RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Berrod Armstrong · **12-03-2014, 09:53 AM**

"Yer an ambitious bugger, I'll give you that."

The straw-haired Highlander sat upon a crate, perilously near to the sharp drop off of Highbridge. He didn't seem bothered at all by it, however -- clearly it was something he did frequently enough to have been accustomed. Berrod Armstrong stood nearby with arms folded, dressed in his usual black leathers. The wind carried the slight musk of exertion off into the canyon -- it had been a longer trip from Little Ala Mhigo than he had thought. "Who else would do it?" He asked calmly.

"Who else? Hells if I know, but people aren't just gonna bow and scrape and thank ye fer savin' them. You better'n most know how proud those bastards get." There was a note of derision in the other Highlander's tone, but he kept it minimal for Berrod's sake. "Besides. That's too big. Way too big. Yer jus' street dirt refugee trash, Berry. That's all anybody is gonna bring up when ya make yer move. An' what about that company ye got huh? Ye gonna use that as a front fer what ye got planned?"

The red-haired man shook his head. "No, it's not going to be like that. I have my responsibilities there, and I take them seriously. I don't intend to use them for my purposes and if I do, I'll make sure they're paid from my own pocket." He paused and folded his arms across his broad chest. "But the influence is useful. I'll definitely use it to as collateral when I'm ready."

A cold breeze swept up from the canyon, whipping the tied tail at the back of Berrod's head. The other Highlander experienced a much less orderly sweeping of his straw-colored locks. When the wind died down, the poor fellow had to brush the coarse strands from in front of his tanned face. "Ye can't do it by yerself," He warned.Â

"Which is why I'll rally them around me. It's about high time that we united, don't you think?" The other man's action caused him to unconsciously run his hand through his own hair, "The enemy can't be driven out by scattered, prideful and begrudging fools who cling to what is lost. We need to build anew, acquire the aid of allies, and then push forward. Abandon hopes of taking back what is no longer there. We will take what -is- there, raze it, and build anew. The first step is getting people to see that, one at a time."

"That'll take lifetimes, Berrod -- it's crazy."

"Which is why I ought to start when I'm young."

"It'll never happen."

"Only if I don't try."

Another gust of wind harrassed them, rendering them in a silent arrangement of agreed disagreement. "I want the best for our people as anyone else, Berrod but --"Â

"Then join me. Help me."

The other Highlander quieted for a moment before he mumbled meekly, "I'm okay where I am. I got a wife now, and two lil' pickneys ta feed. I found me a life."

It was Berrod's turn to remain quiet -- his expression was impassive, and gave off the impression of being hewn of solid stone. Finally, he spoke and turned on a heel. "I see. I won't take up any more of your time. I need to go find my ward and head back to Ul'Dah."

As he left, the other Highlander tossed a plea behind the leather-harnessed back. "Berrod -- jus' remember this. Ye got it good now. Settle down an' live yer life. Yer jus' a normal fella. Men like you ain't meant fer greatness. Jus' stay normal. Goin' after somethin' so big is gonna bring everybody down on ya before it even gets off the ground. Think o'yerself."

The departing highlander stopped and turned his head slightly, not to face the other, but only to grant a sliver of his profile. "I do think of myself, Berndulf. And I want my homeland back."

cuideag · **12-03-2014, 02:20 PM**

"Perhaps I understand what it is to be hunted. But that is not why I am here."

Her quill rolled between her fingers. In more glorious days she was quicker, nimble, as much at ease with a blade as then pen that was so often her weapon of choice lately. The choices laid before her were simple. They had to be, else she risk hesitation. There was no doubt in her mind that her good fortune of evading the wrath of the law would one day run out.

May as well be suicide, she thought, This life as Sultansworn. "An easy scapegoat," she had told Ser Crofte, and she had meant every word. She was just as she said the most visible target in the game. As long as she remained in question, as long as Taeros held her leash, she stood in perfect position to burn for the error of her peers.

"What I propose is a race."

The more she pondered on it, the more ridiculous it seemed. How could anyone bury themselves so deeply and yet remain so completely unaware? The choice seemed obvious. In the silence of her room, Delial snickered before she sighed and gave her quill a quick dab of ink.Â

"May the better woman win," Ser Crofte had said as she departed. It was true that Delial respected her fellow Highlander for what she tried to do. Of all the Sultansworn bar one she had met, Coatleque irritated her the least. In some small way, she wanted to sympathize.

It took every fiber of self-discipline she had not to laugh in her presence.

Dogberry · **12-03-2014, 03:07 PM**

First patrol. His feet clank rhythmically against the cobblestone streets of Upper Limsa Lominsa. It's raining, but the hat and Maelstrom coat keep him reasonably insulated and dry. This is a new thing for Dogberry, being on this side of the law. Part of the new deal he worked out with the Maelstrom. They assist with the primal job, he gives them the fruit of whatever that job turns out to be. To keep him close, they posted him on foot patrols like he's some kind of yellowjacket. Whatever, so long as he gets to keep his ship.

"How's yer ma?" a passerby asks. Some punk kid, hoping to get a rise out of him. Dogberry just laughs. Limsa's still such a pirate town the police get no respect around here. The puzzled kid goes on his way, and Dogberry goes on his, checking through The Drowning Wench to check on things there. Maybe have a shot and a beer.

He hears a commotion as he approaches. Shouting voices. Chairs scuffing against the ground as people stand and push their chairs back. He's been at this just over an hour and already he's seeing action. He steps into the bar, finally out of this rain, and into the fray as one Roegadyn man holds another bent over the table, pressing his face against the surface. A Lalafell man is repeatedly kicking the poor sod's head while he's down. Dogberry slips on his brass knuckles and steps up behind the nasty business. He clears his throat. The Lalafell stops kicking long enough to look up.

"Looks like he's had enough, mate," Dogberry says casually. "Let him up now and we can all get back to our drinkin' aye?"

"Sod off," the Lalafell says. "This don't concern you!"

"I'm afraid it does, see, bein' as this breaks the law an' all," Dogberry says. This time the Roegadyn lets go and turns around. He remains silent, trying to stare Dogberry down.

"Law's not all that's gonna be broke here you don't run off and hide behind the Admiral's skirt," The Roegadyn says finally. The Lalafell laughs.

"You got a point," Dogberry says, and kicks out at the perp's knee, making it bend the wrong way. The Roegadyn howls in pain briefly until a right hook connects with his temple and sends him like a sack of popotos to the floor. The victim, the one with his head on the table, panics and does a tuck and roll out of the way. Dogberry produces a pair of manacles from his belt and cuffs the unconscious Roegadyn. By the time he looks up, the Lalafell is gone. Dogberry puts a hand to his ear, pressing a linkpearl into it.

"We got one needs pickin' up at the Wench," Dogberry says. "Bring a wheelbarrow, he ain't walkin'. I'm in pursuit of a Lallafell, male, about three and a quarter fulms, brown hair, red shirt."

Dogberry took off walking in the direction the victim was pointing. He nodded in thanks, taking his time getting where he's going. No need to run, he thought. He'll find him eventually. Walk these streets long enough, you'll find any damn thing if you know where to look.

MikoBehnen · **12-04-2014, 09:26 AM**

((I'm not entirely sure how you guys deal with this here but... Possible TW: Suffocation))

It was a beautiful night. The moon had never been a favorite view of hers, preferring the warmth of the sun, but despite the chill it was quite lovely. Perhaps she would go home and make a nice cup of tea, something spicy to go with her mood. She had a new blend of chai sheâ€™d been meaning to try, and a friend of hers had recommended using spiced milk in it for an extra kick which sounded perfect.

She shifted her position slightly and through the thin curtains caught a glimpse of a couple laughing, walking hand in hand down the street. It was so nice to see people happy. She let her mind wander and started making up stories about the pair while she worked. They had met when they ran into each other in the streets of Ulâ€™dah. She had been chasing a dog and he had been reading a book and theyâ€™d fallen in love at first sight. Theyâ€™d become bonded in the middle of winter, their ceremony surrounded by snow. They had a child a year later and he was a handful. He liked frogs and cheese and pancakes and... Miko sat up slightly and wondered why she had just made the couple's imaginary child a young male version of herself. She grunted as something hit her side and leaned forward again, putting more weight on her hands. Maybe she was projecting her desire for a family on this poor anonymous couple who had been walking by. She knew she had family issues, she had worked that out in her own mind while eating a bowl of soup one day, but she wasnâ€™t used to so obviously putting herself in her own daydreams. Though it was night time, she reminded herself. Does that mean it was night dreaming? She wasnâ€™t asleep however. What would one call a daydream at night? Perhaps she could give it a fun name like a dazzle, or an eveningâ€¦ something. Sheâ€™d have to ponder that issue when she got home and settled down with her tea. Perhaps sheâ€™d also make a cake. She put more weight into her knee, leaning over a bit more for balance and tightening her grip. Miko had never been fond of sweets but recent events had made her reconsider that particular aversion, and she did like strawberries. She blushed at that quick flash of memory and glanced back out the window, curtains softly swaying in the night breeze. She had some new fruit from the market in her sack on her chocobo outside, she could likely make something with that. One of her friends would need to teach her how to bake however.

Her job finally done, she looked down at the now lifeless body beneath her. She removed the pillow from her target's face and gave him a quick pat on the head.

â€œIâ€™m sorry. That was likely unpleasant, but I was told you werenâ€™t a very nice man and did bad things to children.â€

Sheâ€™d leave the window open and let the cool air in so when his housekeeper found him in the morning he wouldnâ€™t stink. With a slight frown, she pried the manâ€™s mouth open and removed the feathers that had stuck in his teeth when heâ€™d bit the pillow covering his face. The pillow was shoved in her bag along with a mental note that she'd need and new one now, and a single silver painted gil was placed on the man's tongue. Silver's stupid, pointless calling card.Scanning the room to make sure she did not leave any sign of her visit other than the man's current state, Miko climbed back out the window and skipped over to her waiting mount. Now she could go home to her tea and cakes, and debate on what a waking dream at night would be called. It really was a beautiful evening.

Gegenji · **12-04-2014, 10:34 AM**

Chachanji sneezed, kicking up a small powdery cloud of white around him.

The Lalafell moved to wipe at his nose with his forearm, but remembered how doing that had just caused this sneeze to quickly follow after the last one. He stared at his upraised arm, where a light snowy dust still clung here and there along with a more sizable alabaster smear near his wrist, before re-purposing the motion into opening the door to his room instead. This left a faint ivory hand-print on the brass knob, to add to the almost imperceptible same-hue trail that led back down and out of the Hourglass. Chachanji's lower lip jutted out slightly into an unconscious pout as Momodi's laughter about his current state rose unbidden to his mind.

"What happened to you?" she had asked, one corner of her mouth hiked up into a bemused grin. Chachan had done his best to divest himself of his white coating after the accident, but enough had stubbornly clung to him to catch the eye of the Quicksand's owner when he returned. He had looked himself over, noting where the pearly clumps of powder defiantly held on. He had harrumphed and brushed at some of the larger bits with his hand, sending an artificial snow floating gently to the tavern floor. Momodi was not one to let the matter lie, though, continuing with a lighthearted: "Didja get in a fight with a baker?"

Despite his obvious fluster and embarrassment, Chachanji managed to explain why he was suddenly shedding so much alabaster. He had been helping one of the vendors on the Exchange pack up after a day's work. The Hyur woman's wares consisted mostly of culinary supplies like spices and such, including a hefty bag of flour that the Lalafell had wound up toting back to her section of a local warehouse. He had tried to ease it up on top of a crate a fair bit taller than him. It had tipped and, well...

That's when he had learned that there had been a tear in that bag. The sudden flour shower and the white cloud that erupted afterward quickly caught the eye of the vendor, who ended up being more upset over the loss of the flour rather than her helper's well-being. Fortunately, such materialistic concerns were easily rectified with gil, and the apologetic Lalafell had departed with his coin pouch quite a bit lighter than he had entered. And his lovely snowy coating.

With a smile and a laugh, Momodi had sent him off into the Hourglass to clean up, and that was what lead to him trudging into his room trailing sprinkles of flour behind him. His cheeks felt hot with shame, making his freckles stand out even more beneath his unintended blush alternative. The number of visible freckles had always a good sign of how embarrassed Chachanji was, and his constant toil out under the Thanalan sun had added quite a few more to the collection. A vast dusting of self-disappointment that complemented the light dusting of flour quite nicely.

As the Lalafell puttered past the provided bed, Gran looked up lazily from his perch atop the pillow. He gave an inquisitive snort, caught a nose of loose powder, and sneezed once himself. The light pawing at his snout in an attempt to get the tickle out before a second sneeze shook his petite purple person got a small chuckle out of Chachanji, at least. It was in that slightly lightened mood that he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the inn room window.

While most of the flour had been removed through shaking, walking, and brushing, there was still enough hanging on to still be noticeable. Well, that much was obvious considering how quickly Ms. Momodi had picked up on it, but he also noticed that it wasn't just his clothes that had a decent bit of artificial frosting on it. A large amount of flour still clung to his jade-hued hair, giving him a look not unlike a pine tree in winter. And, to the Lalafell's surprise... he kinda liked how it looked.

A few bells later, Chachanji was washed up, cheered up, and sporting a less flour-based change to his hair. How festive!

Show Content

DoomsdayClock · **12-05-2014, 02:28 PM**

The massive red coated frame stood before that small house by the waterfall, The Jewel of the Desert. After such a long night of talks with Ameline Valtin, Iron had followed a trail of memories that lead him to that place once more. He had walked the halls, pressed hands to the walls...he had spoke of Nat, of Franz...of Kage..of Honzo..and realized that for a time it felt like those days were a lifetime away.
But time had not forgotten them. The structure still stood, and the memories of their voices still held within the stone.
That night had brought him to the parchment he held within his hand, lens hidden eyes reading the words carefully, over and over.
Jewel of the Desert, purchased and now held by Iron Sea. Kneeling down he plucked the for sale sign from the earth and tucked it under one arm, as he strode over to the placard and traced a metal gloved finger over the names. This would remain, her name, their names, the cheerful greeting. He would preserve the memory, make sure these halls found new strays in need of shelter and compassion. It was in his own way, some small service to the woman who had given him so much. It was the right thing to do, to even be able to truly move forward.
His coffers were empty now, Lady Edda was gone back to her father, his job ended. The coin had all fell into this last attempt to hold onto something dear. He gazed off at that waterfall, as he had so many times before with friends and allies, and smiled faintly.
" I'll keep the cannons Nat, figure you would want it this way...."

Jancis · **12-05-2014, 04:09 PM**

Resolution of the avalanche.
http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread....#pid124678

Jancis showered, keeping a tub under her feet and soaking in the makeshift bath she had created from it in the hot water. It was a luxury.

Things could not have gone better, she felt, once she saw Sigurd's face lit up in the tunnel of snow.Â

The other two scouts were injured, but recovering. The lalafel had a minor case of frostbite, but was successfully rescued from the mothering goobue without injury to anyone, including the monstrously large creature. The elezen had a broken shoulder and arm from clambering away from the hungry wolves, which were chased away as the man was recovered. The other two with Jancis were fine, huddled together for warmth as they waited for rescue.

Along with Master Sigurd were other familiar faces, all responding to the call over the linkpearl. He was appropriately dressed in his typical robes, hands wrapped and unnaturally hot from channeling aether to dig through snow. His composure in the possible crisis was admirable.

Master Franz was there, his clothes tattered and ill-prepared for the snow. Surely he was compensating for the lack of layers with his own abilities. A little struck from the encounters, he was more stoic and intimidating which worked to the small advantage of keeping the wolves at bay as the broken elezen was rescued, a comforting sort with the ability to speak in the man's native language.

Another smaller lalafell, dressed in Flame's coat, was there soothing wounds and helping to keep the biting winds at bay. Jancis failed to recognize the man, but she heard the name Kupel given to him. Very supportive to people he had only just met in their time of need, she admired and was grateful for his assistance. As soon as everyone was safe, the man was gone after a quick joke about wanting an ice cream treat.

Finecia, the strong highlander woman, was one of the first to answer Jancis' call for help. She was strong and confident, keeping her cool at the feet of a humongous goobue and even had the tack to lure and draw the creature away to rescue one of the others. Tending to the wounded until they were taken by the healers at the Observatorium; and kept everyone on track as time slipped away, crucial time that Halone's furious cold was eating quickly.

R'lexia, her size truly not showing her true might, was pivotal in finding not only the wounded elezen, but finding Jancis and the other two lumber-workers trapped under the snow. Her dress was less than appropriate, many openings in her clothes and thin layers more meant for the shelter of the forest. But her mind was sharper than her sword, clattering to scare the majority of wolves away and having the foresight to demand help from the locals. Without her and Finecia there was sure to be casualties.

Iron had heard Jancis and came from the far reaches of the Mist with great haste, despite his own troubles. She had not seen him since the encounter with Cici, but his visage was welcome and encouraging as he held the way for Jancis and the others to escape their small unstable snow pocket. She couldn't hold onto his armor hard enough, even if it was packed with snow and water. He had no sense of direction, absolutely none, and in his haste had caused a disturbance with the Ixal, surely their losses to be felt by the locals later on, had sunk into the snow chasing the wolves, had been completely passed over - literally - luring the goobue away. But he had come out from his own pains and torment for Jancis which truly mattered. And even as everyone was safe, he moved on with purpose and leaving the inn first.Â

Wrapped up in extra layers, Jancis rested in her own bed. She was grateful; it could not have gone better.

Kage · **12-05-2014, 06:02 PM**

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

His breathing matched the little bellows of oxygen he fed the coals as he worked the metal over. He wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his gloved hand wielding the hammer before he brought it down, striking the hot piece of metal. He worked it over. Again and again. The process had become one he found familiarity and comfort. Not unlike the blunt strikes he'd taken to using while fighting with a large broadsword. Not unlike the axe swings he'd started to take his anger out on, though clumsy as they were. He'd started to collect the resources needed for his coal. Blue and red hair fell across his face. He didn't pay it any attention until he had time away from working the metal. He swiftly pulled it back under the bandana holding his hair back and continued to work.

His isolated, large home was serving him decently... His business in creating works of steel was only a fledgling out of his basement workshop. But once he started... He growled in anger and frustration as Kage realized some of his imperfections in his work. He wouldn't be able to get the wooden handle polished and fitted well. The knife was a ruin.

At one point Kage had thought about leaving the Jewel forever. Leaving Ul'dah behind. Perhaps returning to his family estate but no... this was his home. No matter how much he felt like it was a dark bane, it was still his home. Kiz was here too. But... He'd had to leave the place he had bought and made his home. He could not live there anymore. Everything hurt too much and he'd decided that the best way to have it not hurt as much was to lock that outside of his life. Perhaps it would work, but his nights were still filled with nightmares and demons. He'd taken to carrying his axe into the city, not willing to have those nightmares become daymares.

No matter anyway. His [smithing] master had told Kage it was up to himself finish his learning. But from whom? Where would he find another master anyway?

Aris · **12-08-2014, 07:14 PM**

(( I planned on submitting this as an open RP thread, but my nerves have gotten the better of me. This is the first time posting anything publicly, I hope it's okay. ))

As Aris trekked towards The Weeping Saint, fully geared with lance on back and fists wrapped, she considered what Haurchefant had told her.

"..Weâ€™ve had several reports of sightings of the beast..no exact location but it seems to move in pattern..giving locals more reason to be nervous..Iâ€™ve sent patrols out but no luck..one person confirmed missing and, well, Iâ€™m beginning to fear the worst.."
Â
Well, it wasnâ€™t the most heartening assembly sheâ€™d had with Haurchefant, that was for sure.
Â Â
She pulled the furs further up around her face, stopping to take in her position. If she continued at this pace she should be an hour away from the grotto, and judging by the light it was late afternoon. If,Â ifÂ she found the beast, would she even have any chance against it? Perhaps if it's smaller, but the Knight couldnâ€™t confirm its size. He couldnâ€™t confirm any details, in fact.

As is usually the way with rumors.
Â
She sighed and continued to trudge through the snow. She hated the cold. Perhaps it was her fatherâ€™s Seeker blood in her, or perhaps simply because it was so damn uncomfortable and inconvenient. Only twice had she visited Coerthas and each time she had been on an assignment, staying in the Fort of Whitebrim Front. Not quite as welcoming as The Drowning Wench perhaps, but at least it had huge, warm, fires..
Â
It was as she daydreamt about sitting in the warmth that she realised how wrong this task was for her. She never daydreamed in the middle of an operation. She never allowed herself to be caught off guard. In a location she didn't know, she was already making mistakes and it had barely even started. Doubt crept up on her and she halted, trying to get her mind back on track.Â

This was going to be an interesting mission indeed.

Coatleque · **12-09-2014, 10:49 AM**

The prisoner backed away to the far wall of her cell, clutching her chamber pot as the only weapon available as the Sultansworn and the Brass Blade Captain squared off in the hallway beyond the bars. His look was one of rage at being denied his own wishes. Her's a look of bitter annoyance at yet one more crook trying to circumvent her authority.

Stepping up close to her and with a lowered voice he hissed, "You should be nicer to me. We have the same friends, you and I."

Her voice lowered to the same level yet carried a hint of smugness. "Do we? I heard differently."
She cleared her throat, speaking so all present could hear again. "Have a pleasant trip, Captain Anduron."

He blinked in surprise at her comment before his expression turned hateful. Their shoulders connected violently as he shoved his way past her before turning with a pause. "He does not precisely speak in glowing terms of you either, in certain fashions. I suppose practice does not make perfect." With that, Anden Anduron strode away, hands clenched.

She stared at him with mouth agape in disbelief for a moment before she was able to compose herself again.
"Good DAY Sir!"

Melodia · **12-09-2014, 01:27 PM**

The deckhand,Â a weary-looking male Miqo'te,Â finished unloading the cargo from the ship and and with tired hands looked to the tall Hyur, an older man with gray hair, who stood looking out over the ocean he'd just escaped from.

"Sir...all of it's been taken off. Yer settled." The voice of the deckhand was trembling and more than a bit weary.

With a glance back over his shoulder and a warm smile touching his lips, the Hyur replied, "Settled you say? As in 'Everything is in its proper place, sir' settled? All I see is a pile of boxes sitting on a dock. Thaeus, go and fetch me your deck chief." His voice was pleasing to the ears, but deep in tone.

As the deckhand scrambled off to the get the deck chief from the vessel, the man continued looking back at the boxes before scanning the city-scape before him of Limsa Lominsa with a smirk. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and heard in the distance a set of footsteps, heavy stomps heading from the vessel to the dock.

"Aye, sir, boy says ye needed me?" The chill night air made his gruff voice seem to echo across the surface of the water. The Hyur grinned and let his arms hang free before gesturing at the cityscape. "What do you see here, Kai? Tell me what you see?"

The deck chief looked and shrugged. "Dunno, sir....a city? Look, it's late and -"

"Hush...." The index finger to the Hyur's lips, still grinning as he put his arm around the deck chief's shoulders in a friendly gesture. "It's not just a city, Kai...that's the answer I would expect from someone that lacks vision to say. No....that my friend, is opportunity. Especially for a group of spirited people with ambition." He turned and the grin left, replaced by a disappointed frown, as he faced Kai.

"Merely a 'city', Kai? I'm disappointed." The sound was soft and yet seemed loud in the quiet late night air. *Shhuckk* The knife sank easily into the deck chief's chest as the Hyur continued to stare disappointedly before a tiny smile touched the corners of his lips and then he nodded softly.

"Yes...your man failed to understand that words have meaning...and that is a failure of your leadership." His next words were a whisper, close to the deck chief's ear. "Means you lack vision. Not the sort I want here with me." As the deck chief grunted and finally collapsed off of the knife to the dock, lifeless, the Hyur looked about and saw no one about before casually kicking the corpse into the water, clasping his hands behind his back again and walking toward the ship, whistling a happy tune.

Limsa, he thought, would be a good place to settle indeed.

Parvacake · **12-10-2014, 12:17 AM**

Lili's hold on the rock face nearly crumbled, the blonde shirking against the red and brown stone so as to have some place further she could grasp a hold of. After a moment, the unsteady quiver of the small divet stilled and she felt comfortable placing weight on it again to hoist herself up once more.

It had been a full day of nothing but scaling the rocky hill and mountain sides beneath the scorching Thanalan sun. Even with it being later in the season, the heat did not diminish and the blonde had resorted to using her spare shirt as a turban of sorts to protect herself from the scorching sunlight. With a grunt and wheeze, she rose up onto the plateau she had been scaling and sprawled out in a grateful heap. The rocks were too warm to rest against for long, but her arms shook too much. She needed rest.

Through the strands of her hair, the woman noticed a nearby scorpion. It was a rich red color, possibly poisonous, and stared at her with its claws held as high as its little body would allow. Lili didn't blink or move as she watched it, and the simple act of staring distracted her from her thoughts and where she was.

In the middle of the Thanalans. Lost. Caked in dust and sweat and enough body odor to suit a grown Highlander male in his prime. All with only one purpose in mind and one objective.

She had to find him.

Seeing that the scorpion didn't seem interested in actually getting close to her, Lili rose up onto her hands and knees before gathering the strength to get to her feet and continue walking. The little scorpion waited a few steps before skittering behind her.

DrPoxo · **12-10-2014, 03:17 AM**

A large roegadyn woman with a pale green complexion hung acrisp parchment on the bulletin board of Ulâ€™dah. The lettering is printed clearly and precise.

Seeking Cadavers forResearch Purposes

Payment based onQuality and Freshness

No Questions Asked

Deliver to Warehouse#54 A in Ulâ€™dah

Kage · **12-10-2014, 09:47 AM**

He had finally made his way to it. Her resting place. After his conversation with Salem... he needed to do this. He'd been holed up for so long... hiding and not grieving properly. It hurt; it hurt so much still to not see her. She wasn't around Ul'dah. She wasn't around -anywhere-. Not anymore. Not since then... Not since he'd fought in the Grindstone while she went off without him. Without telling him.

A wedding... a bonding... He bit his lower lip as his fingers touched a warm piece of smooth steel in his pocket. The ring of steel. He'd made that... Twelve, Kage had made it moons ago. When it wasn't just a dream being with her. It had been a reality. He wanted to show the whole of Eorzea how much she meant to him. His fist closed around the ring as he brought to his chest and his feet buckled beneath him. He wept, bowing his head. He wept, letting every feeling he had flow.

Kage slowly rose to his feet, wiping his face a little with his free hand. He steeled himself and whispered, "They're right. You're in a better place now. You're free. I hope when it comes to it... you'll let me be free by your side."

He slowly made his way to his new home, his shoulders just a bit lighter than when he made his way to the place.

Steel Wolf · **12-10-2014, 10:16 AM**

It had been a restless night for Steel Wolf, despite her being in her usual room at the Drowning Wench. Still, her mind was racing before she laid her head down, which had not been conducive to a good night's sleep.

The sounds coming from outside her door were not helping the matter, either.

It had started innocently enough, though bafflingly. A long, slow creaking noise. Then a long pause. Then another, this time shorter and sharper. She thought afterward she had heard some giggling. Then another pause. Another croak, first low and deep, then rising in tone as if wood were being bent sharply. This had been met with unmistakable giggling.

It was about ten minutes of this before Steel finally had enough and had to investigate.

She hurriedly threw on a long overshirt to cover herself and slowly opened her door, peering through to spy what was going on. Just a bit up the hall, outside her door, were two Hyur and a Lalafell, all gathered around themselves in a small circle, muttering to each other.

"Right then...yer turn." ,spoke the blond-haired Hyur.
"Gimme a damned minute, I'm still workin' on up!" ,replied the black-haired Hyur.
"Oi oi! I got one I got one!" ,interjected the Lalafell, hopping a couple of times in apparent excitement. The two Hyur hushed as the Lalafell bent himself double, eyes wrenching shut in apparent concentration. Then, a long, loud flatulent blast came out of him, ripping across the air. The threesome dissolved in to mad laughter, both Hyur patting the Lalafell on the back in congratulations.

Steel's teeth gritted as she swung the door wide, the wood of the portal slamming noisily against the wall of her room as she stormed forth. "Oi! What in th'seven bloody hells are you doi--?!"

It was then that the horrid stench greeted Steel's nose. It was like a burning peat bog and a congregation of Morbols had conspired together to make the air unbreathable. Steel gagged visibly, stumbling back as the malodor offended her backwards. This was met by even more howling laughter from the trio.

Steel glared furiously at them as the blond-hair stepped forward. "Beggin' yer pardon, miss! Just 'avin a bit of sport after a solid night's drink, ey? Surely yer not goin' to stand in th'way of a contest?"

"Oh, aye. And here's yer prize."

Steel swung at the blond-hair, clapping a huge fist across the man's face. He fell like a bag of wet sod, thudding on to the ground. The other two stood, dumbstruck, giving Steel the opportunity to close distance. She landed an uppercut on the second Hyur, the momentum of her charge carrying forth in her swing. The black-hair was sent flying, landing noisily on the hall floor. He staggered to a scrabbling run, hands and feet blurring as he fought through the fog of her strike to get away. The Lalafell, meanwhile, had already made a headstart, running up the hall in terror before he could be punted out of the window.

Steel closed her eyes and growled, shaking her head at the sight. She turned and walked past the sprawled out form of the blond-hair, who groaned as she walked by.

"...I...can see up yer shirt..." ,he spluttered.

Further observations were silenced by a sharp strike with Steel's foot across the man's jaw.

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