From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
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!
Darkeye grinned broadly and when he saw what Deimos was about to do, he gritted his teeth - he didn't want to dodge this time and tried to anchor his feet firmly in the ground and let it come to this collision - he wanted to show Deimos that he had become stronger and also acknowledge him for it. He prepared himself for the impact, which would be fierce. The most important thing was not to bite his tongue and to push his chin slightly towards his chest. That the neck could not hit too far back. He would drop both spears just before they hit each other and try a shoulder throw with Deimos, maybe it would succeed.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
There was almost a cheeky little smirk lined along his mouth as he heard the spears drop and clatter to the floor – the threat of his impending collision had been enough. But Darkeye’s size and movement, along with his own intentions, wouldn’t be able to stop and cease the impact Deimos had set course. Not with his speed, not with his power, not with his might, and despite the cleric’s shoulder slamming into his own, it didn’t stop the Sword from intending to strike into the other man.
It'd be a bruise later, but a worthy one.
Then he’d ground himself, so he didn’t go faltering after.
This impact was heard felt in the whole hall by two stubborn heads that do not want to retreat. Darkeye had tried to brace himself on the ground and succeeded despite the speed and force of Deimos not to be thrown too far away. He was lying next to him on the ground and it hurt a lot. But he laughed out loud. He stood up and rubbed his arm properly. "I don't think it's going to get any better than this, Deimos, or would you like another round?" he asked with a grin. He was not sure if he was able to get another round but he had so much fun with Deimos and this training.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Deimos somehow remained upright, but it had been a close one. Snorting, muffling the distinction of a laugh, he shook his head and offered his hand out to Darkeye to drag him upwards again. “I think we have done enough for today,” and thereafter he scooped up the various weaponry that had managed to scatter amongst the stone floor.
The rest of the soldiers milling about seemed bemused by the antics, and returned to their posts, skirmishes, and own practice. “Do you need any healing?” His head jutted in the direction of Zuriel, standing but clearly napping in the corner, waiting to be summoned or irritated into mending another wounded warrior in the midst.
Darkeye accepted the hand gratefully and let himself be helped up. He had to force himself to stop laughing out loud. It had been a nice ending and he found it a pity that his shoulder throw had not succeeded. But against Deimos it was not surprising that it had not worked. He picked up his weapons and stowed them away again. "What do you think of my new spear, if I may ask?" he asked. "And yes I think it's going to be a nasty bruise otherwise and I thought I even heard it crack but I don't know for sure to be honest." He said with a grin. He hoped Zurial wouldn't be angry if they woke him up to heal him.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
“Seems to work in your favor. How do you feel about it?” Whether or not Deimos thought it hastened well wouldn’t matter in the long run – he wasn’t the one wielding it. If it coincided with Darkeye’s preferred movements and armament choices, then it should’ve been suitable and fine.
One rumble between soul bonds and the unicorn’s eyes opened – her noble crown turning towards them. There was a brief snort and a few imparted notions that went to Deimos only (he didn’t roll his eyes, but certainly thought about it), before she came over to the smaller man. Bending her head, with her horn jutting towards the man (giving no indications of danger), it glowed for an instant, and he’d be able to feel the mending, healing, assuaging effects of the equine’s own magic.
"I like it a lot but I don't think I'll be fighting with two spears anytime soon it makes one too slow I prefer a faster fight. But I'm afraid I can't match your speed yet." He said with a smile. He thought about alternatives. "I should learn to use more weapons again, but thank you for your time and helpful tips," he said, bowing slightly.
Darkeye was grateful for the power of the Mystic Companion's healing. Again, he bowed once, hoping that the unicorn knew how grateful and honored he felt to be healed by such a being. He was glad that he did not have to go home with the pain, he did not want to let on how bad it was. But he felt that if his arm had been broken, it would not have been worse. Deimos had put a lot of force into this attack. He would do it again and again. "I thank you for the healing. And thank you Deimos for your time. I'll be in touch when I find out about climate change." He bowed once again.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Preferences could alter, adapt, and change with practice, precision, and time. Unfortunately, the last portions were shorter and shorter with war looming, but at least Darkeye had found the opportunity to carve out this lesson. “You are always welcome to come try them out here.” Recruits were constantly trying out new ones as well.
When Zuriel was finished, she gave a slight nod, before accepting one of Deimos’ many treats lining his pockets, and then leisurely strolling over to her routine napping spot. The General’s attention returned to the cleric as the unicorn meandered away, a slight sigh clustering in his lungs, not forgetting the bizarre happenstance of Torchline. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” A pause, before turning back to his other constituents. “Take care of yourself.”