((Your exact quoting of IC events had me realize that I need to screenshot such occurances, that's a first step! So if my approximation isn't satisfactory, feel free to give me the lines so that I can incorporate them.))
What is he trying to tell me?
Only after picking up on a muffled cough, one that sounded quite deliberate, did Kahn'a turn his heels to be presented with the sight of the said Swift. In a blink he felt his face going hot, from embarassement no doubt. He only had to glance once at the man to recognize that self-confident posture suggesting he was someone with rank, or that he believed so. And the garments were quite different, too. Realizing his misdoing, he clumsily brought himself in front of the Commander, to give him a proper salute, feet aligned correctly but feeling a little stiff, especially as he recited his name and rank. When prompted to have a sit, Kahn'a executed himself in silence, willing to make a good impression.
Sit comfortably, he turned his attention back to Osric, and had a hard time not glancing at him with suspicious insistence. Kahn'a was preoccupied with looking for a sign, maybe a certain uneasiness in the Sergeant's demeanor, maybe words coming out too fast from his mouth. He himself was not exactly involved into it, but he knew Sergeant Osric managed to find himself some trouble. Something that could blow up in their faces. For the sake of the man, Kahn'a silently wished nothing would transpire from his attitude. He was ready to help him, were he asked to. That seemed like fair exchange for the information he would get on the Captain's location, even with how little that might be.
Fortunately for both of them, the meeting went without bumps, and after gathering and sharing their intelligence, the Commander Swift gave them general directions for them to be looking at. It would have been hard to be more specific, given how little was known of the Captain's disappearance. They knew he left or was taken away the days following the Ball, and that his house had been ransacked, possibly in a fight. In other words, they had nothing. Officially nothing.
But both the Sergeant and the Private knew a little more. At least, there was potential for them to know more. Someone, some lady, had ties with Erik Mynhier, and had apparently lost track of him. Kahn'a was pretty unaccustomed to people moving so far away from their places, but he was convinced that in trying to gather information of his usual whereabouts, he could trace a certain perimeter where he was more likely to find a clue, a piece of evidence that would suggest where Erik could have been taken away. Again, those assumptions were slim, but they were better than mere wind.
As the meeting came to an end, both had their orders, or rather pityful attempts at giving some direction to the investigation. Yes, Kahn'a would pay some attention to those orders, he was supposed to, after all. But in his mind bloomed other ideas, though for some reason, he felt he would be wise to keep them to himself. For practical reasons, he had been shown where the Red Wings would meet, and the Captain gave him the direction of an office he would sometimes sit at. Now if that office was anything like in the books he read, there probably would be some piece of clue that could aid them in their search. And if not, he would still have the chance to learn more about him.
Leaving the meeting more appropriately than he arrived, Kahn'a made haste towards the Captain's office. He had no idea why, but he felt a sense of urgency in entering it. Perhaps was it the thrill of treading in territory he was not to set foot in unless invited, or the prospect of actually finding a lead on the search. He found himself in front of the door quickly enough. Swallowing his doubts away, Kahn'a grabbed at the doorknob, turned… and opened an unlocked door. In that instant, as he was pushing the wood panel to make space and enter the room, he was very much reminded of what he heard about the ransack at Erik's house. Door unlocked, and then furnitures, baubles and trinkets thrown about, without any kind of order.
This was different though. Surely the door was unlocked alright, but as he stepped into the room, his eyes wide open from the apprehension, he sighed, out of relief. The room was neatly organized, and only a thin pelicule of dust seemed to have occupied the place. Why had he been so worried? Reasonable thinking would have prevented this, but there was not even a reasonable explanation to the man's disappearance in the first place! It was rather unlikely the place would have seen intruders, much less still be inhabited by one, that said. Settling down, Kahn'a walked up with prudence to the desk, as he intended to start shuffling papers and drawing about… that is, before he set his eyes on a certain piece of paper. It was a regular piece of paper, except that it had been roughly handled. He could clearly see where the paper had been folded, crumpled would have been more appropriate. Flattening it with both his hands, he gave it a look and read some of it.
That was then that he froze. On the short letter, there were a few words that caught, no, fixed his attention to them. Ul'dah's destruction. Franctically, he read through the paper multiple times, making sure there was no chance he was misunderstanding any piece of information. It read:
Finally, he grabbed the paper and shoved it into a pouch on his belt. From the same pouch, he took out two small rocks that he rubbed together to spark a red candle lit. Letting the flame slowly grow, he started to pace around in the room. Askier… the Miqo'te from the Ball, the one the Captain asked Kahn'a to be especially careful about. And so, his suspicions grew a little more realistic in his mind. Could the one man entrusted with such intelligence by the highest authority in the city-state simply walk away from this unfinished business? No, that could not be it. His heart tightened in his chest as a thought occured to him. Could it be that with this evidence, he went ahead to deal with the threat on his own, not telling him a word of it?
No, it seemed very unlikely. And yet… he could not shake the feeling that this crumped letter was telling something beyond its own words. Discarded on the table, it was an indication that something happened. Something potentially more pressing than its mere content. Was Askier able to reach him all the way here? After all, Kahn'a saw it himself with his eyes, the man was very well accompanied. He had stumbled upon him, in the far land of Coerthas, him and a few people. Dropping the quarry he was originally looking for, he followed him all the way back to an inn, or a tavern, in which they stayed for what seemed like hours. Of their conversation, Kahn'a had heard very little, except them talking loud enough about Askier's little problem with liquor. But that was it.
Still, it was a possibility they held the Captain captive, and he had to act upon that note anyway. Grabbing a piece of paper and some ink, he wrote in very simple letters, the one he had been taught back in his clan, this note:
And in some sense, it was true. Watching Askier from a distance was his job, but he suspected Erik Mynhier held no desire to see the Miqo'te go any further into his schemes, or more correctly, after the discovery of this letter, his orders.
With quick hands, he folded the piece of paper, poured some wax on the middle, and pressed it with his finger. It was not much, but that was a small guarantee Osric would know if anyone pried in their exchange, he had seen other people do it by the past too. And after blowing off the candle , he left the office, moving with velocity to make his way to Vesper Bay, where Askier would be waiting for the next step.
And waiting he was… but much to Kahn'a's apprehension, none of his two companions he recognized. It could only mean that Askier had managed to gather more convinced minds to plot against the city-state of Ul'dah. Whether he had deceived them into joining him, mattered little. The important part was the interception of the message he was supposed to receive. He had to retrieve it.
Pressed against a wall, stalking Askier from a distance, Kahn'a sighed. Three people he could not be expected to take care of on his own. Hells, he did not even have orders to do so! He just needed that message. Yes, robbing it from Askier would surely stop his plans. Now he only needed the Sergeant to turn up… or someone…
Passing through Thal's Gate back in Ul'dah, Kahn'a was clenching his shoulder, hard, the adrenaline of the evening finally beginning to fade away. Yes, he had been hurt in his dealing with Askier and his thugs, but it mattered little. He had had a bite of his prey, and there was no backing off for him anymore. In his hand, another paper, very much like the first letter that had been intercepted, trapped in a steel hold. It was the scent, and he would not let that go. A proof that only hours ago, he only suspected the existence of, he now had a solid grasp on it. The paper was covered in riddles meant to direct Askier to the part of the device. If a single device was able to threaten the whole city-state, then it could only be a bomb of some sorts, and one that needed to be asembled… It was a threat they were prepared for at the Ball, and there it was again, floating about in the tense atmosphere the mere threat of it created. Bomb.
Kahn'a blinked at a wave of fresh pain in his shoulder. Thinking back, it could have been a lot worse, had it not been so humiliating. Paralyzed, gaping at Askier for an unending second, he could only watch the scum turn into a furious rage, pulling away the arrow he had just been struck with, and charging at Kahn'a with a strength that ought not to be. And his eyes, he met his gaze in this instant, his eyes were…
Shaking his head vigorously, he chased the image away. No, Not now…
He met the Sergeant shortly after. Osric arrived late at Vesper Bay, but he played a crucial role in the acquisition of the paper Kahn'a was fermly holding nonetheless. But since from the message, the man had little idea what was going on, the Miqo'te agreed to give him a little more context, once they would be back in town. With a trembling voice, both from the adrenaline and the hint of fear that was incidiously growing into him, he exposed his findings to Melkire, about the letter, the bomb, and the office.
But before they parted, Kahn'a enquired about the deal that could blow up in their faces. That mere formulation suddenly sounded grimmer, in the light of that evening's events. And against his expectations, the man turned his head towards him, with a look that suggested weariness. He was so surprised, in fact, that something urged him to speak.
"I trust you."
The words came out of his mouth without second thought. But it was the blunt truth. As the Sergeant managed to make it in time to Vesper Bay, it gave Kahn'a the confirmation that he was trustworthy. He had, after all, given him very little information about what he was to expect in coming. And for some reason, he felt like stating it clearly, probably because he wanted to help him as he himself received help. He found that night that there was strength to be had in numbers.
"Thank you, means a lot." Osric simply answered, as he left behind a troubled Kahn'a.
((I would have gladly told the events of that evening as it was all quite clear and I have screenshots of those, but I fear it might have taken me another century to write it, and that post is already impossibly daunting. I consider doing a separate thread about the events, that said.))
((For reference, there is a brief sum-up of that evening event in Askier's thread, click me!))
What is he trying to tell me?
Only after picking up on a muffled cough, one that sounded quite deliberate, did Kahn'a turn his heels to be presented with the sight of the said Swift. In a blink he felt his face going hot, from embarassement no doubt. He only had to glance once at the man to recognize that self-confident posture suggesting he was someone with rank, or that he believed so. And the garments were quite different, too. Realizing his misdoing, he clumsily brought himself in front of the Commander, to give him a proper salute, feet aligned correctly but feeling a little stiff, especially as he recited his name and rank. When prompted to have a sit, Kahn'a executed himself in silence, willing to make a good impression.
Sit comfortably, he turned his attention back to Osric, and had a hard time not glancing at him with suspicious insistence. Kahn'a was preoccupied with looking for a sign, maybe a certain uneasiness in the Sergeant's demeanor, maybe words coming out too fast from his mouth. He himself was not exactly involved into it, but he knew Sergeant Osric managed to find himself some trouble. Something that could blow up in their faces. For the sake of the man, Kahn'a silently wished nothing would transpire from his attitude. He was ready to help him, were he asked to. That seemed like fair exchange for the information he would get on the Captain's location, even with how little that might be.
Fortunately for both of them, the meeting went without bumps, and after gathering and sharing their intelligence, the Commander Swift gave them general directions for them to be looking at. It would have been hard to be more specific, given how little was known of the Captain's disappearance. They knew he left or was taken away the days following the Ball, and that his house had been ransacked, possibly in a fight. In other words, they had nothing. Officially nothing.
But both the Sergeant and the Private knew a little more. At least, there was potential for them to know more. Someone, some lady, had ties with Erik Mynhier, and had apparently lost track of him. Kahn'a was pretty unaccustomed to people moving so far away from their places, but he was convinced that in trying to gather information of his usual whereabouts, he could trace a certain perimeter where he was more likely to find a clue, a piece of evidence that would suggest where Erik could have been taken away. Again, those assumptions were slim, but they were better than mere wind.
As the meeting came to an end, both had their orders, or rather pityful attempts at giving some direction to the investigation. Yes, Kahn'a would pay some attention to those orders, he was supposed to, after all. But in his mind bloomed other ideas, though for some reason, he felt he would be wise to keep them to himself. For practical reasons, he had been shown where the Red Wings would meet, and the Captain gave him the direction of an office he would sometimes sit at. Now if that office was anything like in the books he read, there probably would be some piece of clue that could aid them in their search. And if not, he would still have the chance to learn more about him.
____________________________________
Leaving the meeting more appropriately than he arrived, Kahn'a made haste towards the Captain's office. He had no idea why, but he felt a sense of urgency in entering it. Perhaps was it the thrill of treading in territory he was not to set foot in unless invited, or the prospect of actually finding a lead on the search. He found himself in front of the door quickly enough. Swallowing his doubts away, Kahn'a grabbed at the doorknob, turned… and opened an unlocked door. In that instant, as he was pushing the wood panel to make space and enter the room, he was very much reminded of what he heard about the ransack at Erik's house. Door unlocked, and then furnitures, baubles and trinkets thrown about, without any kind of order.
This was different though. Surely the door was unlocked alright, but as he stepped into the room, his eyes wide open from the apprehension, he sighed, out of relief. The room was neatly organized, and only a thin pelicule of dust seemed to have occupied the place. Why had he been so worried? Reasonable thinking would have prevented this, but there was not even a reasonable explanation to the man's disappearance in the first place! It was rather unlikely the place would have seen intruders, much less still be inhabited by one, that said. Settling down, Kahn'a walked up with prudence to the desk, as he intended to start shuffling papers and drawing about… that is, before he set his eyes on a certain piece of paper. It was a regular piece of paper, except that it had been roughly handled. He could clearly see where the paper had been folded, crumpled would have been more appropriate. Flattening it with both his hands, he gave it a look and read some of it.
That was then that he froze. On the short letter, there were a few words that caught, no, fixed his attention to them. Ul'dah's destruction. Franctically, he read through the paper multiple times, making sure there was no chance he was misunderstanding any piece of information. It read:
Quote:Askier,
You have done well thus far and you prior report was encouraging, though this will be our final directive. You are to proceed to Vesper Bay and recover the package Rynsur leaves there and then decode the riddle detailing the arrival locations of the final three parts for the device and use them to complete Ul’dah’s destruction. There will be no acceptance of failure. Either you complete your assignment and return a hero or your life, and that of your sister, is forfeit. We will have eyes watching you.
Finally, he grabbed the paper and shoved it into a pouch on his belt. From the same pouch, he took out two small rocks that he rubbed together to spark a red candle lit. Letting the flame slowly grow, he started to pace around in the room. Askier… the Miqo'te from the Ball, the one the Captain asked Kahn'a to be especially careful about. And so, his suspicions grew a little more realistic in his mind. Could the one man entrusted with such intelligence by the highest authority in the city-state simply walk away from this unfinished business? No, that could not be it. His heart tightened in his chest as a thought occured to him. Could it be that with this evidence, he went ahead to deal with the threat on his own, not telling him a word of it?
No, it seemed very unlikely. And yet… he could not shake the feeling that this crumped letter was telling something beyond its own words. Discarded on the table, it was an indication that something happened. Something potentially more pressing than its mere content. Was Askier able to reach him all the way here? After all, Kahn'a saw it himself with his eyes, the man was very well accompanied. He had stumbled upon him, in the far land of Coerthas, him and a few people. Dropping the quarry he was originally looking for, he followed him all the way back to an inn, or a tavern, in which they stayed for what seemed like hours. Of their conversation, Kahn'a had heard very little, except them talking loud enough about Askier's little problem with liquor. But that was it.
Still, it was a possibility they held the Captain captive, and he had to act upon that note anyway. Grabbing a piece of paper and some ink, he wrote in very simple letters, the one he had been taught back in his clan, this note:
Quote:Urgent. Come now, post-haste. Vesper Bay. Lives endangered. The Captain is depending on us.
And in some sense, it was true. Watching Askier from a distance was his job, but he suspected Erik Mynhier held no desire to see the Miqo'te go any further into his schemes, or more correctly, after the discovery of this letter, his orders.
With quick hands, he folded the piece of paper, poured some wax on the middle, and pressed it with his finger. It was not much, but that was a small guarantee Osric would know if anyone pried in their exchange, he had seen other people do it by the past too. And after blowing off the candle , he left the office, moving with velocity to make his way to Vesper Bay, where Askier would be waiting for the next step.
And waiting he was… but much to Kahn'a's apprehension, none of his two companions he recognized. It could only mean that Askier had managed to gather more convinced minds to plot against the city-state of Ul'dah. Whether he had deceived them into joining him, mattered little. The important part was the interception of the message he was supposed to receive. He had to retrieve it.
Pressed against a wall, stalking Askier from a distance, Kahn'a sighed. Three people he could not be expected to take care of on his own. Hells, he did not even have orders to do so! He just needed that message. Yes, robbing it from Askier would surely stop his plans. Now he only needed the Sergeant to turn up… or someone…
[…] ((See note at the bottom))
Passing through Thal's Gate back in Ul'dah, Kahn'a was clenching his shoulder, hard, the adrenaline of the evening finally beginning to fade away. Yes, he had been hurt in his dealing with Askier and his thugs, but it mattered little. He had had a bite of his prey, and there was no backing off for him anymore. In his hand, another paper, very much like the first letter that had been intercepted, trapped in a steel hold. It was the scent, and he would not let that go. A proof that only hours ago, he only suspected the existence of, he now had a solid grasp on it. The paper was covered in riddles meant to direct Askier to the part of the device. If a single device was able to threaten the whole city-state, then it could only be a bomb of some sorts, and one that needed to be asembled… It was a threat they were prepared for at the Ball, and there it was again, floating about in the tense atmosphere the mere threat of it created. Bomb.
Kahn'a blinked at a wave of fresh pain in his shoulder. Thinking back, it could have been a lot worse, had it not been so humiliating. Paralyzed, gaping at Askier for an unending second, he could only watch the scum turn into a furious rage, pulling away the arrow he had just been struck with, and charging at Kahn'a with a strength that ought not to be. And his eyes, he met his gaze in this instant, his eyes were…
Shaking his head vigorously, he chased the image away. No, Not now…
He met the Sergeant shortly after. Osric arrived late at Vesper Bay, but he played a crucial role in the acquisition of the paper Kahn'a was fermly holding nonetheless. But since from the message, the man had little idea what was going on, the Miqo'te agreed to give him a little more context, once they would be back in town. With a trembling voice, both from the adrenaline and the hint of fear that was incidiously growing into him, he exposed his findings to Melkire, about the letter, the bomb, and the office.
But before they parted, Kahn'a enquired about the deal that could blow up in their faces. That mere formulation suddenly sounded grimmer, in the light of that evening's events. And against his expectations, the man turned his head towards him, with a look that suggested weariness. He was so surprised, in fact, that something urged him to speak.
"I trust you."
The words came out of his mouth without second thought. But it was the blunt truth. As the Sergeant managed to make it in time to Vesper Bay, it gave Kahn'a the confirmation that he was trustworthy. He had, after all, given him very little information about what he was to expect in coming. And for some reason, he felt like stating it clearly, probably because he wanted to help him as he himself received help. He found that night that there was strength to be had in numbers.
"Thank you, means a lot." Osric simply answered, as he left behind a troubled Kahn'a.
((I would have gladly told the events of that evening as it was all quite clear and I have screenshots of those, but I fear it might have taken me another century to write it, and that post is already impossibly daunting. I consider doing a separate thread about the events, that said.))
((For reference, there is a brief sum-up of that evening event in Askier's thread, click me!))
