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!
Putting the food aside, where it could sit for a length of time without wilting, the Sword sighed and pondered. His first instinct was always for infernos, a natural order of destruction and disaster – easily nuanced, carved, sculpted, and woven from his veins. “We can try setting it on fire,” with an ample shrug, motioning for Darkeye to follow him out the door – no intentions of setting his own house ablaze.
Grabbing a jacket and permitting the warpriest to slide through before shutting the aperture, he tucked himself into furs and seditiously raised his jawline towards the sudden barrage of bitterly cold wind, relishing in its depths. “We can go out back,” indicating the yard full of snow and various training weapons and targets – for he kept those at home as well.
Darkeye was curious and didn't know much about the bones of creatures this size... But it was a possibility. He relied entirely on Deimos for this. It was a good distraction from the previous conversation. There was a lot to consider, the tooth could be hollow and could shatter so easily. If it was solid, it would need a lot of heat.
"I rely on your expertise," said the dwarf. He looked at the targets a bit, the targets brought back memories of when he was fresh in this world. Back on the beach when he saw Deimos. A fun and above all better time. Did the dwarf become remorseful, it felt like that. He reminds himself to order, walk out in the snow, and put the bone to the side to help build a firepit.
Perhaps it wasn’t so much expertise as experience – fire consumed a multitude of things. He’d aided in destruction, and assisted in funeral pyres, the way the world could be reduced to ash. So he pressed deeper into the snow, arching a brow as Darkeye sought to make a pit – for the Sword wouldn’t need it. Not with the way he contorted and controlled flames.
But maybe it left the priest with something to do, so he said nothing.
He allowed the multitudes of power to be called to the surface of his veins instead, waiting, pooling, eager and fervent. “When you are ready,” was as much a warning as a dominion.
Darkeye simply put the big tooth in and stood aside. He didn't know what was going to happen. "The tooth must be split right down the middle, Deimos. I don't know how you're going to do that with fire. But I have confidence in your abilities."
His eyes darted to Deimos, wondering if he should fight for him or the people who couldn't protect themselves - he had to think about it. But first, it was important to finish the job here, then he could take time for himself. To look for a sense in the whole in the meditation. He was warned about Sunjata but he ignored it and now he had to find a way to deal with it.
Considering this was the first time he’d heard such a specification, the Sword’s brow arched. Thereafter though, he rolled and shrugged his shoulders, unbothered by the circumstances. “If the fire does not work, I have other magic to try.” Ice, with its frozen shards, slanting down, potentially capable of flickering and flaring the enamel apart, earth, with its careening edges and bombarding tactics…
But to start with the flames.
As promised, the flare was instantaneous; an inferno surging from his veins and prowess, the power an insurgent, infernal, seditious splendor, beginning to maul and surround and strive to consume, weaken, and diminish.
Darkeye was surprised by the flames and had to squint his eyes to see anything else. The heat emanating from Deimos was scary and fascinating at the same time. Fire was an element that could bring life but also destroy it. It was important to respect the flame.
Darkeye explained what he wanted. "I need it for the axes, I assume it must be in the middle." He pointed to his throwing axes hanging at the side. Then he placed the tooth in the prepared fireplace. He didn't know exactly how to work it afterward. Bone was always difficult to work on, especially if he had never worked on the animal before. Not in this size.
A nod given towards the directions and reason behind the notions of split enamel and bone, eyes flicking briefly over to the axes, and then back to the fire. Concentration honed and blistered as Darkeye tossed the tooth within, and the range of his power could be forged and scorched.
Flames consumed; it was their eternal purpose – to cause the world to succumb. In blazes of heat, in fortitude, in might, a vicious show of power and prestige and prowess when exposed to full potential. He’d done it before, time and time again, either in attempts of sanctuary or absolving another’s sanctity, in destruction, chaos, and then, moments like these: ensuring a quest was fulfilled.
Eventually, he flared the outsets of command to higher degrees, and then burned it all off – until the control was imminent, flaring, conflagration, a towering, burning bestial haze, and then nothing at all. Caught and snagged back into his soul – enough to give a hint of a grin, jutting his jaw towards the warpriest. “Check to see.” If that had worked – or if something else needed to occur.
Darkeye didn't take his eyes off the tooth for a second. The flames to this tooth made a macabre picture and seemed comically harmonious. As if it had always seemed that way. Nevertheless, it was from a certain point to
intense, he had to avert his gaze because the flames were too strong.
The flame resembled nothing of what the old dwarf knew. It was different from what he knew from Aventureien. He was curious if it was possible to break the old tooth. In any case, a lot of heat must have formed. Which now accumulated in the bones and the hiezte irgenndwohin had. So the bone burst due to the accumulated heat.
Darkeye now went and looked at the burst bone. He lifted the two bones now and showed them with much surprise the two pieces of Deimos with a slight smile.
The crook of his smile returned as Darkeye found the tooth – rendered in pieces. Whether or not the snicker had something to do with his own amusements at ranges of power, at the disbelief in the warpriest, or any other combination remained unsaid. The Sword tilted his head, content to watch for the moment, before the arch of his brow followed suit. “Do you need anything else?” Everything that’d been promised, foretold, loomed large and close, like a hovering, harboring noose, and any time they had left was surely dwindling – especially if this was for the cleric’s quest. Racing to the finish line seemed all the more overwhelming.
11-09-2022, 04:25 PM (This post was last modified: 11-09-2022, 04:25 PM by Darkeye.)
Blackeye
Not the strongest win the battle —
"I think I have delayed you long enough Deimos I thank you for your time and advice. I will not delay you any further. I have some things to think about and do. I thank you very much for everything I hope we can talk like this again soon but I think we both have a lot to do now." Darkeye suggests a bow and smiles, it was good to talk to Deimos and hoped that it would be like this again soon. He grabs the tooth halves and wraps them in leather again. The bone was still slightly steaming. He still smiles. He didn't know what would happen in the next few weeks. If he had known, he probably would have stayed here and helped Deimos. So he packed up his things and said goodbye to his friend
Deimos wouldn’t delay the cleric any longer, and the feeling seemed mutual. But the distinct layers between potential last meetings, as one was pulled towards the mountains and one was tied to nowhere in particular while war drummed against the backdrop, seemed all the more foreboding. He granted a nod towards Darkeye, uncertain where the man would end up, but if luck prevailed, likely surviving, coming out the other side with some new concoction or plan in place to rankle and bristle at the world. “Take care of yourself,” he granted, a tight smile forming, as maybe one last salutation, before hastening back to his own quarters and preparations.
