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When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Unnamed Mercenary - 07-02-2015
The Garlean man found himself sitting at his desk again. Just as every other time, he had left the old letters, packages, notes, life of the cottage’s former inhabitant exactly the way they had been left. The deliveries were not his to open and read, yet he did. Someone needed to at least politely decline the incoming inquiries and requests that Frhanz Kirche still received.
Despite his death.
Despite the Ishgardian man’s death nearly a year prior, the amount of letters received was ridiculous. “How did he even manage to live this way?†The Garlean already knew the answer. It was impossible for him to have not known the answer. When he had assumed the Ishgardian’s name, edited slightly to appear more like a Highlander’s, Franz had known the life of the man who previously lived there.
Kirche had left before the gates of Ishgard were closed to outsiders. Life within the stone city simply was not for him. He could not fight in the war. His faith was weak. His idea that people could have found a better method to peace would have nearly labelled him a heretic in the upper society. He only wanted to study and travel the world. To live a life of adventure as his books has illustrated so well. To see the lost cultures of Eorzea. Study their methods. Make people’s lives….better. Kirche was not useful for the Dragonsong War. So he left Ishgard. Left his family and so-called friends to live just outside Gridania. To travel around and see things. To study how thaumaturges and conjurers and acanists each shaped aether into spells. To read of Nym and Amdapor. To study alchemy and its effects on the body.
All of that was put to use and to waste when he had decided to visit a friend in Ul’dah. What should have been a peaceful encounter began the path to his death. Kirche was dead. It was the Garlean’s fault, or so he’d believed. And here the Garlean was, living in the man’s house. Reading his letters. Continuing his work. Using his name. It was rather odd.
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Kage - 07-02-2015
The blueberry haired lalafell wriggled closer to the griffin who cooed and chirped as he frowned at the distant sun. Western Coerthas had a habit of being cold but the lalafell still had to search. She was somewhere... hopefully. Not eaten. Not hurt. Hopefully. Some day soon Miss Grimsong would be sure to finish her business and he'd have the item that would avail the griffin and himself as she flew. Soon. Hopefully.
He rubbed his head a bit against the griffin's side before sighing and wrapping up the letter he'd finished. It would be off soon and would hopefully force the man's hand.
Frhanz'ir's family deserved something.
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Unnamed Mercenary - 07-07-2015
Franz held the letter addressed to him in his hands. No, not Frhanz Kirche, but Franz. Him. Not to a Mr. Renatus. Only the name he gave to the public. Upon reading it, it wasn’t surprising to see who the sender had been. If anything, it was as if the letter had always been ready to be sent. To arrive at the precise moment he would detest it the most.
“He would pick now of all times to send something like this,†the Garlean grumbled, slightly. “Or rather, given the state of everything, it’s no surprise it would arrive now.â€
But he knew the person Kirche had been. His wants. Aspirations. His beliefs. They were not in Ishgard. And he desperately wanted to ensure it would stay that way. What Franz knew of the land made it more unpleasant to imagine than any of the memories. Even the single time he had forced himself into Coerthas has been too close for comfort.
And so he replied to the letter in as nice a way as he could manage.
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Unnamed Mercenary - 07-31-2015
(07-31-2015, 02:14 PM)Kage Wrote: Kage stared at the antelope stew stains of a few drops that he had snacked on, the drippling of the stew came from when he dipped some Knight's Bread into the stew.
".... he can deal with it."
Quote:To Franz,
Stop making excuses. Do what's right by Frhanz'ir's family. His twin deserves to know. Also, there are these really delicious teas and pastries.
Please visit D'ly for my chocobo. The poor draught chocobo should be stabled at  _____ and should be brought to the stables at the house you found me earlier.
Also, I need to ask you if you've ever heard about a woman who is known to have made some Garlean ties but I believe is native to Ishgard. Maybe Frhanz'ir's memories or your own would help.
Hurry up.
Franz held the newest of the letters in his hand, frowning. "Who is `D'ly` and why am I supposed to handle this?"
At least he was already in the Shroud. The previous days had seen to that. And the upcoming Bachus event being held locally. "I'll respond to this later, he told himself. "And with paper that hasn't been stained with food."
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Unnamed Mercenary - 08-08-2015
His meeting with the cold hyuran woman had been short-lived. Brief. More than he had wanted to handle, in any case. As all meetings with her were. The dark forested parts of the Black Shroud had made an ideal meeting place for her to find him. “You’ve grown too complacent.†“You could use a bit of application of yourself.†The words had sunk in. Left a rather bad taste in his mouth. She had been keeping track all of this time. But that much should have been expected. That he had been allowed to live so freely for the past few moons should have been enough evidence that time was gift. She had let him experience those things. Left him to his own devices to make a face for himself. To pick himself back up after past events. It had seemed she even allowed him to be happy and content for a short period following.
That had all ended now, however. “Do not grow dull and useless. It would be such a waste of your unique talents.†More words that had found their way digging into him. What had transpired during that talk in the forest was simple. She had seen past the simple masks and defenses he had put up to live peacefully. Or perhaps they had never been there to start, and he had simply been lying to himself and others for too long. Lying to himself that he would be fine. Lying to others that he was fine. Lying was something the Garlean had become used to. If he could piece together the proper words, it didn’t matter if they were true or not to some people. Add a smile or frown into the conversation. Tell people what they want to hear. It was simple enough.
And then she was gone. As the wind rustled through the leaves, the hyuran woman had left without a trace, as usual. Likely to continue her watching from afar. He was given a task. By whatever means necessary. Not a request. Or something he wanted to do. A requirement. Order. He would need to travel to Ishgard and its surrounding areas for some time. To the Elezen’s home city. To a land where the people had been engaged in a war for over a thousand years. And even if he were to act perfectly. To do all that was asked of him. He would be no closer to what he wanted. Only further from what he did not want.
Exiting the Bobbing Cork, Franz packed his few belongings and stepped onto the wooden planks making up the whole of Fallgourd Float. Few people had yet to awaken, which was good for him. There was no one to get in his way, or ask anything of him, or to speak with. A bag of gil in his hand, he walked up to the Chocobo Porter, asking how soon he could depart into Coerthas, bound for Ishgard. He wasn’t against walking, but there were preparations he need to have ready. Too many to easily carry upon one bird. “I would like a cart of items to be brought on the travel to Ishgard. I can afford any of the fees.†The Porter did not need to know any more. He paid his fare, leaving a few extra coins to keep the person silent on his behalf. He then departed.
He watched as the lush forest turned to flat stones, and then to the snowy mountains of Coerthas, stopping a few suns in between the journey to rest the birds along the way. He realized how irritating it was that Ishgard had only just reopened its gates, not having included airship travel to the city at that time. After paying his fare to the porter, Franz lightly hopped from the carriage that had brought him into Ishgard. He frowned when he noticed he could see his breath as he exhaled, muttering “was better when it was greener…†to himself. Sending the Porter to a storage location to drop off his belongings, Franz decided he would need to find a heavier coat and some more formal attire. The shirts and pants that had been comfortable to wear were too thin for the cold weather. And his sollerets would rust in this weather and he would have none of it.
As he made his way through the city, he tried to avoid eye contact with as many as possible. It was unclear who would judge him for simply looking out of place. It was a very unnerving feeling to know he was walking the streets for the first time, yet remember them from the man whose life he had taken. To continue to use familiar landmarks and shortcuts that had not changed in the years since Francois Kirche had fled south into other lands, under the name Frhanz. But he wasn’t that man. The Elezen was dead. His name recycled into something the Garlean could use. He whispered to himself as he entered the Jeweled Crozier. “I am not Francois Kirche, Frhanz Kirche, or even Franz Kirche. I am only Franz. The name is not mine.†The sooner he had some more weather-appropriate clothes, the faster he could look for somewhere to stay. Too much time spent in the desert and forests had left him unaccustomed to the cold. He did not like it.
After what felt like too much time, Franz found himself the owner of suitable garments that were for one of his size. “Too tall for an average Hyur’s and too thick for an Elezen’s, my arse,†muttering. Whatever feelings about Ishgard that had resided in the House Kirche Elezen had certainly made him much more irritable about the entire situation. But it had its benefits. He could fake the local greetings and dialect. And a merchant that assumed he was simply buying new supplies to replace old ones was certainly preferable to one that viewed him as an outsider.
Then came the issue of where to stay. He needed somewhere far away enough from the noble houses such that he would not gain their interest, but somewhere...civilized enough to not have to worry about being attacked in the night and mugged. He remembered that a large number of adventurers had flocked to the city when its gates were opened. Surely some of the inns had begun to capitalize on such. And wherever the herds of adventurers traveled, there was enough going on to stay out of the public eye.
Stepping into one such establishment, he could at least take some interest in the beautiful marble flooring and lush carpets that adorned the entrance of the inn. If he were going to stay in the city, he was going to stay somewhere that would be comfortable. Wearing only the most professional of smiles, he made his way to the receptionist, booking a room and meals of his picking. There was no shortage of funds that could be acquired in the city, and he was confident in his ability to convince the place to store his belongings when needed. After all, why would they have reason to mistrust him? They would hear the words they wished to hear, and would be paid nicely for it as well.
His living conditions in Ishgard arranged, all that was left was to reply to Kage’s letter. There was not much to mention. Thankfully the inn could parchment and ink that wouldn’t freeze while writing.
Quote:You can find me in Ishgard now, Kage.
I do not know know who this D’ly is and have not moved your chocobo. Do such yourself.
I have no plans to speak with that family. It is better that way.
-Franz
He took some solace in knowing he could not be forced into having to interact with the Kirche family. Kage would not know where to find them, and even if he did, there was little an outsider could do. Once the letter was sent, he had a small meal and arranged for hot water to be sent to his room for a bath. Unless there was business to be done, he would likely find himself at the Aetheryte Plaza to return to somewhere with more amicable temperatures.
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Unnamed Mercenary - 08-10-2015
“I look forward to hearing from you.†“Happy hunting.†He wondered if the female Highlander was aware of his reasons for coming to Ishgard. Kage had already deemed him useless in the endeavor. She had looked to him as another resource. Another person who could lead her to finding what she wanted.
Franz would need to be more careful around the two. Perhaps even give them something to work with. The unlikely pair had found him nearly shivering by one of the fountains in Ishgard. He hated the city already. The cold stones that it was built from. The religious fanatics that roamed its every ilm. Franz was taking issue with determining where the hatred came from.
It must be something leftover of his. The only son of House Kirche. As a Garlean, he was used to living in foreign lands. Used to a variety of weather. Used to dealing with people he did not care for. But everything in this city felt off. As if he was a runaway child that had returned home. But that was true, in a sense. By the Garlean’s actions, whatever had been left of the Elezen was forced to return to Ishgard, be it only the memories or something more. The Ishgardian’s way of thinking, his memories, his essence, in a manner, had all begun to fade as the Garlean slowly recovered his own. But here, in this city, he was unsure. The cool air felt colder. The populated rooms, stuffier. The glance of each knight as Franz walked around the city felt as if they would bore into his back. What had made him hate the city so much? The Garlean could not answer.
But as he had followed the Lalafell and Highlander woman done the paths to a warmed room, he could feel the unamused expression being frozen onto his face. Ishgard could provide nothing for him here. As they entered the chocobo stables, he did not frown from the smell, but from disgust. It didn’t matter. He listened to them ramble on about ‘her’. None of it particularly new information. But that was expected. He needed to judge what they did know. What their plans were. Whatever is necessary.
It seemed Kage had no issue with divulging any and every secret. At times, it could be useful. He had very simply pointed out the Grimsong he had been tasked with handling. But he had also been stolen the chance of introducing himself to the Highlander woman. He did not like his secrets being spread without consent. Even more so while in a city known for hating outsiders.
If he was going to be useful in any regard, Franz needed to operate without public eye. A foreign concept to the Dunesfolk, apparently. But he was given enough, it seemed, to have a reason to stay. He could always find some sort of justification. ‘She’ had even seemed to hint at it. If there was a vigilante he needed to keep alive, then surely there would be some sort of troublemaker to lure such a person out. But if Franz were to find more infected with creatures of the Void, he wondered how he would need to handle them.
As a Garlean, he could likely have gotten away with saying they were of no concern. But now that Kage had divulged upon his nature. Who he was. Or had been, rather, it was a different set of circumstances. Just what had been said to Grimsong? for how long did Kage run his little mouth?
Franz stood from the desk he had been sitting in. The inn room he had chosen was nice. Roomy. It had even included a small kitchen area with enough counter space for some basic preparation and a small stove that could handle a pot or pan. He set a teapot atop it to boil some water, letting his feet rest on a tile flooring, warmed by the stove. Perhaps the only good thing about Ishgard. The heated flooring could at least remind him of warmer locations. It was a good pick on his part, but he missed the bed he had grown accustomed to in Ul’dah. The hourglass’s room had provided a small terrace with a small bed he could use to sleep under the stars. The mere thought of trying to do so in Ishgard would likely mean he had frozen to death.
With a large mug of piping hot spiced tea, Franz cleared his mind of all other thoughts, in an effort to relax and unwind from the stress of dealing with the earlier parts of the day. There was no snow in the room. No loud-mouthed Lalafells. No questions on people. Just him, his tea, and a bed he should be sleeping in. It had become late in the evening.
Hearing the twelfth and final evening bell, he exited the main section of the inn room to change into clothes for sleeping. He could only smirk slightly, noticing he had been give a pair of rather husky Elezen’s bottoms with a small Roegadyn’s top, the shirts having still been much to big for a Hyur, even of his size. He would need to check with the reception later. While the pants fit well enough, the shirt was much too loose and he needed to roll up the sleeves. It would be a waste of their resources if it continued.
Franz was on the verge of entering his bed when he heard a small knock on the door. Barefoot, he walked quietly to listen to the person on the other side. Another small knock on the door. it was almost pleading. The Ishgardian door had not been furnished with an eye hole to see through however. And Franz did not recall giving anyone his room number. He had only merely given the Highlander woman enough details to find the inn. He was careful to not make any sudden movements, lest the door creek at his presence. A third and final knock. If this person was here to attack, they should have done so by now. A few more moments of silence and he heard what sounded like a defeated “Hmmph†come from the other side of the door and someone walking off. He let off a sigh of relief and retired for the evening. Franz did not want visitors.
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - Unnamed Mercenary - 09-24-2015
(09-23-2015, 06:58 PM)Kage Wrote: A letter arrives, hastily written on some clean paper.
Franz,
Your services in dealing with the voidlings are required by Miss Grimsong. Pray speak with her. She said someone else has been stabbed, a brother from Ul’dah or in the Uldahn area.
If need be, I shall be heading to lavender beds because I miss some of my other family and I don’t want to deal with you at the moment.
Kage Kiryuu
When Franz awoke that morning, he noticed that a letter had been slipped under the door of his inn room, like the work of one of the mail delivery creatures. How convenient… He lightly tore open the side of the envelope, being careful not to damage the contents within. His expression darkened when he realized it was just another one of Kage’s letters. Something that he could have tossed into any of the furnaces.
Grumbling to himself, “what’s the little bugger want now…,†he unfolded the paper and read though, snickering just a little that he hadn’t been the only one. “Grimsong has a brother? This...had never been specified.†He supposed it could be entertaining to have another Ala Mhigan to observe. Maybe poke some fun at. If it would removed the female Grimsong from Ishgard, he could hope that familial bonds may keep her from returning. It would satisfy his instruction without having to resort to more violent tactics. The possibility existed that she may even halt her search for a certain hyuran woman altogether, if at least to ensure the male Grimsong was alive and well.
“But this does pose a complication…,†Franz pondered. “Those creatures within him will certainly continue to feed until there is no aether left. And unlike myself, I do not expect him to last quite as long.†Franz was aware of what “being stabbed†would imply. And that simply made the matter all the more time-sensitive. He would need to locate the man and people who could assist with a treatment. Or an attempted treatment, really. Franz knew that these voidlings were different than the ones that Kirche had encountered. They had acquired a manner of sentience. Self-preservation. They would not fall for the same lure as the earlier strain. A concentration of aspected aether crystals would likely not be enough. He had realized it first-hand.
But before he could attempt anything, he would need to know where both Grimsongs were. He began to draft two letters, both marked in excellent penmanship. He had the time to ensure the writing would be both legible and beautiful. It would have been a shame  to waste such a skill.
A letter addressed to Kage Wrote:Kage,
Where is this man now, and where is Miss Grimsong?
Consider it a personal favor that I’m going to even try. I am currently in Thanalan handling personal matters. If this man is located elsewhere, I would not expect him to survive more than a fortnight. I need to know his and her whereabouts for this.
-Franz
A letter addressed to Delial Grimsong Wrote:Miss Grimsong,
I know not if this letter will be received by you in time, nor if you are aware yourself.
Upon request of the Lalafell, I’ve been tasked with attempting to treat a man calling himself your brother. I am unable to verify any proposed facts.
If such is the case, I would ask that if you know his whereabouts, to let me know in as timely a manner as possible. I would also like to request that you are available at the time, as this will likely involve a very delicate process.
As you may have realized, these parasites of the void become rather attached to the their hosts, consuming one’s aether until death.
Should you not be concerned about this brother of yours, you are free to disregard the letter. I am currently situated in Ul’dah and can be contacted as such.
-Franz
After writing each, he waited for the ink to dry before carefully folding each and carefully placed each into envelopes. Franz then set off to find one of the delivery creatures to provide instruction and details of the recipients.
RE: When the hells have frozen over... [closed] - cuideag - 09-25-2015
An undecorated letter arrived without ceremony, as if the deliverer (a somewhat haggard looking moogle if ever there was such a thing) was used to keeping such deliveries quiet. It came and went without so much as a 'how-do-you-do-kupo,' leaving Franz with a letter in Grimsong's neat utilitarian hand.
Quote:Master Franz,
The facts are as they were given as they were given at my request. As of the time of this writing, I am already on my way south to join you and others in Ul'dah. It is in Thanalan that we might meet your patient as it were. It must be said: I am not especially skilled at healing, much less healing without aether, so I am uncertain of just how much aid I might be able to give you. Nevertheless, it is something that needs doing so I shall aid you in whatever way I can.
As for the exact location, I am not entirely certain yet. You know Roen and you know Lazarov, so I must wonder if you know Melkire and his group? I believe he is staying at their headquarters. Confirmation has yet to come, but I shall relay the details to you as soon as I have it, be it in person or by mail.
I am indeed aware of what they are capable of, and I pray you have gotten all the more skilled at dealing with them.
I will be in touch.
D.