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Small island near Vylbrand.
Sand gave off a quiet crunching sound as a boot pressed into it. Several more foot-falls followed as two armored figures paced along the beach of a tiny island near Vylbrand. The beach was relatively deserted with nothing but debris laying on the sand. The ocean waves gently lapped on the shore to their right as a steep mountainside rose to their left – presenting them with a solid wall of rock. Qara Hotgo’s dark blue armor created a dark silhouette under the light of the setting sun while Maric Thornharte’s bright silver armor of the same high-mythrite design still had enough light to gleam.
Not far ahead of the duo were a band of Xaela reluctantly leading them toward a shoddy encampment. Their garb was tattered, and their forms lacked the typical male Xeala musculature. They were malnourished.
The group lead Maric and Qara right up to a Xaela man in chainmail that sat on a rock with a Xaela woman in his lap. For such an affectionate position, the Xaela woman did not look happy. Her head was bowed, and her gaze directed at the sand. However, the man raised his head and smirked at the two guests. His chainmail was better than what the others had, but it too was tattered and rusted.
Maric walked directly to the couple with a smile. His pure, white teeth gleamed as much as his armor. Even his slicked-back blonde hair seemed to glow a bit in the sun. "And you must be the Khan, miss...?" He asked; his question clearly directed at the girl.
The Xaela woman was young. She grew utterly surprised by Maric. Her head was locked in place as she seemed afraid to see the reaction of the man she was sitting on. The "Khan" himself just raised a brow. "What have you rock-heads brought me? A Hyur with bad vision, and a woman in armor? They do not look like captives."
Qara bowed in Othard style. "Qaratai Hotgo. I'm a warrior. This is Maric the Thornharte Horncutter. He just likes girls." She spoke softly.
The “Khan†placed an elbow on his leg, and rested his head on his fist. "I am Ghanar Khan. This is a new tribe of my making. Many of us come from the Haragin. What, Qaratai of the Hotgo and Maric the Thornharte Horncutter, have you come to me about?"
"We would like to negotiate the end of your violent raiding of the countryside, and offer you the alternative of a far more prosperous and more comfortable existence serving at our side as resident vigilantes.†Maric declared.
"The nation of Limsa Lominsa has a better way for those like you. Long ago, the big green ones called Roegadyn lived like us, but now have a way that is better for everyone. I want your tribe to join me. Become privateers, fight worthy enemies and get paid gil, food and anything you can steal from enemies. You will get what you need to make a ship too. A large sea boat. And you get all this for respecting only some laws." Qara clarified – her voice raising so the whole ‘tribe’ could hear.
"Basically, help the locals instead of fighting them, and they'll reward you with loot and more fulfilling enemies to fight. Overall, not a bad deal, wouldn't you agree?" Maric added with a hint of confident sincerity.
Ghanar shook his head. "We follow no laws. Let those who wish to stop us try." He spoke as he pet the girl on his lap. The whole of the Xaela group were watching and listening now.
Maric rolled his head. "And try they will. Lominsa has ships, fleets, and many, many soldiers that she'll send to crush you once she figures out what you're doing..." He lifted his hand to his eyes, and gazed out at the ocean. "That's where they'll set up broadsides...then they'll start raining cannon fire down on you... I think you'd rather not be blown up." He shrugged. "Besides, this is a bit boring, don't you think? Sitting on the beach, picking on farmers? It makes you soft, that's why your guards were subdued so easily.â€
“Your tribe follows -your- laws. You follow laws too. You can't sail the sea like Haragin from long ago because you have no ship. You can't attack settlements because the soldiers are too much for your small warband. You can't afford everything you want, and you have nothing to stop the rain from hitting your head. You are stuck with laws of weakness." Qara responded with a hint of sternness in her voice.
Ghanar listened to each of them while being oddly attentive. He lightly pushed the girl off his lap then stood. "I will bring my tribe all that in time. They will get stronger, and we will survive." He looked around to all the others in the camp. "Do not listen to this Hyur and a woman. They were sent to scare us into submission! But we will not submit!" He shouted into the crowd; his once-calm voice now booming.
The Xaela around them started muttering to each other in discussion. Ghanar began to look displeased as his declaration was met with uncertainty. One man stepped out from the crowd. "Why offer us this? What do you get in return?" He asked Maric and Qara.
Qara took a step forward. “I want to lead you. That ship I talked about, I need a crew for it. Xaela who aren’t afraid of the ocean.â€
More muttering discussion erupted from the group, but Ghanar paced over to the Xaela who spoke out, and threw a punch into his face that knocked the man into the sand. He growled as he turned to Qara. "We aren't from tribes lead by women. I will not step down as leader. I -can not-. You know this."
"You could just be a leader who has another leader..." Maric offered helpfully; pacing over to the displaced lap girl to give her a reassuring smile. The girl actually cracked a slight smile to Maric despite the fact that she looked like she was trying to stay unnoticed.
Ghanar shook his head. "Go away. I will let you both live. You are no threat to me. They will not be led by a Hyur or a woman." He headed back for his rock, but Qara stepped up further. "I challenge you then. If you think I'm too weak as a woman, prove it."
"About bloody time..." Maric muttered. He then quickly smiled again, and glanced back to the girl. "Your name, Miss?" The girl met his gaze. "Nergui Ejinn." She spoke quietly.
Ghanar picked up his spear then gave it a twirl. "You do this, I kill you. This isn't a game, Hotgo woman." His voice took a grim tone. Qara simply nodded once then turned to pace for a clearing.
Ghanar stood opposite of Qara, and held his spear in one hand. The plundered chainmail was his only real armor, but like any male Xaela, he was an imposing figure. "You've forgotten your homeland, Hotgo. I was a warrior back home." He shifted his stance into battle-ready with spear out, and haft held in both hands.
Qara slid a mythrite zweihander off of the holster on her back. The helmet held under her arm was set and secured on her head before she pulled the visor down over her blue-ringed, red eyes. "I know what you are. I'm sorry, but I have to cut off your hands. It's the only way to make sure you live, but can't be leader."
"You could just cut off one," Maric offered helpfully. "Or a foot..."
Ghanar roared and charged for Qara. Several strides from his starting position, he lunged; throwing his weight into a long thrust, but she angled her body so the spear glanced off her armor. She twirled and chopped in one fluid motion. His spear was severed then she shoulder-bashed into him. He staggered back, but stayed on his feet. With a grunt, he drew an old cutlass from his belt.
Seeing that Qara could actually fight made the group begin cheering. But it was unclear for whom they cheered in the noise of meshing words, and voices all raising at once.
"Good. Good!" Maric clapped his hands. "Use your aggressive feelings girl! Let the hate flow through you!" He chuckled as he placed a reassuring hand on Nergui's shoulder. "She's my prize pupil."
Ghanar and Qara began to furiously trade blows on each other's blades. A slash for her head missed as she ducked, but he followed with a slash downward that sliced against the armor on her arm. Sparks flew as she sent a reprisal slash across his midsection that rang as it slid along rusty chain.
They squared off again then began pacing in a circle. Ghanar suddenly growled. "Enough!" He reached to draw something from his lower back with his free hand. Qara had seen what it was already. She let out an exhale, and focused. Red, scale-pattern aura began to form around her before Ghanar got the weapons aimed aimed - an old one-shot pistol.
He fired. Reddish light flared at she was hit. A loud ring from the impact on her breastplate echoed along the beach. Qara was knocked onto her back.
Maric squinted, but some in the group roared while others gasped. The Hyur called out to Qara; clearly not to concerned. "You have a bad track record with guns, you know." He tssked.
Ghanar gave Maric a perplexed look. "She's dea-" he began to speak, but Qara leaped back up onto her feet by throwing her legs up and forward. One palm opened as she held her hand toward her foe, and a purple hex formed in front of it. "Yes, I know..." She spoke in mild irritation as she fired a trio of aether bolts. Ghanar was struck three times, and staggered enough to drop his empty gun.
Qara swiftly stepped forward and sliced away his hand that held the cutlass. Ghanar yelled and threw a hammer-fist punch down at Qara. Her left arm is brought up in time to brace the blow as she raised her sword under his wrist and sliced in a quick, curt motion. His other hand is removed. He staggered further before falling into a kneel with bloody nubs where his hands used to be pulled in towards his midsection.
Qara turned to the group. "Ghanar Khan is no longer a Khan. He can't be your leader with no hands." She panted to catch her breath. "This power I have is from learning... Learning the ways of people like Maric and others. One thing I will change for you is the rank of Khan. It is gone now. I'm Qaratai, your Captain... If you accept me."
Lost in the heat of the moment, some of the group cheered while others muttered back and forth. They all had a choice to make: fall back on one of their own, or follow this new Xaela who offered them a new life.
Maric stepped over toward Qara. "...I like that last part, about having them learn my ways. Should I consider these Xaela a fresh batch of squires?"
Qara smiled lightly even as she continued to catch her breath. She opened a container on her belt, and painted a blue line under her right eye. "Someone help Ghanar before he bleeds all the way... None of you have to die." She called to the group before looking to Maric. "Maybe... But more like someone to help teach them things about Eorzea."
The Hyur hummed and snatched the paints up off her belt. "I'm proud. I should reward you. Do you have any requests, since I know you don't like back-rubs?â€
"Help me keep my promise to them. They are Haragin. They belong on the water. They need armor, weapons, a place to stay and food for now. When the ship is made, they can start earning everything themselves." She responded.
Maric turned the paint container over in his hands, and glanced over to Ghanar. "That man had respect, and promise. He had bad habits, but he genuinely cared about honor and his people. And he was strong too. He could have served brilliantly... Now, he can never be anything. He will live his life remembering this moment with sorrow; realizing that it was here and now that he lost any control of his life, and any hope for his own future... If he chooses to continue living at all..." He paused. "It's a shame that such cruelty is sometimes necessary." He popped open the container, and painted a strip of black under his eye.
Qara frowned and lowered her head. Maric’s tone had not been a scolding one; he merely wanted to teach her about the implications of her actions. Had there been a better way? Did she accomplish the most noble results with her choices? Even after such commitment to her course, she did not know the answers. She responded with silence.