What do you get when two ruthless assassins raise their daughter travelling through the wildest reaches of Caido? Take one look at Theea and you'll get a pretty good idea. Cheerful and tenacious in equal measure, and curious beyond all else, she began her journey on a mission to find those her mother once called family. And find them she did, soon rubbing elbows with demigods, leaders and even ghosts from the past. Her determination is resolute, her thirst for knowledge unmatched. We can't wait to see where her next adventure takes her!
Congratulations, Theea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
"Hear one positive and one negative accounts of the Voice, Safrin, Ludo, or Frey from 8 different characters who have met them personally:
? I would like to Skip with MP"
03-02-2022, 01:25 PM (This post was last modified: 03-02-2022, 01:38 PM by Noah.)
Noah
"I'm not sure. I've never seen Remi in the shift that would have these feathers." As for a bite? He was confident (even if he was wrong), that Remi would not allow an ascended to take away one of his shifts from a drink. Noah shook his head, but looked to Sah. "Can I keep this?" He asked, but was already moving to place the feather in the pocket of his Frey-made jacket. If Sah suspected Remi, then Noah needed to confront him. He needed to talk to him before anyone else could and get to the bottom of the truth.
"She didn't deserve this." Noah finally said, having turned away from Sah and back towards Morgan. Though his rage towards the woman had been strong, and he believed she was making all of the right decisions, this was not how her death should have gone. "We will hold her funeral tomorrow." Noah looked to the healers, giving them the instructions and directions to initiate the preparations for her funeral pyre.
"The last fallen Warden did not get the honor of getting a funeral." He sighed, rubbing his hand over his forehead.
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?