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!
09-20-2022, 10:17 PM (This post was last modified: 09-21-2022, 05:37 PM by Odd.)
I carried my own ashes to the mountains
In between reinforcing walls, building weaponry, and starting their tasks for impending skyports, Deimos took a few moments to recall his own goals and ambitions. An aspiration on its signature merits perhaps, to not bend and be swallowed by the overwhelming notions of titles again, to not fracture into how the Reaper had persisted until there was nothing left.
Standing in front of the shrine, he took a few moments to snag at his bag, and then produce the leviathan scale, holding it in the palm of his hands. He’d done as directed – unfurling his own darker threads of incantations and enchantments into the item, snagged at Ru’s lightning, and bore the weight of Sah’s attempts to bombard. Another instant more, and his quiet rumble echoed and reverberated along the pedestals and offerings, head bowed while he waited. “Safrin, I have completed my tasks.” And then, maybe, he’d have another defensive means, a way to protect and guard himself, in the coming days of war.
The air around the shrine is suddenly heavy with the smell of petrichor and lilac as Safrin sighs into being. Dressed simply, for once, in all black, the goddess looked as though she might be in mourning. Reaching for the scale, it snapped and sizzled and sparked with life between her fingertips. "How amazing it is that when something is able to withstand all that life throws against it, it is made all the stronger for it." Her dark eyes flick up towards him as a small smile presses itself to her lips. "Not unlike you, Deimos." She murmurs, reaching up with her free hand to softly cup his cheek.
"You have done well, and I am pleased."
Deimos has received
Leviathan Scale Armor | Lightweight armour made from the scale of a slain leviathan. Always reduces incoming physical damage by the wearer's basic dmg stat. Downgrades incoming upgraded dark magic, to basic-level.
Her appearance caused the slightest of head tilts, a silent inquiry he wouldn’t bother to voice, a stretch of hushed curiosity for the bombardment of obsidian. Instead of asking the question bit back behind his teeth, he watched as the scale snapped, sparked between her palms, permitting the small, slow smile to unfurl thereafter.
He hadn’t expected the compliment, and were it anyone else he might’ve snorted and brushed it aside – but they both knew the value of fire-forged dominions, how far he’d fallen and how often he’d somehow managed to rise above those trials, tribulations, and mistakes. “Thank you,” for the gesture of strength, the scale, and everything else in between. Gradually leaning into her touch, he unleashed another breath, the pondering eternally imminent. “Is there anything else we should be doing before the war?” Between watchtowers, weaponry, wall reinforcement, and the solar beam at the ready, they’d certainly done much, but Deimos had always been rooted in meticulous, precise preparation. And if there was still time…
Though Safrin might never get over the Sword's refusal to love her the way she wanted, she had come to accept and appreciate his steadfastness for what it was. He was dependable. Strong. Loyal. Those were qualities hard found these days and though love might have made him more than he could have dreamed, she could accept this for what it was.
Smiling softly at the press of his cheek in hers, like a dog taking a single step forward, Safrin removed her hand and took a breath. "The time for preparation has come and gone, at least when it comes to anything large. Halo will certainly need you, all the more so because you will have to leave her when the fighting begins." Sadly, for they'd never properly had this conversation before, the goddess explains. "The Cordillera...it is not a place we can venture. That is the need for demigods and our chosen."
Taking another breath, Safrin forces her smile to remain in place, potentially for her sake more than his. "So spend your time preparing Halo and making sure that everyone in your life knows truly what they mean to you." Once something along these lines had been a quest for Deimos, and perhaps a difficult one. Now at least Safrin hoped he could do it with ease.
09-23-2022, 10:31 AM (This post was last modified: 09-23-2022, 10:41 AM by Deimos.)
I carried my own ashes to the mountains
The news caused his spine to straighten, each point of bone notched and knotted. Confirmation of his suspicions after discussions with Noah meant he’d seen this coming, but there’d been no official capacity until now – and as much as his eyes craved to glance towards the mountain range, he kept his gaze on the herald. A long, slow breath unfurled, along with the apprehension for his home, for his people, and everything else contained within. It sounded like a death sentence, and very rarely did Deimos ever look inward to his own demise. Perhaps because he'd drawn himself into those blades so many times.
“All right,” sounded like acceptance in a low rumble. Maybe it was. Or his thoughts were immediately drifting to everything else that had to be done, people he had to speak to, lines he had to draw; never quite ready to leave despite how life had treated him. A crushing blow, swallowed down bit by bit until it gnarled its way through his chest. “Is there anything else I can do? Or need?” For such a trip? For himself? For others? Or was that just it? Items collected. Magic and shifts pooled. As ready as he was going to be for the inevitable.
"Remember you will not be alone. Noah, Ronin, and Remi will be there with you. Together the four of you have faced and defeated all that has come your way." But even Safrin was not so foolish as to think she could dissuade Deimos of his fears so easily. "Some say that size doesn't matter but..." Safrin crinkles her nose as she moves to cup both sides of Deimos' face once more. "Close your eyes."
And, assuming that he would, the Sword would feel a new itching within his bones. A vastness unlike anything he'd ever known that filled every void within his body before curling in on itself, content to wait until it was summoned.
Deimos has received the following mythical shift as part of his level 13 rewards.
He swallowed more down, nodding his assent. He’d fought alongside each of the named multiple times, forging their paths in demolition and liberation. And he’d probably be apprehensive for them too, even if two of them were immortal, the trepidation likely reserved for Noah in all the matters at hand. So he nodded, lifting his head upwards as her voice imparted again, surprised to find her hands cupping his face again –
Years before, he would’ve been too distrusting to think of closing his eyes. But he did so now, waiting, as something else segmented into his veins, into his enamel, into his bones. Another thread, another pull, another predator come to play in the mass of a man who’d encompassed so many already. There was half a notion at pulling at those ties now, to see, to embody, but instead he smiled, bowing his head again. “Thank you.” A gift; perhaps to strive further, deeper, into the voids of the world looming over their horizon. “I will do my best,” as he’d always tried.
Then they could part, both gone to their respective places.
