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!
Cheerful and chipper as ever, Edwyn approaches the barracks with a strange familiarity. He's been here before, and would have looked just as out of place then. But it's important for writers to know about that which they write, and so he's spent time mulling about with the weapons and watching training spars as they've happened. Rarely does he ever partake. So what's changed? Well. Now Edwyn has this new idea for a character who's a bit of a ruffian.
"A writer and a potter. It's almost like the beginning of some sort of bad joke." Constantly upbeat and unfailingly always with a smile, Edwyn flashes his counterpart a wide grin before turning back to look at the weapons on offer. "I'll be honest. Though I write about these and have held them enough to get the heft of them...I really know very little about fighting." There's absolutely no embarrassment in the ascended's voice though, Edwyn having all the self-confidence of a man who has never been truly beaten down by the world.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun laughed at Edwyn's comment. Winking at his fellow Ascended, the potter picked up a blunted practice sword and swung it around a few times, getting a feel for the weight. "You know, if you want to walk into a bar with me all you have to do is ask," he quipped.
Nodding at the other man's words, the guild master moved his foot to block Zhanshi from making a beeline for Edwyn. Amun wagged a finger at the landshark. "No biting." Only then did he respond to his fellow Ascended. "Well I'd be happy to show you how to use your body." Amun flashed a grin at the other man.
Then the potter stepped back and nudged his companion to the sidelines. Zhanshi tunneled away to a safe distance, before begin to circle in the corner. Beckoning Edwyn forward, the guild master raised his weapon. "First rule. Try not to die." He inclined his head and shifted into a defensive stance, body bladed, right foot forward left foot back. "Now show me what you've got."
"I never said it was a bar." Edwyn points out with a chuckle, clearly pleased that Amun had picked up on the type of joke he was going for though. "But now that you mention it...I am much better in bars than I am in training arenas."
Glancing down at the landshark that seems to have an eye for ankles, the ascended blinks at the little creature before raising a relieved blue stare to Amun, only for it to turn crooked and a shade bashful. "Oh." With a polite smile, not quite knowing how to take the potter's comment—suggestive? helpful?—the writer watches as the other man strikes a post.
"Well, I'm not looking for anything life-threatening here, so I assume that should be quick easy?" Reaching for a sword similar to Amun's, and wielding it with far less grace and muscle dexterity, the writer tries (and fails) to roll his wrist with it as Amun had done. Shooting the other man a crooked smile at his failed efforts, he lunges forward with an absolutely predictable series of slashes.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Grinning, Amun shrugged. "You never said it wasn't a bar." Snorting at Edwyn's comment, the potter raised an eyebrow. "That makes it sound like you have a drinking problem." Laughing, he punched his fellow Ascended gently in the arm.
The guild master shook his head at the other man. "Well, you never go looking for life-threatening situations. They just kind of find you." Not even moving from his spot, Amun activated his upgrade. The metal from his sword seemed to ripple as the practice sword flexed and slapped Edwyn's strikes aside.
"Good! But try to not to telegraph your next move so much. Here, watch me." Going completely still, he waited a moment. Then, without warning, he lunged forward, blade thrusting for the center of the other Ascended's chest.
"Touche." Edwyn chuckles. He doesn't flinch as he's punched, so much as he wilts into the pressure. It's not a secret that the writer would absolutely subscribe to a lifestyle of the pen being mightier than the sword, especially by the utter lack of muscle Amun will feel on his bicep. Still, he accepts the gesture with a grin. "Once upon a time I certainly did have a drinking problem, although somehow I didn't know it at the time. I thought it made me a better writer. In fact, I thought lots of mortal vices made me a better writer." He shrugs, clearly not feeling much in the way of embarrassment or regret about that stage of his life.
"Wow. Impressive." Genuinely, Edwyn seems to mean the words as he watches the crackle of power with awe.
Watching Amun indeed, though for Edwyn, this meant mentally narrating how he might decide to write about the man before him, he's caught entirely off-guard despite Amun's very clear instructions. Stumbling backward and holding up both hands (thus dropping his sword), the point of the potter's blade presses against his sternum and causing his bones to hum with the electrical current.
Uselessly lowering his hands with a breathless huff that was entirely just a habit at this point, the ascended chuckles. "Okay, so just watching you didn't help much. What should I be watching for, specifically?"
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun nodded along to Edwyn's explanation. "Let me guess, now you've got a drinking problem of another kind," the potter quipped. Grinning, he made sure to flash his fangs. "Have you found that your immortal existence has greatly improved your writing?" He raised an eyebrow.
Chuckling at the awe in the writer's words, the guild master shrugged. "Just a gift from the Voice. I am sure you will have many similar gifts from her soon enough." He smiled, practically beaming at the discussion of their goddess.
As the point of his blade touched the other man's chest, Amun's eyes widened. He hadn't been expecting to actually be able to land a blow. Still, he slid back, lowering his sword. Bending down, he retrieved Edwyn's weapon and held it out to him, hilt first. "With normal people, I'd advise you to watch their chest. Eyes can lie, but once you learn how muscles move, you can tell what your opponent is planning to do as soon as they start to do it."
Assuming the writer took his sword, the potter would step back. Sliding his feet apart and turning his body to present a smaller target, he nodded at the other man. "Watch." With that, the guild master would move into the same lunge, but at a much slower pace, to give Edwyn a chance to study how Amun's body shifted during the strike.
"How about...you define problem, and I'll tell you if I agree." The writer quips back with a triumphant smile, nearly winking his approval at Amun's verbal lob back before restraining himself. "Well, I would have lived this long on my own terms I think, so I don't know that I can draw that conclusion. I do know that the lack of certain...distractions has certainly helped."
This was one of those times Edwyn had to imagine that his heart was racing. That he could hear the adrenaline in his ears (no wait, blood. It would be blood in his ears). Given what he was now, his heart rate was almost entirely regular despite the mental fright he'd given himself. Though Edwyn knew perfectly well what Amun was getting at, he simply couldn't help himself: "Sounds like a license to oogle certain opponents." He notes, offering the potter a scandalized look. "And..what about all of those unnormal people?" Reaching out for his sword, he pulls it away sharply as if half expecting Amun to play some sort of trick.
Watch he absolutely did, though damn if he didn't wish he was holding his sketchbook instead of a sword. "I'm...not so sure I bend like that." Edwyn confesses, before trying to mirror Amun's posture. As if on cue, he tips too far forward and as he flails to catch his balance, arms predictably pinwheeling at his sides, he inadvertently thrusts the sword toward the potter's shoulder.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Smirking, Amun chuckled at Edwyn's rejoinder. "That's not red wine in your goblet. And that's all I'll say on that matter." Winking, the potter found himself smiling as the writer explained what he had and had not taken away from his experience as an Ascended. "Helped how? Has your writing changed now without those distractions." The guild master found himself leaning towards the other man.
Amun shrugged at Edwyn's comment. "Serves them right if they haven't bound themselves properly for a fight." Grinning, the potter shrugged once more at the writer's question. "My advice? Don't get into a fight with them at all. And if you have to, run away and live to fight another day." The guild master waggled his eyebrows, though he would actually stand by his advice. It was what he'd done before he'd gotten stronger in Caido and he felt no shame in that.
No tricks: the other man would have no trouble retrieving his sword from Amun. When the writer protested that he wasn't flexible enough, the potter shook his head. "Maybe not yet, but that's why we're working on it, right?" As the other man stumbled forward and his blade plunged towards the guild master, his eyes widened. He wasn't quite quick enough to step out of the way, and the blunt point of the sword slammed into Amun's shoulder with what would've been bruising force, if he bruised.
Growling a bit, he activated his upgrade again. The sword in his hand shifted into a rod, which he brought up from below with both hands to shove Edwyn's blade away. Amun used enough force to try and actually shove the writer off balance or disarm him when the potter's new weapon hit.
"Well, it certainly has become...easier? I wouldn't say I have more muse, but certainly there are fewer distractions to take me away from my writing." Edwyn supplies. "I do have to work a bit harder at remember when certain things are like. Sunlight on skin, the nip of crisp LongNight air, those sorts of things." The writer's shrug suggests that he very much doesn't mind this, though.
"Duly noted." Edwyn replies with a slight laugh, surprise contorting his features. He wouldn't have pegged Amun for being so pragmatic when it came to fighting, but then again, the man was a potter turned political advisor, so clearly he knew how to keep himself in (and out) of the right circumstances.
"Oh, I—" Edwyn stammers as he tumbles forward, his wrist jarring as his sword strikes the potter. Amun's shove sends the writer catapulting backward, landing right on his ass where he contentedly remains. There is no pain to accompany the fall, though he winces just the same.
"Ughh." He grumbles dramatically, letting himself flop back onto the ground. With his clothing already dirty it hardly seemed to matter, and the theatrics of the moment absolutely seemed to call for it.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun hummed at Edwyn's explanation. "I imagine that makes your descriptions all the more beautiful, in a way." Pausing, the potter found himself studying the writer's features. "Have you considered joining the Artist's Sanctuary?" The advisor smiled.
Laughing along with the other man, Amun nodded. As the potter shoved against Edwyn's admittedly unintentional strike, the advisor accidentally sent the writer tumbling backwards.
Staring down at the other man, Amun raised an eyebrow. Then he activated his upgrade once again: metal from the bracelets he wore slithered down his wrist and joined the rod he held. Pointing it at his fallen opponent, the potter tried to poke Edwyn in the gut. "Generally speaking, exposing your belly to your enemy is not a winning strategy."
"I had, a few times actually. Perhaps I should." Edwyn doesn't sound entirely certain about the idea, but he's far too polite and unsure of what his future holds to turn it down. "Are you a member?" He asks in turn, knowing that Amun's pottery is the best in the Grounds by a long shot. Though whether or not the other man considered it art, or merely utility, the writer had no idea.
As Amun's blade presses against Edwyn's stomach, the writer pulls a face and lets his head flop against the ground. "I am slaaaaain." He cries, hands moving to the tip of Amun's sword and then rising, pantomiming the look of horror at seeing one's innards utterly exposed.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
"Perhaps you should." Grinning, Amun nodded at Edwyn's question. "That I am. I know, I know, that makes it infinitely more appealing." The potter puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips in a completely over the top pose that would hopefully elicit a laugh from the writer.
Poking the other man one last time with the blunt end of the weapon, the advisor raised his hands to the heavens. "Victory is mine! I dedicate this win to artists and dreamers everywhere." He whooped with good cheer, eyes sparkling.
As Edwyn conceded, Amun rested the weapon on the ground and leaned on it like a cane. "Yup. But I thought the point of this exercise was for you to learn something."
It did indeed elicit a laugh, a smile thereafter as well. "Quite right! " Edwyn agrees, once again wishing he was currently holding his notebook and pencil that he might capture Amun's pose. With the potter's broad shoulders and narrow waist, he had the perfect superhero silhouette Edwyn thought. He was rather fond of the curve of his cheekbones too. Alas, another time perhaps.
Grinning with agreement, Edwyn claps his hands and then awkwardly rolls forward to stand. Clearly he needs a good amount of stretching.
"Oh, but I have. I've learned that you're quite the quick-wit, and that your upgrades are very impressive. I've even learned that you're a rather humble victor." This wasn't the case, though the writer's sunny-smile indicated he didn't mind in the least. 'And I've been reminded what it's like to fall on my ass." He adds with a chuckle. "So you see, I have learned quite a lot."
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Eyes crinkling at Edwyn's laughter, Amun grinned. "So you're convinced then?" Dropping his hands from his hips, he cocked his head to the side as he waited for the writer's response.
The metal shifted once more: the potter restored his bracelets and made the rest of the rod back into the blunted practice sword he'd started with. As the other man made his assessment, the advisor chuckled. "Well I could've told you that."
He reached out his free hand for Edwyn to take, but the writer was already rolling to his feet. "I guess you can chalk this up to a success then. And if you need to learn more, let me know." The potter winked, smirking just a bit.
