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!
Tal breathed as shallowly as he could through the scarf wrapped around his face to filter out the ash and smog that were a weird, hellish inversion of Halo's Deepfrost clouds and good, clean snow. Boreal floated overhead, riding thermals so robust and strong that she barely needed to flap and keeping the Gore Crows at bay while Tal moved cautiously over the untrustworthy Crust below.
His beloved ship Peregrine had brought them to the edge of the fiery land, but he'd anchored her at the border and well away from any unexpected lava fountains that might damage her. The rest of the way had been on foot, and he'd tread far more lightly than he had the first time he'd crossed the burning region. He'd hunted lials with Deimos here, once...
A memory he shook off with a morose sigh as he looked around again, trying to spot any lava flowing unnaturally or, better yet, in the convenient shape of a small cat. There were ceramic containers in his Bag for the little beasties, and he could only hope that they were strong enough to contain the heat of the wyrms.
"See anything?" he whispered back at his companion for the journey, voice low - as if that would make a difference in this land of creaking rocks and bubbling lava.
death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Deimos had taken his own way there – for discernible reasons – on extended thunderbird wings and notions of reticence. Even flying, though eternally enjoyable, liberating, and its own brand of freedom, had ruffled at his feathers, cultivated a deluge of rancorous thoughts in his mind. But he was far more committed to his land, enough to override the pettiness carving its way through his ribs, than to derision and irritation.
Landing, shifting, and altering into his residual stone-faced, monolithic presence, he was grateful to have Belial attending. The peryton could at least alleviate some of his taciturn nature, and Zuriel, despite traveling restrictions anyway, would’ve simply meandered straight into the insouciance with him, and then neither would’ve left – mired and rooted in their demeanors.
So while he said nothing at all as he traversed nearby, completely unbothered by the heat (not with the fire existing within his blood), or Belial’s obnoxious hooting, his piercing eyes flickered along apertures, precipices, and the unyielding stone, intending to catch an opportunity of snagging at the nearest lava wyrms. Bag of holding over his shoulder, and carrying several containers within, he figured if the animals melted through the fixtures and vessels, he could always make more. Something stronger.
Glancing at Talyson from the corner of his eye as the courier spoke, the Sword half-intended for it to come out as a growl. Instead, it was a low rumble from between a nearly-locked jaw. “No.” Turning to the right, his long strides swept over the ground with ease. “I am going to look over here,” pointing towards a wall in the distance, some brighter hues flickering along it.
He had expected anyone else to join him, in truth. Hotaru or Noah, he'd been almost certain. Delia, except for her pregnancy, would also have been likely. Even Sah had ended up on enough adventures with him that he wouldn't have been surprised to see the hunter there. Hail, at this point he figured Evie was more likely to seek out his company than Deimos.
Which had only meant that rare optimism had enough time to brighten the courier's demeanor at the news that the Sword had volunteered to join him, hopeful that the thaw had finally come. He'd badgered his sisters into helping make snacks, had planned for another Guys' Day at the Climb, gotten ready to depart with his metaphorical tail wagging--
But it had quickly become apparent that, whatever the reason Deimos had decided to join him, Tal could read no change in the Warden's demeanor towards him. Although he kept shooting the older man hopeful looks, Tal remained confused and subdued as they hunted along the Crust of the Climb, nodding in resignation at the intention to split their forces. "Yeah... okay. I'll keep goin' along here, then..." But it was Boreal, chasing an annoyed Gore Crow for the sheer fun of it, who drew his attention ahead to a dip in the Crust and a dollop of golden-red lava that was oozing its way uphill, against all logic.
Easing over the unstable ground, the courier groped into his Bag for the first of his containers, pale eyes intent on his prey as it momentarily took on a more solid form and stretched with a satisfied sizzling sound.
death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Where Deimos had no reason to thaw, he hadn’t done so – just as stone and steel forged he’d been in the previous year, if not more guarded. The Sword’s capability of holding a grudge might’ve been legendary, considering how many years he’d implemented one upon Sunjata, and so he remained impassive, expressionless, giving and offering nothing towards the courier.
Save for a nod to solidify movements and intentions. He caught the glimmer of maneuvering lava, a bizarre notion elsewhere, but certainly a sign of lava wyrms. Considering they needed quite a few, he left Talyson to his own scruples and capabilities, turning down the way he’d proclaimed previously.
Belial came along, swooping amidst the warm thermals, and the Warden’s long strides swept along the crust; until they found their own minor wyrm infestation. The beasts were unbothered, lumbering along in slow sweeps of lava and crimson plumes, and he arched a brow, following their motions. Within half a moment, he stretched out the opening of his bag of holding, snagging at the containers, intending to ready himself for the next set of incantations and notions.
Boy and dragon had been hunting as a pair for years now, and today was no different even if their prey was new. The formerly-white dragon - now grey from the ash in the air - spiraled down to land a little ways off in front of the lava wyrm, drawing its attention while Tal ghosted on silent feet across the hardened lava of the Crust behind it. Boreal grumbled a curious greeting to the little creature who responded with a sizzling hiss and an arched back, sparks and little lava droplets fizzing off it.
It must have sensed the movement behind it because it started to turn, but Boreal puffed a jet of fire at it to keep its attention on her. It spat right back, but the interaction gave Tal time to get into position so that when the dragon hopped towards the little wyrm, startling it to shift back into gooey lava and leap backwards away from the playful reptile, it landed directly into the thick, heavy ceramic pot that Tal dove to slide under it. He brought the lid down and snked the catch into place, grinning proudly as he leaned forward to knock his forehead against Boreal's in victory. "One down, three to go!" he informed her before sliding a net made of black iron links form his bag around the rocking pot and lifting it as they began to hunt for their next lava wyrm.
death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Presuming the courier hadn’t managed to injure himself in the brief interim, Deimos set to work, grabbing hold of nearby materials and components for the containers. If these wyrms were to remain alive, they would need some kind of specific environment to ensure their wellbeing and survival – so he quickly swept up a number of stones and crust to outfit the makeshift area. They’d be able to snag some kind of meat or vegetation once they were back in the Citadel.
Thereafter, hearing a round of hollers nearby, he shrugged his shoulders and fought off a roll of his eyes. Concentrating thereafter on his air incantations, the strong gales and currents intentionally plucked the animals off the wall – shocked faces ensuing – and no matter if they struggled against the enchantments, the Sword’s efforts held fast, efficiently and neatly placing them within the vessels, and then shutting the lid, breathing holes already placed.
To add to any obnoxious levels, Belial hollered loudly towards the dragon a distance away, proclaiming two.
Tal might not have understood the peryton's yodel, but Boreal's head shot up and she snorted in understanding before reaching out to grab her human's hand - gently - and tug him hurriedly back to the hunt. The courier winced and let himself be led along, knowing better than to pull back against those sharp teeth. "Yeah, I get it, back to work. Head up and see if you can spot anything from above." The dragon gave him an affectionate side-eye to make sure he was on task before letting him go and trotting ahead so she could take off without swirling up more ash around him. Tal rubbed his hand ruefully and padded after her, looking around with sharp eyes to see what he could see.
Closer to the ground, the courier spotted one a few seconds before Boreal did. She started to angle towards hers, but Tal called her back with a mental whistle. He'd spotted a little lava wyrm napping atop a basalt column thrusting up from the Crust like a dead tree and the placement was too good to pass up. Pulling a second pot out of his Bag, he pulled the lid back and tip toed towards the snoozing beastie. It cocked a glowing yellow eye at him from its safety atop its perch--
But the sudden rush of wings and gleeful roar that swept down towards it from behind sent it leaping down and away and Tal made an adroit dash to catch it in his pot. It almost managed to bounce itself back out before he could get the lid down, but the courier was just barely fast enough - if at the cost of a singed thumb.
Adding the second pot to the net of iron, he grinned at his smug dragon and sucked on his burn, shaking it off as he started to look around for Deimos. Boreal helpfully led the way back towards Belial's voice, Tal trotting in her wake. "Hey Deimos! We got two! How are you guys doin'?"
death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Between more beats of wings and gleeful roars, and then the following proclamation, Deimos had ensured the containers were tight and secure, before placing them in his arms. Following the minor stony path back to where the courier was grinning, the Sword merely arched his brow. “We have two.” Which meant they had more than enough – which was probably a safer bet than anything else.
Still reticent and hardened, his eyes meandered to where Talyson was containing his wyrms. “Do they have what they need?” With his see-through vessels already outfitted, the Natural would be able to see what the Warden meant – including breathing fixtures, rocks, and whatever else would be necessary to keep the animals comfortable. Especially where it may take some time to finish the other tasks. An additional bonus were both wyrms staring beadily at the dragon and her companion, one, perhaps, sticking its tongue out.
01-10-2023, 06:45 PM (This post was last modified: 01-10-2023, 06:46 PM by Talyson.)
The courier perked up at hearing that Deimos had been equally successful, meaning that they had enough for Halo - and one leftover for his own quest as well. In another time he would have grinned proudly up at the older man, but the Warden's hard eyes forestalled any further outbursts of exuberance and Tal wilted a little further under the comparison between his own simple clay 'fishbowls' and the large, fancy terrariums the Abandoned had crafted or obtained.
He'd been proud of his own ceramic containers before he saw what the Sword had devised. Though no potter himself, he'd commissioned the pieces from the Halovian artisan who made his fire pots, working with the craftsman to devise something both large enough and sturdy enough to contain creatures of living lava - at least for a little while - and keep them warm. Sturdy enough, too, to hold the heat and survive travel back from the Climb since he didn't dare put them back into his Bag without knowing if they could breathe in there.
"I... I dunno," he admitted, mumbling as he looked down morosely at his own lava wyrms. The lids were of a thick, heat-resistant glass and the one on top was glaring up at him through it, clearly displeased at being contained for any reason. The pots held nothing beyond the animals, however, and were functionally simple cat carriers rather than long-term living facilities. "D'you know what they like to eat? I figured we'd need t'make 'em a bigger enclosure when we got home, probably..." The wyrms should probably have been the last things they obtained so they could have gone straight to the Shrine with them, but surely they could keep the little spitfires alive for a few days while the springs were finished up? At least he could take one of them to Frey as soon as they got home, so they'd only need to house three.
Boreal, meanwhile, after contemplating the lava wyrm that was sticking its tongue out at her had decided it had the right idea, and extended her head to lick the outside of its container with a fire-breather's fine disregard for heat on her tongue.
death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Deimos glanced at the pots, the question reminding in the air as he lacked the ability to see through the containers. When the uncertainty still remained, his brow arched subtly, though not in any amused parameter – more or less surprised, perhaps, at the lack of forethought. “I could not find anything about their diet in the records,” pausing only for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. “So I intended to give them some things from the greenhouse and leftover meat.” In fact, the little wyrms could probably be contained within the latter – considering it had to be the consistently the warmest area in Halo.
Belial seemed eager and ready to feed into the dragon’s antics, but the Sword was in no mood for it, and quickly squashed any further attempts from unwinding perytons by maneuvering away, headed towards the skyport – as he wouldn’t be able to safely carry the vessels in talons. “We should head back then,” was another rumble. Hopefully by then the volcanic rocks would’ve been collected and snagged, and some other portions of the task could begin.
From his greater height the Sword could have seen into the containers through their clear glass lids as Tal was doing, but it was the courier's turn to be surprised that Deimos didn't already know what the critters liked to eat. Or hadn't sent out a Guild expedition to find out in advance of capturing the current batch for Frey, the way they'd done with the Frost Foxes.
His thoughts followed the same track as the Warden's at the mention of the greenhouse, and a spark of his enthusiasm came back in a vigorous nod as he looked up, pale eyes brightening with inspiration. "We could make 'em an enclosure in the Greenhouse, couldn't we? Ceramic tile or stone for the floor an' thick glass walls an' some kinda roof so they can't jump out an' burn the place down?" A risk, to put them amidst the flammable foliage, but the humidity of the building would hopefully provide some protection in case of a stray spark escaping. "So they have lots o'room t'scamper around until y'take 'em t'Frey?" A terrarium in truth, though Tal didn't know the word given the lack of cold-blooded pets in Halo.
He absently reached out to grab one of Boreal's horns and tug her back, the dragon's tail wagging as she peered at her tiny new friend in its glass container. Even if that glass was now smeared with dragon drool.
Tal knew of no skyport in the Climb, but he followed Deimos loyally as long as he was headed in the same direction that the courier's swift little boat was ground-anchored. As he went he surreptitiously scooped up handfuls of pumice and interesting rocks and tucked them into his Bag, taking his cue from the Sword's cozy little containers. "Yeah...sure." A question burned on the back of his tongue like a hot coal, but he swallowed it back, afraid to rock the tenuous neutrality they seem to have found.
death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Perhaps it was for the best that Talyson kept his assumptions to himself nowadays – the Sword would’ve had a lot to say about those particular presumptions. Running both the guild, Halo, and soldiers simultaneously might have meant he didn’t know the diet of a lava wyrm off the top of his head, but the kingdom still ran quite well without it. Besides, it could be another opportunity for hands-on learning for the occupants, rather than passing it along by word of mouth.
Deimos didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm, though the idea had been there before the courier continued the train of thought. “That was the intention.” Even if Talyson thought himself sneaky, Belial was still there, providing images of the youth scampering about and placing the stones within. The Warden fought off the notions of rolling his eyes, but merely kept it all to himself, strides taking them further into the threshold, and around several bends, towards the open cavern walls where the skyports were located.
Catching the Warden's lack of interest in his enthusiasm and the equally upsetting lack of communication in plans for what he'd thought had been a team exercise, Tal finally gave up and lapsed back into silence. He collected the additional stones and chunks of the environment quietly, just trying to stay out of Deimos's attention and not make more of an issue for the Sword.
Boreal returned to the sky to scout their path and harass the handful of Gore Crows that had dared to circle back in search of eyes. She was perfectly happy to chase them with joyful gouts of fire, much to their indignation and squawking threats as they flapped off to a safe distance.
But there came a time when their routes diverged if Tal wanted to make it back to his skyboat, anchored safely at the edge of the Crust and away from the more active volcanic elements. "Well... see you back home, I guess." He drew in a breath, hesitating, but finally exhaled as his shoulders slumped and he trudged off with a few mournful backward glances towards the Sword until the smoke and ash obscured them from each other.
