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!
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head The thunder of the drums dictates
The Sword had never been truly far away. Not from the aspects of what constructed and contorted in his veins: a soldier through and through, even if the title had been stripped from his name. The bones had still been forged in warrior prowess. The veins still pulsed with vehemence. The mind still grasped at machinations, tactics, and vigilance. He’d been tucked in corners and left to his own devices, but not now. Not any longer.
Like stepping into home, the barracks front parlor remained the same; a comfort with the fire in the hearth, with roaring flames, with maps he’d left in place, rolled underneath the desk in the corner. The apartments were still there, to be tended to when he moved back in, the Shields themselves busy at hand, either giving him a wide berth, entirely uncertain, or flickering straight back into a routine, a normalcy, befitting people capable of enduring change.
So his first few hours were maintained in inspection, a massive side-eye to the state of the armory (again), the targets (some battered beyond recognition), the catapults outside (needing repairs) and down to portions of wood outside, doorframes clearly nibbled on by passing vampire gourds.
Ordinarily, Deimos would adhere to doing things by himself; but it would take a matter of days, with portions of time that should’ve been set aside for trainings, instruction, routine patrols around the Citadel, and defensive maneuvers. Opting for assistance and so he didn’t burn himself out in the first week back into the role, he left a notice on the board for anyone interested in helping, and then set out the tools.
--
This is an open PQ to refurbish the barracks (and regain Deimos’ profession check)! Feel free to come on in and we’ll move things along when we have two others to join!
1.
2.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead The rising of the horns, ahead
Sah saw the notice on the board and given that he had no plans for the day, decided to head over. The Abandoned spent a decent amount of time at the barracks training anyway, so sprucing it up seemed like a fair trade. Walking up to the building, Lilly at his side, Sah made his way in.
Spotting Deimos he gave the General a nod in greeting. "Hey, how are you holding up with all of the recent changes?"
The Outlander was happy for Deimos even though he imagined the sudden shift might be a bit stressful. The Sword had too much experience and knowledge to simply be a mere soldier. His reinstatement was a good thing for both Halo, and Deimos himself.
Aino was not thrilled by the new changes in leadership, but that did not mean she was going to sit around and mope while her friends needed help. Deimos' pinned request had been noticed, and at the appointed time the woman came stalking into the barracks, with sleeves rolled up and ready to do her part in shoring up the defenses.
She may not be an official soldier still, but with Sah's help and the improvements to her mother's life in the making, the possibility of her rejoining the force was increasing. Enough to give her hope.
"What do you need?" she asked the newly re-instated General, as she fell in to stand beside Sah. The three of them seemed to be turning up around each other a lot lately, not that she minded.
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head The thunder of the drums dictates
The usual suspects arrived; he arched a brow, gave a singular smile to both, inhaling a massive breath that spoke of something like undertakings, rather than any emotional forbearance. “I am all right,” he mentioned to Sah; because he was – this was right, this was sure, perhaps this and this alone in his blood. “There is simply much to be done,” and if it was overwhelming, overbearing, he didn’t show it – not in the breadth of his chest, of his shoulders, or anything else. Deimos wasn’t carrying the world, but he would hold Halo above all else, including the people. “And you?” Reflecting upon the Abandoned’s feelings after the latest meeting, the gathering of souls who either agreed, remained neutral, or stood firmly rooted in their disagreement.
His eyes flickered over to Aino, in her usual brusque, abrupt mannerisms – and maybe he was grateful for it. Straight to the point, rather than wallowing any further. He muffled a laugh, but the grin remained, standing taller, straighter, spine and columns of bone upright, rather than a bent, bowed head. “Thank you both for coming. I would like to start with the armory and the targets.” Inclining his cranium in their direction, he started down the hall, presuming they would follow, until they came to the room filled with weaponry.
While he’d been running things previously, it had been in a constant state of organization; a part of a soldier’s every-day tasks: to place their armaments back where they belonged, to shift armor into place, cleaned, ready for the next day or the next interval. Any of the Shields needed to know where to find a specific piece for their impending movements and motions. But now, either due to no one properly leading them, laziness, or it’d been deemed unimportant, the armory was in a state of disarray. Blades were laid haphazardly, crossing over boundaries of other types, armor and chainmail strewn everywhere, and some precious tools clattered upon the floor. A deep sigh was maintained, closing his eyes for a moment at the frustration warring over him, before he had to release it, let it go into the void. It would be taken care of soon enough. “As you can see, it needs quite a bit of help. Mostly organization and cleaning. Two of us can likely accomplish that quickly.”
Thereafter, the other task suited them further into the threshold of the training arena itself. The Sword made his way over to a pile of targets that were either too emblazoned with holes to go on, disfigured immensely (heads cut off, but never sewn back on, arms dangling, legs flailing), or merely needing a fresh coat of paint. “And one for refurbishing the targets.” His eyes flickered up to several Shields watching them instead of accomplishing their tasks. “You can recruit several of them as well,” jutting his chin towards the fellow soldiers.
--
Pick your tasks! Deimos will fill in the remaining spot.
1. Two for organizing the armory
2. One for fixing the targets (and you get to order some NPCS around)
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead The rising of the horns, ahead
She stood quiet through the courtesies. No doubt Deimos and Sah were both aware of her state of mind already, after the exchange of words on the square. Her smiles remained tight lipped and grim, and while she was polite and amicable enough, there was tension beneath the surface sharp enough to cut oneself on.
"I'll get started on the targets. Let's see if there's anything left for you to do when you're done here, hm?" A challenge to egg herself on with, and once there was nothing else to add, Aino set to it. A few old friends from among the soldiers volunteered, and she glared daggers at a few others until they stepped up; they could grumble and complain later as soon as the work got done.
Once everyone was properly distributed and armed with the necessary canvas, stuffing, needles and other tools, they set to doing the much postponed repairs. How things had gone to seed so quickly - Deimos had really not been away from his post for very long - she would never know, but the curses that kept searing the air around her, muttered and under breath, said more than polite words about her thougths on the lax attitude.
Aino bullies some NPC's into helping her fix the targets.
Sah shook his head with amusement as his sister went off to bully the poor soldiers. "Guess that leaves us with the armory. I can start cleaning if you want to organize it to your liking?" He offered to Deimos, figuring that the General would want the armory organized in a certain way.
Getting to work, Sah did his best to clean the weapons and armor present. After each piece was done, he put it into a pile. The piles were organized based on the types of weapon. There was a pile for swords, one for shields, another for staffs, etc. The goal of that was to make it easer for Deimos to then organize the clean weaponry.
Sah sets about cleaning the weapons and armor present and then puts them into neat piles for Deimos to organize in the armory.
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head The thunder of the drums dictates
They set to work; tasks divided and meant to be conquered. And while Aino intended to bully either through tension, glares, and maelstroms, some of the fellow soldiers adhered (likely the ones tied together in friendship), a scarce few others (the younger, more defiant, unruly, lazy individuals – who’d not yet received a lecture but were due) were decidedly unhelpful. Likely the same warriors who’d left both armory and targets in complete disarray, they opted to either take their time, or goof off.
As such, the figures and effigies reconstructed and fixed by Aino and company – wonderful. The ones who wove subversive little wrinkles to their noses, furrowed their brows, and laughed? Scarcely any progress made.
Sah’s suggestion was met with a welcome, but tight smile. A nod of gratitude and acknowledgment, and the two men set to work within the room. While Sah cleaned, preparing the weaponry for hanging and organization, Deimos grabbed hold of the ones scattered, rendering them into the same piles. Before long, no armor was left on the floor, no counter covered with various bits of metal or serrated edges; staffs, axes, spears, blades, and any other necessary armaments stored, hung, and placed where they needed to be. With a sigh of relief, the Sword folded his arms over his chest – proud of what they’d done, even if it seemed insignificant now. “Much better. Thank you.” He glanced over it for a little while longer, ascertaining everything in fine, working order, before nodding his head, and leading the way back out into the training grounds. “We can go see how the targets are coming along.”
--
Sah and Deimos have finished cleaning and organizing the armory! They’ll be coming to help with the targets.
Aino had a bit of bad luck and some unruly soldiers refusing to help. She’s about ¼ of the way done. Maybe she can bully them some more?
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead The rising of the horns, ahead
It did not take long before Aino noticed how sloppy and slow some of the soldiers were with their work. She had never been a sergeant, nor held any position of authority in her stint as a Shield, but she had heard enough lectures about faulty equipment and the dangers of lax attitudes to reiterate them in a resounding voice. Standing firm with hands on her hips and fierce determination, she delivered a scorching speech on just what she thought about lazy people who endangered their friends and themselves by being stubborn and willful.
"... and I will not have it. Now get to work! Unless of course you think yer General will be pleased to see how well yer' doin' with the tasks he set ye. Here he comes now - don't take my word for it."
Her gesture towards Deimos and Sah as they came to help caused a great deal of scurrying and wiping off smug expressions from youthful faces. Aino looked on grimly as everyone seemed to be getting on with their jobs, and with an exasperated roll of her eyes at her friends, she reached for her own next target.
"Apologies, General. We had some setbacks, but the work should be progressing smoothly now." Or she might be stripping the hide off some snotty recruit's whelpy back.
As Sah arrived to help with the targets, he had to stifle his laugher. "Having some trouble there, Aino? I thought you could bully people better than that?" He teased, eyeing the soldiers who were suddenly struggling to appear productive in the presence of their General. Things really had derailed in Deimos' absence.
Shaking his head, Sah got straight to work. He did his best to repair what targets where redeemable, and put those damaged beyond repair in a pile to the side. The targets that had a chance were sewed, cleaned, and placed back in their proper placed to the best of Sah's knowledge. He also tried to get the lax soldiers around him to work, staring daggers at any who were refusing to work. He might have also triggered his lightning at the same time, just to add a little emphasis.
Sah helps repair the targets! He also backs up Aino's bullying with his best glares.
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head The thunder of the drums dictates
Whether it was Aino’s bullying, combined with Sah and the Sword’s capabilities, all of them nestled together and got to work. The soldiers kept their heads down, sewing and patching away, and Deimos had to snort, coming in on the finale of Aino’s announcement – lowering his voice to a whisper. “Let me know which ones were insufficient, and they can have more laps added to their schedule.”
Amused, mostly, but knowing full well he’d have to orchestrate more measures through the laziness, it was time to move on. Targets reassembled and back in place, Deimos moved towards the catapults in the corner. “These have not been used in a while,” and he pulled on one of the levers, listening to the crank whine in protest. “So we should do some repairs.” Leaving the tools out, he demonstrated what was required for each, and then Sah and Aino could both move forward into piecing them back together. “If we do well, I will even let you practice with them,” came on a laugh, but a promise and conviction just the same.
--
Targets are complete!
Repair the catapults!
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead The rising of the horns, ahead
Sah eyed the catapults eagerly at Deimos' promise. "Perfect." He'd never used one but he'd seen them in action. It looked like far too much fun to pass up on. And so the Abandoned got to work. He focused on replacing what parts were too damaged and repairing what he could. Sah didn't know much about the structure of catapults so he had to keep checking in with Aino and Deimos.
But once he was satisfied with the repairs, he set about testing each lever. Those that were too stiff were oiled and primed, any blockages removed. Hopefully everything would run smoothly after this, and there wouldn't be any surprise misfires.
Sah starts replacing and repairing parts. He oils and primes the levers as well. Given his lack of experience with catapults he does ask Aino and Deimos for advice at times.
Smirking at Deimos over the comment, she nodded subtly and made a mental note to find out the names of her less cooperative 'volunteers'. They wouldn't thank her for it now, but perhaps in ten years or so when they were still alive, the strictness of today might serve them well.
Moving on to other areas once the targets were declared sufficient, Aino watched Sah's glee over the catapults with some amusement. They were impressive machines, true, but the woman was all too aware of how precarious they could be if poorly maintained to find the need for this overhaul amusing. One faulty rope, one fractured pole, and the whole mechanism might as well explode in their faces.
She went about her tasks with care and concern, nitpicking her own work - and Sah's, when he asked - to the point where someone would have to step in, if the rest of the chores would be completed the same day.
Aino is being very fussy with the catapult maintenance and will have to be pried away from it with crowbar, probably.
Come and conquer, drop your bombs Cross my borders and kill the calm
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head The thunder of the drums dictates
Despite the jubilation and excitement rendered towards the catapults, only Deimos seemed to hold mastery over them. Content, experienced, and familiar with his creations, the woodwork gleaned and prospered, back to a well-oiled, functioning machine. He rendered a few test pulls of levers, surveying, contemplating, studying, before rounding over to see how the others were doing.
Which, wasn’t great.
Sah, overeager, and Aino, overbearing, combined together to make a mess of parts and assemblies uncoordinated and no longer contributing to their function. The Sword frowned only slightly, moving over to assist with whatever was happening – and before someone ended up smacked in the face for their efforts. “We can move this here,” he indicated to Sah, motioning a lever, then standing back to see if the Abandoned could work out the schisms. “And this part,” he indicated to Aino, pointing directly, “Goes here.” Thereafter, they could strive and try again.
--
Bad rolls. :/ Try again!
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead The rising of the horns, ahead
It had been a while since Aino did this kind of thing regularly. She told herself that it was just a lack of practice, and accepted the corrections from Deimos with stoic tolerance that probably meant she was cursing on the inside.
When she redid the work, she made her best to relax a little more. Not to the point of becoming sloppy, mind, but perhaps she did not need to treat the artillery piece like it might explode in her face if touched in the wrong spot. She moved the ropes as indicated, re-attached some bolts and muttered a prayer to whatever gods that were apparently listening in that she wouldn't fuck this up again.
Aino tries again, trying to be less tense about the whole thing this time.
Come and conquer, drop your bombs Cross my borders and kill the calm
