The Blighted

Mikhael of Maferath

[blightedmikhael]

Cambion || Warrior's Guild & Vanguard of the Light || Ankhurian

About || Biography || Skeleton || Connections

Tags: Visage ; About ; Headcanons ; Selfparas ; Musings ; Music ; Edits

[theonxepialos]

There's a mild scowl emitted from Theon as Mikhael felt the need to clarify his surprise, the incubus slowly shaking his head, “You let a guy see your face one time and he has to act like it's revolutionary when you're out running errands.” Theon's eyes follow as Mikhael's sweep over the current booth, mere trinkets and other useless jewelry within it. It's fair for the other to be surprised at the more pedestrian clothes Theon is wearing, its a rare sight, but this only allowed Theon to be further vexed in association. 

“Did you need something? A bracelet perhaps? Or one of these lovely accent earrings.” He refrained from flicking Mikhael upside the head, he didn't want to scare him off entirely. 

[blightedmikhael]

“For all I know you manifest out of dread whenever you want to bother me or someone else,” he says with an easy shrug as he eyes the jewelry thoughtfully. It’s been a while since he had bought a gift for his mother, and perhaps sending her something would help her get rid of some of her worries as to how he is fairing with the current events in Lysara. It’s not much, considering the chaos that has taken root in the entirety of Taravell, but he would like to diminish her worries if he can. 

“A bracelet might be a good idea, I am in dire need of a gift,” he says pleasantly, reaching for one with gemstones the color of his mothers eyes and examining it carefully. “But then again, I wasn’t the one that stopped in this stall first.”

[freydis-freydat]

“Instability seems rather reliable, but regrettably the list ends there,” Freydis agreed. She had long since learned that if she allowed every tragedy to tear her bleeding heart apart she would never recover and fall deeper and deeper into a pit of resentment. But she still wept far more often than she cared to admit. “What is it that they say: hope for the best but prepare for the worst?” Her thin smile flattened at the mention of the Aethereans and the Kossith–she knew each better than she wished to. 

Despite herself, Freydis began to laugh at Mikhael’s statement. Part of it was out of entertainment and part of it was out of spite–not spite for the man in her company, but toward all that needed to be vanquished. “Then I suppose it’s a fortunate thing that I highly suspect the two of us sitting here prattling on will not be the thing to bring this barrier down,” Freydis attempted to encourage. “I have come to look at it each of these past three days since it momentarily faltered. And I have nothing to show for it.” 

Freydis shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing particular on my end. My home is a short ride away from here, and I didn’t feel like burdening my partner with scouting today. But please–” she gestured toward a fallen log where they might rest and enjoy their apples. “Naturally, we have concerns about Haven given its proximity. I hear the invasion of the Kossith was a rather grim affair for them. People had barely let their guards down again and now…” She shook her head as she trailed off.

[blightedmikhael]

“Hope is a scarcity these days, but it is in this sort of situation when it is most needed.” Just as people seek His Light in the greatest moments of darkness, hope is always sought when everything seems hopeless. It is the most important thing to keep close to your chest when the battle seems lost, because without hope, what is there to look forward to? It comes suddenly, like the breaking dawn, and as fragile as it might appear, it can withstand even the strongest of winds. “Though it is difficult to prepare for the worst, when the bar for what could be the worst moves farther and farther away every day.”

They will all still try, for stopping trying in moments like this would lead to despair. Yet, for all they prepare, few could have accounted for the darkspawn invasion of Aventia, or the Kossith’s kidnappings. The Dark One keeps subverting their expectations with his every move, and yet for all their failures to properly prepare, there is no denying that there have been victories to be counted among these so-called failures. Every time, people survive. Every time, they avoid the worst outcome. It might be small, but in the grand scale of things, it is still something. 

“I only have a bit more beyond that, but a druid’s reassurance to the wrongness of the situation,” he comments dryly, not minding her laughter as she moves to sit on the pointed out log. “And I agree, it is a rather unfortunate time for this to be happening. Haven should have had time to celebrate Queen Aurea’s victory before having to deal with yet another crisis.”

[agnesisolda]

“It's like I said - your infernal ruses make you a stubborn man,” perhaps Agnes was lying, but as a genasi it rolled easily off the tongue; in any case, she found Mikhael woefully disconnected from nature regardless of any vital excuse for the cause. She could have tapped him on the shoulder or squeezed his arm, but the genasi was nothing if not dedicated to the role she'd granted herself; those unfamiliar with genasi and druids often related her to some woodland witch and Agnes did not ever mind the comparison. 

Still, her hands touched the sides of his face, fingers curling round as though she was about to bespoke a curse onto him, a small utterance of words allowing what language the wildlands spoke to bleed into his ears now. Sylvan, druidic; whatever critters were nearby would be what he could suddenly understand, even though none of it was sensible nor was anything which would solve their predicament. 

“Do you listen now? Can you hear it?”

[blightedmikhael]

“Yes, because between the two of us I am the stubborn one,” he says, sarcasm thick as honey as he rolls his eyes. There is something terribly frustrating about being held to druidic standards when he is not one, but rather almost the opposite in a way. He is as connected to nature as he can be with his circumstances, but even then, he is not a man made for the forest. He knows Agnes knows this as well, so at this point they are both just trying to outstubborn the other. 

He remains still, regardless, waiting for Agnes’ spell to take hold. And once it does, he takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he takes in the new sounds. It is similar to when he uses his few dregs of magic to communicate with animals, so he falls back to the state of mind he uses for those sorts of communications. It would be overwhelming, if he wasn’t used to similar guidances. Instead, it’s familiar and he can incline his head in acknowledgment, moving Agnes hands as he does. 

“I can,” he admits. “Now what?”

[justbelowthesurface]

Fabien Frankel as Anthony Grasso

Task l S01E02 "Family Statements"

[justbelowthesurface]

Fabien Frankel as Anthony Grasso

Task l S01E03 "Nobody's Stronger Than Forgiveness"

[freydis-freydat]

“You suppose?” she repeated with a hint of a wry smile. “I feel like we have been through so much in the last year or so that nothing that comes should surprise me. And then it happens. And it does.” Her voice was a touch quieter as she finished vocalizing her thoughts. But she and others always managed to endure, to overcome. At times that became exhausting, but Freydis was a duty bound woman and there was a certain devotion and determination that underpinned the exhaustion. “Does someone wish you ill?” 

Freydis could sense the split in Mikhael’s attention, she herself was focused both on the conversation and the barrier, but the situation seemed stable for the present moment. 

“That may not be the only concern,” Freydis commented. She didn’t think it was impossible or even remotely outside the realm of possibility that the Aetherians might launch a campaign to expand their dominion. But she also knew one was afflicted with the Blight, a critical disadvantage. “The Broodmother’s lair was within their territory as well. And many of the initial marches of the Darkspawn arrived in these borderlands,” she stated. Yes, Luna had slain the Broodmother, but Freydis deeply doubted she was the only of her kind. “Perhaps the Aetherian await. Perhaps a new horde of Darkspawn. Or perhaps something aimed to go within the dome rather than to leave it.” None of them had any way of knowing, but there seemed to be a universal understanding that they should be preparing themselves for something. 

She didn’t know how likely it would have been that she might have met Mikhael even if he had been more dutiful in making himself known in those early days of Iskaldrik’s exodus. She had worked closely with The Hand and The Princess as the time shepherding and leading as much as would be allowed for a female Jarl. She shook his hand and turned her attention back to the barrier. “What were you investigating specifically when we crossed paths?” she asked.

[blightedmikhael]

“Well, there are few things one can be fully sure during these times,” he says with an easy shrug. At this point it’s safer to assume the worst while hoping for the best, all the while praying that there will be a moment of respite, or that what is to come is not as dark as people would expect. Prayers and dreams remain hopeful, even as the reality around them darkens. “Not me specifically, but the Dark moves and it wishes ill for everyone, does it not? And that is without taking the Aethereans into account, too. Or even the Kossith.”

The Light is besieged by all sides, with countless forces working against a better tomorrow. All there is to do, now, it’s to fight against the tide, overwhelming as it might be. 

“Well,” he begins to say, a brow raised in alarm the more Freydis speaks, until a frown settles upon his expression. He had not been privy of what had happened to those who had been taken, but he had been aware of the constant attacks by the darkspawns that had followed the refugee march. To know that there was a connection between the two was alarming beyond comparison, especially considering they were already worried about the waves of darkspawns in the south. “That is even worse than I had worried about, to be frank.”

If he is to be honest, he has no idea which of the three would be the best case scenario. Frankly, he is not even sure there is a best case scenario. It’s rather grim, all things considered, but that doesn’t mean they stop fighting, on the contrary. 

“Nothing specific,” he admits slowly. “I am not very attuned to forests, but I tend to have decent instincts so I mostly patrol the border to see if I find anything worth nothing. You?”

[agnesisolda]

This magic ignited something within her, deep sated and restless, it spoke to what was yearning within Agnes and set this truest self of the Sting free. That which was so wholly tied to nature, the animals, of the runes which screamed currently. Agnes walked forward, bold and unashamed, likely too close for Mikhael's liking. “Mikhael, they are calling to you, but you let your infernal ruses keep you from listening. You wound me and are a disservice to yourself to think that your connection to the Darkness voids any ability to hearken to what these woods may say.” Her tongue clicked in obvious disappointment, but as there was work to be done, Agnes hardly missed a beat as she stood taller once more. 

The genasi picked up her hands, holding them in front of Mikhael and offering a moment of pause so as not to completely frighten him. “May I?”

[blightedmikhael]

“You misunderstand me, Agnes,” he says, amused, as the druid approaches. There is an instant of alarm, but he refrains from reacting in respect of their built rapport. As a professional guard, he is beyond used to clients or nobles to ignore his personal space, so all he does as she approaches is remain still, lips twisting wryly as he watches with a raised brow. “I wasn’t referring to my infernal heritage, but due to my sparse ability with nature magic. As well as being unused to forests, what with growing up in a desert and all.”

He is a ranger, a hunter by all accounts. He is not entirely separated from nature, but the nature he is more used to is that of deserts, coasts, and mountains. Woods are unfamiliar territory for Mikhael, and he is not too prideful to admit that. 

“Go ahead, I am curious as to what you are thinking,” he allows with an inclination of his head.

[freydis-freydat]

Freydis rode to the border often now, she had since the strange flickering of the barrier. She marked various trails making mental notes of which were quickest to access the arcane dome over the crumbled Kingdom and which routes provided the most coverage in the case that egress was needed. She knew several ways there and back to her cabin like the back of her hand now, her faithful steed engraining them like muscle memory as well. In truth, nothing much had happened since the initial weakening of the barrier, but Freydis was committed to the notion that it was only a matter of time. 

Footfall made itself evident by way of snapping twigs and the crunching of the first fallen leaves at her back. She sincerely believed any threats she would truly struggle to manage lay on the other side of the border, not this one, thus Freydis looked rather calm as she turned to take in the frame of a man. His visage dredged up something murky–muddled memories from Nornwatch Tower, but not true or precise recognition. 

“I would argue these times have ruined the meaning of that word… paranoia. No such thing any longer,” she called back across the clearing. She was much closer to the glimmering surface of the barrier. She had been hoping she might be able to sense if layers of its various arcane types might have been removed or if there was some sort of crack or fissure point. She was attuned to the veil at times, learning to dream, and practicing her ability to sense arcana, but she had yet to experience much success. But Freydis was a creature of deep faith. “I suppose that depends on what you are worried about specifically,” Freydis said, reaching into a satchel affixed to her horse’s saddle. From it, she produced three apples. One was offered to the horse, one was for Freydis, and one was offered to Mikhael. “I’m Freydis. I’m afraid I know your face, but not your name.” 

[blightedmikhael]

A huff of amusement escapes his lips, and he inclines his head as if to give the Jarless her point. When it comes down to it, the times they are living on are far too filled with conflict and destruction to leave things well enough alone. Any hint of something being off-balanced is a possible sign of a bigger threat brewing, and humanity cannot afford to be taken by surprise. Not anymore. 

“I suppose you are right,” he says, following his acknowledgement of the point with a vocal agreement. Every time something odd happened, there was a wave of horrors to follow in its wake and at this point it is just better to simply work towards prevention than to wait until there is a problem that must be solved. “When the world is in the shape it is currently in, there is no such thing as paranoia. The same way that it is not paranoia if you know someone wishes you wrong.”

Walking forward, he keeps an absentminded eye on the barrier. He truly cannot see any physical change on the matter, and if it was not for his odd encounter with Agnes, he isn’t sure he would know anything was amiss. Yet, he had encountered the druid, so here he was, following a gut feeling he had no way of defining. 

“I am worried about an Aetherian attack, if the barrier were to come down,” he admits, tone pensive as he reaches out for the apple, offering a quiet thanks as he does so. Biting into the battle, he chews carefully and considers his words a bit more deeply. “Or to have another sort of horror unleashed upon Lysara, when there is already so much the country has to contend with.”

A sigh escapes him, eyes dragging away from the barrier to look at Freydis and offers her a small smile. 

“No need to apologize, I did not distinguish myself much during our journey to Lysara,” he says with a shrug, before extending the hand not holding the apple. “Mikhael, it is a pleasure.”

[lonelyvampx]

Fabien Frankel at HBO’s Task premiere, New York City, Sept, 2025

[blightedmikhael]

who? @freydis-freydat where? Border with Iskaldrik

Whenever he had the time, Mikhael had taken off wandering the border with Iskaldrik, the grip on his spear tight and assured. There had been something odd about the trick of the day the other day, something even odder to his encounter with Agnes. Whatever the druid had sensed, it was enough to call to her and that was enough to worry him. There was change in the air, and perhaps he was being paranoid, but he would rather be prepared if the wall between them and the Aetherians fell. 

This trip to the woods was like any other, not meant to take too overtly long. It was just a check, a reassurance that there were no changes to the barrier and that he could return to Haven, the Inn or Eterna, without a worry. He had yet to see anyone on his journeys, so it had been a surprise when he had walked into a clearing near the barrier and seen a familiar figure in the distance. 

He didn’t know her, not really, but recognized the face. Who could not recognize Freydis after their journey out of Iskaldrik? She might have been taken like the others, but that only made the Jarless altogether more memorable. 

“Here I thought I was being paranoid with my desire to check on the boundaries,” he commented from where he stood at the entrance of the clearing, hand relaxing around the pomme of his spear as he offered the Shield a nod. “I take it I am not?”

[blightedmikhael]

who? @theonxepialos Where? Mercury’s Bazaar, Eterna

Yet again, he is surprised to see Theon in the wild. The man seems to be as suited to the shadows as Mikhael, yet much less likely to open himself to the touch of the light if he could help him. Finding him wandering the markets as he is trying to resupply on potions and other basics for his adventurers’ kit is odd, considering the brightness of the sun and the lack of violence in the vicinity. 

“I am aware I have seen you in broad daylight, and under the desert sun,” he begins as he moves to stand next to him before one of the booths, looking around curiously. He wonders what had driven the other out of the shadows, this time. Perhaps another job? “Yet, I cannot help but be surprised every time.”

[liriennoctis]

"That would..." Yes, paint the picture to the people that he's some fragile waif, he quite liked the sound of that. Him, soft, delicate, too fatigued to go on. Lirien smiles all the way up to the eyes at the thought and the corners of his lips quirk upwards in amusement. "Yes, that will do nicely." As if to show how pleased he was with the suggestion, he smooths down the collar of Mikhael's shirt and offers him a little pat on the shoulder before he turns on his heel. The wolves descend immediately, a small cluster of men who'd left the Harmonium a few years ahead of him, fellow alumni. One of them waves a greeting and Lirien smiles back but nudges Mikhael's side with his elbow gently. "Wine before any of the vultures, I think."

[blightedmikhael]

“I am glad my suggestion passed the muster,” he  says, amused at the mental image that they would be painting with their little show of theirs. It would not be the first time that he would play the intimator, nor the caretaker, but it always brought a glimmer of amusement to do so, considering his usual temperament. That amusement settles itself on his chest as he follows his current boss faithfully deeper into the embrace of the beast. He is half-way through preparing himself to the odd bardic conversations, when he feels Lirien nudge him and he tilts his head up to meet his eyes and nod. 

“Of course, follow me, please,” he says softly, moving to place himself naturally between Lirien and the other bards and gestures towards the wine table as he begins escorting him in that direction. He is nothing but a human barrier, but the bards are aware of social niceties to an absurd degree, so they will see the blockade for what it is. “Any preference on the wine?”

[agnesisolda]

She felt the grit of the soil between her fingertips, hearty and alive, though not with the arcana Agnes had hoped to seek as though it would be a compass alighting the way. Agnes stood again, her head crooked to the side as she studied Mikhael the way she always had; cryptic, nearly disturbing, a strange look painted across her visage. "Mikhael, the woods are the worst place to escape such introspection, they listen even when you do not speak aloud, and the things within hunt for your secrets."

The genasi settled on her cryptic banter as he poised the question back, Agnes shooting a rather withering look that said 'of course something called to me'.

"Nothing I can wholly confirm, but it whispers, and the volume at which it speaks is growing." This slow boil, from something quiet and indiscernible to a volume in which Agnes was certain would become a harrowing scream. "The runes, the woods, they're ignited with this anxiety, I can't quite explain it yet; which is equally as frustrating to me as it is to them."

[blightedmikhael]

“You are more attuned to them than I,” he reminded dryly. He was no druid, not a being naturally connected to nature. All he knew of it had been born from effort, and those efforts had not focused on forests or anything of the sort. If the woods were to listen to his deepest desires and parrot them back in mockery, he would be unable to listen, unlike Agnes. Perhaps he has to thank his cambion heritage for it, or perhaps his upbringing in the desert. “And my secrets are not all too interesting in comparison to others, I would think.”

Catching Agnes' look, he raises his hands in playful surrender, taking no offense at the sharp quality of it. 

“I would offer to help, but I cannot even hear the whispers and I assume that makes me beyond useless in matters like this.” It is concerning, though, that the sound is increasing and in such an alarming manner. They are altogether too close to the Iskaran border for such an omen to mean anything good, and he worries that it means that Aetherion will be making a move soon. They had been silent for far too long. “Perhaps patrolling? I might not be able to listen, but my eyes are rather good.”

[thefluffersblog]

Fabien Frankel

[agnesisolda]

starter for OPEN.

where: iskaldrik border/haven/wildlands

when: current timeline

note: spoopy

The moon was nestled high within the sky when Agnes awoke, restless and fitful the genasi had often been tormented by the Dark these last few months. Cruelty for a thread she had willingly bound between herself and the Dark One, a promise that would be fulfilled no matter how fervently she fought in spite of the transaction made. This whisper which curled up her spine and nestled in her ribcage felt different; it's the first sign of hope in months, beckoned from the ripe crux of runes, but even Agnes understood she was not to trust it until she diligently peeled it apart at the root.

Brought where such sacred whispers lingered and grew in an urging symphony, Agnes found herself in the wildlands, drifting closer and closer towards Iskaldrik; a frigid land she never once concerned herself with. Something within beckoned, screamed, clawed towards her and the genasi felt suffocated under the looming presence which felt just out of reach.

A barrier weakened but not yet broken, she knew there was no path forward, but Agnes stood presently as though something would present itself as the way forward. Agnes felt the presence of another and unbothered by this, despite unknowing if they were friend or foe, she kneeled and rooted her hands through the soil as if magic was leeching into the soil and would paint a vivid picture.

"Something bleeds within. What secrets call you here?"

[blightedmikhael]

He had not headed into the woods surrounding Haven for any particular reason, other than that of being unable to fall asleep. While Mikhael continued his work throughout Lysara, weaving into and out of cities as he hunted his bounties or offered his services to all willing to commission the Guild, he could not help but return to Haven every once in a while. It was a matter of comfort at this point, to visit Haven or Stumble Inn once a job was done. Both places had welcomed him with open arms, and he sought that comfort whenever the world grew too quiet and he began to doubt.

Months had passed, but he had yet to forget the warmth of the sun, the comfort he had felt with the idol in his hands. It’s agony, to doubt all that had shaped him into who he was, so he tried to look away, tried to quiet the thoughts with jobs upon jobs, but silence always came back. 

It had found him that night in Haven, so he had decided to take a walk, hoping that having to keep aware of his surroundings at night would keep his focus away from introspection. Mikhael did not expect to find Agnes out here, nor did he have an answer for her. Not truly.  “None but my desire to escape introspection,” he admits with a grimace, eyes landing on Agnes as curiosity shines through. Perhaps this will be enough of a distraction. “Did something all you?”

[lonelyvampx]

Fabien Frankel, via @/m.m.f's story