History

Born with his pod-twin sister Crystal, the two were quite an odd pair. One purple, one blue. One tall, one short. Instead of getting along, they instead argued, and poked fun at each other.

At first, Cobogan had an interest in the makings of mesmer magic, thus he took it up. His sister, instead, took to guardian, and the fire it could spawn. With different routes in magic choices, they rarely saw each other as they studied, even when they did, it was still the same ol' same of arguing. It seemed Crystal had a growing interest in the Nightmare Courtier's that roamed around the Grove, and wanted to approach one sometime, but her brother warned against it. Knowing it wasn't going to really end how she really liked it. But she took her brothers words with a grain of salt, and sneakily trailed after a courtier, and out of the Grove she went.

Not really seeing his sister much, wasn't really that off for her. But when it hit the week mark, is when he started to worry. He'd asked around the Grove, but he found grave news. A Warden had saw her walk off after a courtier. Pissed, and also a mix of more worried, and without so much as a single thought, the mesmer in training vanished to Caledon, in hopes of tracking her down. With little knowledge as to where she might be, he spent the better amount of time asking around Caledon, gather clues and whatnot, until he was pointed in the direction of a Court that had set up residence a while back. He decided to risk his life, and see what the Court might want in exchange for her, if that is truly where she'd gone.

The Court wasn't much, but of course, his 'sister' had been taken by them, or so what he thought looked like her. When asked, they presented a purple corpse, mangled without any key features. They gave him a choice, to either convert, or run for his life, least he end up the same. With little else to stay behind, and not wanting to end up like her, he fled, returning to the Grove. Broken.

The next few years weren't too kind to him, either.

Losing interest in the mesmer magic he was learning, and feeling cooped up in the Grove, he took to traveling to Lion's Arch instead, for work, or what else the city might have to offer. But it didn't take long for the wandering sylvari to be plantnapped, and forced into fighting for his life in a underground fighting ring. With what little magic he knew, it was useless, he could barely fight back. As punishments, they burned him, waterboarded him, starved him, and just let his wounds fester, and rot with no care. Thinking he would soon die, he thought better then of it, though. In secret, he started practicing bits of it here and there.. Fire magic, the stuff that his sister taught him on the side. Though red fire scared him shitless, the blue fire he conjured gave him a sense of hope. Enough for him to break himself out of the hidden ring, and run for his life from the city. He found himself in Gendarran Fields long after, collapsing in front of it. Soon to be discovered by Faust Deathfang, a Crusader among the Vigil at the time. The charr took him in, and nursed him back to health, and slowly helped him get back on his feet. Once well enough, he joined Faust in the Vigil.

Spending years in the Vigil made him tougher, though he still had a lot of idiotic moments, and did stupid things, but worst of all, was the feeling of wanting to die all the time. He never told Faust, or his squadmates of his depression, or how he was feeling. He was stationed in the Silverwastes as this was going on, and he often went out to fight Mordrem one on one, hoping they might kill him, but in the end, he was always the victor. As he was doing one of these so called 'Death Walks', he encounter a woman, purple, and a mesmer. She called herself Iziibel, and she inquired why he was doing what he was. He only told her it was none of her business, but accepted her offer to help with his wounds back at the main camp. And once that was done, he fell asleep. Upon waking up the next day, he found himself in a makeshift plant hut, in hells knows where. When Iziibel showed herself, she said she captured him to convert him to Nightmare. So here he was, about to repeat what his sister had gone through. Though it actually wasn't what he expected, Iziibel sort of forced him to fall in love with her, and when she thought him converted, presented him before the Court. But after he was allowed to join, she cast him aside like nothing happened. Lonely, and heartbroken, he just dealt with it, until another was shoved his way, called Jayliea.

Jayliea wasn't much better then himself, she had the same issues, and always wanted him to be sad sap, and dragged his mood down, the rare times he was happy. In the end, she ended up killing herself in front of him, leaving him pretty scarred, and hating anything of 'love'.

As he got to know the Court more, he got to know Sir Hound, otherwise known as Enmya, and the one that took him on, to train him in a squireship, to become a Knight. She was harsh on his, going so far as to keep sticking her sword in his gut, when he wasn't keeping up with her training. Though she we're gone before he was even Knight'd, when they took the Precipice.

'Accept you can't succeed at this task, and keep your dignity intact.'

Current Timeline

Nicholai, now considered a 'deserter' from his former Court, had sought out the means of another, though wary of one he'd want to join. And already down on his luck, he wasn't going to be to picky. Randomly finding a elementalist during Wintersdays, and pitching some work related construction them, they'd said they'd 'Ask the higher ups' about hiring him. After waiting a week, like told, he was sent a letter to meet in the Coin, to discuss further details. Wanting to talk more private, they went around the back, to the alley. But upon being told said.. 'details'. Turns out, it was a Courtier trying to recruit him into the Pale Court. Nicholai, on edge from the treatment of his former Court, lashed out at them, burning and hitting where he could. But the other overpowered him, and he soon just dropped his weapons, and went a bit more 'willingly'. Though, chucked into a cell to await further instructions.

As a couple more days passed, he was left in the cell to gather his thoughts, and get them straight. Stripped of his armor, and weapons, and a magic suppressing collar around his neck. It's not like he could do much to get himself out right now. After the third day, he'd finally gotten a visitor. A tall, and lanky blue colored sylvari, 'Narcotics' he called himself. The Guardian found the name a bit odd, but went along with it. Narcotics took care of the burn wounds he had, as Nicholai told the man of his former Court, and the shit that caused him to desert it. Though Narcotics from the outside, seemed quite unconvinced of the those events. Finally allowed out of the cell, he was soon giving a test in front of the Court, to prove he was in fact, Nightmare. Giving a carving knife, and the back of a slave, Nicholai had set about carving out a magnificent piece of carved art, or that's what a few of the people that saw him carve it, said.

Having proved himself, he was allowed free movement among the Court. Until he at least proved he wasn't a spy, or traitor. Inira, a chronomancer, was set to keep an eye on him, and to report to him every couple of days.

Upon reporting to her the first time. The two talked about the library they found themselves in. Apparently it had once been burned down by someone, but she'd restored many of the books that went up in the flames. As they talked, Nicholai brought up his lack of former memories, being his last Court had mind wiped the majority of them, and the only thing he was left with, was former ones that were fragments, and they left more questions, then answers. Allowing her, she helped him get some of the fragments back into place, and was able to get back some pieces of his past, even if much of it was still a blur.

Getting his mojo back

He'd come to realize that, comparing himself to others wasn't really going to get him anywhere in life, and that living in someone else's shadow also wasn't going to. He’d shackled himself to the idea that he’d been content with his life since he’d deserted his old Court, thinking maybe he could live contently with what little he could contribute here and there, but it wasn’t exactly as fulfilling as he’d thought. He wanted more and that more wasn’t going to come as easily as just saying ‘Hey, I want this’ he’d have to work for it, tirelessly even so. Because he’d spent the last couple of years bumming himself out and calling himself an ‘idiot’ as a namesake, as many others had also taken to calling him that.

He was sick and tired of sitting around, sure, he’d gotten comfortable with the Court, and pitched a couple of ideas here and there. But if he wanted to make more than a simple dent in his work, he’d need to think not necessarily big but ideas that could put him out there, even simple improvements could be it.

But. Oh no. He’d gone the big idea route. Having spent the good of the last two months gathering equipment and studying up on the research he’d stolen from his old Court. Sketching, prototyping, and going back and forth to the drawing board. Both of his guests had likely heard him at all hours of the night, as he worked in his shed in the back of the house. If they were lucky enough, they might have caught sight of him dragging a couple of charged lodestones, or even seen some weird stuff projecting outside of the shed: such as shapes, and figures. And at times, they wouldn't even see the shed at all, it’s as if it wasn’t ever there. But if they were keen enough to approach the area it used to set, they’d still find it there. Just not visible. With a hand reached out, they’d get a weird, wobbly reaction from the cloaking that was around the shed. And unless they’d ask about it, he wouldn’t speak of the experiments, either.

Having neared the final tests of the small scale version, he’d asked Emi to accompany him to an offshore Inquest Base, in hopes of finding the other tech, charged lodestones, and any other useful stuff they could grab while there. The one thing he was interested in though, was the large scale notes that once kept the gigantic base sealed from the open world,as he had plans to try and make that a plan for the Court. Since after hearing of the Inquest attack months ago, he thought reversing the tech in their favor would be a win-win

In current times.

In the current times, Nicholai has chosen to abandon the Courts themselves, and act on his own accord. Since he's sick, and tired at always being at their whims, and having to work his way back up the ladder has gotten old, and stale. If ever choosing to attend something Courtly, he refers to himself as 'Count Perseverance'.

Triva

• Guardian Etheral magic user.
• Knows his way around Magitech.
• Doesn't use 'brother' or 'sister', like most of their race does. After getting close to many, and they've died, or betrayed him. He's refrained from using it, outside of a select few.
• Has a skyscale called Zhiget, and a griffion called Maraoon. They protect both his Court, and Hoelbrak home.
• Usually plays the 'Soundless' card when he's out in public, as he prefers to keep his empathy concealed.
• Isn't usually one for gods, but he does have a fondness for the human god, Grenth. And often leaves offerings at his shrines. He also has a tendency to say; 'For the love of Grenth', when particularity annoyed.
  

  Magic

  • Has mastered the use of fire magic, and Ethereal bound weapons. Allowing one to be summoned indefinitely.
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  • Has studied to become a Dragonhunter, mastering it's trap usages over time. Carves trap runes into his boots, and gaunlets for easier access.
  • Has built up a resistance to fire, lessening its effect on him.
  • Has the use of protection magic. A single use Aegis that can block a attack he choose. Can spawn domes, walls, and shields, that either defend, or knockback certain attacks.
  • Can cleanse certain ailments from people. From poison, to burns. Though if he has no idea what it is, the cleasning is sometimes uesless.

  Personality

  Nicholai can be a grab bag of emotions depending on the situation. He’s trained himself to be more under control of emotions, as past experiences have told him he let them loose to many a time. He typically tries to remain calm and collective, but it’s never been his foray in most times. He’s quick to anger, and annoy, the smallest of things sometimes sending him over the edge, which has gotten him into trouble the more times then he can even count.

  He prefers being solitary, not keen to large groups of people, but forces himself to mingle and be a ‘people person’ as the saying goes. Introvert at nature, he’d rather stay home and cook, or read a book if it was always an option. But seeing as it isn’t, he’s always around people, making him have to get over it

  Never one to easily trust, either. He’s wary of those he first meets, even if a former member of the Court, or someone another might know well. A built in defense mechanism from back in his old Lion’s Arch captive days.

  All in all, he’s pretty calm, rational, and not an actual idiot when he puts his mind to it.