12-09-2013, 09:27 PM
(This is a little sketch I wrote to help establish C'kayah's personality. Plus it was just fun. Hope you enjoy it!)
The flute was buried under a slim volume entitled "Intrigues of the House Haillenarte, Sixth Astral Age". The Miqo'te C'kayah, dressed for the heat in loose white linen, turned the book over in his hands while the merchant pattered on about Ishgardian history.
"…fascinating account of the excesses of the daughter of Lord Einagh, who was renowned for her appetites and once caused the death of the Overlord Karainik's favorite chocobo…"
C'kayah nodded, leafing idly through the pages. It was exactly the sort of book he preferred: small enough to carry, lividly decadent, and desperately esoteric. A decade and a half away from his tribal sept was enough to put an educated veneer over his barbarian childhood, but vanity prevented the sort of dedicated study that would give him a rounded education.
"Good, good", he said. "I'll give you ten gil for it."
The merchant laughed, his comically small red hat wobbling precariously on his head. "Ten? Why the tale of Lady Trinarises downfall alone is worth at least twice that much!"
"What's this?", the Miqo'te interrupted, touching the little flute. It was tarnished silver, finely engraved, and completely out of place among the stall's books.
The merchant narrowed his eyes in puzzlement, momentarily stopped short before habit took over and he continued. "That? Why, it is a magical toy! The flute of Balsheerba! Do you not know the story?"
C'kayah shook his head, smiling. The merchant's story was sure to be a fabrication, of course, but entertaining enough to overcome that shortcoming.
"You know of the Eleven, don't you? No? It's an old story, told to children. For each animal kind - rats, bats, squirrels, cats - there are eleven perfect individuals having great wisdom and skill. They are the ruling council for that kind, and they hold great influence over them all."
C'kayah opened his mouth to interject, but the merchant simply walked roughshod over the interruption.Â
"Yes, yes. Always eleven there are. Don't ask me why, it's magic, of course! But this flute, you see… Sultan Balsheerba wanted to drive out the birds which threatened to despoil Ul'dah during his time. You would not know it, this was before you were born, and there are few who know the tale. The birds during his reign grew jealous of the beauty and vanity of Ul'dan women, and so they mounted an invasion of the city. Yes, yes, it's all true! Of course it is!
C'kayah closed his mount and smiled, while the merchant continued.
"…Now, as I was saying, the Sultan Balsheerba was under tremendous pressure to do something about it, so he offered a reward - no, I don't know what he offered, that's beside the point sir! The reward was to inspire, that was all. And inspire it did, for the great Lalafell toymaker Birin crafted a flute all carved over with cats. The song of this flute was so lovely that it swayed the eleven perfect cats, and they coordinated the defeat of the birds!"
C'kayah picked up the little flute, rubbing at its tarnished surface with his thumb. It was a pretty little thing, and there were cats embossed in its surface, which made him smile.
"It will look fine enough once I polish it, I think", he said.
"Polish? Yes! Of course! It is silver, you can see by the tarnish. Worth at least…"
"Eighty gil", the Miqo'te interjected, reaching for his belt pouch to count out the coin.
"…two hundred, and no less", said the merchant. "My own daughter loves this instrument, so I could not bear to give it up for any less."
C'kayah nodded appreciatively. "I can see why, with the care she has lavished on it. Why, it is so tarnished, I wouldn't believe any living hand has touched it for decades. One hundred."
"My poor daughter, she lost this very flute last week. It only tarnishes so much because it is consumed with regret over the loss of her hand. I could not possibly disappoint her for less than one eighty."
"From the looks of it", the Miqo'te retorted, "her only regret would be the possibility of you bringing it back. Yet, I think it would amuse a young friend of mine, so I might give you one hundred and forty for it, but you must throw in the book as well."
"You are a cruel man, who knows not the depths of a young girl's despair. If you did, you would understand why I could only begin to salve her loss with fineries costing far more than the one hundred and sixty I would accept for this - and that only because you are a regular customer!"
"A single piece of paste jewelry should please her more than this toy. Why, looking at it, I would be surprised if it played any notes at all. All the same, I like your stories, and so I will give you one hundred and fifty for it, along with the book."
The merchant shook his head in mock-disappointment. "You see the lows to which I must sink in order to maintain my family? A loss I will sell this at! A loss! It goes against all tenants of good business! But you, sir, are a good customer, and so I must sometimes take a loss to ensure your fickle loyalty. Fine. One fifty."
C'kayah counted the coins into the merchant's hand and then slipped the little flute into his pocket. Tucking the book under his arm, he made his way back up the crowded path. He sometimes carried little cargos for a stern man in Vesper Bay who's daughter delighted in little gifts of this sort. And in any case, the story was quite entertaining.
The flute was buried under a slim volume entitled "Intrigues of the House Haillenarte, Sixth Astral Age". The Miqo'te C'kayah, dressed for the heat in loose white linen, turned the book over in his hands while the merchant pattered on about Ishgardian history.
"…fascinating account of the excesses of the daughter of Lord Einagh, who was renowned for her appetites and once caused the death of the Overlord Karainik's favorite chocobo…"
C'kayah nodded, leafing idly through the pages. It was exactly the sort of book he preferred: small enough to carry, lividly decadent, and desperately esoteric. A decade and a half away from his tribal sept was enough to put an educated veneer over his barbarian childhood, but vanity prevented the sort of dedicated study that would give him a rounded education.
"Good, good", he said. "I'll give you ten gil for it."
The merchant laughed, his comically small red hat wobbling precariously on his head. "Ten? Why the tale of Lady Trinarises downfall alone is worth at least twice that much!"
"What's this?", the Miqo'te interrupted, touching the little flute. It was tarnished silver, finely engraved, and completely out of place among the stall's books.
The merchant narrowed his eyes in puzzlement, momentarily stopped short before habit took over and he continued. "That? Why, it is a magical toy! The flute of Balsheerba! Do you not know the story?"
C'kayah shook his head, smiling. The merchant's story was sure to be a fabrication, of course, but entertaining enough to overcome that shortcoming.
"You know of the Eleven, don't you? No? It's an old story, told to children. For each animal kind - rats, bats, squirrels, cats - there are eleven perfect individuals having great wisdom and skill. They are the ruling council for that kind, and they hold great influence over them all."
C'kayah opened his mouth to interject, but the merchant simply walked roughshod over the interruption.Â
"Yes, yes. Always eleven there are. Don't ask me why, it's magic, of course! But this flute, you see… Sultan Balsheerba wanted to drive out the birds which threatened to despoil Ul'dah during his time. You would not know it, this was before you were born, and there are few who know the tale. The birds during his reign grew jealous of the beauty and vanity of Ul'dan women, and so they mounted an invasion of the city. Yes, yes, it's all true! Of course it is!
C'kayah closed his mount and smiled, while the merchant continued.
"…Now, as I was saying, the Sultan Balsheerba was under tremendous pressure to do something about it, so he offered a reward - no, I don't know what he offered, that's beside the point sir! The reward was to inspire, that was all. And inspire it did, for the great Lalafell toymaker Birin crafted a flute all carved over with cats. The song of this flute was so lovely that it swayed the eleven perfect cats, and they coordinated the defeat of the birds!"
C'kayah picked up the little flute, rubbing at its tarnished surface with his thumb. It was a pretty little thing, and there were cats embossed in its surface, which made him smile.
"It will look fine enough once I polish it, I think", he said.
"Polish? Yes! Of course! It is silver, you can see by the tarnish. Worth at least…"
"Eighty gil", the Miqo'te interjected, reaching for his belt pouch to count out the coin.
"…two hundred, and no less", said the merchant. "My own daughter loves this instrument, so I could not bear to give it up for any less."
C'kayah nodded appreciatively. "I can see why, with the care she has lavished on it. Why, it is so tarnished, I wouldn't believe any living hand has touched it for decades. One hundred."
"My poor daughter, she lost this very flute last week. It only tarnishes so much because it is consumed with regret over the loss of her hand. I could not possibly disappoint her for less than one eighty."
"From the looks of it", the Miqo'te retorted, "her only regret would be the possibility of you bringing it back. Yet, I think it would amuse a young friend of mine, so I might give you one hundred and forty for it, but you must throw in the book as well."
"You are a cruel man, who knows not the depths of a young girl's despair. If you did, you would understand why I could only begin to salve her loss with fineries costing far more than the one hundred and sixty I would accept for this - and that only because you are a regular customer!"
"A single piece of paste jewelry should please her more than this toy. Why, looking at it, I would be surprised if it played any notes at all. All the same, I like your stories, and so I will give you one hundred and fifty for it, along with the book."
The merchant shook his head in mock-disappointment. "You see the lows to which I must sink in order to maintain my family? A loss I will sell this at! A loss! It goes against all tenants of good business! But you, sir, are a good customer, and so I must sometimes take a loss to ensure your fickle loyalty. Fine. One fifty."
C'kayah counted the coins into the merchant's hand and then slipped the little flute into his pocket. Tucking the book under his arm, he made his way back up the crowded path. He sometimes carried little cargos for a stern man in Vesper Bay who's daughter delighted in little gifts of this sort. And in any case, the story was quite entertaining.