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!
Did you know that allogators, the clue being in the name, are very adept at disguising themselves as floating logs?
Furthermore, did you know that regular floating logs can also deviously masquerade as allogators? No, I bet you didn't know that.
Fox does, though. (He does now).
After heading out in response to a Grounder's petition to deal with the livestock munching log-alikes, he's managed to track it to the very edge of the water. Only, upon springing his very-clever-you-wish-you-could-have-seen-it attack, the allogator has rudely bobbed up and down and drifted away downstream.
You know, like a regular log.
Which would be embarrassing and that's about it, but for one minor thing.
There are a lot of logs at the water's edge where he's standing, waist deep in the shallows. And he's certain that more than one of them has eyes.
Tal was still part of the Monster Hunter's Guild, technically. He hadn't resigned yet, mostly out of stubbornness and also a reluctance to try and talk to Deimos one-on-one again, but the end result was that he was a card-carrying member.
Which could be damned inconvenient when someone caught wind of that fact and asked him for a favor he wasn't sure he should refuse. He'd come to the Grounds to deliver a package and ended up helping rebuild the Town Hall and now here he was, out in the Islands and fuck if he was coming back again anytime soon.
Turned out there'd been more than one rancher complaining about the allogator attacks recently, and now the courier scowled as he prowled along the shore (but not too near), Dagger at the ready and suspicious glare leveled at all the motionless logs that could be deadly predators! ...Or just wet wood. How the fuck was he supposed to know?
Boreal circled lazily overhead, and the dragon called his attention to something unexpected in the water a little ways ahead. Tal picked up his pace and then stopped short at the definitely-not-a-gator standing there in the water, doing who-knew-what. "Uh. Shit, sorry, didn't mean t'interrupt..." Was the guy even wearing pants? Tal couldn't tell, and frankly wasn't sure he wanted to find out. "I'll just... keep goin'..." He started to shuffle past from the nice, safe, dry shore.
Listen, okay? It's fine. He just needs to survey the situation properly and absolutely not move until he's sure the logs nearby are just logs, and not... you know. Bitey.
Which is exactly what he's doing when a voice rings out, Fox glancing up from where hazel eyes have been very much pinned on the numerous floating predators. "I was just--" he begins - lamely - but the stranger is already continuing to creep past.
And Fox is absolutely going to let him, feeling his ears grow hot as he goes back to his Very Serious Hunting, were it not for the log he can see creeping along behind the man. Well, shit.
"Uh--!" he calls out helpfully, waving an arm to try and get Tal's attention. "Don't freak out, okay? But there's something behind you and it might want you for lunch." So saying, Fox absolutely starts splashing the water to get the gator's attention.
Tal didn't want to know what the guy was 'just' doing, up to his waist in cold Flowerbirth seawater and staring at the scenery. Maybe he was an innocent cranberry farmer (was that how cranberries worked??) or maybe he was high on life, but either way it wasn't the courier's business, and there wasn't likely to be any allogators around if a man was contentedly standing there zoning out. So this piece of the shoreline had to be safe, right?
Sure, Tal.
For three long, blissful seconds he thought he was going to get out of this awkward interaction and go back to his Definitely Professional Hunting, but then there was waving and yelling and splashing and--
"That's just my dragon," Tal said confidently, continuing to scoot past with a worried eye at the crazy man and his weird interpretive water aerobics.
Somewhere high above and definitely not right behind him, Boreal looked offended.
At least it made the wandering log pause, looking between Splashy and Oblivious with its small reptilian brain kicking into overdrive at the veritable cornucopia of choice that Frey had just put before it.
Fox doesn't know how cranberries work and if high on life involves this, he'd quite like to get down now please. Especially as the stranger informs him that the allogator is, in fact, a dragon, and there's so much confidence in his voice that for a second Fox actually believes him.
Except the prowling log behind him is much larger than even the largest companion he's ever seen, and he's sure dragons don't look that smiley. (Get it? Because of all the teeth? Ha ha. Ha.)
"I don't think--" Fox begins, by which point the allogator finally makes its choice, and it's both a good and a bad thing for the Ancient. Good, because it has apparently chosen not to go after the man strolling on the shoreline (it's quicker in the water, after all), and bad because of the obvious repercussions of that choice for Fox.
So as the allogator slinks towards him like a bit of large and deadly driftwood, he's filled with both relief and regret.
It was probably lucky for both of them that Boreal wasn't the type to take being insulted from a distance. At least, not by her very own chosen human, who was too busy worrying about the man in the water to realize there was an even bigger scaly problem behind him.
She was pretty sure Tal had only survived as long as he had because he had her to look out for him.
Folding her wings, the dragon turned in the sky and dove with a flash of predatory glee. The emotional pulse finally caught the courier's attention and he looked up in surprise to see his companion above him instead of behind him. He wasn't given time to look back, however, before she completed her strafing run, breathing a jet of fire over the stalking log before lifting back into the sky.
There was good news and bad news for Fox at this development.
The good news was that the allogator, now smoking along its topside, was no longer hunting him.
The bad news was that it was now charging for the water to escape the burning along its back, and it was directly between him and the shore.
Oh, the stranger does actually have a dragon. How about that.
Fox reminds himself to be quietly glad of this later, once... you know, he's gotten over what's happening. Namely the smell of burning swamp and the sight of the allogator thrashing into the water, death-rolling towards him like a charred log-with-teeth.
"Fuck," he agrees with the other man, though Fox sounds perhaps a touch more deadpan about the whole situation.
And he's already moving, at least, so that ups his chances of survival, right?
As the allogator nears, the Ancient is floundering with something under the water, and when the creature surfaces, it will be greeted to Fox jamming a small, hollowed out log (a logette, if you will) over its scaly snout. It'll do for a second of distraction, he thinks, and promptly makes a beeline for the shore. "Run!"
Given that Halovian alligators (or allogators, for that matter) weren't really a thing as far as Tal knew, he had no idea how long the impromptu muzzle would hold. The stranger didn't need to tell him twice; he might have been a member of the Guild, but he was no stalwart hero. The courier started backpedaling as soon as the other man reached the shore, keeping his eye on the water and all the suddenly sinister-looking logs floating in it.
Including the one that was now thrashing madly about and angrily death-rolling as its stubby legs proved too short to reach the hollow wood jammed over its long pointy snout.
Which, come to think of it, was probably what he'd been sent out here to take care of. He slowed his retreat and pulled out his Dagger, scowling at the frothing water around the irate allogator and measuring the distance with a wary eye.
He did not want to end up in the drink again.
"Nice move with th'log," he muttered reluctantly. "Got any more good ideas?"
Trying not to think about how inelegant (read: stupid) he probably looked trying to frantically wade to dry land, Fox gets himself beside his new apparent ally lickity-fucking-split. "Thanks," he pants, sweeping a hand back through his hair and glancing across at the other man. "You're staying?" He doesn't mean to sound surprised, but in fairness, Fox has no idea that he's staring at a fellow monster hunter.
Still, he isn't about to say no to a helping hand.
"I think killing it would be a really good idea," he reasons, falling back into a crouch and shifting at the same time.
The fyrhund's rocky armour plating is much more likely to shrug off a hit from an allogator's maw (not that Fox wants to test the theory, but here we are), and as the murder-log out in the water finally snaps free of its muzzle, Fox unhinges his jaw (something to put on his dating profile) and lets loose a jet of fire towards it.
Thanks for what, Tal wasn't sure, but he shrugged laconically until the direct question turned his scowl to a grimace. "Guess so. Got a request to take care of a 'gator problem that's been eatin' cattle, an' this seems like it. Hopefully it's just the one out here." Did allogators travel in packs? A question worth asking, except his erstwhile partner-in-fuckery was suddenly going all Attuned on him and turning into a big, flaming dog.
He'd been chased by a big, flaming dog like that once. He spared a wistful thought for Fiadh and all the things that had never happened between them, but with the fyrhund going on the attack there was no time for nostalgia.
"Fuckin' hail," he grumbled as fire hit water and steam billowed up in a vast cloud around the allogator, hiding it from sight. Tal scrambled to pull his Goggles up from around his neck and over his eyes one-handed, squinting through them and edging reluctantly forward as their magic stopped at twenty feet out.
Which was better than ten feet, especially when an angry bitey log lunged out from under the water fifteen feet away and Tal stabbed out with his Dagger while back-pedaling again. "Shit shit shit I think y'pissed it off!"
Though the bloody hole in its shoulder from the Dagger probably didn't improve its mood as it opened its toothy maw and charged the man and Fyrhund with murder on its tiny mind.
Fox doesn't mind - he's kind of used to pissing things off, in all honesty. So as the allogator thrashes forward, burned by dragon-and-fyrhund-fire and with a neat puncture in its shoulder (impressive, he'll ask about that later), the Ancient figures that it's par for the course at this point.
What he doesn't figure is that the allogator's hide is about as tough as his own, and though he springs forward with a snarl and a lot of teeth as well, trying to get a grip on the reptile is like... like... well, it's like trying to bite a fucking log, okay? And thus we enter round two of Fox's Excellent Hunting Plan: allogator wrestling.
Shifting back and finding himself basically astride the angry scaly bitey thing, it's less yeehaw and more wow why. Doesn't stop him trying to grapple it though. "Stab it again!" he calls out.
Tal hadn't really thought things through with any complexity, but he'd been assuming something like "more fire and stabbing while backing up realfast" for their battle plan.
And you know what they say about assuming things.
A little ways above the melee, Boreal roared out encouragement as the Fyrhund leapt forward to the attack. Tal, meanwhile, watched in utter bafflement as the guy traded in his natural armor and big fuckin' teeth for weeny stick arms and fragile human skin. "The fuck are you thinkin'?? Change back, y'moron!" Was... was this what Deimos felt like, going on monster hunts with him and Sah???
He couldn't exactly abandon the man now, though, and the courier charged the allogator while grumbling under his breath the whole time, trusting in his Vest ThankyouLudoit'sanamazingandverydapperVest to protect him while he closed the distance so he didn't, you know, accidentally stab the man riding(???) the gator before he could launch a couple of quick jabs at the beastie's less-protected eye and into its open, snapping mouth. "Hey! Over here, ugly!"
Hey. Hey. They aren't tiny stick arms, he isn't a human, and moron is a very strong word, thank you very much.
All of that is to say that the other man is probably right, in retrospect, but once you're riding an allogator it's a bit late to start strategising. "Lecture me after it's dead!" he manages to call out, managing to steer(???) the gator away from the water where it's much less likely to be able to do a murder.
In the meantime, in a game of let's stab all the things, Fox hopes he isn't included in that statistic as he reaches for the knife in his - soaking wet, by the way - boot, trying to plunge it into the side of the allogator's skull and into its tiny, tiny brain.
You know what they say about solving problems and all.
Someday they'd look back and laugh about this, but that day was a long ways off and based on the assumption that Fox survived his wild ride. "Deal!" The courier hollered back. He didn't get to be on the giving end of a lecture very often and he intended to savor every word of it.
But that meant keeping the would-be cowboy alive while also not dying himself.
With two people stabbing it the allogator was absolutely done and it let out a roar of protest at the knife that suddenly punctured the side of its thick skull. It was the opening that Tal had needed as he skidded to a halt a meager handful of feet away and made a sharp jabbing motion with the Dagger in his hand, slipping the strike into the top of its upper palate and into the brain from below. The big gator thrashed, rolled, and then lay still, its yellow eyes slowly glazing over.
Tal wheezed a breath of relief and then realized that he'd lost sight of the other man. "Uh... you okay?" he asked belatedly as Boreal floated down to investigate the fruits of their labors.
