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Wolves in Sheeps' Clothing [ooc welcome] - Illira - 11-04-2014
((After Keepers of Employ))
Ulanan set her huge hat where it belonged, rightfully on her head. D'hein was taking so long in getting them anything from D'aijeen's room that she had time to change her clothes. She was now wearing black instead of white. Her hat was of a much more expensive fabric and pointier than the last one. She had a brown vest and a belt over her long sleeved shirt, dark grey trousers and, predictably, black shoes. She carried a new book with her, filled with pages.
It was probably not the best outfit for the desert. But they were in Ul'dah at the moment, so she couldn't really care about such technicalities.
After changing her clothes, she reunited with Cypress and pulled her along the city streets, direction unknown except for her alone. "You need a change of clothes." she said to the Roegadyn. "How long have you been wearing that?"
"I don't think dragonhide is far easier to come across here, than it was back home." Her traditional clothing was of an obviously old and worn reddish leather, the texture of it varying between stitched sections. The only decoration was from a strange stone beading.
"Dragonhide isn't the only type of fabric." Ulanan replied grumpily. "We'll get you to the Tailor's Guild and buy you something practical and light. Good for travelling!"
"Can you fire-proof them?" Cypress asked seriously in her graveled tone.
"Can't you control your fire so they don't burn off?"
"No. It doesn't work like that. What does it matter anyway? Does it bother you so much that I do not douse myself in the flimsy drapes of this city?"
Ulanan frowned. Because Cypress was blind, she decided to let the frown slip into her tone. "If you go around wearing rags and smelling like a filthy beggar that's what people are going to think. When you arrive at their doorstep and warn them about voidsent, they'll laugh and close the door on your nose instead."
"These 'rags' are far older than you, Ulanan. Show some respect. It would not matter if a wore a gown made of the finest silks and sprayed on myself a rosy perfume. People do not listen because they don't want to. Because they're too afraid of what it could mean."
"They don't listen because you do so in one of the worst possible ways and because you don't look like a self-respecting mage at all!" Ulanan replied, even grumpier. She threw one hand to the air. "Wearing OLD rags, failing to understand the local culture, or the local norms...I imagine you never ever tried, afraid of what accepting our ways would mean." she finished with a huff.
"Because this is not my culture, parasite. I am merely a passerby who does not forget where she comes from or why she's here. Would you prefer that I dress like D'hein? Full of big fancy talk, with only the barest whispers to show for it?" Cypress could no longer see him, but she recalled all too well the expensive foppish clothing that he ensconced himself in. An imposter. "Appearances meant nothing. Did you learn nothing from that little elven girl? What would you have a 'self-respecting mage look like?"
Ulanan stopped and faced the Roegadyn. "Are you implying everyone who is not you or from where you come from is a voidsent?"
The pull ceased and so did Cypress's treading, "No. And you miss my point entirely."
"Your point seems to be buried a whole pile of mud that isn't even related to what you are saying." she grumped, again.
"You saw that little elezen girl. Knew the circumstances and the nature of what we were chasing. And yet, because the wolf had taken the sheep's clothing, you believed it. Shed the wool from your eyes, Ulanan. You're smarter than that. It seems that city folk have lost trust in their instincts and rely too much on what they see." Cypress's hand lifted to gesture to her bandage covered eyes.
The lalafell crossed her tiny arms. "So instead of working around our ignorance or using it to your advantage, you are going to charge over it, head first, and hope we all agree with you. Fine."
"So you'd prefer I pull on the wool? Why is it so important to you that I be Ul'dahn? Be what I am not?"
"Clothes don't define you!" she threw her arms up again, turned around and walked. Three seconds later she came back and pulled Cypress from her clothes in another direction. "You wouldn't be an Ul'dahn for dressing like them. That's like saying that if you crouch you'd become a lalafell. It's ridiculous!"
Maybe not. But my clothes serve a purpose." Cypress went silent for a few moments, "Which I suppose is your point about the Ul'dahn garb." Though she didn't say it, the thought of hiding her voidgate-keeper's garb away made her a little sick. It was piece of her family that she carried with her. A reminder of the honor and duty that she served throughout the silent, lonely nights and the distance she now had.
"Well, I don't care anymore. You can be an- OW!"
A mild 'thud' followed her painful shout. The lalafel dropped her grip, instead using both hands to grab her nose with her eyes closed for a moment. She looked ahead of her, and she saw a piece of paper, a letter, being waved in front of her face. She took it violently, almost crushing it under her little fist.
"Flying rat! You also need to learn some manners!" she shouted, as the mail moogle flew away in absolute silence to do the things that moogle do.
Cypress's large red hand came to rest on atop Ulanan's with the abrupt stop, "What's this?" She asked. "An Ahriman?" The void's version of a flying rat.
"Just a moogle with a letter." Ulanan said, her voice coming muffled from under her hand. She ripped the letter open in very un-lady-like fashion and spent some time reading. When she was done, she looked up and said: "You need to stop calling me a parasite."
The Roegadyn merely replied with a, "Hrmmm."
"I have news about where D'aijeen might be. But you first will swear to stop calling me a parasite or any other insult you could think of."
"You said that I wore rags and smelled like a filthy beggar."
"I don't tell you that constantly, though! Just this once!"
"Then let us cease the insults. I swear on my ancestors before me that I will do so. Now you will do the same."
"And I'll swear over mine to not insult you back. Done!" Ulanan nodded. She then shook the piece of paper emphatically. "It looks like D'aijeen was seen in Drybone just a couple of days ago. That's after her...demise in Vesper Bay."
"I know it. I have passed through it before. Who sent you the letter?"
"Antimony." she replied. "We should get there as soon as possible. Do you want to pester D'hein once more for the scrying object?"
"So the wool was pulled from her eyes," mused Cypress. "No. We do not need to waste on D'hein now. If he intended to help he would have."
"That's what I thought. Let's head back to the Quicksand and gather supplies for the journey. Like olives! We can't go out without those."
"We can. But if you wish for that one, small thing, then we won't," a concession, it was.
"That's all I need! Besides water. Do you need anything to improve your voidsent-killing?" Ulanan pushed them towards the Quicksand, which requires an odd turn around the crooked streets of Ul'dah.
Cypress shook her head, "I need nothing special. But perhaps fresh bandages would not go awry."
Ulanan hummed lightly as they walked, making a mental list of supplies. "Yes, we don't want you to die on the way." she finally said. "Gathering what we need shouldn't take more than an hour. Come, now!" And she pulled harder to make Cypress go faster.
Cypress didn't go faster.
RE: Wolves in Sheeps' Clothing [ooc welcome] - Illira - 12-08-2014
A white hat with a little arm pulled Cypress all the way from Ul'dah to the chocobo keeper. There, the little arm pulled the chocobo the roegadyn woman mounted. It guided them to Camp Drybone, crossing Thanalan, stopping only the bare minimum of time required to let the beasts rest. They reached the town in the morning and, once unmounted, the little arm pulled the woman once more. This time they went northwards, to the church close to town. It was infamous for its large graveyard, a direct result of the Calamity.
But the white hat didn't have time to dwell on the sorrows of times past. The woman under the hat, Ulanan, only stopped guiding Cypress around once they were already in the building, right at the door. She took off her hat.
"We arrived." she said. "Now let's find that priest."
The red woman sniffed the air with deep breaths, habitually moving her head about as if to take in the town through her cleanly bandaged eyes. She'd been through it briefly before at least and knew that it was a pit carved out of the desert, "There is a place of worship around here, is there not?"
"We are standing in it, yes. The Church of Saint Adama Landama." The lalafell pulled the larger woman gently to walk a few paces away from the entrance, looking around to see if any of the priests were around.
Cypress followed along, not wanting to stand idly by the chocobos. When the voices of priests did not run through the air, she called out, "Priests. We have need of you."
There are a number of attendants at the church of Saint Adama Landama, garbed in black and busy with the corpses and mourners that defined their existence. Though time passed, the endless stream of dying refugees never slowed. The graves were overflowing and the mourners trudged in endless dust.
Ulanan was far from alone in having need for the priests. An attendant straightened from one of the open graves that lined the road leading to the church. The road had been narrowed recently to make room for more graves. There was blood on the attendants cuffs as he turned to the shouting Roegadyn. "Is this a matter of urgency?"
"Yes," Cypress answered, her head turning towards the voice. "We received word of someone that was seen coming through your church. We have... Questions." That seemed polite enough.
"Let me be a little more direct. A healer here saw a young green-haired miqo'te travelling with a man. We were hoping to speak with him." the lalafell added.
"We only have a few healers here. I also remember a green-haired miqo'te who used to spend a lot of time around here." The man dusted off his hands. Dirt blew across the ground around him, disappearing into the grave, sliding over the corpses, and then blowing back out and away. "Do you have any other details you can give me?"
"She is dead." And her body should rightfully have been among those buried here had she not allowed herself to fall into the depths over her head. "But her body still walks. It would have been a few days ago that she was seen." There was no cushioning of the truth, Cypress had found. Not when it needed to be laid bare.
Ulanan made a face, glared at her feet for a moment and then looked up at the man. "She died not long ago in Vesper Bay, in an incident involving voidsent. Her name's D'aijeen. Small frame, thin. Used to wear white clothes. We don't know how she'd look like now."
The man looked from Cypress to Ulanan, wide eyes blinking. "Uhm. That all sounds... a bit over my head. If you wait at the church I'll, uhm, go ask around."
"That would be good," answered Cypress.
Ulanan put her hat back on and gripped Cypress by her clothes again. "Thank you." she said, and begun guiding the woman again to the interior of the church.
The man they'd been talking to retreated from the interaction, walking off without even burying the body he'd left in the grave.
"The letter said nothing about who the priest was?" asked Cypress as they walked through the double doors that had been left open to encourage air circulation.
"It didn't. Maybe Antimony was too disgusted by the situation to remember the name, or perhaps the man didn't introduce himself." Ulanan shrugged. She pulled Cypress to the closest bench and urged her to sit as soon as they reached it. She took off her hat once more.
The roegadyn's knee banged against the pew in front of them as she made to sit down. They were not spaced for one of her stature, but it was not so bad. "Why does that woman lie to herself so?"
"She's a mother in grief." Ulanan replied flatly.
"And that allows her to remove herself from the world? She cannot change the world by willing it so. That is not her domain." That was Althyk's alone.
Ulanan made a grumpy face. "Some people prefer to lie to themselves and live rather than despair about the truth and take their own lives."
Cypress's head shook, "That is not living in this world."
"It is living. I'm sorry it doesn't fit into your particular meaning of 'world'." Ulanan grumped yet again. "I guess someone who has nothing to lose won't understand."
"You think I have nothing to lose? It is true that my life is different than those you are familiar with, but that does not mean that I do not have... I do what I do because I care about far more than myself. Because I understand sacrifice." Cypress hummed in thought. "Yet another thing your cities have forgotten."
"Yes, well." Ulanan accommodated herself further back on the bench, most of her legs extended over it before her feet hung from the edge. "That's exactly what someone who has nothing in this world would say."
"Then what is it you think everyone else has that is so important that I do not have? Do you think if I had a daughter and lost her as that woman did, that I should have to lie to myself and live in a fantasy?" Truly, Cypress did not understand.
"Get married with someone you really love. Then kill him. We'll talk again when you do." Ulanan barked lowly.
The church doors groaned against the sand in their hinges as an old priest pushed them aside, stepping into the church. The man was small and feeble, too old to move bodies, too old to dig graves. He was a man who tended the dying and the mourners, and his pale, wrinkled features demonstrated the weight of this burden. He caught sight of the Roegadyn and the Lalafel immediately; the pair was easily recognized even from a second-hand description.
Taking a moment to breathe, the priest approached them. "Hello. You greatly disturbed one of the attendants outside."
That was terribly specific. Perhaps Cypress would ask Ulanan more about that as they traveled. But now there was a priest to talk to. So Cypress tilted her head in the direction of the voice, "That was not the intention. Are you the one who met the v- Daijeen?"
Ulanan stood up and faced the man, giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement. She waited for his answer.
"I've known D'aijeen for some time." The man nodded, gesturing outward. "She used to help around the church. Preparing the bodies after they had passed."
Cypress pressed for more specific confirmation, "I meant recently. We were told that one of the priests here saw her but a few days ago."
"Any information would be useful." the lalafell said.
The priest held up a hand. "First, may I ask who you are and how you came to ask these questions?"
"We are friends with her mother. She passed by Drybone recently and was approached by this healer." Ulanan replied.
The muscles in Cypress's jaw twitched, straining as the woman kept it clenched shut against the inadequate answer. She remained silent though, letting Ulanan take the lead on this, recognizing that that was for the best.
"Ah, yes. D'aijeen's mother. I spoke with her about what I saw. She did not wish to hear all that I had to say. Nor did she tell me all that she knows." He shook his head. "Not that I can blame her reticence."
"I'm sure she did not mean to be rude, and I thank you for your understanding on her behalf." Ulanan offered a smile to the man. She looked up to Cypress. "Perhaps we can share some light on what you saw, if you can be more specific about it."
"The letter was not very forthcoming about details," explained Cypress.
The priest nodded. "I have had more time now to process the events than I'd had when speaking to D'aijeen's mother previously. There were a handful of incidents over a brief period of time." The priest gestured in the direction of Drybone. "A man carried D'aijeen into Drybone seeking medical help for her. By that time, however, D'aijeen was already dead. Her body had been burned and cut. Muscles that had been severed moved impossibly, visible through gaping wounds. She did not seem capable of speech, and was very weak."
"It is a far journey that he would have carried her. She died in Vesper Bay, so I find it strange that he would have sought medical attention for the body. Do you know who he was?" asked Cypress.
Ulanan pondered, rubbing her chin with her little hand.
The man pondered this. "No. He was protective of her. When we concluded what D'aijeen was and tried to deal with it, he took her and fled. We send trackers from the Flame's after them, and they were fought off."
"By one man?" Ulanan sounded dubious. Her eyebrows raised to show how surprised she was.
"You have no idea who it could be, Ulanan?" inquired Cypress.
The lalafell shook her head. "I don't know many men capable of fighting anything off. Could you describe him?"
"In a word?" The priest began. "Undead. As I said, there were several incidents. We later concluded that this man was also something that should not exist."
"Perhaps she raised him. He could have been a passenger on that shipwreck, like that girl. Her body is not good enough anymore, but there is still power in it," Cypress mused. Too much power and far passed being able to blend in at this point.
"I doubt she'd be able to move this huge distance without using the aetheryte network. And then she would have been seen by everyone in the plaza." Ulanan looked back at the priest. "I was hoping for a more...physical description. Any markings we could use to recognize him? Was he old, young, too dead to hide it?"
Then she squinted and frowned. "Was he an old elezen duskwight?"
"He is not dead, Ulanan. Not since he was last seen," said Cypress.
The old priest's brow dropped. "Ah, no. He is not. The man was a Miqo'te. Red-haired. Covered in burns, which is how we learned of his state. He felt no pain."
If she could have, Cypress would have blinked at that, but instead she was just silent for a time, "I believe I know who it is."
"You do?" Ulanan inquired.
The priest also seemed surprised. "You do?"
"He's where I picked up the D'aijeen's trail. In Gridania. He was... not voidsent. Not as D'aijeen. Meggido had seen a woman of D'aijeen's description over the man's grave." It had not been so long ago, the happenstance did not surprise Cypress. There were no coincidences.
Of course the first thing Ulanan did was to point it out: "That's a bloated coincidence." She still thought about it, however, rubbing her nose and getting some rebellious hairs out of her eyes. How had she let it get so long? She must have been careless. She needed scissors. But that was for later.
"Oschon is a fun god, making everyone trip over each other's steps." she sighed.
The priest cleared his voice. "Be that as it is, this man demonstrated a violent need to protect D'aijeen. The second time, he carried back a severely injured man -- another Miqo'te -- whom it seemed that he had fought. It is noteable that he didn't kill the man. However, there was no peace between them."
"He has been back then? Where is this other man now?" Cypress demanded to know.
Ulanan skipped her turn!
The priest shook his head. "D'aijeen is gone. The undead man who protected her is gone. The injured man was treated for his injuries, and he then departed to a local Miqo'te tribe which I believe has made camp south of Highbridge, a day or two away."
"That is not so far," Cypress observed.
"Mm. I imagine not. Do you want to go there?"
"That is where the trail seems to lead."
The priest ventured, "I believe that D'aijeen's mother departed for the Golden Bazaar, for what it is worth."
"I doubt she went there in order to follow anyone." Ulanan concluded. "It's likely K'airos had work to do in that place."
"She has made her position clear on these matters. It is not worth to follow her. I am surprised that she even sent us the letter that she did," observed Cypress.
"You should thank her the next time we meet her." Ulanan said, pulling the roegadyn's clothes with a smirk. It didn't last long. She returned her attention to the priest.
"Anything else you can tell us about this matter?"
The priest shrugged. "You have listened to it all, and told me more than D'aijeen's mother did."
Cypress stood up, feeling the tug of Ulanan hand tugging at her leather garb, "She made a practice of summoning voidsent and caused an undue amount of harm. And now she's one of them. This must all be remedied."
The tiny woman stopped pulling Cypress' clothes long enough to bow lightly at the priest, even going for crossing one ankle behind the other. "You have our thanks. Pray so that everything meets a good and fast resolution."
She was then back pulling the larger woman's clothes to guide her once more.
The priest stepped aside. "I will do so. Please let me know what becomes of this."
"We will." Ulanan stated, placing her huge hat back on her head while pulling Cypress outside.