Warren rose before the sun stirred. He put the dreams out of his head the best he could, trying not to lend credence to the possibility of his fool's errand ending with more bodies in the snow. He had a list of things to accomplish before setting out for Coerthas and he couldn't waste the mental energy on battling phantom beasts.
First he squared away with the Quicksand. He left a note for Momodi offering his thanks, as ever, for her allowing him to seek solace there and a generous purse of coin. As remiss as he was to leave his armor on the rack in his room he knew taking it would only exacerbate things. He didn't mention that bit to Momodi.
Second, he sent away a letter to delivery to the Sultansworn command. By the time it would arrive it would be too late to stop him, but he felt better knowing it was off of his chest. He didn't intend on making his allegiances known to Ishgard.
Lastly, he stopped at one of the market stalls just as the sun started to cast rays across the sky. He paid for a sack of faerie apples and set them in the satchel with the rest of his belongings. Victory was a good bird and deserved an apology for being left in the hands of the elezen.
With his tasks completed, Warren gathered himself in front of the Aetheryte. He threw on an extra set of layered clothes before donning his cloak again, working quickly to avoid the stifling heat that was ever-present in the city-state's walls. His trip coming from Dragonhead some days ago (Twelve, had it really only been days? It felt like a lifetime) had been a welcome refreshment; The quick thaw of the sun on his body in Horizon was merciful. He worried about the reverse. In the blink of an eye it was complete, though; Warren's hand touched to the crystal and he focused for an instant, closing his eyes to try and keep his empty stomach from doing tumbles.
Warren arrived in a puff of hot air as the aether dragged him and some of Ul'dah's infamous weather along with him. The cold embraced him like a lover, already attempting to steal inside of his clothes without so much as a kiss first. Drawing his cloak tighter around him, he trudged off to reunite with his chocobo.
First he squared away with the Quicksand. He left a note for Momodi offering his thanks, as ever, for her allowing him to seek solace there and a generous purse of coin. As remiss as he was to leave his armor on the rack in his room he knew taking it would only exacerbate things. He didn't mention that bit to Momodi.
Second, he sent away a letter to delivery to the Sultansworn command. By the time it would arrive it would be too late to stop him, but he felt better knowing it was off of his chest. He didn't intend on making his allegiances known to Ishgard.
Lastly, he stopped at one of the market stalls just as the sun started to cast rays across the sky. He paid for a sack of faerie apples and set them in the satchel with the rest of his belongings. Victory was a good bird and deserved an apology for being left in the hands of the elezen.
With his tasks completed, Warren gathered himself in front of the Aetheryte. He threw on an extra set of layered clothes before donning his cloak again, working quickly to avoid the stifling heat that was ever-present in the city-state's walls. His trip coming from Dragonhead some days ago (Twelve, had it really only been days? It felt like a lifetime) had been a welcome refreshment; The quick thaw of the sun on his body in Horizon was merciful. He worried about the reverse. In the blink of an eye it was complete, though; Warren's hand touched to the crystal and he focused for an instant, closing his eyes to try and keep his empty stomach from doing tumbles.
Warren arrived in a puff of hot air as the aether dragged him and some of Ul'dah's infamous weather along with him. The cold embraced him like a lover, already attempting to steal inside of his clothes without so much as a kiss first. Drawing his cloak tighter around him, he trudged off to reunite with his chocobo.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
