she seemed, she was also a hunter, and could wait as long as necessary to get what she needed.
The Fae’s movement upwards left a smug, patronizing countenance along the unicorn’s mannerisms, the same haughty display persisting, grounded in her stature, in her wake, in her existence.
And while she could demand, command, and order about, Deimos could always simply not do what she requested. The pushiness, the hostility, the rampant, scowling demeanor didn’t drive him to give up much of anything, much less trifle details and particulars. Unfortunately for her, the Sword had a reputation for taciturn inclinations and tendencies towards complete, utter silence. It was tempting to not grant a single word or refrain, grounded and grating in irreverence. The opportunity was there, however, to snag at something for himself and the rest of the Grounded populace, arching a brow, his features and tone otherwise apathetic. “What information will I receive in return?” Were she not so grating, he might’ve proffered the wisdom and sagacity for free – had done so on numerous occasions for others.
Alina scowled down at the unicorn's prancing, though she swiftly paid attention to the man, knowing who the real threat here was. Mostly the Fae was just trying not to upset the creature. Still, from her vantage point the huntress could watch both easily.
Narrowing her eyes, she drifted slightly lower when he finally spoke. Now it was her turn to fall silent, considering, lips turned down with displeasure. Finally, she snorted. "Depends on what questions you ask and what you want to know in return." Then she waited patiently once more to see how he would respond to that particular answer. Hopefully something short, sweet, and to the point.
The unicorn continued her blatant, threatening stare, while Deimos tilted his head, considering the ruminations. He didn’t expect some term of agreement – but all the Fae he’d ever come across had been partial to fair exchanges, so his considerations, calculations, and machinations spun into the whirlwind of days and hours he’d spent within the Fae village – attempting to procure his abducted friends. He’d already heard of the sacrificial aspects of their tulmhainar, had pulled others out of their pit, but the pile of books beneath tree roots, hidden from view, layered in some degree of secrecy, spurned his curiosity again. He’d been distracted from opening them at the time, and the connections between them and Safrin’s underground library was a distant haze. Another casual shrug, a roll of his shoulders, eyes glancing off to the rolling sea, as if in deep contemplation, before returning to her. “What information do your books in the Undercroft contain?” Inquiry and inquisition, naught more meant by its decibels.
Alina barked out a harsh laugh when the man finally came up with a question to ask her. "Do I look like I spend my time in a musty library?" Shaking her head, her eyes narrowed as she looked down at him.
Finally she nodded abruptly. "As I understand it, it is mostly history about the Greatwood and the Fae. Does that answer your question to your satisfaction?" She continued to hover above, at this point completely ignoring the unicorn, which seemed to be all bark and no bite. Her grip had grown firmer around her spear, and she once more waited with the patience of a good hunter for the stranger's reply.
Her sharp laughter caused a fractional, minute tilt to his head, as if surveying and scrutinizing the reasoning for the harsh reel. He, a warrior in all definitions of the word, had no fault or issues with libraries whatsoever. But then again, he also favored acquiring knowledge, wisdom, and sagacity in whatever shape or form available. Perhaps it was how he’d been raised, applying battlefield tactics with scholarly pursuits, lending to capabilities of plots, schemes, and strategy. Merely aligning oneself with the blunt edge of a weapon was all well and good, but rushing headlong into things didn’t guarantee success. So he snorted, and allowed the comment to pass without a response.
“I suppose.” It didn’t really – he likely could’ve gained those notions for himself, had he thought about it when they’d been granted their limited access. History about the Greatwood and the Fae might’ve benefitted the Grounds somehow, but prying it out of a winged one might not be worth the hassle. There were always other means and measures.
Then it was his turn, and the Sword wasn’t one to back away from a debt or a mutual exchange, even if the temptation was there. His eyes glanced out towards the sea again, rolling against rocky outcrops, waves curling back upon themselves. “Cloud manta,” and he nodded in the direction of the sea, indicating a few stretching and flapping above the current, and then splashing back down, “can fly and swim, and apparently have a jewel in their forehead that could allow someone to breathe underwater.” Pertinent information, for someone yearning to dive into depths without the speculation of drowning in the midst of it.
Alina's eyes narrowed slightly at the man's less than satisfied response. Still, it was apparently sufficient enough to get him to give him what information he had about the creatures of Torchline. Turning to face the direction he indicated, she sought out the cloud mantas that he was describing.
"Are they dangerous?" For once, her voice had lost that hostile edge, since she was distracted by studying the beasts he'd pointed out. It didn't sound or look like they were a threat, but she wasn't willing to take that chance. "What else can you tell me about the Fauna here?" Presumably he knew more than one animal from these parts.
Deimos had only learned of the creature’s properties from Jigano’s wisdom – otherwise, he’d left the manta alone, swimming above and following their movements. “I am not certain.” The truth, but since it sounded as though they were commonplace and the entanglements of their resources already known, someone must have known how to hunt them. His stare slid back over to them, bounding and bouncing along the waves. They didn’t appear to be a threat in the way that so many other animals did – not a dragon, not an ursur, not a banshee or some other wicked conflagration of predators out on display. It’d be up to her whether or not she did anything with the acquired base.
Her question thereafter made him snort, only because he wasn’t going to extend anything else without the mutual exchange. “Information for information,” he shrugged, not giving, not granting, unless he received knowledge in return.
04-01-2020, 10:25 PM (This post was last modified: 04-01-2020, 11:02 PM by Alina.)
Although Alina was clearly unhappy with the lack of additional information about the cloud mantas, she eventually nodded. It was abrupt and jerky, and her expression was less than pleased. Glancing one last time at the odd looking creatures, she looked down at the man and his unicorn soon enough.
Sneering down at him, she finally nodded again, just as brusquely as before. "Fine. We have collections of our stories and customs, as well as information about the old gods." Shifting her grip on her spear, she began practicing her forms, jabbing and spinning the weapon with the ease of practice. However, she made sure to keep the duo on the ground in her peripheral vision.
