**3.56 Spoilers ahead!!!*
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"The pen is mightier than the sword" It was an old adage championed by poets and politicians. Orrin was neither, and oft believed that the pen's reach and efficacy was oft outdone by a spear. Nevertheless, He sat in the office provided by the Immortal Flames with quill in hand. It was a rather spartan office, a sturdy, dark, wooden desk and a few sconces in the grey, roughly hewn stone.Â
He, along with several Temple Knights were there for "Joint Operations" or so he claimed when he petitioned to head south to Ul'dah. "To further better understanding and cooperation among the Grand Companies of Eorzea for the sake of a stronger, more cohesive alliance." It was a good enough idea in its own right, and it was easiest to lie with the truth in hand. It was well timed, the developments in the shroud surrounding Baelsar's wall had worsened and so the Immortal Flames were eager to trade strategies and tricks in hopes of strengthening their own capabilities. It helped the Alliance, but it also allowed Orrin to be closer to Goldentail.
 Orrin, with quick, deft motions signed off on another paper and he swiped it aside onto the stack of similar forms on the table that began to tower an ilm over the desk.  He was here to finish a fight that started before the end of the Dragonsong war, the last battle he needed to see through, perhaps then, the wailing of his Inner Dragon would finally cease as it had for so many others. Â
He sat back in his wooden chair and looks over to the neat mess of paperwork. What was there was his first move against Goldentail. It was a formal demand that took her order of the Aster away from her supposed surveying expedition which so happened to be on the Bright Ones' doorstep. Instead they would be running exercises with his Temple Knights and the Immortal Flames. Â And while he ran those exercises, he would entrust the Bright Ones' safety to his allies.Â
Commanding troops, running parallel operations, this was all rather familiar to Orrin, but he was used to walking alongside his men. Part of him yearned to be out there that day, to lend his weapon instead of his pen. But he was no longer a Dragoon of the Holy See, he no longer had the autonomy of that position. Instead, he had responsibilities and the image of the new republic to uphold. Attacking her would be like assaulting a high house member of Ishgard. If Goldentail could work in the shadows, so could he.
There is a knock on the door.
"Enter." Orrin says.
A Temple Knight pushes through, half-running up to the desk. He gives a salute "Ser! News from the Lord Commander!"Â
Orrin sits up properly as if Aymeric himself was in the room. "Go on."
"We are to aid in the attack on Baelsar's Wall and secure it as a foothold into Gyr Abania alongside the Alliance. It will be headed by Pipin Tarupin of the Flames"
"Fortunate that we have been training with them for so long. I guess it is war, then. Dismissed."
The Temple Knight salutes and leaves. Orrin can feel a pounding in his chest, an excitement that he could not push down. Upon the realization her felt sick to the stomach.
"The pen is mightier than the sword" It was an old adage championed by poets and politicians. Orrin was neither, and oft believed that the pen's reach and efficacy was oft outdone by a spear. Nevertheless, He sat in the office provided by the Immortal Flames with quill in hand. It was a rather spartan office, a sturdy, dark, wooden desk and a few sconces in the grey, roughly hewn stone.Â
He, along with several Temple Knights were there for "Joint Operations" or so he claimed when he petitioned to head south to Ul'dah. "To further better understanding and cooperation among the Grand Companies of Eorzea for the sake of a stronger, more cohesive alliance." It was a good enough idea in its own right, and it was easiest to lie with the truth in hand. It was well timed, the developments in the shroud surrounding Baelsar's wall had worsened and so the Immortal Flames were eager to trade strategies and tricks in hopes of strengthening their own capabilities. It helped the Alliance, but it also allowed Orrin to be closer to Goldentail.
 Orrin, with quick, deft motions signed off on another paper and he swiped it aside onto the stack of similar forms on the table that began to tower an ilm over the desk.  He was here to finish a fight that started before the end of the Dragonsong war, the last battle he needed to see through, perhaps then, the wailing of his Inner Dragon would finally cease as it had for so many others. Â
He sat back in his wooden chair and looks over to the neat mess of paperwork. What was there was his first move against Goldentail. It was a formal demand that took her order of the Aster away from her supposed surveying expedition which so happened to be on the Bright Ones' doorstep. Instead they would be running exercises with his Temple Knights and the Immortal Flames. Â And while he ran those exercises, he would entrust the Bright Ones' safety to his allies.Â
Commanding troops, running parallel operations, this was all rather familiar to Orrin, but he was used to walking alongside his men. Part of him yearned to be out there that day, to lend his weapon instead of his pen. But he was no longer a Dragoon of the Holy See, he no longer had the autonomy of that position. Instead, he had responsibilities and the image of the new republic to uphold. Attacking her would be like assaulting a high house member of Ishgard. If Goldentail could work in the shadows, so could he.
There is a knock on the door.
"Enter." Orrin says.
A Temple Knight pushes through, half-running up to the desk. He gives a salute "Ser! News from the Lord Commander!"Â
Orrin sits up properly as if Aymeric himself was in the room. "Go on."
"We are to aid in the attack on Baelsar's Wall and secure it as a foothold into Gyr Abania alongside the Alliance. It will be headed by Pipin Tarupin of the Flames"
"Fortunate that we have been training with them for so long. I guess it is war, then. Dismissed."
The Temple Knight salutes and leaves. Orrin can feel a pounding in his chest, an excitement that he could not push down. Upon the realization her felt sick to the stomach.
RPC wiki! Leave rumors! https://wiki.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/pages/Orrin_Halgren
