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Arrzaneth Ossuary had, in his experience, always been a dreary place. That it was “dull†was not something he could claim. The seat of power for both the Order of Nald’thal and the thaumaturges’ guild was anything but dull. The trouble, he’d found, was not his lack of interest in the texts, the studies, the techniques, sometimes even the laws… but rather in the atmosphere of the place. Walking into the Ossuary always felt like leading your own funeral procession. Fittingly so, aye, but it was discomforting all the same, even for one so intimate with death such as himself.
This sun was no different. Mages scurried this way and that across the floor, and a line of supplicants eager to devote their souls -- and their gil -- to Nald could be seen standing before his effigy. The guards at the doors looked him and his companion over; there were a few raised eyebrows and some shifting of feet, but they allowed Osric Melkire to pass, and the Lominsan led Aya Foxheart inside. At least they were no longer out in the open; dark clouds had blanketed the sky all sun long, and they promised an inevitable deluge of rain.
“Hisa,†he said to her as they moved further in. “Was all the man gave me. No description… but it sounds ‘fellin.â€
Hisa had, in fact, been the name he’d been given when he’d approached the captain helming the Golden Fleet vessel. He’d been shocked to recognize a galleon of Ul’dah in La Noscean waters, and given the circumstances he’d felt obliged to inquire after their business there. Alas, he’d been turned away and told that he’d have more luck speaking to an official if he wanted to know anything about their orders.
“That or Doman….â€
That drew him up short; he’d been about to retort, but on second thought she had a valid point.
“Hadn’t thought o’ that, I must admit.†He chuckled. “See? Knew bringin’ you was a good idea.â€
She nodded at him. He grinned at her, so she beamed back. “Of course it was!â€
They ended up spending the better part of a tenth-bell asking around; Lalafell were the most populous race in Ul’dah, rivaled only by the Hyur; that distribution was even more apparent here in the microcosm that was the Ossuary. At last, though, they found themselves in one of the far back corners of the main chamber, looking down at….
Her lalafellin ears perked up as they approached, and she turned towards them. Her dress was not at all modest compared to the adepts that bustled about; the garments were decidedly Near Eastern in appearance, and the turban that covered her head and veiled her face looked thick and expensive.
“Ah.†Osric pulled up short again. “Excuse me, s--â€
He paused as he noted the dress. Dress. Not a robe, not a vest with slops or breeches, not leathers… a dress. A revealing one, in fact.
"And who might you be?"
"...'pologies, miss, but I was pointed 'ere t'ask after a Madam or Miss Hisa? We've come a long way, m'friend 'n' I...."
He bowed to her, even as the Lalafell turned to regard him. Aya cocked her hips as she settled into a resting pose. The blonde winked playfully to the little woman with a knowing grin.
"I am Miss Hisa. What does a ill-dressed man needs with me? And you must be Miss Aya Foxheart. Far from the Quicksand, are you?"
"--ahh,†Osric glanced over his shoulder at Aya. “Shite, you been back that long? Thought mayhap y'came straight from Limsa, same as I did...."
Aya glanced back at him. "Ah! I've been back and forth so much lately! But Madame Momodi doesn't let me miss every shift!"
The Lominsan rolled his eyes and turned back to Miss Hisa. "We were hopin' t'inquire after the Golden Fleet's interest in current on-goin's on Vylbrand."
Miss Hisa stared at them in silence for a moment or two. "What do you need? We're only protecting our interests in the region. As you may know, Ul'dah does not share a peaceful history with the dirty pirates of Limsa."
Osric's lips twitched. "No... no, they don't."
"Then it would be reasonable for Ul'dah to protect her own coin and countrymen, as well as her fellow member of the Eorzean Alliance."
The woman sneered up at him. It was barely visible, given the veil, but it was there. It showed in her tone, as well, which made it impossible to miss… but he let it pass without comment, and only nodded. Aya, however, seemed to be fighting to hold onto a warm smile as she asked--
"Protect from what, Madame?"
Hisa looked over at the woman, "From renegade pirates and scum. The admiral can barely control her own hounds, much less the wild wolves that prowl the Sea of Jade. Suns ago, a few pirates decided to lay themselves down in front of Syndicate investments in Costa." She frowned deeply, and then that frown twisted into another sneer. "Of course, that problem was apparently dealt with."
"Yeah...?" Aya’s eyes opened a little wider. "What happened?"
"Heard about this,†said Osric. “Some ghost ship settled matters, aye?"
"Yes,†said Hisa. “A most intrepid 'pirate', typical of the lot. Saw his chance to make a name and blew the other pirate to the Traders’ Realm."
"That sounds so familiar...!†Aya seemed genuinely interested. “But that wasn't a Golden Fleet ghost ship was it...?"
"I've heard this is a common means of 'succession' among the pirate folk,†said Hisa. “And no, it was not."
"Nahhh,†said Osric, “some folks've been claimin' it was the Revenge. But that's hogwash. Damned thing doesn't exist."
Hisa stared up at Aya for a moment. "The captain was named Simb'a Fuckintia, if I recall."
It took all of Osric’s not-so-inconsiderable willpower to keep a straight face as he turned back to Hisa and bowed again. "Puttin' aside the matter o' Seeker scum, miss, we were actually lookin' t'help, in a manner o' speakin'."
"In what way?" The Lalafellin woman looked agitated.
Aya blinked, and looked a little as if she'd missed something entirely, "So pirates dealt with the pirate problem.. and the Golden Fleet is... dealing.. with.. the pirates...?"
"The Golden Fleet deals with Ul'dahn investments,†Hisa explained. “We cannot allow shipments… we cannot allow our trade to be jeopardized."
Aya looked a little satisfied with that for the moment, if not entirely so, so Osric grunted and barged onward.
"Have it on good authority.. 'n' not the Admiralty's kind--" He sneered at the mere thought of Merlwyb. "--that a shipment o' ceruleum was delivered t'Limsa not too long ago. The independents who claimed 'n' paid for the lot... well... records 'n' logs have 'em as Gridanians."
"And?" Hisa sneered at him again. She seemed overly fond of sneering. He was tempted to warn her that her face would freeze that way. He didn’t. "You still haven't told me exactly what you are asking for, Mister... Red Shirt?"
Osric waved his hands, idly musing for a moment on how many folk seemed inclined to identify him by his clothes rather than his features. "Now hold on, let me explain, aye? Might've been born a son o' Limsa, but I grew t'love the Jewel. I don't want trouble brewin' between the two of 'em, but someone's seen fit t'smuggle ceruleum from some new field somewhere onto Vylbrand 'n' then off to the Twelveswood. Is it truly in the best interests o' Ul'dah for Gridania t'come to the fore? Think of it: another field out there somewhere, t'rival the rivers 'n' deposits o' Northern Thanalan...."
Miss Hisa, thank the gods, finally looked a little interested. He sighed with relief.
"Ain't good. Ain't good at all. No profit. Missed opportunities, 'n' swellin' rivals."
"And what do you propose, Mister Red Shirt…?"
He smiled. "Tracked down the name o' the family what owns the venture. Figure I'd point the Golden Fleet towards 'em 'n' let a proper family sort matters out."
"And the name?"
Osric looked up and over his shoulder at Aya. "Eglantine."
Miss Foxheart was listening intently, of course, though an expression halfway between a friendly smile and slight confusion marred her features. She met Osric’s glance with her own at the mention of the Eglantines. Miss Hisa, however, looked very confused, so he went on.
"...prominent family with long lineage, settled on Vylbrand ages ago. They're some o' the few who could be considered merchant-nobles, if they were Ul'dahn."
"Never heard of them." She stared up at him with a straight and almost unmoving face.
He grunted. "Was worried about that. What would it take t'convince you t'look into the matter 'fore Ul'dahn interests begin t'lose their footholds in Limsa?"
"Who said we have footholds? Ul'dah is a member of the Eorzean Alliance. We respect national boundaries. At the moment, there is but a single ship in Limsa. It is there to protect our interests, but jurisdiction still falls to the Maelstrom."
He didn’t buy her denial, not even for a single moment. That she wasn’t in deep with criminal elements? Passing up profit was not Ul’dahn. That said, he allowed his face to fall even further, as though he were genuinely dismayed.
"Boundaries... o' course you do. Apologies for insinuatin' otherwise. I've... tried to take this to the Maelstrom. They won't hear me out. Too much coin, too much pressure from the thalassocracy."
"And what do you have to say? What proof do you have of your allegations?"
Aya’s seeming confusion manifested again as she asked, "What's the ship doing there, anyway..?"
"It is there to protect my and other Ul'dahn investments, since the Maelstrom is... preoccupied. Something about a mutiny and a hanging."
"From what... unnamed pirates?"
"From renegade pirates, from Sahagin and their Serpent Reavers, and others."
"Rioters, too,†interjected Osric. “The whole o' Limsa is up in arms about this, each 'n' every deck." He shrugged. "Things were... unpleasant, when I left."
"Those Lominsans should hurry up and hang whomever it is, so that everyone can get back to business,†Hisa mused. “A few of my associates were displeased when they learned that the hanging had been delayed."
"Sounds like a normal day in Ul'dah," Aya all but groused.
Osric chuckled. "You asked for proof. I've the pages from the ledger what logged the Gridanian merchantman. Follow the names 'n' the coin long enough, 'n' you'll come to the same conclusions I did. I can't prove that the ceruleum was there... but you'll note that she docked for all of a sun, 'n' for nothin' noteworthy. Not even shore leave; they had plenty o' that huggin' the coast the whole way there."
Miss Hisa held her hand out, and Osric reached into his shirt and pulled forth several loose pages of parchment that looked like they’d been gently ripped from whatever bindings had once held them. He passed them over to her, and then stood in silence as her large eyes scanned the contents.
The pages were, in fact, torn from actual Maelstrom ledgers. The Gridanian vessel was easy to pick out, as the name did not fit the usual conventions for sloops and brigs of Limsa Lominsa. There were accompanying pages that linked the vessel to prominent merchants, fences, servicemen, nobles... to those in high society, it was telling that many of those individuals shared a single association in common. Eglantine.
The information seemed legitimate, and matched the Hyur's claims. There was, as he said, no proof of ceruleum, but the rest was there.
Hisa’s faced remained emotionless as she perused the pages. At last, she looked up. "I see. This is, in fact, authentic. However, there is no mention of ceruleum. Most ceruleum is processed and moved by rail or airship. It would also seem strange that Gridania has a ship registry at all, considering how much wood it would take to build a ship."
"Does, don't it."
"They won't let us poke one of their trees, much less allow others to carve a galleon out of them."
Osric crossed his arms. "There's a field out there somewhere, on the seas. Hells, put aside the ceruleum for a moment. They were clearly there for somethin' o' worth."
.
She gazed up at him and seemed to reflect on that. "And you want my… you want our ship to help you secure it?"
He shook his head "...I'd like your help in seein' to it that Gridania leaves Limsa t'clean up its own mess, free o' interference. Ain't right that the Twelveswood should profit off the turmoil when it's causin' business woes for Ul'dah."
"So you want us to open up discussions with the Twin Adders? Regarding a ceruleum field?"
"Regardin' a field, aye. M'friends seem to think it's out on the east coast somewhere, 'long the Sea o' Jade. The field... 'n' regardin' the Vylbrandi family what forwarded the capital for the venture."
"Under the Eorzean Alliance, if said field exists and disputes arise, it would be treated as a collective resource. At worse, they'll float a platform out there and have each of the Grand Companies maul each other for resources, as they have been doing."
She laughed at the insanity of it all, and Osric smiled.
"That's all we want. Fair shares 'mongst Eorzeans."
"And so.... what do you want me to do?"
"...pull strings? You were the lady we were pointed at, when we approached the Fleet regardin'... y'know."
"I have a lot of strings. Some I can only pull once. Others take a little more force. You need to be more precise, Red Shirt Man."
"A letter of complaint!†Aya looked rather enthused and adamant as she spoke up. “That seems the Ul'dahn way!"
The Lominsan couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that. "Suffice t'say that we'd like you t'look after your own interests. Just so happens that ours coincide, 'n' so I wanted it brought to your attention. What you do with it is up t'you, in the end."
"I suppose so,†said Hisa. “On the other hand, what do you know about a mysterious metal beast that's been prowling around the area?"
Osric's eyes widened a little and he grunted.
Aya’s eyes widened a little, too. "Sounds mysterious!"
"...Garlean-make, 'swhat I hear. Folks shouldn't sail 'long the shorelines o’ Rothlyt Sound. It's why enlistin' the Adder's help would be better, in the end."
"Some drunken sailors from the 'ghost ship' have been spreading rumors,†said Hisa, “and there are whispers from up north about a recent encounter."
Osric smirked again. "Aye. I was there for that."
Aya did not seem convinced. That she didn’t roll her eyes was, in Osric’s opinion, a minor miracle. "Oh yes, ghost sailors and their rumors!"
Hisa looked a little skeptical, but not too skeptical. "... I said it was a beast. You means to tell me... it was a Garlean contraption?"
He shrugged. "What else? Leviathan's been stilled again 'n' again. Damned thing is keen on wreckin' Limsa, not some coastline malms to the north. 'n' besides Llymlaen's Serpent, I can't think o' any other beasts what'd match. Ain't no kraken, that's for certain."
"Is it another of their autonomous machina? A sea serpent-like mammet?"
"It could be some ancient monster..."
Osric shook his head at Aya. "Leanne got a good look at it, 'n' so did I. I trust her eyes, 'n' mine are rarely fooled."
"Would an Allagan monstrosity look any different?â€
"Mayhap it would."
"Who is Leanne?" asked Hisa in the most innocent tone imaginable.
He glanced at the Lalafell. "A friend. Apologies, Miss, 'n' thank you for your precious time. We've other business t'see to, 'n' our own time grows short. If you'll pardon us...?"
She nodded to him, even as she stepped forward and held something up for him to take. She laughed a little as he took it from her and looked it over. A smile lit up his face, and he too nodded.
"You have a very interesting story, Red Shirt Man. I'll be sure to pass it along."
“M'thanks. Nald favor you, Thal look elsewhere, 'n' may your Scales always find their Balance, Miss Hisa."
Miss Hisa motioned to dismiss the two, like a proper pompous rich girl was wont to do.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Madame!"
Hisa nodded to Aya even as the part-time waitress bowed her head politely and offered a partial curtsey.
Osric Melkire led Aya Foxheart back out of Arrazeneth Ossuary and onto the streets. His eyes scanned the shadows as they walked. Soon enough, the clouds overhead proved good on their promise, and their walk turned into a jog as they sought out shelter. The overhand they found wasn’t the most private of spaces, but it would have to serve. He had one final word to share with Aya, with regards to this business, and it was important.
The man who’d once been Dirk Problemsolver was fairly certain that, at some point or another during his youth, he’d taken on at least one job -- one mark -- at least one contract that had either been drafted for or else requested by Eamon Eglantine. He’d never been able to prove it, but it seemed far too coincidental that, every so often, he’d hear rumors that the reclusive family had somehow benefited from the mysterious disappearance or the untimely passing of so-and-so, wasn’t it a shame, too bad so sad. So he was familiar, to an extent, with how careful and how shrewd the head of household could be.
If the Eglantines truly were involved, then they needed to be taken off the board before they could make matters any worse than they already had. He had no confidence in his ability to persuade, threaten, bribe, blackmail, or otherwise influence Eamon. It would have to be Edda, his daughter, that they appealed to, and they would have to hold fast to hope that she’d be able to convince her father to change course. Osric showing up on the family’s doorstep himself was sure to cause a scandal… so he’d send Aya, if she was willing.
It turned out that she was.
This sun was no different. Mages scurried this way and that across the floor, and a line of supplicants eager to devote their souls -- and their gil -- to Nald could be seen standing before his effigy. The guards at the doors looked him and his companion over; there were a few raised eyebrows and some shifting of feet, but they allowed Osric Melkire to pass, and the Lominsan led Aya Foxheart inside. At least they were no longer out in the open; dark clouds had blanketed the sky all sun long, and they promised an inevitable deluge of rain.
“Hisa,†he said to her as they moved further in. “Was all the man gave me. No description… but it sounds ‘fellin.â€
Hisa had, in fact, been the name he’d been given when he’d approached the captain helming the Golden Fleet vessel. He’d been shocked to recognize a galleon of Ul’dah in La Noscean waters, and given the circumstances he’d felt obliged to inquire after their business there. Alas, he’d been turned away and told that he’d have more luck speaking to an official if he wanted to know anything about their orders.
“That or Doman….â€
That drew him up short; he’d been about to retort, but on second thought she had a valid point.
“Hadn’t thought o’ that, I must admit.†He chuckled. “See? Knew bringin’ you was a good idea.â€
She nodded at him. He grinned at her, so she beamed back. “Of course it was!â€
They ended up spending the better part of a tenth-bell asking around; Lalafell were the most populous race in Ul’dah, rivaled only by the Hyur; that distribution was even more apparent here in the microcosm that was the Ossuary. At last, though, they found themselves in one of the far back corners of the main chamber, looking down at….
Her lalafellin ears perked up as they approached, and she turned towards them. Her dress was not at all modest compared to the adepts that bustled about; the garments were decidedly Near Eastern in appearance, and the turban that covered her head and veiled her face looked thick and expensive.
“Ah.†Osric pulled up short again. “Excuse me, s--â€
He paused as he noted the dress. Dress. Not a robe, not a vest with slops or breeches, not leathers… a dress. A revealing one, in fact.
"And who might you be?"
"...'pologies, miss, but I was pointed 'ere t'ask after a Madam or Miss Hisa? We've come a long way, m'friend 'n' I...."
He bowed to her, even as the Lalafell turned to regard him. Aya cocked her hips as she settled into a resting pose. The blonde winked playfully to the little woman with a knowing grin.
"I am Miss Hisa. What does a ill-dressed man needs with me? And you must be Miss Aya Foxheart. Far from the Quicksand, are you?"
"--ahh,†Osric glanced over his shoulder at Aya. “Shite, you been back that long? Thought mayhap y'came straight from Limsa, same as I did...."
Aya glanced back at him. "Ah! I've been back and forth so much lately! But Madame Momodi doesn't let me miss every shift!"
The Lominsan rolled his eyes and turned back to Miss Hisa. "We were hopin' t'inquire after the Golden Fleet's interest in current on-goin's on Vylbrand."
Miss Hisa stared at them in silence for a moment or two. "What do you need? We're only protecting our interests in the region. As you may know, Ul'dah does not share a peaceful history with the dirty pirates of Limsa."
Osric's lips twitched. "No... no, they don't."
"Then it would be reasonable for Ul'dah to protect her own coin and countrymen, as well as her fellow member of the Eorzean Alliance."
The woman sneered up at him. It was barely visible, given the veil, but it was there. It showed in her tone, as well, which made it impossible to miss… but he let it pass without comment, and only nodded. Aya, however, seemed to be fighting to hold onto a warm smile as she asked--
"Protect from what, Madame?"
Hisa looked over at the woman, "From renegade pirates and scum. The admiral can barely control her own hounds, much less the wild wolves that prowl the Sea of Jade. Suns ago, a few pirates decided to lay themselves down in front of Syndicate investments in Costa." She frowned deeply, and then that frown twisted into another sneer. "Of course, that problem was apparently dealt with."
"Yeah...?" Aya’s eyes opened a little wider. "What happened?"
"Heard about this,†said Osric. “Some ghost ship settled matters, aye?"
"Yes,†said Hisa. “A most intrepid 'pirate', typical of the lot. Saw his chance to make a name and blew the other pirate to the Traders’ Realm."
"That sounds so familiar...!†Aya seemed genuinely interested. “But that wasn't a Golden Fleet ghost ship was it...?"
"I've heard this is a common means of 'succession' among the pirate folk,†said Hisa. “And no, it was not."
"Nahhh,†said Osric, “some folks've been claimin' it was the Revenge. But that's hogwash. Damned thing doesn't exist."
Hisa stared up at Aya for a moment. "The captain was named Simb'a Fuckintia, if I recall."
It took all of Osric’s not-so-inconsiderable willpower to keep a straight face as he turned back to Hisa and bowed again. "Puttin' aside the matter o' Seeker scum, miss, we were actually lookin' t'help, in a manner o' speakin'."
"In what way?" The Lalafellin woman looked agitated.
Aya blinked, and looked a little as if she'd missed something entirely, "So pirates dealt with the pirate problem.. and the Golden Fleet is... dealing.. with.. the pirates...?"
"The Golden Fleet deals with Ul'dahn investments,†Hisa explained. “We cannot allow shipments… we cannot allow our trade to be jeopardized."
Aya looked a little satisfied with that for the moment, if not entirely so, so Osric grunted and barged onward.
"Have it on good authority.. 'n' not the Admiralty's kind--" He sneered at the mere thought of Merlwyb. "--that a shipment o' ceruleum was delivered t'Limsa not too long ago. The independents who claimed 'n' paid for the lot... well... records 'n' logs have 'em as Gridanians."
"And?" Hisa sneered at him again. She seemed overly fond of sneering. He was tempted to warn her that her face would freeze that way. He didn’t. "You still haven't told me exactly what you are asking for, Mister... Red Shirt?"
Osric waved his hands, idly musing for a moment on how many folk seemed inclined to identify him by his clothes rather than his features. "Now hold on, let me explain, aye? Might've been born a son o' Limsa, but I grew t'love the Jewel. I don't want trouble brewin' between the two of 'em, but someone's seen fit t'smuggle ceruleum from some new field somewhere onto Vylbrand 'n' then off to the Twelveswood. Is it truly in the best interests o' Ul'dah for Gridania t'come to the fore? Think of it: another field out there somewhere, t'rival the rivers 'n' deposits o' Northern Thanalan...."
Miss Hisa, thank the gods, finally looked a little interested. He sighed with relief.
"Ain't good. Ain't good at all. No profit. Missed opportunities, 'n' swellin' rivals."
"And what do you propose, Mister Red Shirt…?"
He smiled. "Tracked down the name o' the family what owns the venture. Figure I'd point the Golden Fleet towards 'em 'n' let a proper family sort matters out."
"And the name?"
Osric looked up and over his shoulder at Aya. "Eglantine."
Miss Foxheart was listening intently, of course, though an expression halfway between a friendly smile and slight confusion marred her features. She met Osric’s glance with her own at the mention of the Eglantines. Miss Hisa, however, looked very confused, so he went on.
"...prominent family with long lineage, settled on Vylbrand ages ago. They're some o' the few who could be considered merchant-nobles, if they were Ul'dahn."
"Never heard of them." She stared up at him with a straight and almost unmoving face.
He grunted. "Was worried about that. What would it take t'convince you t'look into the matter 'fore Ul'dahn interests begin t'lose their footholds in Limsa?"
"Who said we have footholds? Ul'dah is a member of the Eorzean Alliance. We respect national boundaries. At the moment, there is but a single ship in Limsa. It is there to protect our interests, but jurisdiction still falls to the Maelstrom."
He didn’t buy her denial, not even for a single moment. That she wasn’t in deep with criminal elements? Passing up profit was not Ul’dahn. That said, he allowed his face to fall even further, as though he were genuinely dismayed.
"Boundaries... o' course you do. Apologies for insinuatin' otherwise. I've... tried to take this to the Maelstrom. They won't hear me out. Too much coin, too much pressure from the thalassocracy."
"And what do you have to say? What proof do you have of your allegations?"
Aya’s seeming confusion manifested again as she asked, "What's the ship doing there, anyway..?"
"It is there to protect my and other Ul'dahn investments, since the Maelstrom is... preoccupied. Something about a mutiny and a hanging."
"From what... unnamed pirates?"
"From renegade pirates, from Sahagin and their Serpent Reavers, and others."
"Rioters, too,†interjected Osric. “The whole o' Limsa is up in arms about this, each 'n' every deck." He shrugged. "Things were... unpleasant, when I left."
"Those Lominsans should hurry up and hang whomever it is, so that everyone can get back to business,†Hisa mused. “A few of my associates were displeased when they learned that the hanging had been delayed."
"Sounds like a normal day in Ul'dah," Aya all but groused.
Osric chuckled. "You asked for proof. I've the pages from the ledger what logged the Gridanian merchantman. Follow the names 'n' the coin long enough, 'n' you'll come to the same conclusions I did. I can't prove that the ceruleum was there... but you'll note that she docked for all of a sun, 'n' for nothin' noteworthy. Not even shore leave; they had plenty o' that huggin' the coast the whole way there."
Miss Hisa held her hand out, and Osric reached into his shirt and pulled forth several loose pages of parchment that looked like they’d been gently ripped from whatever bindings had once held them. He passed them over to her, and then stood in silence as her large eyes scanned the contents.
The pages were, in fact, torn from actual Maelstrom ledgers. The Gridanian vessel was easy to pick out, as the name did not fit the usual conventions for sloops and brigs of Limsa Lominsa. There were accompanying pages that linked the vessel to prominent merchants, fences, servicemen, nobles... to those in high society, it was telling that many of those individuals shared a single association in common. Eglantine.
The information seemed legitimate, and matched the Hyur's claims. There was, as he said, no proof of ceruleum, but the rest was there.
Hisa’s faced remained emotionless as she perused the pages. At last, she looked up. "I see. This is, in fact, authentic. However, there is no mention of ceruleum. Most ceruleum is processed and moved by rail or airship. It would also seem strange that Gridania has a ship registry at all, considering how much wood it would take to build a ship."
"Does, don't it."
"They won't let us poke one of their trees, much less allow others to carve a galleon out of them."
Osric crossed his arms. "There's a field out there somewhere, on the seas. Hells, put aside the ceruleum for a moment. They were clearly there for somethin' o' worth."
.
She gazed up at him and seemed to reflect on that. "And you want my… you want our ship to help you secure it?"
He shook his head "...I'd like your help in seein' to it that Gridania leaves Limsa t'clean up its own mess, free o' interference. Ain't right that the Twelveswood should profit off the turmoil when it's causin' business woes for Ul'dah."
"So you want us to open up discussions with the Twin Adders? Regarding a ceruleum field?"
"Regardin' a field, aye. M'friends seem to think it's out on the east coast somewhere, 'long the Sea o' Jade. The field... 'n' regardin' the Vylbrandi family what forwarded the capital for the venture."
"Under the Eorzean Alliance, if said field exists and disputes arise, it would be treated as a collective resource. At worse, they'll float a platform out there and have each of the Grand Companies maul each other for resources, as they have been doing."
She laughed at the insanity of it all, and Osric smiled.
"That's all we want. Fair shares 'mongst Eorzeans."
"And so.... what do you want me to do?"
"...pull strings? You were the lady we were pointed at, when we approached the Fleet regardin'... y'know."
"I have a lot of strings. Some I can only pull once. Others take a little more force. You need to be more precise, Red Shirt Man."
"A letter of complaint!†Aya looked rather enthused and adamant as she spoke up. “That seems the Ul'dahn way!"
The Lominsan couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that. "Suffice t'say that we'd like you t'look after your own interests. Just so happens that ours coincide, 'n' so I wanted it brought to your attention. What you do with it is up t'you, in the end."
"I suppose so,†said Hisa. “On the other hand, what do you know about a mysterious metal beast that's been prowling around the area?"
Osric's eyes widened a little and he grunted.
Aya’s eyes widened a little, too. "Sounds mysterious!"
"...Garlean-make, 'swhat I hear. Folks shouldn't sail 'long the shorelines o’ Rothlyt Sound. It's why enlistin' the Adder's help would be better, in the end."
"Some drunken sailors from the 'ghost ship' have been spreading rumors,†said Hisa, “and there are whispers from up north about a recent encounter."
Osric smirked again. "Aye. I was there for that."
Aya did not seem convinced. That she didn’t roll her eyes was, in Osric’s opinion, a minor miracle. "Oh yes, ghost sailors and their rumors!"
Hisa looked a little skeptical, but not too skeptical. "... I said it was a beast. You means to tell me... it was a Garlean contraption?"
He shrugged. "What else? Leviathan's been stilled again 'n' again. Damned thing is keen on wreckin' Limsa, not some coastline malms to the north. 'n' besides Llymlaen's Serpent, I can't think o' any other beasts what'd match. Ain't no kraken, that's for certain."
"Is it another of their autonomous machina? A sea serpent-like mammet?"
"It could be some ancient monster..."
Osric shook his head at Aya. "Leanne got a good look at it, 'n' so did I. I trust her eyes, 'n' mine are rarely fooled."
"Would an Allagan monstrosity look any different?â€
"Mayhap it would."
"Who is Leanne?" asked Hisa in the most innocent tone imaginable.
He glanced at the Lalafell. "A friend. Apologies, Miss, 'n' thank you for your precious time. We've other business t'see to, 'n' our own time grows short. If you'll pardon us...?"
She nodded to him, even as she stepped forward and held something up for him to take. She laughed a little as he took it from her and looked it over. A smile lit up his face, and he too nodded.
"You have a very interesting story, Red Shirt Man. I'll be sure to pass it along."
“M'thanks. Nald favor you, Thal look elsewhere, 'n' may your Scales always find their Balance, Miss Hisa."
Miss Hisa motioned to dismiss the two, like a proper pompous rich girl was wont to do.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Madame!"
Hisa nodded to Aya even as the part-time waitress bowed her head politely and offered a partial curtsey.
Osric Melkire led Aya Foxheart back out of Arrazeneth Ossuary and onto the streets. His eyes scanned the shadows as they walked. Soon enough, the clouds overhead proved good on their promise, and their walk turned into a jog as they sought out shelter. The overhand they found wasn’t the most private of spaces, but it would have to serve. He had one final word to share with Aya, with regards to this business, and it was important.
The man who’d once been Dirk Problemsolver was fairly certain that, at some point or another during his youth, he’d taken on at least one job -- one mark -- at least one contract that had either been drafted for or else requested by Eamon Eglantine. He’d never been able to prove it, but it seemed far too coincidental that, every so often, he’d hear rumors that the reclusive family had somehow benefited from the mysterious disappearance or the untimely passing of so-and-so, wasn’t it a shame, too bad so sad. So he was familiar, to an extent, with how careful and how shrewd the head of household could be.
If the Eglantines truly were involved, then they needed to be taken off the board before they could make matters any worse than they already had. He had no confidence in his ability to persuade, threaten, bribe, blackmail, or otherwise influence Eamon. It would have to be Edda, his daughter, that they appealed to, and they would have to hold fast to hope that she’d be able to convince her father to change course. Osric showing up on the family’s doorstep himself was sure to cause a scandal… so he’d send Aya, if she was willing.
It turned out that she was.
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