It was always interesting. A small, white animal with wings that could not possibly support it's hovering in the air would reach into a bag and pull out a letter. How could they find where he was? How did they know -who- he was. And with never a word, the creature would drop off the letter and be on its way. Always peculiar.Â
Franz eyed the letter before him. There weren't many who knew the name, Renatus. Many of which, had either died or would never utter the name of the twisted experiment that had taken away everything of his old life, leaving only rage and confusion. Franz was a different man now. Or at least he thought he had been. The urges to end disagreements with death had been buried deep within him. He sought to use words before force. Had found some people he wanted to call friends, and had even found himself enjoying life in Eorzea at times.Â
It wasn't without its hardships. People had died. Connections lost. A past that could not be remembered in full. And yet, against his better judgement, he felt drawn to the letter. It begged to be read. He needed to know who had willingly sent a letter with that name on it. A name best forgotten.
He departed immediately from Gridania, leaving his possessions behind. There had been no run-ins with "her". And there was no reason to pack his spare clothes that stayed in the small cottage within the forest. Nobody had known about Kirche's house, and he planned to keep it that way. Should the forest decide to take it back, then the countless books filled with harmful studies of the void, summoning and lost cities would be better hidden away once more. The Company house was always just off the shore at Mist.Â
Stepping into the aether, Franz found himself at the Aetherite Plaza in Limsa Lominsa. From there, he would walk to the Drowning Wench and wait for this Trythian Oul to make himself known. Surely someone would be watching. Dressed in a simple white tabard with chainmail, trousers and cobalt sollerets, he waited. If the person took their time, then there was always a small meal and some ale. It was a pub, after all.
Franz eyed the letter before him. There weren't many who knew the name, Renatus. Many of which, had either died or would never utter the name of the twisted experiment that had taken away everything of his old life, leaving only rage and confusion. Franz was a different man now. Or at least he thought he had been. The urges to end disagreements with death had been buried deep within him. He sought to use words before force. Had found some people he wanted to call friends, and had even found himself enjoying life in Eorzea at times.Â
It wasn't without its hardships. People had died. Connections lost. A past that could not be remembered in full. And yet, against his better judgement, he felt drawn to the letter. It begged to be read. He needed to know who had willingly sent a letter with that name on it. A name best forgotten.
Quote:Shouldyou be interested, please appear at the top room at the Drowning Wench at your earliest availability
He departed immediately from Gridania, leaving his possessions behind. There had been no run-ins with "her". And there was no reason to pack his spare clothes that stayed in the small cottage within the forest. Nobody had known about Kirche's house, and he planned to keep it that way. Should the forest decide to take it back, then the countless books filled with harmful studies of the void, summoning and lost cities would be better hidden away once more. The Company house was always just off the shore at Mist.Â
Stepping into the aether, Franz found himself at the Aetherite Plaza in Limsa Lominsa. From there, he would walk to the Drowning Wench and wait for this Trythian Oul to make himself known. Surely someone would be watching. Dressed in a simple white tabard with chainmail, trousers and cobalt sollerets, he waited. If the person took their time, then there was always a small meal and some ale. It was a pub, after all.
