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!
It was extraordinarily tempting to hesitate in the streets to gawk at how different Snowcloack was from her hometown, but there would be time for that later. Besides, the cold made the prospect much less appealing, and it was never a good idea to act like a new arrival in an unfamiliar place. That sort of behaviour made you a mark.
"Because we're doing such a good job blending in," muttered Eden through chattering teeth. Yes, she'd bought a heavy coat specifically for this visit, but hadn't forked up the coin for all the things she wished she had now. Hat, scarf, gloves. Fur-lined boots. In fact, she'd hoped to sell her coat again without too much loss once she was done with this place. It probably wasn't even that cold out, but for someone new to a place like this, Eden felt the chill deeply. Hopefully she and her brother could find their father's contact quickly and be done with it.
"Did you say something?" Lorin asked her through stiff, cold lips.
"Never mind. Look, I need a few minutes inside before my fingers fall off."
Her brother had little motivation to object as Eden pulled them into a building which could possibly be called a tavern, or perhaps even an inn, just to feel a hint of warmth.
Eyes turned toward the strangers who could not have seemed more out of place had they worn signs that read WE'RE NOT FROM HERE. Lorin shuffled anxiously, but Eden flashed an unperturbed smile as she drifted closer to the giant hearth.
"Anyone want to help out a couple visitors? We're looking for an old family friend. And some weapons." In the brief pause following her words, she realized there was an implication there and rushed to clarify. "Those aren't related. I meant for, you know, the monsters."
do you know, the wind once whispered to me: "you're going to be amazing."
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Not known for any dawdling, Deimos had lingered in the Kraai for a short while, snagging at some information from local hunters. Polite and cordial conversation imparted, back and forth, until he’d learned those particular spiders had been almost everywhere, nodding along as he jotted down notes, mildly grateful Halo wasn’t the only one constantly pervaded by arachnid silk.
Interlopers and visitors were a frequent measure in the bar – and only gave him pause regularly to scrutinize. Primordial, war-borne habits would always be difficult to negate, so his eyes narrowed heavily on those whispering nearby, stuck, out of place, anxious shuffling and quick glances across the threshold. His brow arched, watching and waiting for something to happen, though he hadn’t expected one to meander near the hearth, and shout out into the vicinity.
Of course, heads turned.
With nearly the full attention of the bar on them, the Sword, ever patient and composed, remained in his residual and stoic mannerism. He could see several patrons then gaze upon him, and he knew where this was going, so from his leaning stance against the wooden counter, his deep rumbling voice followed the peculiar announcement. “Who are you looking for?” The weaponry issue could be settled later.
Blue eyes flitted quickly to the source of that voice, deep enough in the watchful silence to tickle Eden's belly. He was an intimidating sort, especially for a city girl like her, who hadn't had much experience with those who dwelled in Halo. They seemed made of rougher stuff here, tempered by hard living. This man specifically must have gone through Some Shit.
Suddenly Eden felt much younger than she was, as if her twenty-two years were filled with nothing except toys stuffed with cotton candy. But she wasn't the sort to be cowed. She felt the discrepancy between them as a personal challenge. Eden squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a fraction, decorating her face with her most charming smile.
"A man named Goru Farkas," she answered simply. If that wasn't enough, she could try to invent more details, but the truth was, she didn't know very much about him. 'Family friend' had been a bit of an overstatement; all she and her brother had to go on was a name and a town, scribbled in the margins of one of their fathers' ledgers. Was he a buyer or a seller? Was he shady or on the straight and narrow? The most she and Lorin could really hope for from him was a bit of history, but if they walked away from a meeting with a steady line of procurement, they'd be one step further from bankruptcy.
Eden took a step toward the counter on which the man leaned, almost in defiance of her own growing nerves. "My own name is Eden, and this is my brother, Lorin. Who are you?"
A few laughs answered her question first.
do you know, the wind once whispered to me: "you're going to be amazing."
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Unbothered by defiance or squared shoulders, as he was often a seditious sort himself, he merely continued to lean, the habitual brow arch remaining firmly in place. The charming smile didn’t affect him either, listening to the information while the rest of the bar murmured around them. Luckily for the strangers, he did know the name, because he made it a point to do so, as a guardian of the mountain world. “One of the merchants?” His eyeline drifted away from her and the other, towards the windows of the Kraai, where the wake of the snow land hustled and bustled up and down the street. “Few blocks over.”
While the rest of the inhabitants might have found the inquiry humorous, given who he was and what he’d done, the Sword couldn’t, and wouldn’t, care if he was ever a household name. Actions might have preceded him, and sometimes they didn’t at all – fine, by his regards. Taking in her offered title, and that of her family, he committed it to memory, nodding. “Deimos.” Eventually maneuvering off the bar, and returning to his full height and stature, he motioned towards the door, long strides taking him a few paces over, and opening the aperture. “I can show you where his shop is.”
A flicker of Eden's eyelids showed her surprise. Surely it couldn't really be that easy? She'd been in town for all of five minutes (an exaggeration), walked into one pub (the only one?) and asked a single question. Was Farkas that well-known? "That's him," the girl confirmed, which was the truth insofar as she knew, unless there were several Goru Farkas's walking around in this freezing hellscape. And he was only a few blocks away.
Colour bloomed on her cheeks at the laughter. Somehow, asking who the helpful, composed man was had made her look foolish. The short beat between her question and his answer seemed to last an eternity and a half, but at least when his reply came, she understood the reason behind the chortles. As new to the rest of the world as she was, Eden Query still recognized the name of a renowned ruler when she heard it. This was not just any stranger, but Deimos. And unless there were as many Deimoses out there as her imaginary Farkas multiples, this had to be Deimos Ignatius.
Right. Of course.
With great force of will, Eden bit back whatever silly words threatened to escape her lips as The Resurrected Freaking Sword walked to the door and offered to escort the Query siblings to Farkas's shop. She dared a glance at her brother, who was distinctly bewildered and starry-eyed, before summoning the scraps of her dignity. It wasn't really the sort of offer one refused from the Warden of an entire region.
"That would be greatly appreciated... Deimos. Thank you." Did it feel wrong to use his first name? Undoubtedly. But that was the name he gave, without all the bells and whistles, and Eden didn't know how else to address him. Mr. Warden? Sir Sword? He towered over her as she led Lorin through the door and back into the cold.
"Have you..." ...lived here long? Stupid question. "Is Goru..." ...a decent man? No, she was already supposed to know him. (And why, exactly, had she decided to say that in the first place?) "What is your favourite thing about this region?"
Really? That's what she landed on?
do you know, the wind once whispered to me: "you're going to be amazing."
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Patience was one of his few virtues, and so he vaguely tilted his head as the siblings seemed to be surprised or bewildered, strung together into silence for a few moments more. But this would not be the first, nor the last unfortunately, where another had given great pause after his name – especially since the war – and he wasn’t certain he liked it. Never one for craving or yearning recognition and attention, the Sword was far more content tending to the shadows, or quietly training his warriors; leadership had ensured that wasn’t going to happen for a while. So he muffled a sigh in his chest, ignoring a few vacant chortles, patted a familiar individual’s shoulder nearby, and went out the door as soon as the agreement hastened through.
Venturing out into the sanction of the Citadel was more his style, and he pocketed the notes taken, eyes going to the horizon, chin rising at the bountiful wind contorting down the alley. Waiting for the others to follow, he matched his pace to theirs, though noting the brother seemed to have gone quiet. “You are welcome.” Treating visitors with some air of reception, and healthy suspicion and skepticism, had been a work in progress. But this also gave him an opportunity to avoid paperwork.
The series of non-questions caused another brow arch, uncertain where the notations were going, until they seemed to finalize on…Halo itself. Not a customary inquiry made by strangers, but certainly something he’d answered before. Stifling a snort, or a chuckle, he gazed out along the streets, leading them down one path. “The people and the landscape.” The former for their hardiness, and the latter for its beauty, danger, and aloofness. Considering turnabout was fair play, the Sword’s attention meandered to both strangers. “Where are you from?”
Eden shoved her hands in her pockets to protect them from the chill. Though they were still numb, she noted with a wiggle, she couldn't have been more grateful to escape the judgment of a bar full of locals who didn't find her very impressive. Never sing to a dead room, as they say.
The people and the landscape.
Okay. Usually when Eden asked someone a question about their favourite anything, more than five words were used to describe an answer.
"Stormbreak," began Lorin, finding his voice. He always had been the most shy of the Query clan, but the availability of such a definitive answer seemed to prompt him. "We're traveling all over the place now, though."
Like a dog with a bone, however, Eden couldn't let such a succinct response go. "You could say 'people' and 'landscape' about any place, though, and it doesn't tell you anything. What makes Halo stand out, in your eyes?" If there was a poet hiding behind Deimos's taciturn demeanor, Eden sought to draw it out.
do you know, the wind once whispered to me: "you're going to be amazing."
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Taciturn to a fault, Deimos often preferred reticence to any small bits and pieces of conversation. Used to worlds where words were used as weapons, or wielded against one another, he’d learned to simply say not much at all. Actions defied his existence – from warfare, defenses, shielding, and preservation, down to the small bouts of kindness he occasionally enacted upon the people around him. Or mischief, when comfortable and around loved ones.
But these were strangers, from another land, and it made him all the more stoic and unyielding; a piece of steel.
Arching his brow at the admission of Stormbreak, he waited for something else to coincide. Perhaps the brother employed the same measures as himself, which made him stifle a snort. The floating island had been an enlightening fixture as of late, due to the impending alterations with abolishing defenses against Abandoned. Expecting something else from that – either a sneer, due to his own magically enhanced blood, or anything else, the dissipation into traversing left him less rigid through his shoulders. “What has been your favorite thus far?”
Eden’s reaction though gave an arch to his brow as he turned another corner, yielding their direction to another street. A very faint smirk etched its way along the corner of his mouth. “Interact with the citizens long enough, and you will see why.” Hardy, determined, stalwart, giving no inch to the world around them. The landscape was easier to define though – and his eyes went towards the horizon again. “The terrain is beautiful as it is treacherous. The Sea of Glass is a sight to behold,” a recommendation from his rumbling tones, “and our hot springs, while a new addition, have the ability to heal.” His gaze turned back to hers in a flattened stare, as if to say ‘good enough?”; a rogue little challenge.
07-28-2023, 11:32 AM (This post was last modified: 07-28-2023, 11:34 AM by Eden.
Edit Reason: forgot a sentence
)
Eden
"Probably Torchline. Easy to get lazy in a place like that, though," her brother mused, and Eden had to agree with a dip of her chin. Fewer clothes were far preferable to an excess of them. Less to carry.
Gnawing on peoples' tendencies helped to pass the time; one gesture Eden would surely remember about this sturdy, giant man was the way the arch of his eyebrow peaked in imitation of the land's jutting mountains. How many times had he done this now? It was, truth be told, quite a tease, because it meant so much more was happening inside his head than he allowed to leave his mouth. That mystery prodded at Eden's curiosity. Stabbed at it like whatever weapons he surely wielded.
But her own verbal probing had evidently had an effect, as a string of words longer than any he'd offered so far emerged in his deep rumble. She caught the slight upturn of his lips in her sidelong glance his way, and a matching smirk found its way onto her own mouth. Finally he revealed something about himself, and the land on which he walked, which Eden might not have appreciated until stated in blatant terms. He favoured the beauty of harsh things.
The redhead halted her steps pointedly, sweeping her cerulean gaze around the landscape in question with a new perspective. Brutal, imposing, wild. To dare to survive in a place like this one was to dance with the forces of nature and play games with the gods. Her eyes landed back on her new, temporary companion. Then she nodded, almost as if in answer to his unspoken query. Yes, there was passion in that guy somewhere. Perhaps the citizens of Halo were similar; tough on the outside, sentimental on the inside. Her teeth flashed a cheerful grin before she resumed her steps.
"Perhaps we'll find you for a tour of your landmarks once we've finished our business," she volleyed. It was anyone's guess as to whether he'd take her up on that or find somewhere else to be, but there was a little challenge of her own laced through the words.
"We'll have to rent rooms if we're planning to stay," cautioned Lorin, who was far more scrupulous regarding their coin than Eden was wont to be.
"Mayhap we could work for our keep," Eden volunteered with a touch of stubborn argument in her voice. There was a hunger in her now to see the Sea of Glass and the hot springs, and interact with the citizens as Deimos had (somewhat snarkily) suggested. Lorin hummed noncommittally, as if contemplating how he might change his sister's mind.
do you know, the wind once whispered to me: "you're going to be amazing."
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The brother’s musings were spot-on about Torchline – for while the Sword loved the ocean, he could see where the days would blur, sometimes meaningless, down on the beach and sand, drunken and sprawling. "Agreed. Though it is not without its amusements.” Short-lived and short-versed, but held its place amidst Caido.
And while he would eternally bow and vow to the merits of Halo, from its sturdy people and stalwart structures, to the treacherous wakes of its endless, waking halls, being a tour guide was not on his list of achievements. Despite the challenge and goading prompted there, his nose wrinkled, immediately finding fault in such a plan. “Cannot say I would be the best for the job. Noah, Talyson, or Hotaru would be better on that front.” Noah for his Natural capabilities, having lived and tracked all his life, Talyson, capable of talking on incessantly, or Ru, who could easily charm while extending out the virtues of the world. If that didn’t avail either of them, he could always use the Warden card and flee to other responsibilities.
Listening to the two slightly bicker made him hide another snort as they walked further down the lanes, not opting to intrude on whether or not they’d stay amidst the mountain’s quarters. Instead, he pointed in the direction of accommodating establishments. “We have several inns here,” for the wayward travelers embarking on hunts, training, or traversing, as they went along the continent.
There were few pleasures more rewarding than stretching out her legs in the soft, warm sand as waves lapped at her calves and a cold drink trickled down her throat. Amusements, indeed! Picturing the brawny guy doing the same could have sent Eden into a fit of heartfelt, gut-busting laughs, and it would have, if she hadn't bitten her lip and caught the first of the chuckles in her throat before they could build.
Her taunt phased Deimos not at all, who ever so kindly recommended others who might be better suited to entertain two out-of-towners. One did not, she supposed, hold leadership over an entire peoples, who could be so easily pushed into things. She repeated, "Noah, Talyson, Hotaru." Then she hummed softly. "The same Talyson who carried us to Torchline? We're already acquainted. He did mention heading this way. Who are the others?"
She quickened her step to stay apace of Deimos rather than following behind, ignoring her brother's reticence. "Which do you recommend for visitors who need short work?" A half a beat. "And maybe we could drop your name as a reference?"
As if Eden had ever done a day's work outside of maintaining her struggling, inherited shop.
do you know, the wind once whispered to me: "you're going to be amazing."
07-29-2023, 08:39 PM (This post was last modified: 10-29-2023, 09:47 PM by Deimos.)
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Contrary to popular belief, Deimos did relax, but it wasn’t very frequent, and loved ones usually had to pressure him into it. But the ocean had always caught his eye because of lands where he’d been born, diving beneath the waves, or relishing the power of the water for what it was worth, either in his shifts or by his own merits. The same platitudes flowed through his veins, familiar incantations in blood and ichor. So when opportunities struck, he sometimes took them amidst the cry of the gulls and the warmth of the sand.
Content that his listing of other resources worked, his head tilted vaguely. That they were acquainted with Talyson didn’t surprise him – the courier was a traveler by occupation. “Noah Olson is the demigod of Vi, an advisor of Halo, and one of our strongest hunters.” The Sentinel would be more than capable of showing anyone the platitudes, heights, dangers, and beauty of the world – given that he was a Natural in his sanction. “Hotaru Kaito runs the Arcane Academy.” He left out the purposefully charming demeanor of her nature, figuring some things were best left up to surprise.
The other question caused him to snort, because few things in Halo were ever easy. “There is always hunting,” came along a slight grin, another goading measure, because he had a feeling neither would survive out there for long, and it was jocular at best. “Hotaru also has a spa. Perhaps she could give you some work there. But there are always merchants looking for runners.” And a wide variety of other things to spark interest and intrigue; gathering amidst the greenhouse, guard duty along the Citadel walls. As for the use of his name, he choked down another laugh. “Depends on your commitment to work. I do not recommend idle individuals.” For Halo couldn’t ever rest on those unwilling.
From there, decisions could be made, and journeys begun.
