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!
Deimos’ impressions of the Launceleyn family, save for perhaps Loren, had been they were all a bit bizarre. Zariah had fed off of power, earning her Merciless title with such iron wrought preambles and ridiculous folds, that he shouldn’t have been surprised that any child of hers would come along with some other strange factions. Perhaps Morgan would have to keep watch on that one too – shaking his head, arching a brow, incapable of understanding some complexities of the local bloodlines. “Is he like his mother?” Or was that something to be seen, a terror for the future?
A nod indicated comprehension of the hands; as if this was a normal part of Caido, an everyday occurrence to be sent proportions of others. Morgan didn’t seem too overwhelmed, or confused by it, indifferent perhaps. He wasn’t certain how he should’ve felt about it either – giving and granting information where he could.
The finishing touches warped and contorted around the ends of his fingers, the solid wood now defining and sharp against ivory; a polished sanction, a small pat delivered to the catapult beneath his hands. The beast should’ve known the inquiry would register after he’d granted the only sagacity he had, briefly clenching his fingers back into his palm, before sliding the hand entirely away, stepping back from the machine. “I have not.” He’d only learned of Amalia’s possible involvement after she’d…left, another secret, another rift, another thing locked and corded away.
And I'm not expecting you to care, but I have finally seen the light
Deimos' question, one that Morgan had spent plenty of her own time wondering (and worrying) about, was one she didn't know how to answer just yet. She shrugged. "He keeps to himself. I've hardly seen him since he arrived, so it's hard to know if he's much like Zariah. I am keeping an eye on the situation, but for the moment it's quiet." Of course, there was always the possibility he was concocting some kind of plan in the shadows, but as Warden there were only so many things she could control at once.
With the catapults finished Morgan began to slowly walk around them, appreciatively touching here and there on the wood and nodding, appreciating Deimos' skill and the solid sturdiness of things that hadn't existed barely five minutes prior. "These are wonderful, thank you. We will repay you one day." Whether that was in goods or a favour in a moment of need, Morgan certainly considered the Hollowed Grounds to be Halo's ally.
"Ah. ...I don't know if I've ever met a Demi-God of the Old Gods. Are there many, in the Grounds?" She wasn't sure if there was a way to know them by sight: a glowing halo perhaps, or a shaking of the earth beneath their feet.
Another nod, the circumventing of more threats exposed, information for the future, or nothing at all. It was difficult to not be suspicious, given the last name threaded throughout chaos, bedlam, and ruthless decrees. The beast never had any intention of underestimating individuals, and certainly not beasts from those decrepit bloodlines.
“No need. They were in exchange for harboring our Grounders during Deepfrost,” a tight smile conforming around his mouth, and then dissipating quickly. The pang of wistfulness, of days before the rampant deaths, seethed against him, and he strived not to show it, not to bear it, for any longer than necessary. Kiada had kept them all tied and tethered. He’d been sorry for sending, for asking, her to go – but then she’d met Chulane, and had those brief moments of contentment.
Only to end up entirely elsewhere, in the end.
His eyes lifted from the ground and the catapults, reeling back to the Warden. “Some. More in Torchline, if I recall correctly.” His thoughts instantly went to Ronin and Remi, unaware of how many others had been gathered and nestled into the fold, into the reach of this Order, and what it all meant.
A breath taken in, and then unfurled, gaze shifting briefly to the horizon. “Do you know where I might find Chulane? I have news for him.” Unfortunate, devastating, and not even remotely what he wanted to do.
And I'm not expecting you to care, but I have finally seen the light
"Oh." Morgan was surprised to learn that her people had apparently already earned the catapults, but she would not argue; with a smile she gave him an appreciative nod. "Thank you, then. Of course, they are welcome to stay again when Longnight comes this year." From what she knew of Longnight in the Grounds, she could hardly blame the people for wanting to move elsewhere, and if it brought back rewards like this, it could be a very good deal for Halo indeed.
Not having spent too much time in Torchline, she had not (as far as she knew) met any Demi-Gods. Deimos quickly changed the topic to Chulane, and she paused, thinking it over. "He's probably at the Council Hall, making up the last plans before he goes to begin work on his farming plans." She informed him, then looked the catapults up and down. "I will stay here, I hope you find him. Thank you for the equipment, General, and safe travels."
