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!
11-23-2020, 05:43 PM (This post was last modified: 11-23-2020, 05:44 PM by Nate.)
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
The twisting, frozen caverns hidden in the fangs may all look alike, at least on the surface, but that does not make them equal, not by a long shot. After all, only one of them contains the secret obsidian shrine. Only one of them feels quietly welcoming and bright.
Pemota has returned to his side, now that danger has passed. The little starwhal seems to be just as exited as Nate himself is, energized by success, by simply being here. ”We’ve been seeing a lot of each other recently, haven’t we?” How far he’s come from expecting to be left alone in the silence. ”I have something you asked for this time.”
Clutched in his hand, and now held aloft, is the shard of Mageglass that they’d recovered from the depths of the Fangs. It glints dangerously in his hand, it’s simple form belying the power it can hold.
"This is making me feel a bit like Safrin." A shower of electricity heralds the arrival of the Voice. "Being brought rare and precious artifacts..." She is pleased of course, but there is clear disdain in her voice as well. Unlike the herald and the old gods, the Voice would be quick to take what has been brought to her and use it in service of her bright ones.
'You made rather quick work of the caves.' The Voice notes with a smile for Nate, knowing just how clever of a mind he has. Reaching for the mageglass, as it touches her fingers the world around them shakes and bends as raw power surges into the Voice.
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
No answer that comes to Nate’s mind feels diplomatic, some tiny sliver inside of him generating just enough guilt to keep him from aging anything at all about the herald in the Voices presence, though it must be glaringly obvious to the goddess. Nate does what he can to step forward, a bright smile showing off his teeth when he speaks. ”I’m always happy to bring you what you need.” Theres a beat where he chuckles, shaking his head for the effect. ”Or to at least try.”
There’s no rational explanation for the swell of pride in his chest that comes from the goddess’ praise, so he simply smiles instead, and pushes it from his mind as quickly as possible. ”I’m just glad we didn’t come across anything dangerous.” Nate admits with a breathless chuckle. ”Nothing like stepping into a frozen tomb to remind yourself you don’t have any kind of offense, huh?” It’s absolutely more of a joke than it is a suggestion, not even Nate presumptuous enough to simply expect a reward for the bare minimum.
But he wouldn’t say no if the Voice perhaps felt a reward was in order. That would just be silly.
Serious or not, the thought is blown from his mind as the mageglass is handed over, the world rumbling and power surging into the Voice. Almost instinctively, Nate knows to not be worried. Instead, he keeps his curious eyes wide, waiting to see the results of this transfer.
He'll find out the results in due course, as will the rest of Caido, but for now there's simply a pulse of energy in the air, the fading light, and the goddess before Nate, seeming invigorated by the addition of the mageglass. She smiles at him, benevolvent and pleased.
"No kind of offense?" she repeats, the raise of her eyebrows suggesting that she knows exactly what Nate's thinking, and honestly, with the building of the shrine in play, with the mageglass, with all that's going on... It's true, that her bright one has earned a little something to help, perhaps.
"Step closer, bright one." She beckons him. "Let us see if we might change that."
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
Though he has utterly no idea what's changed, Nate is nonetheless positive that something has, energy he can feel crackling around the Voice, brushing against him by proxy. Something keeps his eyes pointed away as the light fades, at least until his Goddess speaks.
It's with a touch of surprise, and a great deal of hope that Nate looks up at the Voice again, her brightness bearable to behold once more. His grin is wide, bright, and there's absolutely no hesitation to his steps as he moves closer, heeding her beckons. "Now who's the one getting spoiled?" He rumbles easily, a wide grin on his face.
"There is something to be said for being spoiled, every now and then," the Voice murmurs as Nate draws close, a somewhat youthful smile on her face that seems momentarily out of place. But then her bright one is before her, and she rests cool, steady hands upon his temples. He will feel a fizz, like something building within him, and then a soft whistle hits the air.
The Voice is responsible for the sound, and as it fades from her lips, a perfectly ebony arrow, sharp and sleek and dangerous will be hovering at Nate's shoulder. "There," she says. "A little offense, for you."
Johnny has spent MP for Nate on the following:
Everywhere Arrow | A sleek, obsidian arrow. Controlled by whistling, the arrow is moved and directed via a mental link with the user. Range of 15ft, works with Ascended only.
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
There’s a gentle touch at his temples, a crackle of energy not entirely unlike what he’d felt when he’d gotten Pemota, though this is less of a connection and more of a widening of his mind. And it makes sense as the Voice whistles, a sleek black arrow coming to rest above his shoulder where Pemota usually does.
A delicate hand reaches up, a single finger tapping at the hovering arrow, before Nate whistles himself, testing out his control. It’s... admittedly not great, but he can practice, he can hone and refine it. He can work with this little instrument of menace. ”Thank you.” He says warmly, leaning in as if he means to hugs the Voice, before stopping, shifting to replenish himself instead, pulling back when he’s sated.
”Thank you. For everything.” He grabs the arrow properly and dips his head at the Goddess before he turns to leave, excited for the future, for what all of this means.
