"Let's go hunt some Garleans."
These are words Shaelen never thought she would say. And yet here she was, looking at people she hardly knew, hearing herself say the words she swore she would never say again.
Who were these people anyways? She knew Hroch, son of Aylard. It was because of Aylard she had come to seek out his only son, to demand where he was. (As if it was the boy's fault.) But it felt cathartic to throw him against the pillar in Black Brush station and demand angrily to know where his father was.
Just because it wasn't right didn't make it any less cathartic.
He didn't know, of course. If he knew, she wouldn't be looking for him. But too many suns have gone by without a word from the old man, and even on that first day, when Aylard failed to show for their rendezvous, there was that hollow feeling in her gut that told her something was wrong. And Shael's gut was never wrong.
Her gut told her this was wrong now, and, being bullheaded and (on occasion) stupid, she was ignoring it. The fire that burned in her chest tensed her muscles, making them jumpy. She needed to do something about it, and hunting Garleans was the best idea she could come up with at the time.
It wasn't as though it might not lead to Aylard, after all. It very well might! And it would let her release the knot that twisted her up inside. The blackness that she thought she had let go long ago when she left the Resistance.
And what was left of this faction of the Resistance anyway? Hroch seemed like a lost puppy at times, trying desperately to hide the despair and doubts about his father's fate behind a puffed-out chest and false bravado. Then there was Ruva and Daena Ghurn. Once proud -- no STILL proud and damn stubborn -- old man Ruva could barely walk, his leg a mangled, patched up mess since his fall at the mines. And Daena, his daughter, hot blooded and overflowing with conviction, with anger brimming just beneath the surface about her father's state. Gods, she reminded Shaelen of herself when she was that young. Too much so.
Then there were two complete strangers. One was a Midlander bounty hunter named Xydane Vale who Hroch met and hired to help find his father. Shaelen knew it was mostly out of desperation, and being that Aylard Greyarm had been missing for so long, she could not argue against it. But the midlander was quiet and kept details of himself out of the conversation. Brynnalia, another member of the Resistance, noted he acted like a knight of some sort. As if chivalry would win any trust with me. Shaelen snorted. But it was good enough for the rest, so Shaelen went with it.
She also knew nothing about this Gharen Wolfsong, a Highlander who had only recently joined the Cause. She had seen him a couple of times at the Grindstone tournaments, but knew nothing of the man. But she gave him some measure of trust because Aylard seemed to trust him implicitly. But things had gone to shite since his arrival. Shaelen could not in honest blame him though, they were dealing in the city of Ul'dah after all, the land of corruption. Too many ways things could go wrong here. She hated dealing in this town, but it was her biggest source of income. What with greedy bandits, Syndicate, and Monetarist abound, smugglers were always being sought after. And now... there were Garleans as well.
Hunting Garleans. Shite.
Shaelen hated the taste of the bloodthirsty bile that often rose in her mouth when she thought this way. When she felt the need to hit something, beat it to a pulp, to release some of this pent up anger and frustration. But that was her way of life when she was with the Resistance. And it left her feeling so hollow after years of serving The Cause. So she left. Against Aylard's wishes, even though a part of her always hoped he had understood, somewhere deep within. Sailing free on the seas, letting the whims of fortune dictate their destination, that had calmed the fire within. Traveling with Shooey by her side, it had brought a lightness to her being, as if lifted by the same winds that fed the sails of Peregrine.
But now that Aylard had gone missing... and learning that there were Garleans about, it woke that fever within her again, one that devoured her thoughts until she could do nothing else but look to feed it somehow. Â It had not helped that she had sent Shooey away to stock up Peregrine. The Roegadyn always had a way of grounding and calming her and his absence reminded her of it all the more. But it was with hopes that she could just turn around and leave after meeting up with Hroch, to leave this matter behind once she knew what had happened to Aylard. Leave Hroch and the rest to figure things out themselves.
But she could not. Shaelen delivered the news to the Resistance of a secret Garlean rendezvous in Central Thalanan, and the next thing she knew she was leading the ragtag group up the railroad tracks to the hidden spot only she knew how to find. She held up a hand when she came to the mouth of the cave, hearing voices echoing from within.
"Do I have your word that this exchange will go as you say?" The woman's voice was barely audible.
"My orders are direct from Garlemald. We need to ensure this will be a secure and incident-free transaction." A man's voice. Clipped dialect. Shaelen recognized Garleans accent easy enough. "You have the word of my superiors. The Empire was not built on lies."
Shaelen nearly snorted then as her hands closed around the cesti at her side, drawing them from her belt. They could not take over Ala Mhigo without lies. False promise of peace and freedom. She glanced behind her to motion to Wolfsong to make his way towards the other mouth of the cave. "Make sure they don't escape," She whispered. But the cursed wind carried her voice too far into the cave. Just as she rounded the corner, she saw the cloaked male turn her way, as if hearing something. Â "Shite..." she muttered.
"Traitors!" The male Garlean hissed, drawing his blade and raising his shield. It immediately crackled to life, flashes of electricity shimmering on its surface. Magitek.
Shaelen leaped over the wooden fence that stood between them, slamming her fists into the ground with fury and might. Her chakra flowed from within, cracking and shaking the earth around her. She heard Daena yelp behind her as she was tossed back by the impact, but Shaelen cared not, her stormy eyes on the two Garleans. They too both stumbled, trying to regain their balance. She saw Xydane rush forward with the blunt end of his axe swinging, having recovered remarkably quick from her move. His swing struck the bladed Garlean in the head, sending him stumbling to the side. She could see the blood trickle from his lips.
Then the Garlean did something she did not expect--though she's should have. One Garlean suddenly turned on the other, slamming the cloaked woman as she too was regaining her bearings, knocking her down. He leaped over her onto the boxes behind them, and activated something else on his wrist. The fallen woman was in the way of Shaelen's pursuit. She could do nothing as she watched as the familiar blue aetheric energies formed a circle around the man, and he disappeared from sight. Garlean teleportation. Shaelen cursed.
"Damn it ta hell!" Daena shouted from behind her. "Get the other one!"
The Garlean woman seemed stunned as the rest, as she looked to where the man had teleported away. Xydane quickly brought his axe upon her, putting the bladed end just before her throat. The cloaked female froze, and wisely held up her hands in front of her, showing them all that she was not armed. Shaelen could see the grey eyes of the Midlander woman. She looked more horrified than fearful.
"Ha! Stinks ta be a Garlean, don't it! Ya dogs don't know the meanin' of loyalty!" Daena ran up behind them. "Keep them hands high!"
Shaelen gave Xydane a glance, and he seemed to recognize her meaning as she said, "I am not taking any chances." He lowered his axe just enough, as she delivered a lightning quick round house kick to the woman's head. The Garlean crumpled to the ground unconscious without a word.
"Think she'd have more coming? Reinforcements?" Hroch trotted up to join them, as was Gharen who still kept his eyes on the other end of the cave.
"Can't be too sure with Garleans," Daena muttered as she delivered a hard kick to the unconscious woman's ribs. "Let's get 'er sorry arse back for questionin'!"
"Aye. Let's not stay here for long. One of you pick her up and let’s get out of here," Shaelen said coldly as she rehooked the cestis onto her belt. She watched Gharen bend over the Garlean to pick up the unconscious woman. That's when the hood fell away. It was a pale Midlander woman, with red hair. Shaelen narrowed her eyes. She looked familiar.
"Damn it." She heard Gharen mutter the words under his breath.
"Need help there strong man?" Daena hovered over the prisoner.
"Go! I got her," Gharen barked.
Shaelen gave Gharen an odd look for a moment as he lifted the unconscious woman in his arms. Then she remembered where she had seen her before: it was at a number of the Grindstone tournaments. Stormy eyes flicked between the Garlean and the Highlander that now bore her in his arms. She would sort this out, but not in the cave. Fates would be decided at Lost Hope when they held the prisoner to question. She motioned them out of the cave, taking up the rear, eyeing the surroundings for any reinforcements that may come. Her fingers closed and unclosed around the cesti at her hips. But as she glanced back to the Garlean prisoner, she once again felt that hollow feeling rising in the pit of her stomach.
Hunting Garleans.
Shite.
These are words Shaelen never thought she would say. And yet here she was, looking at people she hardly knew, hearing herself say the words she swore she would never say again.
Who were these people anyways? She knew Hroch, son of Aylard. It was because of Aylard she had come to seek out his only son, to demand where he was. (As if it was the boy's fault.) But it felt cathartic to throw him against the pillar in Black Brush station and demand angrily to know where his father was.
Just because it wasn't right didn't make it any less cathartic.
He didn't know, of course. If he knew, she wouldn't be looking for him. But too many suns have gone by without a word from the old man, and even on that first day, when Aylard failed to show for their rendezvous, there was that hollow feeling in her gut that told her something was wrong. And Shael's gut was never wrong.
Her gut told her this was wrong now, and, being bullheaded and (on occasion) stupid, she was ignoring it. The fire that burned in her chest tensed her muscles, making them jumpy. She needed to do something about it, and hunting Garleans was the best idea she could come up with at the time.
It wasn't as though it might not lead to Aylard, after all. It very well might! And it would let her release the knot that twisted her up inside. The blackness that she thought she had let go long ago when she left the Resistance.
And what was left of this faction of the Resistance anyway? Hroch seemed like a lost puppy at times, trying desperately to hide the despair and doubts about his father's fate behind a puffed-out chest and false bravado. Then there was Ruva and Daena Ghurn. Once proud -- no STILL proud and damn stubborn -- old man Ruva could barely walk, his leg a mangled, patched up mess since his fall at the mines. And Daena, his daughter, hot blooded and overflowing with conviction, with anger brimming just beneath the surface about her father's state. Gods, she reminded Shaelen of herself when she was that young. Too much so.
Then there were two complete strangers. One was a Midlander bounty hunter named Xydane Vale who Hroch met and hired to help find his father. Shaelen knew it was mostly out of desperation, and being that Aylard Greyarm had been missing for so long, she could not argue against it. But the midlander was quiet and kept details of himself out of the conversation. Brynnalia, another member of the Resistance, noted he acted like a knight of some sort. As if chivalry would win any trust with me. Shaelen snorted. But it was good enough for the rest, so Shaelen went with it.
She also knew nothing about this Gharen Wolfsong, a Highlander who had only recently joined the Cause. She had seen him a couple of times at the Grindstone tournaments, but knew nothing of the man. But she gave him some measure of trust because Aylard seemed to trust him implicitly. But things had gone to shite since his arrival. Shaelen could not in honest blame him though, they were dealing in the city of Ul'dah after all, the land of corruption. Too many ways things could go wrong here. She hated dealing in this town, but it was her biggest source of income. What with greedy bandits, Syndicate, and Monetarist abound, smugglers were always being sought after. And now... there were Garleans as well.
Hunting Garleans. Shite.
Shaelen hated the taste of the bloodthirsty bile that often rose in her mouth when she thought this way. When she felt the need to hit something, beat it to a pulp, to release some of this pent up anger and frustration. But that was her way of life when she was with the Resistance. And it left her feeling so hollow after years of serving The Cause. So she left. Against Aylard's wishes, even though a part of her always hoped he had understood, somewhere deep within. Sailing free on the seas, letting the whims of fortune dictate their destination, that had calmed the fire within. Traveling with Shooey by her side, it had brought a lightness to her being, as if lifted by the same winds that fed the sails of Peregrine.
But now that Aylard had gone missing... and learning that there were Garleans about, it woke that fever within her again, one that devoured her thoughts until she could do nothing else but look to feed it somehow. Â It had not helped that she had sent Shooey away to stock up Peregrine. The Roegadyn always had a way of grounding and calming her and his absence reminded her of it all the more. But it was with hopes that she could just turn around and leave after meeting up with Hroch, to leave this matter behind once she knew what had happened to Aylard. Leave Hroch and the rest to figure things out themselves.
But she could not. Shaelen delivered the news to the Resistance of a secret Garlean rendezvous in Central Thalanan, and the next thing she knew she was leading the ragtag group up the railroad tracks to the hidden spot only she knew how to find. She held up a hand when she came to the mouth of the cave, hearing voices echoing from within.
"Do I have your word that this exchange will go as you say?" The woman's voice was barely audible.
"My orders are direct from Garlemald. We need to ensure this will be a secure and incident-free transaction." A man's voice. Clipped dialect. Shaelen recognized Garleans accent easy enough. "You have the word of my superiors. The Empire was not built on lies."
Shaelen nearly snorted then as her hands closed around the cesti at her side, drawing them from her belt. They could not take over Ala Mhigo without lies. False promise of peace and freedom. She glanced behind her to motion to Wolfsong to make his way towards the other mouth of the cave. "Make sure they don't escape," She whispered. But the cursed wind carried her voice too far into the cave. Just as she rounded the corner, she saw the cloaked male turn her way, as if hearing something. Â "Shite..." she muttered.
"Traitors!" The male Garlean hissed, drawing his blade and raising his shield. It immediately crackled to life, flashes of electricity shimmering on its surface. Magitek.
Shaelen leaped over the wooden fence that stood between them, slamming her fists into the ground with fury and might. Her chakra flowed from within, cracking and shaking the earth around her. She heard Daena yelp behind her as she was tossed back by the impact, but Shaelen cared not, her stormy eyes on the two Garleans. They too both stumbled, trying to regain their balance. She saw Xydane rush forward with the blunt end of his axe swinging, having recovered remarkably quick from her move. His swing struck the bladed Garlean in the head, sending him stumbling to the side. She could see the blood trickle from his lips.
Then the Garlean did something she did not expect--though she's should have. One Garlean suddenly turned on the other, slamming the cloaked woman as she too was regaining her bearings, knocking her down. He leaped over her onto the boxes behind them, and activated something else on his wrist. The fallen woman was in the way of Shaelen's pursuit. She could do nothing as she watched as the familiar blue aetheric energies formed a circle around the man, and he disappeared from sight. Garlean teleportation. Shaelen cursed.
"Damn it ta hell!" Daena shouted from behind her. "Get the other one!"
The Garlean woman seemed stunned as the rest, as she looked to where the man had teleported away. Xydane quickly brought his axe upon her, putting the bladed end just before her throat. The cloaked female froze, and wisely held up her hands in front of her, showing them all that she was not armed. Shaelen could see the grey eyes of the Midlander woman. She looked more horrified than fearful.
"Ha! Stinks ta be a Garlean, don't it! Ya dogs don't know the meanin' of loyalty!" Daena ran up behind them. "Keep them hands high!"
Shaelen gave Xydane a glance, and he seemed to recognize her meaning as she said, "I am not taking any chances." He lowered his axe just enough, as she delivered a lightning quick round house kick to the woman's head. The Garlean crumpled to the ground unconscious without a word.
"Think she'd have more coming? Reinforcements?" Hroch trotted up to join them, as was Gharen who still kept his eyes on the other end of the cave.
"Can't be too sure with Garleans," Daena muttered as she delivered a hard kick to the unconscious woman's ribs. "Let's get 'er sorry arse back for questionin'!"
"Aye. Let's not stay here for long. One of you pick her up and let’s get out of here," Shaelen said coldly as she rehooked the cestis onto her belt. She watched Gharen bend over the Garlean to pick up the unconscious woman. That's when the hood fell away. It was a pale Midlander woman, with red hair. Shaelen narrowed her eyes. She looked familiar.
"Damn it." She heard Gharen mutter the words under his breath.
"Need help there strong man?" Daena hovered over the prisoner.
"Go! I got her," Gharen barked.
Shaelen gave Gharen an odd look for a moment as he lifted the unconscious woman in his arms. Then she remembered where she had seen her before: it was at a number of the Grindstone tournaments. Stormy eyes flicked between the Garlean and the Highlander that now bore her in his arms. She would sort this out, but not in the cave. Fates would be decided at Lost Hope when they held the prisoner to question. She motioned them out of the cave, taking up the rear, eyeing the surroundings for any reinforcements that may come. Her fingers closed and unclosed around the cesti at her hips. But as she glanced back to the Garlean prisoner, she once again felt that hollow feeling rising in the pit of her stomach.
Hunting Garleans.
Shite.