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A Forlorn Fortnight 【Complete】 - Printable Version

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RE: A Forlorn Fortnight 【Closed】 - Nero - 10-03-2014

Day 14

The sound of gulls. The splashing of waves. A distant shoreline. A bright blue sky.

All of these things had devolved into mere images, fragments of memory that occupied the edges of the mind. A weak thought floated to the top of Daegsatz Traggblansyn's consciousness; he'd been here, in Ul'dah, for a fortnight. Surrounded by naught but the featureless granite of a gaol, with the only exit being a heavily barred door. No windows existed to allow the passage of light. No comforts existed to allow for hope.

Nero hadn't given up on him, but that didn't mean the Hyur was foolhardy. Roen had insisted that she would see him freed, but the Sea Wolf was more aware than most would think; even without knowing the true extent of the city, Daegsatz was more than aware of the corrupted bureaucracy of the city. He knew he wouldn't be free unless the right people wanted him to be free.

He did not move from his position of sitting in the gaol, leaning against the wall, slumped in the corner. He found these days that he lacked the energy. It was not an issue of sustenance, but what point was there in moving in the cramped cell? It would accomplish nothing but make him more exhausted, and exhausted he was, even as all of his days were spent doing nothing but sitting in the cell, waiting for the next bell to pass.

Thus did he wait, with naught to keep him company but memories of a forlorn fortnight.


RE: A Forlorn Fortnight 【Closed】 - Roen - 10-03-2014

It had been a fortnight since Daegsatz had been imprisoned, and Roen still had no way to free him.

Ser Crofte had now been missing for three days. That might have been something that would have worried her more had it not been for the fact that a few within the Order made mention of her nursing a broken heart with a bottle or three.

So Roen had turned her attention to finding Nero instead...only to find that his safehouse had been emptied, cleaned out. They no longer shared a linkpearl to communicate since he had broken off their partnership over lunch, so the safehouse was the only way she was going to find him. Admittedly, her searches had so far been half hearted, but after falling unconscious in the gaols, the paladin had dedicated that day to finding Ser Crofte or Nero. She had been too embarrassed to return to the gaol that day, Ser Jojon’s orders to stay away aside.

But Daegsatz was now the only hope she had left of finding Nero. If she could not get Ser Crofte to free him, then perhaps the pirate would find a way. And…she needed to make sure the smuggler was alright, that he had not run into unexpected trouble.

He can handle himself, Roen reassured herself. He had killed those bandits and the Brass Blade on his own, after all. The man could handle himself in a fight. She had no reason to worry.

Still...a consternated frown lingered when she entered the Sea Wolf’s cell, urgency hurrying her words.

“I cannot find your captain," the paladin just blurted out. "His safehouse has been cleared out. It is completely empty.”


RE: A Forlorn Fortnight 【Closed】 - Nero - 10-03-2014

Daegsatz looked up at the paladin with bleary, dull eyes. Doing nothing was truly more of a drain on the body than any manner of activities; every bell that passed forced him to keep himself still, and calm, to keep his mind from breaking from the silence and the isolation. Keeping himself that restrained was more exhausting than one would think, and that made itself clear on his face.

"If'n...Nero be gone, then, ye be checkin' th' ports," the Roegadyn didn't say so much as he sighed out the words. "Somethin' be 'appenin' that 'e not be makin' landfall back 'ere fer a while, so 'e'd be...goin' back to the Forte." Daegsatz struggled to sit up straight, and shook his head to clear his speech somewhat. "Mayhaps Vesper Bay, if 'e be movin' everythin' at once."


RE: A Forlorn Fortnight 【Closed】 - Roen - 10-05-2014

The urgency that had tugged at her drained away when she noted the listlessness in the Sea Wolf. She sighed, sympathy sagging her shoulders.

Roen stepped toward the cot, kneeling in front of Daegsatz to look up at his eyes; his gaze seemed weighed.

“Meditation helped me, while I was in here,” she offered softly. “Then some conditioning exercises. The first helped my mind escape beyond the walls, and the second helped the body shed the weakness brought on by lethargy.” The paladin laid her hand over his thick knee, her expression betraying her remorse.

“I know it has been a fortnight. But just try and think on what you will do after you get out,” Roen tried to smile, if anything to try and lend him some hope. She remembered such things were precious and few to come by when she was in the gaols. “I will treat you to a good meal at Bismarck. If you have not had a good meal there recently, it is a must! Then perhaps we shall go look for that patch of beach that you drew. I would like to see it.”

“I will go find your captain, hopefully before he leaves for the Forte.” The paladin rose to her feet and turned for the door, the thought of chasing the smuggler to his ship making her grimace. “If I cannot get you out with Sultansworn help, then perhaps he and I can come up with something together.”


RE: A Forlorn Fortnight 【Closed】 - McBeef™ - 10-05-2014

Natalie sighed as she looked at the man sitting hunched on the floor in front of her. He was probably a terror once, his voice and his axe striking fear into all who encountered him. However at this moment, all she felt was pity. Weeks of confinement had not been kind to the man, all this time away from the sea, the sun, and fresh air, it seemed to have aged him a decade from the man she captured at the Silver Bazaar.

Even she had not intended for things to turn out this way, a situation she mused, which occured entirely too often. She had come with a death sentence for the man, but also a hope of a pardon. The death sentence itself was legal, if one didn’t look too hard. Jameson had friends among the magistrates as well, and the sentence was pushed through with a speed suspiciously unlike that of most judicial proceedings in the city. She’d hoped to have only used it as a threat, that the damned man would just give her something, anything.

She didn’t ever care about the quality of the information, she knew much of it would be false, but she needed an excuse. A excuse to let the damnable stubborn Roe go, and track him back to Nero. However they had gone back and forth for over an hour, she had given up on the details, instead simply focusing on Nero’s warehouses. However she couldn’t even get that out of him. She’d given up on torture immediately, having learned long ago there was no value in breaking the already broken.

The Roegadyn looked up at her with a strange smile on his face, "Limsa Lominsa. His base is in Limsa Lominsa. That be as much as yer gettin' from me."

Natalie sighed again, hoping that something would interrupt this course of action she’d set. She could simply leave him, the Blades would be more than happy to carry out the sentence and loot the body. She took a deep breath. No, she thought, the one who started this has to see it through. She gave him a strained smile of her own, "Very well. It's unfortunate it had to turn out this way."

"Ye've no idea," the Sea Wolf muttered under his breath, slumping against the wall.

Natalie looked out the narrow grate on the cell door. Ser Anelia Sadowyn and Lieutenant Khan’a Od’hilkas had asked to watch the interrogation, and now both of them looked like they would rather be anywhere else. "Anelia, Lieutenant, do you have any questions? "

Kahn'a shook his head. The conversation had risen his interest, but he spoke none of that. "We're done here if you are."

Anelia simply responded with a curt shake of her head.

Natalie turned back around to face him, "You’ve been in here a while, ever wondered why this cell has a drain on the floor?"

The Roe gave the drab cell a cursory inspection. "'elps with th' cleanup, I s'pose. Bloodstains be quite a pain ta get out o' the stone."

Natalie laughed bitterly, "You’re smart, too smart for you to waste it like this.” She sighed, “It really was a shame we couldn't help each other out."

She drew her blade slowly, the light dancing off it strangely in the dark space. "Ul'dah has had many leaders, the majority of whom weren't as kind as Nanamo. During those times this isn't a cell... it's an execution chamber." Natalie began to speak in a steady almost ceremonial voice. "Under the authority of the Sultana and the Syndicate you have been sentenced to death for the crimes of smuggling, murder, and piracy on the high seas."

"Do you have any last words?"

The Roe shook his head. "Then 'ave the graces ta make it quick, girl. Llymlaen not be the most patient mistress. As fer last words..."

His eyes looked up, first to the sword, and then to her eyes, "Well, I 'ope yer doin' what ye believe to be right, girl." With a look of resignation he simply let his head sag. "I 'ope ye all come away with a clean conscience."

Natalie gave a tired smile. "We all have our roles to play, I take no shame in mine."

With that she swung her blade in a low arc, slicing through the meat of his neck, the tip of her blade scraping against his spine as the man’s neck was opened up neatly. Natalie stepped backwards slightly at the end of her swing avoiding the spray of blood.

There was no cry, no growl, naught but a slight grunt. The Roegadyn's eyes widen as his body slumped over, the crimson fluids making a scramble for the drain on the floor.

Kahn'a turned his head away as the sentence was carried out, eyes shutting in disgust.

Natalie wiped her blade on a cloth and walked out the door, noticing his reaction. "Spare me the show Khan. As if he was so considerate to any of our sailors they found on the seas.” She began to feel anger rising within her. “He was a pirate, a smuggler, a murderer and worse, if he's not fit for execution, who is?" She was almost shouting.

"Blood is blood. You have your duties, I have mine. Here's not the place for me to give my opinion. I merely came to observe and will leave... satisfied." The Flame Lieutenant’s expression held no protest against the Sworn.

Natalie glared at him for a moment, before finally she took a deep breath and nodded. “Fair enough.” She took a clipboard off the wall, specifying the body to be buried at sea. "It's a shame,” she mused. “In different circumstances I think we would have gotten along..."

She hung the clipboard back on the wall with a sigh. "Bloody politics..." She shook her head and walked out the corridor.


RE: A Forlorn Fortnight 【Closed】 - Roen - 10-06-2014

"Are we friends?"

Roen’s stride was brisk, her steps light. The basket full of La Noscean oranges hung from the crook of her arm, along with a bottle of fine black rum that she had procured from the Bismarck. She had brought some fresh pastries and bread as well, although she knew not if the Sea Wolf favored such things. They were things of Vylbrand, and having just returned from two-day trip to Limsa Lominsa, the paladin was eager to share some of its bounty.

But her thoughts did not linger on the coastal City-State, only the man with whom she had spent those days.

“I don’t know. I don’t know where I stand with you, Roen.”

She had found Nero in Vesper Bay, as Daegsatz had said she would, preparing to return to the Forte--and leaving Thanalan altogether. And at his behest she had joined him on his ship, despite her absolute dread of getting back onto a boat and sailing out to sea.

“Let us be honest then, Nero. Where do I stand with you?”

Somehow, she had managed to suppress her fear while she and Nero exchanged tales of their pasts and their respective families on their way to Limsa Lominsa. The further away from Thanalan he got, the more honest and reflective the smuggler had become. He spoke of his father, and she of her Garlean parents. Then the two days that followed in La Noscea…

"I don't believe I've decided whether or not I even fully believe your…selflessness."

Roen had asked him for an afternoon to themselves. She wanted to clear the air, to lessen the tension that always seemed tighter between them. When he had met her on an early afternoon, she took him riding on the backs of chocobos through the Noscean hills, ending the day on the southern coast overlooking the sea.

"I do want things. But…I think I often wrestle with what I want, and I want to see for others."

A small smile found her lips as she recalled the laughter and the conversation that followed. Riding into the winds had filled her with a lightness of being, and the day had taken off that mask that Nero always guarded himself behind.

"Then…what is it you want from me? I know you…want me to be better, but that is something you want me to become. What is it you want from me?"

Roen had not the answer to give him when he asked her forthrightly of her own feelings. She still remembered his ice-blue gaze boring into her. It made her catch her breath.

"I am...not sure. I am not good at this. I know how to protect people and defend their lives and I know what is the right path. This. This is… not right or wrong. It is just..."

What would she tell his First Mate? She knew the last time they had spoken, with her tongue loosened by that cursed brandy, that he had been curious about their relationship. Of course he would be, Nero was his captain and ward after all. Would she tell the Sea Wolf that she was starting to develop more than just a feeling of friendship for Nero?

What would Daegsatz think?

Such were the questions that buzzed around her head like busy bees that she did not at first notice the frown that was on Ser Jojon’s face when she approached the gates of the gaol. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then bowed his head instead with a small shake. He muttered something about ‘seeing for herself’ and reached for his key ring, unlocking the thick doors.

Roen just gave him an arched brow, still pondering how she would even start the day's conversation with Daegsatz. It was...very much an awkward topic.

"Then...let me help you decide…if you will have me."

Ser Jojon broke the awkward silence as he led her down the corridor, his steps slower than usual. “It was only a sun ago, I am sorry Deneith…”

The morose tone in the Lalafell’s voice made Roen pause, her own steps slowing at first. Then they quickened, and she passed the jailor to hurry toward the Roegadyn’s cell. All thoughts of Limsa were gone.

Their kisses…

Neither of them had wanted it to end.


The basket in her hand impacted to the ground, spilling its contents to the stony floor. An orange broke open with a sticky spat. Others rolled across the cold stone floor, bouncing weakly off the ungiving wall.

The cell was empty, with naught but the remnant of a dark stain that had recently been washed down the drain in the center of the room. The grate was marred with crimson smearing its edges; no amount of water could fully wash away its bloody scars.

Roen stared at the empty cell. Her chest was caught in a vise. She could not breathe.

“It happened without much a warning, I’m afraid. Else I might have sent word to ye. I know he may have wanted to see ye before the execution was carried out...” Jojon prattled on behind her, even as she slowly sank to the ground. What other words of comfort he may have offered then, Roen heard them not.

Her gaze stayed fixed onto the drain, and the dark stain that coated the metal grate there. The pile of parchments with elaborate sketchings on them--drawn by deft yet untrained hands--still lay in a neat stack in the corner of the room. The small bronze music box that had played that single, simple melancholic tune still rested under the cot, where the Sea Wolf had laid it, carefully, so it would not be crushed. Even the empty bottle of brandy remained where it had rolled against the corner of the room.

Mostly she only saw the damnable hole where Daegsatz’s lifeblood had drained away.

He had been killed, throat slit, alone in a windowless cell, death delivered by the hands of someone who could not have known him at all.

Her vision began to blur as she hung her head low, hot tears dotting the floor beneath her. Her trembling hands curled into fists on the ground, it was all she could do to steady herself as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. She did not hear Ser Jojon quietly walking away.

Roen sat alone in the Daegsatz's empty, darkened cell and wept.