
Every adventurer has a soft-spot for someone in need. The thrill of battle is a strong attractor to many, but deep down a lot of the folks doing good work began doing so on account of someone else's well-being. That's how Warren Castille felt about life, anyway, and while he wasn't formally an adventurer he often found himself doing the sorts of things a proper adventurer would do. The Free Paladin was recognized by Ul'dah as one of their own, and when he wasn't standing watch over the Quicksand - something he had chosen to do less and less since recent events - he sought to repay his imagined debt by working "freelance" as security for the frequent coming-and-going trade caravans. It wasn't just duty that led him towards seeing them off and safely home, but duty would suffice.
Warren was already buckled into his armor and atop his chocobo, waiting by the city gates before the sun had begun to climb out of its bed. His life before settling in Thanalan had stuck the rigors of trailblazing deep in his bones and he wouldn't permit himself to waylay a group of traders now, especially not when they'd been suspecting an escort on the way to the Shroud. Warren knew full and well that Victory could catch them, but he wouldn't stand to let them down on that notion.
The ride itself was fairly straightforward. North out of Ul'dah to Black Brush, then east to Drybone and beyond. The collection would be stopping to peddle their wares in Highbridge and that was where Warren departed from them. The southern Shroud awaited them a few malms down the road and despite there being commotion with the local kobolds and rumors of Amal'jaa scouts there was enough of a presence by the Brass Blades for both their company and Warren to feel secure in breaking off.
It was only just getting into midday when Warren returned back to the rocky terrain of Central Thanalan. He'd debated stopping in Black Brush for a meal but decided against it; He could find pleasant company back home and wasn't so hungry that he couldn't wait. A rumbling stomach and the guarantee of fine food and finer companionship beat eating alone any day.
Victory trotted idly along the trail while Warren kept his attention spread out. He was half-keeping watch and half-letting his mind wander a bit. He was just considering stopping by the well-worn grounds the Grindstone occupied when his attention was diverted by a scream for help. Warren snapped back to the here-and-now and pulled Victory's reins in the direction of the noise.
Surely the sight would have been something a bit more terrifying to behold than what the poor lalafell was hoping for: Behind him nipped the claws and mandibles of a hostile insect, but bounding across the plains towards him was a massive chocobo clad in crested armor. The armored paladin atop it was likely an afterthought, if even a thought at all.
Warren was already buckled into his armor and atop his chocobo, waiting by the city gates before the sun had begun to climb out of its bed. His life before settling in Thanalan had stuck the rigors of trailblazing deep in his bones and he wouldn't permit himself to waylay a group of traders now, especially not when they'd been suspecting an escort on the way to the Shroud. Warren knew full and well that Victory could catch them, but he wouldn't stand to let them down on that notion.
The ride itself was fairly straightforward. North out of Ul'dah to Black Brush, then east to Drybone and beyond. The collection would be stopping to peddle their wares in Highbridge and that was where Warren departed from them. The southern Shroud awaited them a few malms down the road and despite there being commotion with the local kobolds and rumors of Amal'jaa scouts there was enough of a presence by the Brass Blades for both their company and Warren to feel secure in breaking off.
It was only just getting into midday when Warren returned back to the rocky terrain of Central Thanalan. He'd debated stopping in Black Brush for a meal but decided against it; He could find pleasant company back home and wasn't so hungry that he couldn't wait. A rumbling stomach and the guarantee of fine food and finer companionship beat eating alone any day.
Victory trotted idly along the trail while Warren kept his attention spread out. He was half-keeping watch and half-letting his mind wander a bit. He was just considering stopping by the well-worn grounds the Grindstone occupied when his attention was diverted by a scream for help. Warren snapped back to the here-and-now and pulled Victory's reins in the direction of the noise.
Surely the sight would have been something a bit more terrifying to behold than what the poor lalafell was hoping for: Behind him nipped the claws and mandibles of a hostile insect, but bounding across the plains towards him was a massive chocobo clad in crested armor. The armored paladin atop it was likely an afterthought, if even a thought at all.