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Second Hand Faith [Complete] - Printable Version

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RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 06-21-2014

[sup]((Warning: This post contains some mature content and some adult oriented themes))[/sup]




“Natalie is the one that arranged all this.”

Roen froze, staring at her lap, eyes wide.

"It's all justified, of course. She's doing it all for you. She cares for you, and apparently not for him. But hey, the Sultansworn are good people. Right?"

Her heart started to pound again, painfully so in her chest. "You are lying."

"I never lie. I feel sorry for you on the day you realize just how true that is."

Roen gritted her teeth as she shot a look back to the Roegadyn, her face flushed and twisted with disbelief and indignation. "Natalie would not-- he is my brother. She would not."

"Like I said, Roen... I'm many things. But a liar? No... I tried to kill my own brother, you know. The one who was a Sultansworn. I was going to kill him for our father's inheritance. I failed... and shortly after, he sacrificed himself to save me." He shook his head, chuckling darkly. "I've tried to be more like him since. I see your order, your beloved order, and I see nothing of what he was. He was a man of honor. The Sultansworn of today are no better than elite Brass Blades. Corrupt to the core with no true sense of purpose."

"Do not speak of the Order that way. You are not Sultansworn. Your brother held the honor, he wore the mantle. He swore the Oaths. He may get to judge, but you do not. You do not know the sacrifices that some make to uphold the Oaths. You do not know them!"

In that instant something snapped in his eyes, and his gaze turned murderous. "SHUT UP! You spit on his legacy! He gave up everything to serve, and you bastards just threw it all away!" He rose up, towering over her, his fists clenched angrily. "The Sultansworn are corrupted. And your 'friend' has betrayed you to murder your brother. You willingly participated in some activity in the mines, something you knew was wrong, and you did it with Natalie and Kage. You all now serve as Brass Blades and here you are telling me that the order has honor?”

Roen swallowed, lowering her own voice seeing his anger rising like a sudden tide. "You pass judgement without knowing the facts. You condemn them for corruption seeing the same things the Monetarists accused us of. If you oppose the Syndicate, why do you believe what they want everyone else to believe?"

"Everything the Syndicate says isn't true. But everything they say isn't a lie, either. You truly think that your order is beyond being bought?"

"And do you truly think everyone within the Order has been bought?"

"No, I don't. I think that too many have, but not all."

Roen inhaled deeply, regarding the Roegadyn earnestly. "Do you know why we have been demoted to Brass Blades? Because we were loyal to the Sultana. But at my behest, Natalie let my brother and the Resistance go after we faced them... unknowingly at the Mines. Because I pleaded that they and we fought the same enemy. And the Syndicate used that to frame us."

"I do think that the friend you're so quick to defend apprehended a woman on nothing more than suspicion and tortured her. And all the while, she was protecting a known criminal. Even if my words to you are overly harsh, you know that she's ruthless. You just don't want to believe it because you care. At least I'm honest about my failings."

Roen stiffened as shame twisted her stomach. She slowly nodded. "Aye. I heard about... what they did."

"I'm sorry that I'm not a better man.” Crim slowly lowered into a seat again, his voice growing sullen once more. “I'm sorry that I'm the one standing here trying to help you out. I'm sorry that I've let my hatred rule my words for you and your brother. I'm not a good man. I have so much further to go... I know I'm not an ally you would ever choose."

Roen stared at nothing in particular. "I cannot trust you. But... I cannot ... I will not risk his life. But I do not know if believing you will help or hurt him." A breath’s pause as she looked back to the Roegadyn. “But I cannot sit here and let him be lured out."

"Believing me is irrelevant. Even if what I'm saying about Natalie is a lie, you know the Syndicate will strike him when he's most vulnerable if they have it in for him. Choosing not to aid me just means that he doesn't have someone trying to warn him. I've heard that he's a fine warrior, but... you throw a hundred men at someone..."

"And you will not let me go to warn him?"

"I wish I could let you go. I'd lead you to safety myself. But if I do, Askier will go to Natalie. Then Natalie will go to the Syndicate. They will abort their plan and form a new one. Matters will not be better... only changed..."

That was when the door opened with the turn of a key in a lock, the sound of howling winds entering the cabin along with the new arrival. With a slam of the door behind him, Roen could hear mutters in the other room and shuffling feet. With wet footsteps, Askier entered the bedroom, his nose and cheeks red from the stinging cold as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck. "Hey, Big Guy. How's Roen?"

Roen only briefly caught a pointed look from Crim and a quick nod, before the Roegadyn stood up, his hands on his hips. “Awake. Mouthy lil' bitch. Full o' insults, of course. Can ya believe she actually asked fer me ta untie 'er?" Her eyes narrowed at the sudden change in his speech, his accent, even his tone.

"Why am I not surprised?" Askier chuckled, his golden gaze flicked toward her. "I brought her some food so we can shove some rolls in her mouth if she gets out of hand." Roen spotted the wet snow he was tracking through the room as he set a box down onto a table. He then turned, giving her a bow. "Sorry about all this. How's the head?"

Roen only answered him with a glare, curling her legs to herself. His thick coat, the melting snow on the ground. They were in Coerthas.

"We can't keep 'er in them ropes ferever. They fray too easily, an'... well, they'll cut 'er wrists. We gotta get somethin' more... official? Think you can pull somethin' like that off? Somethin' fer wrists 'n ankles both. Maybe even a collar."

Roen blinked and stared at Crim. She was not sure if this was an act. Why would he...

"Crim, you and I think alike.  Part of why it took so long.  Cost me a pretty gil, but..." Askier began to dig into the box, pulling out books, food, clothes, and multiple whiskey bottles. "Here we are." He grinned, pulling two pairs of shackles from the box, the metal clanking ominously in the stone room. "Figured it might be more comfortable than that rope and would let Roen use her hands to read." Askier cocked his head her way with a smile. "See?  I'm not a total ass."

"That's fer the best. Only one problem that creates, though. Lettin' 'er hands be free means it's more likely she can try 'n hide things from us, try an' get free. We have ta eliminate that as much as we can.” The Roegadyn frowned.

"Well, we could break some of her fingers." Askier mused and then shook his head. "But I'm not fond of doing that to a woman." Askier looked at his own hand for a moment and then sighed. "I'm not cut out for this kind of work. We shackle her and then use some leather thongs to bind her fingers together. Crude but will work."

"No, that ain't what I mean. That won't work anyroad, trust me. I done a little bit o' slavin' back in my raidin' days. She's gotta be naked. Completely naked. An' any time she gets her hands on somethin', she's gotta be searched. Thoroughly. We can give 'er a blanket cuz that's easy enough ta shake out, but... Twelve, I hate this shite."

Roen felt herself shrinking back against the wall, her attention snapping back to Crim.

"Naked?"  Askier said with a hint of incredulousness. "You want her to freeze here? I-" Askier reached for one of the bottles of whiskey, pulled open the cork and took a long draft and then sighed. "Look Roen, you're awake and a rational woman. You want to talk about this or should Crim and I just keep planning how we are going to bind you. I'm trying to be civil here since your friend hired me."

"Would you believe me if I said I would cooperate if you kept me unbound?" Her words sounded sharper to her ears than she had intended. Her eyes narrowed on Askier. "And who is this friend of mine that hired you?"

"I might, eventually." Askier only paused for a breath. “Natalie,” he answered her flatly.

Roen frowned instantly, distrust and anger quick to return. But what words she may have said in protest stalled in her throat when she spotted that change in Crim again. Any sign of challenge seemed to trigger something dark in the Roegadyn. Or perhaps it was his hatred of the Sultansworn. Or Natalie. She could not tell.

Crim’s icy blue eyes seemed to stare through her and his voice had a cruel tone running just beneath the surface. "I'm just sayin'.. the best way ta do it ain't somethin' I'm willin' ta do. See, ya put a collar round 'er neck. Then, ya bind 'er wrists tagether... pull 'er arms up so that 'er wrists an the collar are attached. Pull the elbows tagether, preferably touchin'. Pierce the nipples and the nose 'n put rings in 'em. Then, mind the ankles together. You can use the collar ta lead 'er 'round, an' she can't run or do nothin' with 'er hands. But like I said, I don't wanna cause harm, 'n... well... she ain't no slave."

Roen felt the blood drain away as she stared at Crim in horror.

"Hells, Crim!" Askier grunted in shock, nearly spitting out his whiskey. "I was just think of binding her ankles and wrists together, not start shoving things into noses. I mean I see how that would work but I'm supposed to return Roen in good condition. Nat's orders. Don't think Nat would take kindly to nipple piercings."

"How do you know? Nat might like nipple piercin's..." Crim shrugged his shoulders and looks back to Roen, giving her a very stern look. "Just lettin' the girl know what I'm willin' ta do if she tries to escape. I don't play games, an' if she tries ta run away, I'm gonna be so pissed that Rhalgr 'imself'd be givin' pause."

Her breathing was starting to quicken as her eyes darted between Askier and Crim. She no longer knew who this Roegadyn was anymore. Was he the same man who offered to help her brother?

"Roen, Crim here isn't joking.” The Miqo’te turned to her with a dark look as well. “He will do whatever needs to be done, so lets be civil, shall we? I have you here to keep you safe. My sister will be here soon to help us keep an eye on you and she is a very good tracker, so running won't get you far. Are you willing to let us chain you my way or?" Askier motioned with his head at Crim. "Do I let our big friend her start piercing body parts?"

Roen gave a baleful glare to Askier but shook her head and lowered her gaze and head. Her voice was one of swallowed pride when she answered him. "Your way, Askier."

“I'm okay with bindin' 'er yer way, but what 'bout 'er clothes? We ain't gotta pierce nothin' ta be careful. Plenty o' blankets in 'ere ta keep 'er warm."

His words drew another incredulous glare, anger and betrayal in her eyes. One truth remained ringing in her mind. He was not the ally anyone would choose.

Crim met her gaze, and his expression grew darker. "Better yet... she don't need blankets. I'll just keep a nice fire goin'. That sound better, Roen?"

"I agree we should take her clothes but we'll give her my coat in addition to the fire." Askier said, a degree of pity in his eyes as he looked at her. "I know that jacket like the back of my hand and every pocket and hole it could have. She makes a change or tries to hide anything, I'll know, and she can keep some of her dignity."

Crim sucked on his teeth. "No, ya won't give 'er yer coat. Not at first, anyroad. She wants ta throw an attitude then she can be humbled. When she realizes she has somethin' ta work for, an' starts actin' like a good girl... then we'll see."

Roen tore his gaze away from them both, looking down to the floor. Her breaths were coming quicker and she was trying to quell the dread that was quickly filling her chest.

"So you want to just strip her down and bind her now?" Askier cleared his throat, his discomfort with it all clear in his tone.

Roegadyn grunted, turning to the bed, his shadow falling over her curled form. “Get off the bed and on your knees, girl,” he said coldly, pointing to the middle of the room. “And if you behave and ask nicely, I’ll letcha even undress yerself.”

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 06-22-2014

There was no restful sleep.

The weight of her shackles woke her every time she shifted in bed. Just before dawn she finally lost herself to sleep, but when the morning arrived and she opened her eyes, she was staring at the shackles again around her wrists. They reminded her that this was not a nightmare she could wake from.

Her gaze went to the Roegadyn sitting by the bedside: Crimson Mountain, a frighteningly large man in blood-red armor that befit his name. Her eyes narrowed in remembrance of the events the night past; he had forced her to undress in front of him, and grovel on her knees expressing gratitude for the opportunity to do so. Askier was there too, and had purposefully turned his back to the scene, choosing to stare at the fire instead. But Crim made it plain that he enjoyed her humiliation. She knew he was trying to rob her of hope, to prove that he had complete dominion over her... but with this new day, she was determined not to let it happen.

“So, not just a bad dream.” Askier’s voice broke the silence of the room, the Miqo’te rising from his seat and stretching with a lazy yawn. “How are you two?”

When Crim did not answer, Roen sat up, clutching the blanket around her naked form. It was the only thing she was given. “Thirsty.”

“Well, we've got water, or whiskey. Or I can try to make some tea." Askier said as he stood up and started digging in the box sluggishly. He glanced her way but his eyes never quite reached her form.

"I would like some tea," she conceded quietly as her eyes roamed about the room again.

"Yer gettin' ready ta earn yerself a hood without a hole fer ya ta look through, Crim rumbled. "Yer trouble... too much trouble. This was a bad idea. A bad idea..." His massive arms crossed. He seemed to have lost that sadistic glimmer in his eye from the night before.

"If this was a bad idea, then just let me go. I will..." She pressed her lips together before continuing. "I will figure out how to protect my brother."

Crim sneered. "I never thought of it that way. Askier, whatcha think? I suddenly feel compelled ta just set 'er free. I'm sure nothin' bad could possibly happen. It's the best plan ever, don'tcha think? Then we'll have absolutely no leverage at all when Natalie shows up with 'er goons ta kill us."

“We can discuss this, supposing we all agree to be civil.” Askier threw a look to Crim as he set a kettle of water with tea leaves onto the hot embers in the hearth. “At this point, it’s too early to toss in the towel. Nat hired us to keep Roen safe, and so long as we actually keep her physically here, she has no reason to come after us.”

Crim gave a shrug and stared coldly back at her. "There you have it. I guess we can't just let'cha go like nothin' never happened. Go figure."

Askier turned away from the fire, dusting off his hands. "I doubt Roen would act like nothing ever happened, anyhow, after what you did."

Roen scowled, looking this time to Askier. He seemed more reasonable, perhaps less cruel. "But keeping me here is meant to lure my brother to his death," she said. When she turned back to Crim, it was with a controlled voice. She did not want to spark his ire again. "If you truly mean to keep the promise you made to Delial, you cannot just do nothing but keep me here. As you said, he will be looking for me."

Crim rose without a word, striding toward the fireplace as he slid a gauntlet over his right hand. He grabbed the kettle and flung it violently into the far wall, causing a loud crash as the kettle bent with the impact. It rolled onto the floor, its contents spilling forth, hissing.

Roen flinched at the noise, and did her best to hide her disappointment at the loss of hot water within. It was as if the Roegadyn could hear her thoughts and see every glimpse for any opportunity to escape.

"Hells, Crim!" Askier yowled as he dodged the flung kettle. The Miqo’te clenched his fists as he stood back up. "Crim, would you stop complicating matters for a second?"  Askier was doing his best to keep a snarl out of his voice. "I'm trying to be civil here and figure out how to turn this all around, and you aren't helping!"

"Couple o' things. First off, I know what I done an' I don't need nobody remindin' me of it. Ever.” The Roegadyn stood over her again, looming. “Second, I'm half an ilm away from gaggin' yer mouth so I don't gotta listen to ya no more. I tried ta offer ya help an' ya threw it in my face. Now yer shite outta luck."

Roen saw the warning signs, but she had to press. Perhaps if she could reach what vestige of honor he may still have left, perhaps there was still hope. "Then that is it. You are going to break your word. You are going to do nothing and let him die."

Crim was not moved. "Gag her, Askier. We don't need ta be arguin', an' I ain't listenin' to 'er no more. Gag 'er."

"I'll gag her once I've gotten a chance to get a few words edgewise with her. If you don't want to hear her voice, why don't you step outside for a second and I'll get you once I'm done with her."

Crim did not respond, he just settled back into his chair across from her, crossing his arms and staring at her.

Roen fixed her gaze on Askier, some small hope rising in her chest. "I want to save my brother. You know this. Death does not have to be your only end to this. And it does not have to end in his either. Just help me,” she pleaded.

Askier regarded her for a moment, then grabbed a waterskin from the box and dragged his chair towards her side of the bed. He extended his hand with waterskin toward her as his golden eyes studied her for a moment longer. When she accepted his offering, he took a seat. “I wanted to save my sister by blowing up Ul'dah, Roen. I'm aware of those feelings. I'm willing to try to work something out, but I want a few promises from you."

Roen welcomed the water to her parched lips. "What promises?"

"First off, you need to stop pissing Crim off, 'cause that isn't helping anything. Seriously. You antagonize him again, I'm going to let him do whatever he wants. Second, I want your word that, if I help you, no matter what happens, whether Gharen lives or dies, you will not come after my head, Crim's head, or even try anything against me and my own. Because in the end, we are supposed to let you go. And I can’t do that if you are going to turn around and hunt us down. You agree to these two, I'll work with you. If you can't swear by the Twelve you will, we're done here."

Roen set the waterskin to her lap, tugging the blanket around her again. "All this will be for naught if he dies. If we save him... I will..." She straightened, nodding. "I will not pursue this when this is over. But you cannot hold me here in chains."

"If we save 'im." Crim snorted, looking pointedly to Askier.

Askier sighed. "That's not what I asked you to agree to. I asked you to agree, even if we failed.  I'm not going to try and help you if you are going to come after me if he dies, because that end is already in motion. We may not be able to stop it.”

"Then how do I know that you are not just saying this to ensure your own life? You said it yourself, you will have to let me go. You know this cannot end well for you if things go as planned.”

"You don't." Askier shrugged. "You have no reason to trust me, but I kept up my end of my bargain to not destroy Ul'dah in exchange for my sister’s freedom. Obviously, I'm pretty good at keeping my end of bargains."

"You let me go after this plan is done, your life is forfeit. You kill me, then you have to kill..." Roen paused, biting her lip. "Then you have to deal with whoever hired you to do this."

"You mean deal with your friend Natalie?” Askier arched a brow and leaned back, crossing his arms. “I already have a plan to handle her. I have a friend who would love to know about what she planned and use it. I have my plans, question is, does trying to help you save your brother get added to them or not."

Roen narrowed her eyes. "You underestimate Natalie. That would be a mistake."

Crim snorted. "How ironic. All you can do to the guy who actually wants ta help yer brother is piss 'im off, an' all ya can do to the guy who don't wanna help 'im is grovel."

Roen spun back to Crim, the memory of the night before rushing back all too quickly. "Would you make me grovel again then? Get on my knees? Beg you for things? Is that how you will be satisfied?"

Askier raised a hand at Crim. "Easy, big guy, I'll gag her in a sec."

The Roegadyn narrowed his eyes dangerously at her. "We're past talkin'. I tried ta make a deal with ya an' ya just called me a liar. Then, when I said we were done talkin', ya said I was gonna break my promise. I ain't got no interest in what'cha gotta say no more. I'm just humorin' Askier so he can see how worthless any conversation with ya is."

Roen recognized those signs well enough. She swallowed and lowered her eyes, her hands clenched around the blanket. "I will... I will agree not to come after you." She said hoarsely, her words aimed at Askier. "But you must give me your word that you will try and save him."

“I give you my word that I will try. Nothing more." Askier extended his hand to her. "I only took this job to help you, a fellow Garlean out you know. Well, that and I was bored to tears."

Roen stared at him for a moment, before her own hand emerged from the blankets to take his. "Are you going to get me out of these chains?"

"Nope." Askier shook her hand. "Those stay on for the time being. You don't need your hands for us to plan just yet. Okay then, Roen, the Syndicate is after your brother, we have you, Gharen will probably find out soon. Question is, does the very angry Hyur go after us, the little pawns, or the brains he thinks are behind this?"

Roen narrowed her eyes on the Miqo’te. "You said it yourself. You were going to bomb Ul'Dah and kill countless people for your sister's safety. What do you think?"

Crim picked up a foot and smashed it into the bed with a loud thud, jolting her suddenly and firmly planting the frame against the wall. "Mind yer tone."

"Thank you, Crim." Askier smirked, putting his hands behind his head and scratching. "Might mean, Crim gets his fight if we play this wrong. Roen, how much do you care for Nat's well being?"

Roen glanced from Crim back to Askier, scowling. "I still do not believe you. I do not believe Natalie had anything to do with this."

"See? She's hopeless. Can we gag 'er now?" Crim gave Askier another pointed look.

"I cannot believe she would do this. Have me kidnapped... and my brother killed?" Her voice shook in full denial. "She would not. She... would not..." She said again, as if to herself, her gaze lowering to her hands. "We are talking about saving my brother, not about hurting Natalie."

"Roen, I don't know how to make you believe it but seriously, what would I have to gain by lying to you about this?” Askier leaned in towards her, as if to press his case. “The point of my question is that Nat might get hurt if we do this. I don't plan on it but there is a chance the Syndicate might do something. I have no idea if they would since they don't know about this, but you need to consider it."

Her lips curled down with suppressed anger that rose within. “You say you want to help my brother, you say you are doing this for me, but then you accuse my mentor. Do not expect me to believe everything you tell me so readily. You bind me and strip me, and expect to just believe you when you accuse someone I consider my sister!"

Crim growled in warning. "You didn't believe me before I did that, so yer argument ain't worth shite."

"Roen, shut your gob and listen to me or I'll gag you and make you listen," Askier snarled, teeth flashing. "By all the hells I will."

Roen scowled at Crim. A part of her knew she should not, but she had to know. He offered her help yesterday, only to... “We were talking about a letter, remember? Yesterday? You said you would help me. Then you had me strip and kneel and grovel. Am I to thank you for that again? And this? This knowledge you lay upon my lap about someone who saved my life... wanting me kidnapped?"

"Yes!" Askier exclaimed in exasperation, trying to control the conversation. "I'll admit, Crim went too far--"

“I was listening to you,” Roen locked her gaze on Crim, embers of bitterness still there from his betrayal. “Then you became cruel.”

The Roegadyn’s expression darkened in an instant and with speed that belied his size he rose and grabbed her by the shoulder, yanking her towards him. He tossed the blanket aside and struck her. And struck her again. She tried to brace herself against the blows but they kept coming.

"Crim!" she heard Askier shout. The blows finally came to a stop when Crim tossed her back onto the bed like a rag doll, as his other hand pulled away the blanket that Askier had thrown at the Roegadyn.

Roen tried to scramble onto all fours, but the shackles hampered even that, and she fell over. Her muscles coiled in panic, even as her body burned and ached with the blows she just took. She pushed them aside; she needed to get away. She saw Askier facing off with the Roegadyn with a bottle in hand.

Crim’s hand was moving toward the hilt of his massive sword at his hip, his eyes blazing with fury. “You gag that dumb bitch... NOW!"

"Crim, you insufferable...!" Askier growled and he hurled the bottle at Crim's head. The Miqo'te's face was flushed blood red. "I hired you ‘cause I thought you had a brain, but you are just as barbaric as Kahn'a said!" Askier seized his satchel from the table and pulled out a small item clenched in his fist. He flicked his gaze at Roen and took a step towards her, but his attention quickly returned to the Roegadyn.

Crim did not move as the bottle struck his face. His expression seemed frozen for a moment, and Roen thought he actually looked surprised for a brief instant. As if he truly did not believe that Askier attacked him. The bottle fell to the floor with a clang, as Crim slowly turned to the Miqo’te. The murderous look that came over him made Roen’s blood run cold. With a metallic hiss, he drew his massive blade and took a step towards Askier.

“You should run now,” the deadly warning rumbled from the Roegadyn.

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 06-22-2014

Roen’s heart felt as if it would leap out of her chest in fear as she scrambled off the bed, trying to make for the other room.

“Was planning on it, Big Guy!” Askier snarled as he threw whatever was in his hand onto the ground. It exploded into a bright flash, followed by a thick oily smoke with a smell of sulfur and salt pepper. Roen instinctively held her breath, recognizing the choking effect. Askier turned and curled his hand around her waist, and he too darted for the door.

But Crim was not stalled for long. His heavy armored steps were still quick enough to close the distance to the arched doorway, and he swung his massive sword in their direction. Even fighting the glares that the flash left, he was meaning to stop anyone from exiting.

With a violent shove from Askier, Roen was thrown into the other room just ahead of the swing of the blade, and the Miqo’te leaped back. The sword tip just barely caught Askier on the face, drawing a line of blood. “Really, Crim, this is what it’s come to?!” he shouted, his hand digging into his satchel even as he backed away from the armed Roe.

Roen barely spared them a glance as she darted for the door, the shackles around her ankles making her stumble more than once. She yanked free the coat that Askier had hung there; she knew she was not going to make it for long outside without some protection from the cold.

“You ass!” She heard Askier snarl from the other room as her trembling hand worked to open the locked doorknob. “I’m ashamed that you ever got to taint that tea house and Delial with your madness! Take another step and I’ll make you regret you ever hunted me down after my trial!”

“You little bastard," Crim roared, "I was gonna just knock ya good. Now I’m gonna grind yer bones inta powder!"

Roen clicked the door open. It was then that she heard rushing armored footsteps. Terror gripped her heart when she glanced over her shoulder and saw the blood-red armored Roegadyn sprinting her way, his blade drawn and a sinister grin in on his face. He was not going for Askier’s baiting--Crimson Mountain was coming after her.

Roen threw the doors open, only to have the howling winds and the cold hit her like a brick. She had no time to don the coat she grabbed, only clutched it tight to her chest as she darted out. She did not hear the shouting of the Miqo’te from the other room, nor the crash of broken glass and wood. But the thudding, armored footsteps sprinting after her could not be ignored.

To her dismay, the manacles around her ankles tugged at her gait with each step, shortening it unnaturally, and her bare feet slipped on the ice-coated stone steps. She paused only for an instant to regain her bearings, and that is when Crim’s hand grabbed her arm, his blade coming around for her throat. She jerked herself free, her wrist raised to glance off the edge of his blade with a metallic hiss. She stumbled forward and fell to the ground, her hands and knees plunging deep into snow. The chill gripped her limbs instantly.

Roen saw from the corner of her eyes Askier rounding the cabin in a full sprint, having found his exit through a broken window. He hurled odd-looking stones, and they exploded with a deafening roar, the shockwave sending her face forward into the snow. She covered her head instinctively, ducking and trying to protect herself.

The armored Roegadyn looming behind her blocked much of the stone fragments and debris that flew in their direction, but the blast sent her senses spinning and her ears rang with a high pitched ting. Before she could recover, a gauntlet gripped her hard by the arm and jerked her up and backwards. A blade came leveled against her throat, and his arm crushed her breasts as he held her firmly against him.

"Stop what'cher doin' or the girl dies."

Roen felt her body starting to stiffen already from the exposure, the coat she had grabbed now laying lifeless on the ground where she had fallen. Her trembling fingers slipped against the cold armor as she tried to pry his grip away with no avail. She saw Askier walk in an arc to stand before them, next to the cliff that the cabin oversaw. His nostrils were flared, breath misting in quick puffs and trailing south in the Coerthian dawn.

"Crim, it's over. You kill that woman... Gharen, the Flames, they will hunt you down. Do you think Delial would ever forgive you for it? Didn't you make a promise? Come on, big guy," he shouted into the icy winds. "You said you were a man of your word. Killing her would make you a liar, and I never knew you to lie before. Don't be a liar now."

"I did what I had ta keep 'er safe. You started this fight, ya coward! Now yer tryin' ta talk me down 'cuz ya can't win? Ya got no honor, Askier. Getcher arse over here, kneel down with yer hands up, and surrender. Otherwise, she dies, and so do you. It don't even matter if I kill ya 'r not. All the others ya just mentioned? Think they won't hunt you down fer all o' this? Give up while she still lives."

"She dies, I have no reason to stick around, Crim." Askier said, his voice leveled and careful. "I'll admit, I started this fight and I'm sorry, but this can't go on. I'll gladly turn myself over to the Flames and suffer their judgement than give myself over to what I know you are now capable of doing, Crim. Delial spoke so highly of you before. You really going to let her down now and kill Roen? Think this through. I'm begging you here."  Askier got on his knees, though he still held onto the objects he had in his hand. "Let her mount my chocobo and ride away. Please."

"I wanted ta help 'er." Crim's words sounded choked now. "I offered 'er my help an' she called me a liar. Then you wouldn't make 'er shut up. I toldja I'd do it my own way, an' when I did? You attacked me." He shook his head. "So no. I ain't lettin' 'er go. I got a mission ta finish. But if you don't put'cher lil' bomb down, well... then I'm gonna have to make 'er scream. I'm not askin' ya, Askier. I'm tellin' ya... give yerself up ta me right now or I'll cut 'er pretty li'l head off an' send it ta Natalie in a box as a reward fer all the good this 'as done 'er."

Roen hissed as the blade pushed further against her flesh, the cold steel just shy of cutting her skin. Her body was starting to shake, though from the blade or the cold she did not know.

"And if I give myself to you, Crim, what happens?" Askier narrowed his eyes as he rose to his feet, distrust burning in his eyes. "How do I know you won't kill us anyway? Here you are promising to kill Roen after promising not to kill her. What do I believe now, Crim?"

“You believe that yer tongue is what gotcha inta this mess ta begin with, but it sure ain't what's gonna getcha out. Now I've done showed ya time an' again that when I get my way, I ain't hostile. But you didn't wanna play that game. So make yer decision, Askier. Either piss me off more an' see what happens, or give up. I'm past carin' which way this goes right now."

Roen stared at Askier and blinked as she watched him pull a linkpearl out of his ear and toss it over the side of the cliff. Then he discarded what he had in his hand over the edge as well; when it landed, heartbeats later, it gave a quieter boom than the one that had struck the cabin. Smoke rose from behind the Miqo’te as he took his robe off and tossed that aside as well, the wind carrying it away. He narrowed his eyes intently as he withdrew one more thing from his satchel.

"Will you at least respect the rights of a prisoner of war?"  

Crim flexed his wrist ever so slightly, the sharp metal scratching at her skin as if in warning. The suspicion was clear in his low rumbled words. "You were my brother once. I owe ya that much."

"You swear on the Twelve?" Askier curled his hand tighter around that object in his hand, dropping the satchel now at his feet.

"I swear on the Twelve that words ain't my strong point, an' if you don't give yerself up in the next ten seconds, Roen dies." The blade at her throat slid just an ilm, and cut the flesh just enough to draw blood. Roen held her breath, readying herself for the last moments. Even as a single rivulet of blood trickled down to her chest, she knew it was not a mortal wound, but another ilm would end her life. Crim's voice was a white puff of frost next to her ears as he growled at the Miqo'te, "And I swear that on all Twelve."

"If that’s your answer, big guy," Askier gritted his teeth and his golden eyes met hers for an instant. He had a look of an apology as he traced the red line that grew down her throat, but all he could offer was a small, odd smile. Roen’s own eyes widened as she then saw something flash before the Miqo’te’s expression. She saw his chest rise in a long inhale as if he was bracing himself for something. Askier looked back to Crim, his jaw clenched.

“This is repayment for complicating my life,” Askier said bitterly.

His thumb pulled a pin on the explosive. The pin landed onto the snow without a sound. Roen parted her lips to call out something, but Askier just gave her an odd expression as he held out his hand away from him.

“Roen, I’m sorry." He sounded sincere for the first time since she has met him. He then narrowed his eyes on the Roegadyn behind her with disappointment and resignation. "I surrender, big guy. Good luck.”

Roen gasped one half-heartbeat before she saw the blinding flash of light from his extended hand, followed by the explosion that obliterated the Miqo’te’s arm. She saw blood and flesh erupt from where the appendage used to be, bone and muscle burnt and shattered. It spattered onto the white snowy ground beneath his feet and against his face, even has his eyes began to roll backwards. Roen felt her scream die in her throat as the smell of burnt flesh assaulted her senses. She felt Crim's hold against her chest tighten painfully as they both watched Askier’s body start to fall back, the Miqo'te now limp and unconscious from the shock of the wound. His bloodied hair was tossed against his pale but blood-stained face by the icy wind that howled all around them.

And then he was gone. Askier's mangled frame plunged over the edge of the cliff, blood and smoke trailing after him.

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 06-23-2014

“Gharen Wolfsong,

I need to speak to you urgently on a matter concerning your sister. It is a matter of life and death. Please meet me alone, tomorrow evening on the docks outside of the Silver Bazaar. I have placed Roen outside of reach until this is over. If you truly wish for your sister to live a life without fear, meet me there, her future is in your hands. Any trickery will doom her.”

--Unsigned



Seagulls glided through the blue skies, their shadows skimming across the water’s surface as quiet waves lapped against the wooden pillars of the dock. Gharen Wolfsong stepped onto the pier with the letter in hand, delivered the sun before by the mail moogle, the ominous message within unsigned. He narrowed his eyes onto the figure clad in armor at the end of the landing. He stopped half way, the still afternoon air between the two figures was thick with humidity.

"Ye've alot o' nerve. Ye know tha'?" he called out across the pier.

"I'm aware. I think it is a condition we both share," the armored figure answered, as if to note that both of them had come alone to this meeting. Only the seagulls and the sun bore witness to their exchange.

There was a moment’s pause before the helmet was lifted off her head, and Natalie Mcbeef looked at the Highlander. “Gharen,” her voice was somber.

Gharen narrowed his hazel eyes, jaw set. There was no surprise on his countenance. "Ye don' know anythin' about me. Lets get tha' straight."

Natalie smiled, although it did not reach her eyes. "I knew enough to get you here.”

"A simple "Need te talk te ye" would have sufficed,” he rumbled.

Natalie slowly shook her head, her expression darkening. “I don't think it would." She sighed, before she leveled her gaze at him. "Gharen, I need you to turn yourself in."

"Fer what?"

The Miqo’te held up her hand and ticked off her fingers one by one. “Terrorism, stealing a ceruleum core, consorting with Garleans…” she paused for a moment, her voice lowering. “And because the Syndicate said so."

"Don' know what yer talkin' about. Terrorism?” He placed his hands on his hips, regarding her squarely. “Consorting with Garleans? Won' deny th' bit about th' core. Though I had nothin' te do with tha' regardless."

Natalie let out a long exhale, sadness falling like a shadow over her features. "It's the last one really, that's the most important. I've made a deal with them you see. Amnesty for Roen, a chance for her to live a normal life, and all they ask for in return... is you.”

A pause fell between them. The water continued to lap below their feet.

"I see. So I'm te be th' sacrifice ye make te keep yer superiors happy? How do you think that'll go o'er with her?"

Natalie rolled her shoulders in a shrug. Her cool demeanor did not waver. "She won't know. I don't plan to tell her. She deserves a better life than to be shackled to her past and to her fugitive of a brother.” She narrowed her eyes onto Gharen, her tone turning grim. "You don't want to know what they promised they'd do if I didn't cooperate."

The Highlander regarded the woman, no anger in his voice. "I pity ye. Yer road te hell's goin' te be paved in these good intentions o' yers. I wonder how long ye'll be able te live with 'em and keep up th' charade."

Natalie let out a hollow laugh. "What would you have me do then? Scoff at their demands and watch as Roen is led to a scaffold and hung as a spy? This won't be the first or the last time I've pushed my ideals aside to deal with reality." Her facade lost all hint of amusement.

"Oh, ye don' have te convince me any, but it sounds like yer trying te convince yerself more'n anythin'.” He inhaled, his own expression resigned. “But as I said ‘good intentions’. So, do I jus' let ye cuff me here an' drag me off te th' dungeons? Or am I te die here at th' tip o' yer blade?"

The two stared at each other a long moment across the pier. "You don't seem very surprised by any of this.” She canted her head. "Did you already know....?"

"I suspected, visit from a flame about a moon ago mentioned th' blades. Two an' two.”

Natalie’s expression fell just slightly, betraying something beneath the cool facade. "Yet you came unarmed." She frowned and pinched her nose, turning to face the waters behind her. "...Gods, how did it all turn out like this?”

She stared out for a moment longer, her frown only deepening. When she turned back to Gharen, her eyes were once more narrowed. "To answer your question Gharen, I'm under no illusions that what I'm doing is just, or even good." She grimaced. "I just can't see any other path."

A pair of shackles were slid from the Miqo’te to come to a stop at Gharen’s feet. He looked to her before picking them up. "'fore we go anywhere with this. Where is she?"

"Safe.” She nodded in reassurance. “I hired someone to hold her away from the city. I don't know the exact location, but she'll be returned to the city after this.” A pause. "If I don't know myself... it can't be tortured out of me."

He stared at her a moment longer, then bent to pick up the shackles, closing one around his wrist. He pulled his arms behind him to bind his other hand. "Ye'd better hope she is. Because if she's nae, I'll rectify lett'n ye walk away from th' mines."

Natalie approached him, her armored boots making the wooden boards creak beneath her feet. "She wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for you Gharen. They knew you two are related, and used her to get to you." She stood before him, her expression somber despite the fact that she now had her prisoner in tow. "Don't worry, as if I'd let harm come to her after I've gone to these lengths."

She checked the bindings, then looked up to him. "Any last requests.... or messages, before I take you back to the city?"

Gharen set his jaw, and grumbled low. "Let’s jus' get this o'er with."

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 06-23-2014

“Hello, Jameson,” Natalie greeted blandly.

The finely dressed nobleman walked out of the Gates of the Sultana, with three large armored men escorting him. He squinted in the afternoon sun, his feathered hat lending little in the way of relief for all its fancy embroidery and a golden feather from the bright glare of the desert. He spied the armored Miqo’te woman and her taller shackled prisoner and smiled.

"I see that you have delivered on your promise."

Natalie held up her hand to give him pause. "Before you get too excited... I need to know if you've delivered on yours.”

“Ah, the bargain we struck. For Deneith’s amnesty.” He lifted his gloved hand, two fingers motioning his guards to surround the Highlander.

“Aye, the bargain.” Natalie frowned, green eyes glancing to the armored men. "Jameson...? That won't be needed, he came willingly."

Jameson shrugged. "He may be willing now, but he may not be soon enough." He turned his attention to the Highlander. "Wolfsong is it? My employer has gone through quite the trouble to find you." He gave him another smile when he was met with a narrowed gaze.

Natalie stepped in between them, her brows furrowed. "You haven't answered my question," she growled.

"The bargain is nearly done, Natalie.” Jameson tugged on his white gloves. “I need to get him into custody and see what names he gives up. My employer will be happy, and happily agree to the amnesty." He gestured vaguely into the air. "Or... burn the documents with proof, anyroad. Else you want the documents delivered to you?"

Natalie gave him a dangerous look. “That wasn't the deal Jameson, she gets amnesty, regardless of what he gives up.”

Jameson clucked his tongue. "You do not recall clearly then, Natalie. The bargain was that I satisfy my employer, and the amnesty happens. This…” he looked Gharen up and down, like a piece of meat. “...goes a long way though. Perhaps his execution will satisfy them." He gave Natalie his usual sly smile.

"No perhaps," Natalie said sharply, her eyebrows twitching.

Jameson seems unfazed by her ire and rolled his shoulders again. "Or a whipping?  Or beheading? Hanging? Who knows? Names would be nice. His fate may not be so hard then." He glanced back up at the Highlander who was continuing to hold his tongue. "What do you say, Wolfsong? What will it be? Some names to spare your life? Or a quick death?"

"Well I'd show ye but these shackles'd make it tough fer me te shove yer head up yer arse," Gharen finally answered, his eyes still intently studying Jameson’s face. "But I'll get aroun' te tha' eventually, I'm sure."

Natalie’s hand curled into a fist by her side as she growled again. "I'm not in the mood for games, you fop. I didn't do this for maybes and possibilities."

"Hmm." The noble hummed, unimpressed. He gave Natalie a sidelong glance. "I will get for you what I promised. But you do realize, I do not make these decisions." He bowed his head slightly, meeting her eye for eye. He smiled. "But I am certain my employers will be satisfied. You have been a model employee so far.”

Natalie exhaled, her eyes closing. She nodded reluctantly. "Fine... just.... just hold up your end." After a pause, she stared back at Jameson, the look of warning returning. "Gods help you if you do not." She turned away, as if to hide the deep frown that was bending her brows.

Jameson smiled brightly at her. “Why so sullen, Natalie? You did a good job! Turning in a terrorist!"

Natalie snapped back around. "Don't insult me Jameson, we both know what I really did."

Jameson only answered her with a smirk, before he turned back to the Highlander, appraising him. “Now Wolfsong, you look much too comfortable. My employers will not be happy seeing you without a scratch, understand." He gave Natalie a sidelong glance, shaking his head. "I expected some wounds on him. Color me a little disappointed."

"Dinnae want te hurt th' lass, me bein' a dangerous criminal an' all.” Gharen rumbled, looking down at the shorter hyur. “That'd nae be proper."

Jameson sniffed, holding up his hand again and motioned to the men. “Now be a good prisoner while we mark you up a bit. For.. presentation, obviously."

"...Right." The Highlander did not move, his jaw set.

Jameson Taeros sighed and stepped back away from the Highlander as the three armored men closed in around him, two flanking him on each side, one behind him. With no warning, Gharen received a hard kick to the back of his knee, sending him to the ground. The two men next to him started to deliver blows to his face, kicks to the stomach and ribs. The Highlander grunted, but remained stoic and silent, receiving the blows as they came. His hands bound behind him, there were no ways to shield himself from the beating nor did he attempt to. And the men that surrounded him were strong, and they were brought here for this purpose. They knew how to deliver a vicious beating.

"Now... had you delivered him a little bit more presentable, I would not need to do this." Jameson looked to Natalie, a near bored expression on his face. "Alas. Presentation is everything to my employer." He paused for an instant however, his light eyes glancing immediately to the Highlander when a low rumbling growl emerged from Wolfsong’s chest.

"Don't you fucking dare put this on me, this was never part of the deal!” Natalie hissed. "I don't hurt anyone I don't have to!”

Jameson’s gaze lingered on the Highlander for a moment longer, but when the growl did not give way to anything else, he turned back to Natalie with his sly smile back in place. "What did you think would happen, Natalie. That we politely escort him to our dungeons?"

"Yes," she said plainly. "I'm not stranger to torture, but you're not even asking him questions." She scowled. "This... is just wrong." She shook her head. "You're beating a man just because you can."

Jameson shifted in his stance, almost as if to keep the view of the Highlander in his periphery. The three men still beating on him however did not seemed to notice or care of Wolfsong’s underlying temper. "The questions will come, Natalie. But only those broken in are likely to answer." He shrugged nonchalantly then curled the sly smile again. "And yes... because we can."

Natalie glowered. "Just get it over with then." She flicked the barest glance toward the scene of the beating, as one armored man grabbed Gharen by the cuff of his shirt, bringing his fists onto the shackled man’s face without mercy or reprieve.

“Not so tough are ya…?” The bearded guard sneered at his prisoner, spittle flying at his face.

Wolfsong only met the gaze coldly, his furrowed brows the only sign that he was concentrating intently on keeping his emotions in check. As if he knew why he was here, and why he had to take this. And it was not for his sake.

Jameson sighed restlessly as he watched for a while longer, until the three men started to show signs of exhaustion, and Wolfsong was dropped back to the ground. The guards were breathing heavily.

Natalie turned away from the scene, her eyes going bitterly to Jameson. “He's your responsibility now... whatever happens. I'll expect those documents within the next few suns." Her green eyes burned with a threat of its own.

Jameson answered her with a pleased and easy expression. “And you shall have them, I expect. Yes, my employer will be pleased indeed.”

Gharen spat out blood onto the stoney ground, looking up at Natalie’s back. His lip was split and bloody and his face was adorned with multiple gashes from gauntlet blows. He spoke with a low rumbling voice. "Till we next meet Miss Mcbeef,  An' may th' road before ye always be well paved."

Natalie stood still, her head lowered, but did not turn to meet Gharen’s eyes.

Jameson nodded to the three men. “Take him to the cell.” His light eyes squinted in the afternoon sun as he watched the two heave the Highlander by his arms, dragging him away. He looked to Natalie, who still stood next to him, her back turned to the prisoner being taken away. Her feet seemed rooted for a moment, her expression dark.

“Always pleasure doing business with you Natalie,” Jameson smiled, tipping his feathered hat to the Miqo’te. “Perhaps we can get that drink one of these days.”

Natalie just stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then shook her head and angrily strode back toward the gate.

RE: Second Hand Faith - McBeefâ„¢ - 06-24-2014

"Why am I even doing this...?"

Natalie stares down into the wash basin with haggard eyes, her rust colored armor throwing a red tinge to all she saw. Appropriate, for that's what she was now. She'd always disdained the Brass Blades, thought them weak and greedy, blaming them for many of Ul'dah's problems. Now though, glaring at her reflection, she wonders if she is any different.

The pure and valiant Sultansworn and the cravenly Brass Blades, a staple of every story and tale, an understanding woven into the society and language of the city. This experience had changed her perspective. They were not heartless thieves, by and large, but simply victims of the beast that was Ul'dah. They all had their reasons, and they were as varied as the people themselves. Debts, duties, pardons, threats, favors, family, honor, faith... and simple avarice was rare to be found among them. They did what they did because they had to... as did she.

Natalie grimaces, regarding herself once more. She did what she had to, and in saving one, another was now sacrificed. But where did it end? She shakes her head, gripping the edges of the basin.

Where indeed?

RE: Second Hand Faith - McBeefâ„¢ - 06-27-2014

Natalie walks down the street, her head spinning from what she had heard. Askier's employee had gone rogue? Roen was… actually kidnapped? It seemed too ridiculous to believe, and her source had been less than reliable, but she was unable to contact him and verify. “Twelves damned Garleans,” she mutters, “No wonder they can’t win a war, no professionalism.” She’d love nothing better than to tear into the heart of this matter, but first there was a problem to deal with.

A very well dressed problem.

She found him outside the Quicksand, speaking to Ser Crofte, an icy woman who apparently had taken Nat’s position at the order. She was everything Nat wasn’t, elegant, composed… and dreadfully boring.


"Ah! Ser Crofte. I have heard of you from Jenlyns..." he glances to the side spotting the familiar figure in Blades uniform.

Ser Crofte regards him, "And you are?"

Jameson bows courteously to Coatleque, "Jameson Taeros. At your service."

Natalie approaches, "Ser Crofte..." she grimaces "... Jameson."

Dressed as impeccably as always he smiled, "Dear Natalie. Good to see you again." He sounds so pleasant.

"Hello to you too." she says with a sardonic air.

Jameson laughs, "Why so glum? I bring you good news!"

Natalie smirks, "Somehow I doubt that Jameson, but I'm listening."

Ser Crofte clears her throat, "If there was nothing further, I doubt you would care for my eavesdropping."

He gives Ser Crofte a sly smile and a wink. "Alas, unfortunately, my business with Natalie here is of... private nature. But perhaps you and I can grab a drink one of these days?"

Natalie rolls her eyes.

Coatleque glances between the two. "Aye, anything could happen I suppose. Stay safe." She walks off down the avenue.

"Mm. Redheads." He says under his breath before turning to Natalie with a smile.

Natalie sighs, looking at him impatiently, "So...?"

"You delivered on your end, it is my time I delivered on -my- end, Dear Natalie. We can discuss it here... or outside the gates. It matters not to me." He looks completely at ease.

Natalie pauses and regards him carefully, "Somehow I'm not convinced you won't betray me at the last moment." She nods, "Let's at least get out of the street."

Jameson shakes his head and tsks as he follows her to a quiet alley. "So little trust."

She turns to face him removing her helmet and shaking out her sweat dampened hair, "Alright, tell me the good news."

Jameson cocks his head at her. "You should be happy to hear. My employer was -quite- pleased." He withdraws from his satchel a large envelope and extends it to her. "Here. Everything we have that would damn your girl." He smiles.

Natalie looks at it with trepidation, "What did Gharen have to endure for me to get this?" she takes it with a trembling hand
.
He curls a sly grin. "Do you really want to know, Natalie?"

She grimaces before nodding once, quickly. "Yes."

"He is underground, in a metal cell. The best furnace we got. We leave prisoners there to wither, and die. Turned into husks really. My employer has yet to make a show of him though. Perhaps the right inspiration has not hit him." He lifts his brows once, looking amused at the thought.

She shakes her head bitterly, "And for what? Why not just kill him? You have what you want from him."

He shakes his head and tsks. "Natalie," he says in a forced patient tone. "Quick deaths are so... boring!" He frowns slightly at the word, "My employer likes... satisfaction. Amusement if you will. Merciful executions are for Sworns and the Sultana."

Natalie bares her teeth slightly, "This cannot be condoned by the Sulanate, they torture... but not for pleasure, and I wasn't aware the syndicate kept it's own death chambers under the city."

Jameson curls another devilish smile at Natalie. "You would be amazed how many affairs you are not aware of."

She bites her lip and looks to the side, "I'm sure you're right."

He sighs and shrugs. "I am but one messenger though, Natalie. You know this already. I do as bid. And it does me well."

Natalie opens up the packet, "But this is it? Amnesty? No tricks?"

He leans in with a pointed look. "And as you have discovered, you do as we bid, you will get your rewards. But you almost sound disappointed."

She smirks at him, "I was looking for a reason to hate you Jameson.” She chuckles sadly, "But as you said... you're just a messenger."

"If words are not kept, then the cogs and webs that hold and run this city falls apart. We had a deal, and you delivered. Congratulations Natalie. Your girl, as at least free from our clutches. You should be pleased. Smile!" He smiles at her in example.

Natalie laughs in spite of herself, "Gods Jameson… If only you'd picked a different master."

He narrows his amber eyes at her, his grin still in place. "Then you would have that drink with me?"

She actually smiles now, "I just might."

He curls another smile, and this one... is slightly different. "Well, it is too bad your girl will never know what you did for her. But being that her brother's life was the price, perhaps it is best." He tilts his head, "Where -is- the girl? I have yet to hear how she has been doing. Since her ... obvious failure. Unlike you and Kiryuu, who have performed and adjusted quite well to the way of the Brass Blades."


Natalie shrugs, "All secrets are fleeing things Jameson, I'm sure she'll find out eventually." She pauses, her throat suddenly dry, “Ah, Roen? She's on a long patrol..." she clears her throat and laughs, "Have we been such model Blades? That's what worries me ."

"I heard from Anden that he has not been seen recently. I hope she is not deserting her duties. After all your efforts to exonerate her, it would not do her well to be in trouble with her superiors. ... Again."

Natalie shakes her head and shrugs, "Wouldn't know, she's not under my command."

Jameson lets out a long sigh. "Only if she would perform as well as you and Kiryuu have. Admirable indeed."

She smirks, "In my own way I'm proud that she hasn't."

"Oaths and all." He tsks with a shake of his head. "She will have to be broken in. Sooner or later."

Natalie smiles back at him, "That's where we differ. Not everything in this world needs to be dragged down into the muck."

He arches a brow at her. "What do you mean, Natalie?"

She keeps grinning, "Some trees can remain unbent by the storm."

His shoulders rise and fall with an inhale and he looks at her pointedly"Well, we like to put the Blade to those trees.” He breaks into a smile. "We will see who outlasts whom. Hm?"

She chuckles, "That we will Jameson."

"It is easier to bend, Natalie. Always easier to bend."

"That's true Jameson, but someone has to stay straight."

"Easier I suppose, if you were still a Sworn. To stick to the straight and narrow. But you had your chance at that already, aye?" His expression is... so smug.

Natalie shakes her head, "It's not that Jameson, if everyone bends, it becomes the new straight." she smiles despite his insult, "After the storm passes, we all need examples, of what we were like before we bent." She smiles and nods once, “Roen is that to me."

He blinks, his brows furrowing just slightly. The smug expression gives way to something just for a passing moment. "It is too bad, Natalie. That I work for the employer that I do. You and I could have been better friends."

She laughs, "Life is a mysterious thing Jameson, you never know what will happen. We might get that drink one day yet."

Jameson cocks his head then the sly expression returns. "Perhaps, Natalie. Perhaps." He inhales. "Well, job well done. You have your reward. Back to your usual duties you go."

She taps the folder, "Whatever happens in the future, thank you for this." she nods, "Until next time."

"I suppose I can check in on Anden about your girl's status." He bows courteously, "Always a pleasure doing business with you Natalie. Always a pleasure."

She nods and raps a finger against the packet with a smile, “Jameson, this is the first time I can say the same.”

RE: Second Hand Faith - Kage - 06-30-2014

((Introspection of a talk with Natalie just after the scene above as Kage is about to beg Osric for help before certain events))

Kage silently prepared. Just a bell ago Natalie had shocked and rocked his world. He would have asked and roared at her but he knew… he knew what it was that she had been thinking.


Roen deserved a life away from Ul’dah. Roen wasn’t meant to be a Brass Blade. She wasn’t meant for this life. What better way to do that then to get her out of it? To actually give her her life back, away from Jameson Taeros.


Roen would hate her. Roen had been willing to give up the oath for Gharen and her adopted family. Natalie would be fine with that. Was it not Natalie who had said she was fine with Roen hating her as long as she could ensure Roen was helped that night in the headquarters?


But now it was all messed up.This was the first time Kage had ever seen one of Natalie’s reckless decisions backfire so much. They had always worked before, but this… this time it hadn’t. Roen who they had thought was safely and securely outside of Ul’dah was actually in harm’s way and they didn’t know where she was.They still didn’t know where Gharen Wolfsong was being held. They needed help. But who?


… Sergeant Melkire.


Perhaps.

RE: Second Hand Faith - McBeefâ„¢ - 06-30-2014

((put this in the wrong thread, It should be in 'what doesn't kill you makes you strong' ))

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 07-14-2014

[sub]((This post follows the events from here and here.))[/sub]






She did not want to sleep. To sleep was to dream, and her dreams were filled with dark tormented things.

Roen sat near the edge of the cliff with her legs folded under her, in a meditative pose. Her eyes were closed, her senses filled with the sound of the pounding waterfall in the distance. The cool misty air soothed her skin as it drank in the warm midday Noscean sun.

Since Hornet’s visit to the camp Gharen had set up--a camp hidden within a remote alcove in Middle Noscea--her nights had been free of nightmares. Roen suspected it was in thanks to Hornet’s strangely scented herbal tea that she was no longer waking screaming in terror. But whenever she was left to her solitude to meditate, despite her best efforts to clear her mind and focus her thoughts, the forbidden memories returned. Memories of that cursed boat in the middle of the sea, to where she and the unconscious form of Askier were taken by Crimson Mountain after their hurried departure from Coerthas.

“I'm going to mark your body, signify it as my own.” The memory of the Roegadyn’s voice still made her shudder.

Screams followed; such screams filled with anguish, pain... begging for life, then begging for death.

Askier had wanted to die.

“We can escape. We can kill ourselves,” the golden-eyed Miqo’te had rasped, struggling to breath.

"If we are driven to end our lives... he wins," Roen had whispered back. "We must survive this.” Roen was clinging onto what little hope she had left, that singular intent to survive not permitting the despair and hopelessness to overtake her.

"Roen, if we get through this, is there any way I can repay you for the suffering I have forced you to endure?" Askier asked her, his swollen eyes closed, his head hung low.

“Let us survive this first,” she said, trying to reassure him, though her voice faltered at his first hint of true regret. After a breath’s pause, another plea suddenly rose from her chest: “Please do not die.”

Those words echoed in her memory and made her grimace. Even now, many suns since she and Askier were carried off that forsaken boat, and had been free of Crimson’s cruelty, even now she recalled the fear and loneliness, her desperation of not wanting to be left alone with the monster. She had asked Askier to live.

He was nearly dead by the time the boat docked on Crescent Cove. But thankfully, he still drew breath when they were both carried off of it together. Delial had agreed to exchange herself for the hostages, agreeing to sail off with the Roegadyn. Because in some twisted way, Crimson Mountain still loved the Highlander woman.

“And then Delial ended his life,” Gharen told her later.

Roen felt nothing stir within her. No relief. No vindication. It was like an empty call that went unanswered within the black chasm that pitted her insides.

"Roen. You're relieved of your duties.” Roen flinched in her mediation as Natalie’s last words came roaring back into her mind. Her former Sultansworn mentor’s voice had been cold and deliberate when she approached her at Crescent Cove. There was no sadness, no regret upon the Miqo’te’s unaffected exterior. “Ul'dah is no place for you. You’re far too weak for this city.”

Tears fell onto her balled fists as Roen bowed her head, her meditative form broken. Her frame shook, all vestiges of focus and calm lost.

All that she had endured, it had been because Natalie had arranged for her to be taken so that her brother’s death could be arranged. That knowledge crippled her like no other, shaking her to the core. Of all the people she loved and trusted, Natalie… she was the one who began all this.

“Get away from me!!” Roen still remembered her own distraught words as she shrieked at the Miqo’te. She had crumpled to the ground, after her hands were freed from their unnatural contortion, being bound behind her to a collar around her neck. She could recall now how weak they were; she could not even raise them to her face to hide her humiliation and anger.

Even now her fingers twitched upon her lap, as if trying to recall the simple task of moving again. Her arms had lost much of its muscle and strength, being held immobile that way for many suns. The recollections came with emotions that battered her with gale force winds of shame and torment.

“Focus on the clear waters. Calm your thoughts.” Roen's voice shook. She struggled to recall Gharen’s lessons on meditation.

Roen blinked through the blurriness of her vision as more moisture fell onto her hands that twitched again. Her form bent, she stared at her fingers as they opened, then closed into a tighter fist, her knuckles white. More voices flitted through her memory, like frightened fireflies skirting through the air, twisting and spinning, too flighty to catch and yet lending for a brief moment a glimpse of a promise.

“You do not have to remain in the mud they drag you through," Ser Crofte’s voice came back to her. She shared with Roen an insight about her past that Roen did not truly appreciate at the time. “You are what you choose to be."

"S'good t'see ye, too. E'en if tis a spectre." These from Qaeli Varily. The silver-haired Hyur had returned from her months of absence without explanation, and yet it only took her a few minutes to notice something was amiss. "Unwell or nae, ye're nae beyond repair."

“I am not broken,” she heard herself say. More than once. She needed to believe it. “I just need to learn to get back up.”

“Oh, aye," another voice said, floating past her conscious mind. "Even those things that I sell that are tangible - the blank books, the false maps, the fool's fool's gold - these are all things that have some kind of value, somewhere. They can be used, made good again. Even the most destitute, desolate thing, is worth something." Verad Bellveil, a curiously odd merchant of “dubious” goods that Roen had accidentally encountered in Limsa. He too had lent her threads of wisdom in their conversations. His words left her with inkling of hope, the same hope he held for his own goods.

"This isn't your fault," Osric offered, his growly voice promising retribution. "And you can be gods-damned sure the rest of us'll see to balancing Nald's scales."

Was that what she wanted? Would that close the gaping wound that still bled her from within? Crimson Mountain was dead; Delial, his lover, had done the deed herself. Askier had been tortured to an inch of his life. Gharen was free and alive, and Natalie…

Natalie was still back in Ul’Dah, serving as a Brass Blade, answering to the will of the Syndicate.

“This will most likely be my goodbye to you.” Kage had looked upon her with sad tearful eyes. “I... I couldn't let it only be my beret.”

That white feathered beret. Osric had delivered it with the rest of her things from her room in Ul’Dah. She knew it was not hers.

“Come now, Roen!" Kage's voice came to her from a simpler, happier time. "It’s the new trend! We both have one. You should too!” The Lalafell had worn such a proud grin when he modelled his newest prize, those many moons ago. The beret had a brilliant golden chocobo feather sticking out from one side.

The pristine white fabric seemed to drink in the shining gleam of the new white paladin armor all three of them wore. The dark blue Sultansworn surcoat hung proudly from the shoulders. Even many suns after the Oath ceremony, it had still made Roen pause with admiration at the paladin regalia.

Natalie had mirrored Kage’s smile, looking down at the Lalafell. Both tipped their beret in Roen’s direction, the slight breeze of the afternoon causing the fine golden feather fingers to dance and wave in the air. “You would look ravishing,” Natalie said with a laugh.

Roen just shook her head, her arms crossed in front of her with skepticism. “Ah, nay. I think I can do without. I prefer my helm.”

“You can’t wear your helm all the time! Especially not in the city!” Kage’s enthusiastic smile was almost contagious. “We are all Sultansworns now! I am just going to have to get you one, and you will have to wear it.”

“You would not dare!” Roen vehemently waved her hands in front of the Lalafell, though a smile broke through despite her dismay. The three of them had laughed, there in the middle of the Ul’Dah thoroughfare.

The memory seemed ages past.

"It has been a pleasure and my honor to have known you, and to have been your oath-brother." Those were Kage’s last words as he visited Roen, bearing the grim warning that Captain Anduron was planning to send men after her to bring her back on charges of desertion. Kage had been charged with the task, but he defied the orders in warning her instead, intending to resign as a Brass Blade upon his return. He seemed resigned to whatever fate awaited him after.

Roen glanced to the side where that white feathered beret sat, on the stones next to her. Her eyes lingered there, watching the wispy fingers as they trembled with each passing breeze. Such pride used to swell her chest before, back when the Oath was as real to her as the love her brothers and sisters of the shield bore her, and she them. And now…

It only brought her sorrow and doubt. Would it always be this way? Kiht had looked upon her with such pity, her dark ears flattened against her head. Was that how the rest of them saw her?

I am not broken. I just need to learn to get back up.

Roen slowly straightened, drawing a deep breath in. Her eyes followed the course of the white waters as it made its descent from the clifftops to the rocky landing below.

Such a violent fall...

But the mists that resulted from it caught the sun’s rays, calling forth an arc of colors that that shimmered and painted the blue sky.

Roen sat motionless and stared at the misty air, trying to discern the colors for a long time.

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 07-17-2014

[sub]((This post follows events from here and here.))[/sub]






I'll never see the end of this, Roen thought darkly. Or worse, they will truly be the end of me. She cursed the day she'd ever heard of the documents.

The papers contained the testimony of a confessed Garlean spy, The Rose, who had fingered Roen as his accomplice. He had admitted to using Roen's knowledge of the Resistance to find the stolen ceruleum core, as well as her association with the Sultansworns to set up a conflict that then served as a distraction for the ceruleum theft. He even knew the name and the details of her Garlean father, a high ranking military officer. That was in there too.

Roen knew that the evidence was damning. It was because it was so damning that it had forced Natalie’s hand to do what she did to secure it: having Roen kidnapped and out of the way, and to lure out and capture her brother by blood, Gharen Wolfsong, to turn over to the Syndicate.

And now Roen had entrusted this cursed evidence to Hornet, who was to turn it over to Ser Crofte, a Sultansworn who seemed determined to use the evidence that had caused so much suffering to try and right some of the wrongs it had caused. Ser Crofte had said that it could save more than just her. Did she also mean Natalie and Kage who were still trapped in their service to the Syndicate?

Roen had dared to hope, dared to believe in this new Sultansworn who had shown her nothing but her devotion to her Oath and also compassion to Roen’s plight. That perhaps, out of all this misery, something good could still be salvaged. For not just herself, but Kage and Natalie.

But when Hornet returned earlier today with her grim tidings, Roen was reminded yet again that she continued to make the same mistakes that had led to so much hardship: she had been too trusting. Hornet was convinced that the Sworn were just another cog in the corrupted system that was Ul’Dah. Even though they both held genuine hope for Crofte’s success, the fact that her commander told her to arrest the suspected spy did not sit well with Hornet, Roen, or Gharen.

But there was a part of Roen that did not want to surrender the small thread of hope that she had been given by the Sultansworn.

So as dark rainy clouds gathered above, Hornet, Gharen and Roen approached the Lighthouse south of Moraby Bay, to hear what Ser Crofte had to say. As they walked up the hill approaching the meeting place, Roen stole glances at Gharen’s shining armor, white and blue and glimmering even beneath the cloudy sky; it signified him as a Free Paladin. She hid her own pang of remorse at the sight of it, for she herself felt that she was unworthy of it; dismissed from the Sultana’s service as she had been, then branded deserter by the Brass Blades. Roen was a lost paladin without a purpose.

“Ser Deneith.” Ser Crofte greeted her, always with that title. It was meant as an honor, yet only brought shadows of regret; reminders of mistakes made. “Good to see you about once more," Crofte continued. She nodded in greeting to Hornet and Gharen.

"Aye, Ser Crofte, 'tis good to have a name te go with th' face," Gharen said. He stood between the Sultansworn and Roen, with Hornet in her dark armor and an enormous lance standing off to the side.

"I trust Madam Hornet has delivered my message. Unless she has brought you here for me to relay it myself."

"She has, but I'd nae mind hearin' it from yer lips." Gharen narrowed his eyes at the Sultansworn.

"Very well." Crofte nodded respectfully and cleared her throat. “I have taken the file given by you into mine own custody. It is safely locked away. Using its contents, I have assumed full responsibility for the continuation of the investigation. It is no longer the Brass Blade’s responsibility to track her down."

Both Gharen and Hornet shifted in their stance just slightly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"In addition, I have been ordered by mine own superior to apprehend Ser Deneith and detain her." Crofte's even tone never wavered. “She would be detained, not in the common gaols, but with the Sultansworn.  A proper cell, better accommodations. And I will be her personal guard throughout. In the meantime, I will continue to conduct my investigation into these false charges with the ultimate goal of acquittal." She paused, her green eyes looking to each of them in turn. “I have been given a limited number of suns for a preliminary investigation before I am forced to attempt apprehension."

Obsidian Hornet crossed her arms and looked to Gharen and Roen, her scowl displayed prominently.

Crofte fixed her gaze to that of Gharen’s. "I had told Ser Deneith before, I would not proceed without her own blessing on the matter. It is that same reason I decided to relay these goings on first, before acting." Her gaze then shifted to Roen, expectant.

“And if I do not wish to go?" Roen could not hide the disappointment from her voice.

"I shall stall for as long as I am able, you have my word. If you should choose not to go, then hide. Stay hidden and pray I do not catch wind of your location." The woman crossed her arms, her expression intent. "Otherwise... when the Captain forces my hand, I shall have no choice. You do understand, Ser Deneith?"

Roen blinked. She understood Crofte fully. As raindrops began to fall, she bowed her head.

"Well I'm sorry," Gharen muttered. "Nae happen'n. I'll lay this out fer ye. First, th' sworn have no jurisdiction in La Noscea. So ye can tell yer superior te go pound sand. Second, ye have two outcomes if'n ye come after my sister. Neither end well fer ye."

"For me, no, it most likely shall not end well, Master Wolfsong.” Crofte seemed resigned. “However I will not be alone if it comes to it. Which is why I give the warning now... I am loath to shed blood, Ser. Any blood."

"All the more reason to ignore that order.” Hornet rumbled. “Lead them on a wild goose chase if you must."

Crofte gave Hornet a sidelong glance. "I said I would stall, Madam, and I shall. As long as you stay out of my reach, it will not be a lie." She shook her head slightly.

"You don't want to do this, so don't. It is not that difficult." Hornet responded dismissively.

"Perhaps for you." Crofte answered simply, then turned her gaze back to Roen.

Roen peered back up at Crofte, and understood. She too could not lie to her superiors. And looking upon the woman, a part of her was not surprised by this outcome. “The evidence says I am a spy. Of course Captain Jenlyns would want me brought in. It would be the same for anyone."

"I'm not the one determined to get people killed hunting an innocent woman..." Hornet growled.

"You think I am looking for this?" Crofte swiveled her head back to the Roegadyn. "I swore to save her, and I shall."

"I think you're an idiot who can't see past her own nose.” Hornet did not relent, her words unforgiving. “Whatever code you're following is leading to this, and look what it's got you."

“She is doing it for the safety for the Sultana,” Roen acknowledged, her voice lowered with a hint of resignation.

“The Sultana is not in danger.” Hornet snorted.

"You are both correct." Crofte replied cooly. "Madam Hornet, unlike some persons, I do not break my oaths so easily."

Roen stiffened.

"I do wonder what that woman is worth to be all this damned trouble." Hornet shrugged and frowned up at the dark skies that continued to spray a light drizzle on them.

"Miss Crofte, I am no 'sworn, I am a Free Paladin sworn te protect any in need,” Gharen interjected after a long pause, his voice calm and expression determined. “Ul'dah has shown my family no kindness, myself branded a terrorist by a 'sworn no less, and my sister taken captive by tha' same individual. So I will be protectin' my sister from Ul'dah."

"Aye, as you say.  But what does your sister want, Ser Wolfsong?" Crofte took a long exhale, the rain tossing the chocobo feather on her beret this way and that. Roen’s eyes fixed on it as the Sultansworn continued. “She gave me the evidence. She agreed for me to aid in this matter. I did not act on my own behalf."

"You don't owe them anything, Roen." Hornet uncrossed her arms, stepping closer to Roen. Her voice was soft but held a note of fear.

"If I did not care for what she wanted, I would not have come alone."

“I... I believed you." Roen frowned, raindrops starting to gather at the tip of her lashes. "I think... I think I still believe you." She almost did not believe her own words as she uttered them.

Crofte blinked. "Ser Deneith... I... I am not giving up. I have only started." She inhaled and folded her arms behind her. “I must locate this Flame who is mentioned, then track down the ... Rose. Even if you were detained, nothing would happen to you until my investigation was completed."

Roen stared at the woman, her own thoughts a storm of emotions and doubts.

"Again, there is time before my hand is forced... do not make this choice hastily." Her voice lowered. "I am already risking much by being here. If the Captain knew I was in your presence again and did not act..." she trailed off.

Roen nodded slowly. "I will think on your words, Ser Crofte.”

"Thank you."

"I've been told yer trustworthy, but I don' really care if'n ye put her up with th' Sultana herself.” Gharen's eyes were narrowed. “People with good intentions have done enough damage as o' late. Pass this to yer superior. He sends ye after us, we disappear, an ye'll ne'er find us, or he'll have a larger incident te clean up."

“I will remember that,” Crofte said, shifting her gaze to Gharen.

"Understand this, Ser Crofte. I do not wish for any bloodshed." Roen stepped around her brother, approaching the Sultansworn.

"I feel that is something we all agree upon." Crofte nodded to her. She then glanced to Hornet and Gharen. "I have said my peace. If there is nothing further..." She nodded to each of them. "Should Ser Deneith choose to willingly surrender, you may send word directly to me. Otherwise, I shall stall as long as I am able, then send warning to Madam Hornet."

After giving a courteous bow to both Hornet and Gharen, Crofte turned to Roen with a crisp salute. There was a moment’s hesitation before Roen returned it. She felt compelled to, and her eyes lingered on Crofte for two breaths after.

"Then I bid ye best o' luck, an' a good day, Miss Crofte." Gharen nodded back to the Sultansworn and led Roen away from the Lighthouse.

When they were earshot away, Hornet turned to the siblings, her voice low. “Move the camp. And tell no one, not even me.”

Roen furrowed her brows in alarm as she looked to Hornet. The Roegadyn woman only answered her with a slight smile.

"Don't worry about me." She placed a hand on Roen’s shoulder for a brief moment with a squeeze. "This just may be the first time that I'm really fighting on the right side of things."

Gharen and Hornet exchanged a look and a smile before they both turned, returning to the road leading away. Roen hesitated a moment, her eyes going back to the figure still standing by the Lighthouse and the darkening skies behind her, before she finally turned to join her brother and Hornet.

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 07-27-2014

"You're sure about this?"

Obsidian Hornet’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. Roen was staring off at the lighthouse south of Moraby Drydocks. A light misty drizzle was beginning to descend from the skies, lending a grey hue to the seaside landscape. Even though the heavy cloak shielded her from the cold, Roen wrapped her arms around herself as the gusty ocean winds billowed her hood. She used to love the cold. But now it reminded her too much of Coerthas.

"It will be how you want it, Roen. Whatever that winds up being." Hornet placed her hand on her shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

"Sometimes I wish I knew what that was, exactly." Roen glanced over at Gharen and Hornet who both stood next to her, her brows drawn with troubled thoughts. "But I do know that I do not want you hurting anyone. Not on my account. Not those we will see today."

She meant Natalie of course, and from the look in Hornet’s eyes, the Roegadyn woman knew it too. Roen was not certain that agreeing to meet with Ser Croft and Natalie was a good idea anymore. She had initially agreed, still after some hesitation, resigned to the fact that she could not avoid nor hide from Natalie forever. Last time Roen had seen her was at Crescent Cove, and their exchange had not been kind. And when Ser Crofte contacted them to meet with herself and Natalie, Hornet offered Roen to kill Natalie if she wished.

Roen had said no. Roen asked Hornet, implored her not to kill Natalie. Hornet had promised, but even now Roen could see that there was a struggle behind the Roegadyn’s eyes. The desire. Hornet wanted retribution from Natalie for the wrongs she has committed.

"I will only do what I have to. If they try to take you, I will defend you,” she said simply. “I remember my promise, Roen.” Hornet gave her a nod then crossed the roped bridge to the other side, waiting for the Sultansworns’ arrival from Moraby.

"I am not sure what I will say to her,” Roen murmured quietly. “Or… even if I should.”

"I'm sure'n it'll come te ye." Gharen inhaled deeply.

"You told me why she did what she did." Roen looked up at her brother. “Have you… forgiven her?”

Gharen shook his head, his expression stoic. "No, but 'tis ye that needs te decide whether forgiveness is in her future or nae. I'll nae hurt her because she was a friend o' yers, less o' course she decides te be stupid again."

Her frown only deepened as she turned her gaze back toward the ocean.

"Do nae let her words define ye lass,” Gharen said, breaking the silence after a pause. "Yer nae as she said tha' day. If'n anything yer stronger than she'll ever hope te be.. an smarter te boot."

"I... do not have your strength, Gharen."

Gharen stepped up from behind her, putting a hand gently on her shoulder. “Ye do too... you jus' need te find it."

It was then that Roen saw two armored Sultansworns approach from the other side of the bridge where Hornet awaited them. Roen placed a hand over her stomach as if to quell the pitted feeling there, as she watched Hornet motion them to stand in the middle of the bridge. Gharen and Hornet flanked both ends.

"Master Wolfsong.  A pleasure as always." Crofte glanced from Hornet behind her to Gharen in front of her. Natalie stood silent next to the woman, also wearing the surcoat and armor that befit a Sworn.

"Aye, Ser Crofte. I heard yer predicament was taken care o'?" Gharen crossed his arms and nodded once in greeting. Roen glanced from her brother to the Sworn, to spot the neck that no longer wore a collar.

“If you refer to my personal dilemma, yes.” The Highlander Sworn nodded calmly.

Straightening, Roen took a step to stand near Gharen, although she kept her eyes trained on Ser Crofte. She could see Natalie shift in her stance just slightly.

"Tis fine. Seems there have been a lot o' obstacles in need o' passin' as o' late."

"Indeed. With regret, I must place another in front of you." Crofte bowed her head slightly.

That was when Natalie cleared her throat, breaking her silence. "Ser Crofte, if I may?" Her tone seemed deferential to Crofte, which caught Roen’s attention. When Crofte nodded to Natalie, she continued. "Roen, Ul'dah wants you. They won't stop until they get you, or you flee out of their reach. You have the choice of coming willingly, to what we have been assured is a fair inquiry, to flee to a land beyond their reach, or to wait for someone less... understanding to find you next."

The Miqo’te exhaled, and there was a tinge of grim resignation in her words. "The choice is yours." When Crofte shot her a look, Natalie gave the Sworn a sidelong glance. “She deserves to know the truth. Now of all times."

The Highlander woman drew herself up tall and turned back to Gharen. "Tis as she says. We are here because I am honorable. I had said I would give warning when my hand was forced."

“If you do not come with us today, we will leave.” Natalie added. "But we won't be the end of the matter, Roen. You know how relentless the Jewel can be."

After drawing a breath to steel herself, Roen turned to meet Natalie’s gaze, her jaw set. “Why are you here, Natalie?” Her voice sounded more hoarse than she’d like. “Why did you come?”

Natalie’s green eyes were as cool as ever. "Because I was ordered to do so.”  A pause. “And I would not entrust this task to another."

"Th' jewel's reach is nae as far as one would think Miss Mcbeef.” Gharen growled. “An' I see ye've nae bothered te be humbled any.” His words were also bolstered by a derisive snort from Hornet across the bridge.

"Enough,” Crofte interjected. "She is here under my orders. I brought her for a reason.”

Natalie continued regardless. "What would you have me do Gharen? Crawl on my knees? Weep? Beg for forgiveness?" She shook her head.”I did not foresee the way things would turn out." Her eyes narrowed, unwavering. “But I don't regret my motivations for doing them."

"That does not make you not accountable for what happened." Hornet said darkly.

Roen stared at Natalie. "Do you regret anything?"

"I regret not burning those papers when I was given them." Natalie turned her gaze back to Roen, her voice cold. "If I had, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"That will do, Ser Mcbeef." Crofte turned to her companion, giving her a look of warning.

"So you do not regret anything else." Roen persisted. She had to know.

"Ye did nae bother to think about yer actions an' the effects they would have on others. Miss McBeef. Don' ferget tha'."

Crofte raised her voice along with everyone else. "The actions of my companion are in the past now. I understand the pain they have caused and that such things will not be so easily healed. That is not the reason she is here now. I brought her so that Ser Deneith may see the wisdom of my previous council."

Natalie only spared Crofte a moment’s glance before she continued. "I was blackmailed, with Roen's life as hostage. And you Gharen, you willingly went along with my plan. Do I regret hiring Askier to do it, he and that madman of his? Yes." She gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing at Gharen. “But I'm not prescient, I did the best I could with what I had and I don't regret that one gods damn bit."

Natalie then spun back to Roen, pointing a finger at her. "You're alive! Instead of dying as a pawn in some political game."

A flash of anger heated her cheeks. Roen’s own voice shook, as she stepped around Gharen onto the bridge. "So you would do that again. Trade his life, for mine."

"He traded his life,” Natalie retorted. "Not me. He could have walked away from that pier.”

Roen shook her head, her fist clenched by her side. “No. You. You made him the offer. You knew he would take it! Of course he would!”

"The Syndicate made me an offer." Natalie’s countenance remained steadfast and unmoved. “Of course, I did.”

Roen shook her head. "You were there. You were there when I got him back. You... you saw how I was. You comforted me!" She felt herself shaking. “How could you possibly think that I could simply continue?" Her face twisted with bitterness, all the anger she bore the Miqo’te woman rising to the fore. "I trusted you. Not with just my life, with everything."

Natalie slowly nodded. "And I bought your life... with that trust." She met Roen’s gaze without flinching. "I consider it well spent."

"Are you waiting for a 'Thank you', McBeef?" Hornet sneered as she stepped up behind the two Sultansworns on the bridge, one hand resting around her axe that hung behind her..

"No. It was a selfish act." Natalie glanced over her shoulder, although not seemingly alarmed by the Roegadyn’s approach.

"You bought it with suffering. And my trust and..." Roen felt a tear escape her eyes unbidden and hated herself for it. She stormed onto the bridge and approached the Miqo’te Sworn, her stride quick and fueled with fury.

Natalie stiffened. "I couldn't let them kill you Roen. … I just couldn’t.”

Roen stopped a fulm width from her, her stare full of indignation and shame.  "Do you know... what he did to me?" She let out a guttural whisper. "There are days... I wish … I wish I had died. That I do not have this weight upon my chest. This dread looming over me. This … hatred… for man already dead.”

"Feel free to hate me instead then." Natalie met her gaze and did not look away. "If that will help. Gods know I deserve it.”

Roen stepped back once, a trembling hand rising to her forehead. Too much emotions were rising all at once. She did not want this.

"An still, ye lack humility," Gharen growled, also stepping onto the roped bridge.

"I didn't come here for forgiveness!" Natalie looked past Roen to Gharen. "I came to give her the truth."

Crofte came to stand between Natalie and Roen, the woman’s green eyes peering into the heavy hood to seek Roen’s. “Ser Deneith,” she said quietly. “She may not know, but I do. Please, you do not need to do this.”

Roen looked back up, but her eyes inevitably were drawn back to Natalie. “I clung onto life. To survive. To return to those I loved. You were one of them. But it is because of you that I was on that boat. And possibly would have returned to a dead brother."

"All true,” Natalie said grimly.

"You should have let them kill me,” Roen hissed.

"I couldn't." Natalie shook her head. "No more than Gharen could walk off that pier."

“Do not compare yourself to--” She stopped, then snarled, “You are not my family. You are no longer my sister!”

"Enough. Gharen!" Hornet stepped up behind Crofte, calling out.

Natalie finally broke her gaze and looked away, releasing a shuddering breath. “Aye," she said softly, "I’m not.” She frowned. “I am just a messenger.”

Gharen stepped up behind Roen and placed his hand on her shaking shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"No, I am the messenger,” Crofte insisted. “Ser Deneith, please. I know your ire burns, but you must focus." She stepped closer to Roen. "Look at me, please." She bent slightly to peer into the fall of the heavy hood. "Look... at... me.”

When Roen’s eyes finally rose to meet Crofte's, they were glistening and bloodshot. “You remember what I told you in Vesper Bay? I ordered her to be here with me to prove that point." She gave a sidelong glance to Natalie who had now turned her back on them to look out over the ropes. "There is a reason she is wearing those colors this day. You may not like it. I'm not even sure I do. But the Captain has returned her status to the Order."

When Roen stared at Crofte with some disbelief, the Sworn continued. "She provided much needed assistance to the people of Ul'dah during a crisis. I know that means nothing here, and I do not expect it to carry weight. But title has once again changed. Do you understand?"

"Aye, an t'was my sister an' I tha' assisted in getting th' device that removed th' collar from yer neck." Gharen did not remove his hands from Roen’s shoulder, as if to give her support, even as he spoke to Crofte.

"I figured as much. You all know I was there by now." The Highlander turned her attention back to Roen. "Please, Ser Deneith... you must allow the system to work. I can clear you of these charges, officially. No more hiding, no more lurking in shadows. No more cover ups."

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 07-27-2014

Roen's anger had begun to slowly ebb away as she focused on what Crofte was saying. Those were the very hopes she had harbored since she had spoken to the Sworn last, and now Crofte was giving them voice. But that was when Natalie spun around again, after tossing her beret off the bridge into the gully.

"The fuck do you want from me, Roen. My life? Take it," she growled. “An apology? Sure. I can whip one up in no time at a--"

Roen had no time to react as Gharen stepped up and popped Natalie on the nose. The Miqo’te staggered and fell back against the ropes, her nose bleeding.

Natalie rubbed at her nose and laughed. “Is this what you want Roen? For me to feel what you felt?” She rose again to her feet. “Keep going if that's the case."

“Enough!” Hornet roared. "Gharen, Roen, go home."

"Please!" Crofte stepped in front of Natalie, putting herself between the Miqo’te and the rest.

Roen heard none of their pleas. She stepped up next to Gharen, a hand going her brother’s arm to stay any further violence. "No. I do not want your blood on anyone's hands. Why do you think I gave those papers to Crofte? She said she could help more than just me."

Natalie blinked surprised, looking from Roen to the Highlander Sworn. “Crofte…? Who else?”

Roen did not wait for Crofte to answer as she stepped closer to Natalie, nearly shoving past the Sultansworn in her way. “What I want is some regret in your eyes. Some acknowledgement of the mistake you made. That you betrayed EVERYTHING I gave you. My love. My trust. My faith in you. You destroyed all of that.”

Natalie blinked, then closed her eyes. "That's why I can't regret. So much was sacrificed. So much." She hung her head low. "And for what? If I regret it all... it means all that, gone." Her voice lowered to a whisper. “For a mistake." She was trembling. “And I can’t say that. I can’t say everything was destroyed… for nothing.”

Seeing Natalie’s sorrow only fueled hers more. “A part of me died on that boat. Do you know that?” Roen could not stop, and neither did her tears for all of her pain. “Do you know how... how Askier screamed? The pain he was in." She felt herself starting to shake again.

"And yet, and yet I asked him to live," Roen continued. She swallowed, trying to dismiss the constriction in her throat as her voice rose. “And every time he screamed, I knew ... I knew I was not alone on that boat. Do you know what that is like?!”  She screamed with all her rage at Natalie, her eyes wide, her voice hoarse. “To be both tormented and relieved by someone else’s agony??”

"Ser Deneith... Please!" Crofte pleaded.

Natalie met her eyes, darkness creeping into her green Miqo’te gaze. "I can't even imagine." She uttered slowly shaking her head. "That's why... I have to believe it was for something. That some good came of it. Otherwise it's... it's too much."

Hornet came up behind Roen and put a hand on her shoulder, but in reliving her shame and guilt, the unexpected touch made her flinch. She spun away, stepping to grip the ropes on the other side of the bridge. She stared at her white knuckles.

"Roen..." Natalie called out from behind her. “Did Crofte tell you those papers would help Kage.... and myself?"

"This meeting should be ended." Hornet growled.

"Natalie. Enough with that for now." Crofte ordered.

"My sister will not be returning te Ul'dah, yers is a city that does nae wish te be saved.” Gharen rumbled.

"I need to know." Natalie was insistent. “Roen. Who did Crofte tell you the papers would help?”

Roen felt her breathes come and go, and with each exhale her grip on the ropes loosened just a little. She had come here to meet with Crofte with hope. She was trying hard to remember it now.

“Who Roen?”

She straightened as she released the ropes, taking another long inhale of the sea air. She turned when she felt that she had regained some composure even though her voice still sounded ragged. “She hoped it would clear all those that it damned." She lifted her eyes towards the Highlander Sworn. "Is that still your hope... Ser Crofte...?"

"Aye, it is, and always has been."

Natalie nearly staggered. "You risked yourself..." she murmured, turning away. “For…”

"You shut up." Hornet warned.

"I need to go,” Natalie choked out as she shoved past Hornet. Roen did not notice when Hornet turned as well and followed her off the bridge.

Ser Crofte stepped forward, her voice soft and her gaze imploring. "You need not relive those events every night."

"When does it go away...?"

"When you chose to allow it, Ser Deneith." The Highlander Sworn bowed her head slightly, locking gaze with her. "For three years... three years I was forced to serve. All manner of... clients. If I refused, I suffered close to the same fate as you."

Roen blinked, staring at the woman.

"You must not allow it to change you," Crofte said softly. "It is over. Do you understand? It is over, and you survived. Do not make your survival count for naught..." She inhaled. “If you need to talk about it more, I will listen. But that is not why I am here tonight... you understand that?"

Roen bowed her head and nodded. "How certain are you...?" Quiet words that held but mere threads of hope, they emerged quietly from beneath the hood. "That you can clear me of these charges."

"More certain every day.”

"If you do not bring me in... is what Natalie said true? There will be others?"

Crofte swallowed, her brows furrowing. "Aye, she speaks true. My... our hands have been forced. To my chagrin, the Captain has made us partners in this matter now. Though I retain rank over Ser Mcbeef. We need your testimony as well, of course, the accused has the right to speak her own defense... but you cannot do so here. The accusations of this man, Cicero. They were used to damn all three of you. If we can acquit you, the other two must be as well by association, as he accused all three for the incident at the mines." She glanced to Gharen who was now glaring at her before she continued. "The only matter I am unsure of is that of your brother."

"I do nae care how Ul'dah regards me Miss Crofte.” Gharen crossed his arms, stepping up close behind Roen. “An' regardless o' how yer captain thinks I don' think it wise fer my sister te turn herself in. Th' sworn have shown themselves te be corruptible in th' face o' th' syndicate before."

Roen stared off the bridge to the ravine below, her thoughts whirling. She had been pondering these possibilities for many nights now. “If... I am acquitted... then perhaps all implicated would be as well. Including my brother. Lilliana tracked us all, when I was meeting with the Resistance. She said she had no interest in arresting any of them."

“Then you have even more to hope for, aye?" Crofte sounded hopeful, looking from Gharen to Roen.

A long silence fell between them. A gust of wind tossed her cloak this way and that about her as Roen stood stalk-still, her thoughts lost to possibilities. She had not shared with Gharen what she had been pondering, for she knew he would not like it. And despite the angry exchange with Natalie, it had not wavered the decision Roen silently made before arriving at the lighthouse.

"As I have always said..." Crofte broke the silence. "You have time to consider the options."

"But next time it may not be you."

"Aye, and I would prefer this be resolved tonight... this is not my choice to make."

Roen bowed her head and she could feel Gharen’s eyes upon her even without looking up. She spoke quietly. “Gharen. I know you do not want me doing this.” She turned and drew her hood back, looking at him fully. “I do not want to be a fugitive. I do not want you to be a fugitive."

"Yer right I don'." He said quietly to her, his jaw set. He casted a look towards Crofte who was retreating off the bridge. "I believe ye te be an honorable woman an tha' ye'll hold te yer word.”

The Sultansworn turned at the end of the bridge just as she watched Hornet return, passing her. "Ser Wolfsong, my life is forfeit if I do otherwise."

"More'n yer life is forfeit if'n ye fail. Ul'dah is a city tha' does nae with te be saved, an if'n they wish te regard me as a terrorist the'll see jus' what kind o' a holy terror I can be if'n ye fail.”

“Gharen,” Roen looked up at her brother, her eyes lucid and focused, having shed the fury and the shame that raged in them before. She waited until Gharen turned his eyes back to her, and she sensed his reluctance. As if he knew what she was going to say. And he did not want to hear it.

She said it anyway. “I am turning myself in.”

RE: Second Hand Faith - Roen - 07-28-2014

"No." Hornet said immediately, staring at her. "Roen..."

Roen continued to stare at Gharen as if to press her point. “I do not want to be a fugitive. I do not want you to be a fugitive.” She reiterated, this time, there was determination that fueled her words. “I do not want Kage to be a Blade. I do not want them hunting you or Hornet to get to me.”

"Goin' with them will put ye in close te' th' syndicate lass.” Gharen met her gaze, his jaw drawn tight.

"They wanted you, Gharen. Not me."

"Aye, an used ye te get te me."

"Then you need to make certain that, that does not happen again." Roen frowned. "I cannot let this be for naught." She glanced over her shoulder towards Ser Crofte, and Natalie who had now come to join her. “I need him cleared.”

"Roen… that will be complicated." Natalie chimed in, astonishment clear in her expression. “Far more complicated than your own case.”

"Complicated, yes, but not impossible, Ser Mcbeef.” Crofte nodded to Roen then to Natalie. “We must try."

“Very well,” Natalie narrowed her eyes. “I will take Gharen’s case.” When she saw all eyes turned to her, the Miqo’te Sworn continued, not wavering. “Ser Crofte can focus on Roen’s case, while I work to clear Gharen. One of the strongest charges against Roen is consorting with a terrorist. If Gharen can be cleared, Roen’s case might go a lot easier.”

“Besides…” Natalie added under her breath. “Me working with Roen, is not a good idea.” She averted her eyes from those on the bridge.

Crofte nodded. "Aye, and you know more of the events personally than I." She looked back to Roen, breathing a sigh of relief. "Not only that, I will be spending time watching over our guest."

Roen turned to Hornet, spying the consternation on the taller woman’s face. "Please do not tell me I am making a mistake."

"Roen…” Hornet struggled for a response. "I... I'll take care of him," was all she managed.

Roen exhaled and nodded. “Aye.”

"Every part o' me says this is a bad idea."

"I know.” Roen found herself strangely calmer by the minute. She had something to focus on now. Clearing herself and her brother. It was a purpose. “But I feel it is something I need to do. Too many. Too many have been hurt because of this. I need to put an end to it. I will not have it haunt me or anyone else for the rest of our lives."

"It's always been your decision Roen,” Hornet said softly. She slipped down to her knees, embracing her tight.

"You will take care of him, aye?" Roen said quietly to Hornet.

"I promise." Hornet nodded as she rose again. "If they let me, I'll visit."  

Roen searched Gharen’s eyes. "I am going to put my fate in their hands. No matter what the decision, Gharen. Do not let them use me to get you."

Gharen’s neck muscles tightened slightly. "I cannae promise that, an' ye know it."

She frowned, her eyes locking onto his. "Please." She pleaded. “Promise.”

The siblings looked to each other in a silent struggle, before he exhaled and took her in his arms. "Ye win. We'll see what Nymeia has in store fer us."

Roen rested her cheek against his chest. "Aye."

She couldn't see Gharen's scowl. She heard it in his voice. "Lets get this o'er with 'fore I change my mind and do somethin' rash."

RE: Second Hand Faith - McBeefâ„¢ - 07-28-2014

Natalie sighed and arranged the papers on her table for the umpteenth time. The Bismark had a beautiful view, but the sea breezes made a mockery of her attempts to keep things organized. She had stolen the salt shakers from every table within reach, and it was barely enough to keep the papers from flapping out into the ocean with every gust. Satisfied that, for the moment, the papers would behave, she yawns, stretching out the last of the discomfort from the airship ride. Nibbling on a scone and sipping on a bowl of coffee she scans the area, Gharen should be here any moment… if he decided to actually show.

Gharen walked onto the balcony of the Bismarck the weather was nice this day, given the occasional gust of coastal winds. He saw Natalie across the way looking bored. Grimacing as he saw her, he walked over to the woman’s table and took note at the absurd sight of a dozen or so salt shakers on the table. “Expect’n te be attacked by some sort o’ sea slug?” he mused, though he didn’t smile. He placed his hand on the back of the chair opposite of Natalie though he did not sit down right away as he regarded her.

She blinks, “ah, Gharen,” she scratches the back of her head, “No it’s these damnable winds.” She frowns and shakes a fist at the heavens, “Why couldn’t they have built a city someplace proper, where the elements cooperate.” She notices him standing there, “Please, sit sit.” She smirks, “If I wanted to harm you there’d be easier ways.” Showing her empty hands, “Today I come in peace for once.”

Gharen pulls out the seat and sits down at the table, he is wearing the same white cotton and leather attire he was the day they met on the pier, and does not appear to be armed as well. He plants both of his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together in front of him, “So what did ye wish te speak about?”

Natalie waves down a server, who places coffee and pastries in front of Gharen. “Let’s do the pleasantries first, such as they are” She chuckles, “Hopefully you drink coffee.” She takes a sip of her own, “To start with Roen is comfortable, safe and secure in the headquarters of our order.” She forces a smile, “Though I haven’t visited her myself, I wouldn’t want to ruin her vacation. Kage and Crofte have assured me of it though.” She leans back, and arranges her papers once more, “Hopefully that will put your mind, even if only slightly, at ease.”

Gharen picked up the cup and took a drink of the freshly brewed coffee, setting it back down he nodded, “Alrigh’.” He decided it better to keep his mouth shut about how he felt about Ul’dah in general these days, and how he truly felt about Roen being incarcerated in the lion’s den regardless of where she was in the city. He looked over the pastries but declined to partake of any. “I’d say ye go see her, regardless how either o’ ye feel. Cannae avoid one another ferever, an’ worst case, ye provoke her inte pop’n ye one, tis a therapeutic feelin’, I can attest te tha’.”

Natalie snorts and rubs her nose, still sore despite the conjured healing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who couldn’t smell for three days.” She chuckles, “But you may be right. Worst case scenario is only yet another trip to the clinic.” She exhales, “Well, shall we get to business then? I wish to speak of you Gharen Wolfsong.” Natalie steeples her fingers, “If I’m to represent you effectively, and get the syndicate off your back I’ll need the truth.” She leans back, “If you truly are innocent of what is claimed, then as they say, it shall set you free.”

He swung an arm over the back of chair. “I dinnae take ye te be such a fragile flower te need a clinic o’er what amounted te a love tap.” This time there was a grin behind the statement. “Ask away Miss Mcbeef, I am an open book.” he said calmly. The last several moons played out quickly in his head as he regarded her for a moment. None of this had sat with him very well, to begin with, but in the end it had been Roen’s decision, not his, and he was willing to go with on this regardless of how he felt about it.

“A love tap?,” she chuckles, “Remind me never to get in a relationship with a Highlander.” Natalie drains her cup before inking her pen, “Let’s start at the beginning then. When we met at the Nanawa mines, you and your compatriots had a cerulean core in your possession. How did you acquire it?”

He grins at her statement and almost retorts, but responds to her question matter of factly. “Don’ rightly know. I was told we were te be wait’n fer one Aylard Greyarm, who’s since passed. When I was asked if’n I wanted te know what th’ cargo was, I opted te nae know at all, figured th’ less people tha’ knew th’ better.” He pauses for a moment while she scribbles.

“I’d gone back te th’ site after th’ scuffle an’ blast, found fresh footprints lead’n up te th’ site tha’d have fit a Hyur or Miqote, mov’n light an’ quick toward th’ cargo. Though th’ blast an th’ miners try’n te put out th’ fires, wiped out th’ prints in the immediate area, I’d found prints leav’n this time they were slowed weighed down by somethin’ heavy. Dinnae know what was in th’ cargo till Roen came look’n fer me days later.”

Natalie taps her pen on the table for a moment as a hostess comes by and refills her glass. “You knew it was probably a dangerous cargo though… hence your precaution of keeping the contents secret. You also seemed prepared for combat when we arrived. Who were you worried about attacking you? Flames? Brass Blades?” She stirs a small amount of cream in, before taking a sip, “Or someone else?”

He shakes his head a little, “No one specific at th’ time, though should have been look’n out fer th’ empire, as I understand it, a fella named Cicero, or th’ rose as he was callin’ himself, was th’ one tha’ took th’ core an’ caused th’ explosion.” He pauses. “Aylard was killed by a garlean agent an’ th’ charmin’ fellow ye lobbed off’a th’ stairs was killed soon after.”

She nods, “I see…” as she writes some notes. “Your friend tried to kill me first, so I don’t feel terribly guilty about throwing him off that bridge.” She frowns, “Though I didn’t wish his death, it seemed his daughter was with him there at the mines. This would doesn’t need any more orphans.” Sighing and rubbing her forehead for a moment she gathers her thoughts, “So you were given this Cargo, you knew transporting it would be a dangerous task, but you were more worried about the Empire than Ul’dah?” She tilts her head, “In other words, at the time you had no knowledge that your actions could have been in violation of Ul’dah laws?”

Shakes his head again. “None. Granted, anythin’ done under th’ cover o’ night is likely somethin’ ye want kept from th’ pryin’ eyes o’ authorities. Given tha’ th’ ultimate goal at th’ time was te return te Gyr Abania, I think it’s safe te assume th’ core was goin’ te be used against th’ empire. While I cannae say Ul’dah has nae exactly been a good home fer Ala Mhigans, certainly wouldn’t do well te go an use tha’ kind o’ hardware on th’ one place that’s been even mildly acceptin’.” He plants his chin in the palm of his hand with his elbow resting on the table as he watches her reaction.

Natalie crosses her arms and closes her eyes, she sits and thinks for a moment before responding with a grin. “I can work with this…” she takes a sip of her coffee, “The brave freedom fighter and hater of Garleans, Gharen Wolfsong, tricked into taking on an illegal core.” She nods, “His only crime was being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, left by despicable agents of Garlemald to take the fall for their own nefarious acts of subterfuge.” She leans back, “So, think they’ll buy it?”

He thinks for a moment. “Mayhaps, but I was nae tricked inte bein’ there tha’ night.” My Grandmother was an important figure in th’ early days o’ th’ resistance fer Ala Mhigo. Or so I was told. Fer tha’ my mother who was in hidin’ at th’ time was found an’ killed, along with’ th’ rest o’ Kayle an’ I’s family.” He gives her a moment to let that sink in. “Aylard was hop’n tha’ a survivor from th’ old Noble bloodlines would be able te rally th’ resistance, an bolster th’ ranks. Ultimately I jus’ wanted te learn more about th’ family I ne’er got te know.”

Natalie tilts her head, “If you knew exactly what was going on that night, the nature of the cargo to be transported, and its origin, would you have still gone along with it?” She holds up a hand, “You weren’t lied to, but you also weren’t told the whole story. Your patriotism and interest in your family was used to blind you to the truth of what you were doing. I’d call that trickery.”

He regards the smaller woman for a moment as he takes a breath. “Mayhaps. But I did know th’ cargo was likely goin’ te be illegal. An’ admittedly if I had known exactly what it was, an how it was procured, I’d have had issues if Innocents were harmed in so doin’ but if nae? I’d likely have still been there. Remove’n th empire from Eorzea’s doorstep would nae only help my people. But tha’ o’ Ul’dah an her allies.” He adjusts his weight in his seat. “As much as I want te see my sister cleared o’ charges I won’ sugarcoat things or lie about my actions te do it. I don’ see what she or I have done te have ever been against th’ interests o’ th’ people o’ Ul’dah.”

Natalie sighs, “I think what we have here is a cultural gap. What you just said would sound ridiculous to any citizen of the city.” She looks off into the sea, “How to explain it… I’m sure you’ll agree that a cerulean core is an item of great value. The core that was stolen might have gone on to be the power source of an airship, or the engine on one of Ul’dah’s mining trains. It represents a huge investment, taking vast amounts of resources, manpower, and expertise to create. In other word, it was very expensive.” She takes a coin from her purse and places it on the table, “Despite Nanamo’s efforts refugees die every day outside the wall, they die because they lack coin. When people say coin is the lifeblood of Ul’dah, it is no exaggeration, everything in the city is bought with it, including life itself. The problem of the refugees is simply a lack of coin, and thus, they die.” She leans back, and spins the coin on the tabletop, “Even if no one was directly hurt, in Ul’dah we know better than anyone the power of money. That money was taken from someone, somewhere, possibly even from the refugees that crowd the walls. The idea that something so valuable could be taken without some harm being done, would seem hopelessly naive to us.”

“I may live in th’ wilds Miss Mcbeef, but I am no fool. I lived in those refugee camps and in th’ cave’s o’ little Ala Mhigo fer twelve cycles.” He reaches to the collar of his tunic and pulls it down revealing what appears to be deep scars and burns. He lets her take that in for a moment before he lets go “I’ve experienced what Ul’dah has done te my people first hand. Mayhaps there is a cultural gap, but what will cost Uldah more in’ th’ long run? A stolen ceruleum core? or th’ refugees that flood inte th’ city even te this day. Where will Ul’dah’s wealth be when th’ empire is th’ one knockin’ on th’ gates Miss Mcbeef? I understand tha’ someone’s pocket book is lighter as a result but ye’ll have te forgive my simple view o’ th’ world.”

Natalie chuckles, “I think you took my words the wrong way. I am not even saying you’re wrong, there is much you say that I agree with.” She pockets the coin, “It is not me who needs to be convinced however. You live close to the conflict, it affects you, and you understand the threat that Garlemald still poses.” She shrugs, “But to most in the city, the war is over, we’ve finally gotten our much deserved peace, time to to rebuild, and profit in the process. To those people, many of whom are in power, using a cerulean core in such a way is at best a waste of resources on a reckless gamble, resources that could be spent better elsewhere.” She narrows her eyes, “At worse it would be the provocation that would renew hostilities with Garlemald, and if those people in power view it in such a way, things would go very badly for you, and anyone involved in it, including your sister.” She sighs, “I understand the plight of your people Gharen, but Ul’dah is not under occupation, we’ve fought this war for decades, and we finally have respite. It may be cowardly of us, but the last thing the city wants is a renewal of hostilities.”

He promptly gives his response “Did tha’ stolen core nae get turned inte a weapon te be used against Ul’dah -by- garleans? An’ more recently collared citizens turned against th’ city, it’s wells poisoned? Hostilities have ne’er subsided Miss Mcbeef, Ul’dah is nae at peace much as th’ rich would like te believe. Th’ war might be o’er but yer city is still in their sights.” He shakes his head slightly. “I understand th’ opposin’ viewpoint, but tis a fallacy at best a lie told te make th’ people feel safer at night.” He stops for a moment. “Evil will do as it pleases, as long as good men an’ women do nothin’.”

Natalie groans, “Gharen, as I said, I’m not the one you have to convince. I’m just trying to let you know how your words will be taken. Specifically, how they will be taken by those who will decide the fate of you, and your sister.” She taps the scars on her own face, “I know as well as you that the war isn’t over, but convincing people to spend coin and blood on a enemy that seems defeated is political suicide in the city.” She gestures to the papers on the table, “We need a story that will convince those people, your words, while passionate, are wasted on those whose minds are already made up.”

He nods. “As I said I understand how they will be taken, these are simply th’ truth’s behind th’ matter. But enough debate then. What do ye propose then Miss Mcbeef?”

“You don’t wish to lie, fair enough, but we also don’t need to tell them the whole truth.” She taps her fingers on the table, “We’ll keep all the business with the Garleans, your lack of knowledge of the cargo.” She sighs, “But can we keep out the fact that, even if you’d have known, you would have done it anyway?”

He gives it a moment of thought. “Alrigh’.” The puts both elbows back on the table and interlaces his fingers before him. “Anythin’ else I should keep te myself?”

Natalie nods, “Thank you,” before chuckling. “I don’t know, but I’ll tell you if I think of anything.” She grins, “But I think instead there are things we can add to the account. Like that Castrum raid I heard you were involved with. Technically it has nothing to do with the core, but as the city gives a sigh of relief after Jin’li’s attacks, it would be very unpopular for the Syndicate to demonize one of its saviors.” She re-inks her pen and poises it over a fresh page, “What can you tell me of the event?”

Gharen points to seat just a couple of tables over. “I was contacted by Osric Melkire right o’er there, once he got my attention he passed notes indicating tha’ he’d like my help. Well, he helped locate Roen in th’ first place.” He gives Natalie a icy look for a heartbeat and continues. “So how could I refuse? I spoke with Askier at th’ red wings headquarters an’ miraculously dinnae kill him by th’ time I left.” He takes a deep breath. “Few suns later Roen, Delial an’ I along with others were dressed in stolen Garlean uniforms an entered castrum occidens, we were discovered, some fight’n broke out I held th’ rear guard while others retrieved th’ tool required.” Taking a breath he continues to recount the events afterward. “We gathered in Drybone where we encountered th’ white haired Miqote with th’ gunblade Jin’li, Some folks were wounded, Roen took te healin, I uncovered Crofte there as well. After a short exchange I let her go after lettin’ her know, quietly tha’ we had th’ tool.”

Natalie nods, “Gharen, feeling remorse at how he had unknowingly wronged Ul’dah set off to redeem himself in it’s moment of crisis. At great risk, and at no profit to himself he set off on a daring raid to free Ul’dah’s defenders of their collars.” She grins and writes, “Perhaps I could have Ser Crofte give a tear filled speech describing her experience under Jin’li’s yoke. I think that would be quite moving.”

He cocks an eyebrow at just how ridiculous what Natalie just said sounds. “..Aye, if’n ye think so. Don’ expect me te be turn’n on th’ water works though.” He wraps his hands around the somewhat still warm cup of coffee. “Was there anythin’ else ye’d like te cover?” Gharen downs the remainder of his coffee, and sets the cup down, again interlacing his fingers in front of him on the table.

Natalie laughs, “No no, as you’ve made quite clear, this will have to be managed without your presence at the city. Either way your tears probably wouldn’t help this case.” She takes a sip of her coffee, “I’m thinking we’ll go more of the misguided yet noble savage angle. Should sit well with the audience. You couldn’t help that you aren’t as wise and all knowing as the great and civilized merchants of the city.” She winks at him, “stroking the ego of the Syndicate generally works wonders.” Natalie ponders his question for a moment, “Nothing that directly comes to mind… but is there anything you’d like to add?” She chuckles, “Anything helpful I should say. I’m sure a message to the syndicate saying “Go fuck yourselves.” Is something you’d enjoy, though I doubt it would help your case.”

Again the eyebrow gets raised he was fairly certain she’d just managed to insult him on the sly. He opted not to take the bait if that’s what it was. He shakes his head slightly. “Nothin’ tha’ I can think o’ tha’ pertains te Ul’dah. Far as th’ Syndicate is concerned I figure if they decide te toy with my family again I may nae be quite so passive in my response te them. But those are jus’ -what if’s- right now.” He offers Natalie a slight grin. “Give my regards te Miss Crofte aye?”

She nods, and begins gathering up her papers, “I will… but just warning you, she seems quite infatuated with another gentleman at the moment. If that’s what you’re after.” She chuckles, “Though you seem the type who wouldn’t admit it if you were.” As she leaves a few coins on the table, “I’ll let you know if I have any further questions, and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have anything to add.” She grins, “For example that last threat of violence against the Syndicate would probably not fall into the ‘helpful’ category.”

“Regard’n’ Miss Crofte, no intentions there Miss Mcbeef.” He stands up as well and pushes his chair in. “An I would ne’er levy threats o’ bodily harm against such upstand’n citizenry as th’ Syndicate.” He offered her a wry grin that clearly outlined the sarcasm in his tone. “Stay safe Miss Mcbeef, an until we next meet.”

She laughs, “I’ll do my best, and thank you Gharen.” She places the papers into a satchel, “This could help more than you know. Until next time.” She walks off towards the direction of the airship docks.