Sentry

Elam flexed his right hand, sensation finally returning to his fingertips. He splayed his fingers out then turned his hand over, where two rough lines of abrasion had marred his skin. He had struck the Xaela hard enough, that the top of his hand had been scratched by the scales upon the woman’s cheek. He could still recall the fury that ignited instantly within him when Nabi had brought out a small knife to knick his arm. He had not given the wound itself much thought at first; it was the very fact that the woman had brought out a weapon with intent to cut him that angered him. Such a petite girl, she didn’t even know how to truly cut a man to stop him. He laughed at her at first, then sent her sprawling to the floor with a vicious backhand. That small knife in her hand went spinning on the floor, disappearing under a bookshelf. Elam didn’t care, he was infuriated. She had panicked when he had taken hold of her wrist, squeezing it tightly to emphasize the fact that it was in her best interest to work for him and his employer exclusively, and that the time of patience and cordiality had run out. Did she think that such a minuscule wound would ward him off? Scare him away? The girl was so naive, Elam was ready to teach her a lesson about not listening to those who were far above her in the position of power and strength. He could do a lot worse than threaten to break her wrist. That was when his leg gave out from under him. "What..." He had muttered with his eyes widening. A heavy numbness had quickly spread throughout his body. He fell hard onto the floor of her clinic, his limbs frozen, unable to move. He barely managed to lift his head, as he watched her scramble up and running for the door, no doubt about to call for help. But Elam had not been foolish enough to come alone. He saw his foreman, Torrad Stonebreaker, standing just outside the door when she threw it open. Much to his relief, the Highlander grabbed her and covered her mouth before she could scream. A quick thinker, Torrad had a drugged piece of cloth ready for just the occasion, a few breaths of it rendering her unconscious in his arms. But seeing his employer lying limp, the foreman dropped the Xaela on the ground in a heap, and rushed over to Elam. Elam remembered the rage that burned inside him at having been found so handicapped, left helpless by a woman half his size. It was humiliation that fueled his fury. But the decision that followed was not made hastily. After Nabi refused him, he could not just let her be. After her show of defiance, he could not let her livelihood remain. While the foreman looked nervous at following his orders, he obeyed without protest. With all of his strength now having returned, Elam poured himself a glass of his finest rum and approached the window. Across the port city, a bell echoed through the air and he could hear shouts as people raced toward the Rakuza District. There was an ominous black tower of smoke that was rising into the sky. It would be too late. The oil that was poured throughout the clinic behind the herbal stall was highly flammable. It would turn into a burning tower of flame in minutes, incinerating everything within. A quick fuel to dispose of what he wanted, without setting all of the port city on fire. He considered himself an efficient businessman after all. It would do him no good to incur heavy damage to his own city of business. But the Xaela’s herbal stall and healing clinic would be no more. Soon it would be reduced to a burnt carcass of a building, along with the unrecognizable charred Auri corpse that laid within. Swirling the dark brown liquor in his glass, he reached with his other hand, bringing out the two pearls again. Anchor would provide the transport, and Ghoa needed to fill in in Nabi’s absence. At least, for a little while. He still needed to meet demands, and this development would delay the production a bit. Elam tossed his head back and drained the entire glass of rum, washing away the bitter taste that lingered in the back of his throat. It was only business after all.

Alcohol was both a boon and bane when conducting business. It often loosened a client’s tongue, made him more amenable to negotiations, and if consumed in excess, made him pliable to all sorts of suggestions. It also shortened tempers for some and clouded judgement. At least, that was where the bane came in for Elam Grave. He usually limited his intake strictly to no more than two glasses of the finest rum. It was hard for him to become drunk, but he had learned early on that indulgence beyond four cups often made him irritable. His thoughts were still clear, but his temperament sharpened. At least he took comfort in the fact that none would ever find him docile under the effect of too much, but he was well aware that even anger could be taken advantage of. And that it was a weakness. He hated weaknesses. So why, after entertaining a particularly wealthy Doman noble who was insistent on both of them drinking beyond their tolerance, did he think it was a good idea to answer the Xaela herbalist’s call to her clinic on the same night? Perhaps he thought her gullible enough that he was confident he could still get away with playing the part of a wealthy and generous merchant even while inebriated. She certainly wasn’t the type to be able to take advantage of anyone’s emotional state. But he should have also remembered that she was a valuable asset to him because of her uncanny aptitude with alchemy and herbalism. Certainly someone with such intellect was not beyond all deception, and it was much to his displeasure that this night of all nights, he would discover such was the case. Nabi had somehow gotten hold of a book that listed many of the various potions and drugs of Eorzea. Some academic fool in Ul’dah had recorded such things onto paper, then published it for all to read. Nabi had all sorts of questions, because of course she did. Most of the drugs he provided her were of the illegal sort, and those too were listed in that cursed book. She recognized too many of the substances, from Pluto, to milkweed, and blackwood rose. He had made up some vague tales to explain their use, but she questioned why the illegality was never mentioned. Her questions were earnest, but it still made Elam clench his teeth that she even dared to question him. Didn’t she know that he could easily snap her in two like a twig? Elam knew it was the alcohol burning through his veins that tensed his muscles, his tone much more short and rough than his practiced smooth drawl. He mumbled out some lie, flattered her on her ability to separate legality from usefulness of any substance. She didn’t seem to shy away from the intellectual curiosity side of things, and yet he could see that the usual sweet naivete that shined in her eyes was clouded with doubt and suspicion. Who was it that made her turn against him? Was it Shael? Or that Ishgardian mercenary? “If it is forbidden there… perhaps we shouldn’t continue to experiment with it here.” Nabi gave voice to her doubts again, as if he hadn’t heard it the first time. “I am just worried that--” Elam slammed a fist into the wall as he loomed over the tiny Xaela woman, pinning her just using his looming frame that she had no room to maneuver around him. She flinched, her back stiff against the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear and she blinked quickly up at him. “Mister Grave, you are scaring me,” she said quietly but firmly. Perhaps it was the surprisingly calm tone she took with him that yanked him out of the rolling waves of rage that crashed against his insides. The cursed alcohol. He took a long, controlled breath in and exhaled slowly, forcibly releasing the fury that was knotting his muscles. He bowed his head, his forehead coming close to touching hers. She shrunk away from him. “Apologies, lass…” he said in his most rueful voice. “Had far too much to drink for the night.” When she didn’t move and said nothing in response, Elam pushed off the wall and turned. He rubbed his face roughly, to hide the deep scowl that twisted his expression. He knew it only took one misstep to break a trust carefully cultivated, and he knew he might have stumbled this night. He kept his back to her as he struggled to compose himself, trying to calculate his next move. “We… all make mistakes, every now and then.” Nabi finally said quietly behind him. Elam let out a long exhale, turning around with some relief. He was struck with disappointment as soon as he saw her face however, it was still full of doubt. Her words were to try and reassure him, nothing more. He had enough sense to keep his expression as sorrowful as he could, and nodded in response. “I should go before I do something more foolish,” he grumbled, reaching for his coat. “I don’t think we should continue to--” Nabi started as he hurried toward the door, once again trying to make her case clear. Elam stopped her as he held up a hand. “Please... lass,” he said as humbly as he could manage. “Make no decisions tonight. Not after my asinine display. We’ll talk in the morn, after I’ve grovelled at your feet, sober. Then if you wish to turn me away, I’ll accept your decision.” Dramatic choice in words, but he hoped it would tug at the woman’s sympathies. Before she could say another word, he quickly turned and left. Once the cool night air greeted him, a dark glower emerged. He fished out a couple of pearls from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers. If Ghoa couldn’t convince Nabi to change her mind about their contract, then more drastic but calculated measures had to be considered. And Elam was never the one shy about taking drastic measures.

“Aventine, you are on pier duty.” Justus pyr Druilio did not look up from his papers as he barked out the order, his dark eyes narrowed intently on the report that was in front of him. It irritated him that he felt nervous enough to avoid the gaze of an inferior. The pen in his hand tapped with some force onto the desk. “Pier duty?” Surprise was evident in his voice, as Marius oen Aventine stood in attention in front of him. Justus had made it a point to avoid assigning him to anywhere near the weapon shipments since the day when he had to shoot Hawkins, the previous Eorzean contact. Justus knew that Aventine had initially advocated for himself to investigate the missing cargo, but he had assigned him to other duties far less important. That was his mistake. He should have kept a better eye on Aventine. It was only after the blasted can’t-help-but-be-earnest peon reported that he saw suspicious activity on the pier, that Justus had become aware of his continued meddling in the matter. I had forbade it but he continued to investigate under my nose. His lips twisted into a sneer at the very thought, and he had to forcibly prevent himself from grinding his teeth. He should have swiftly punished Aventine for his insubordinate behavior, but the report he had made was filed to both him and his superior officer. To save face, Justus had no choice but to act on it. That did not go over well with Grave. Not one bit. It was when the tip of his pen nearly punctured a hole into the document that Justus stopped his relentless tapping. “I have reports of the raid on the stolen weapons,” Justus said, barely keeping check of his simmering anger. “All five soldiers, butchered. No weapons retrieved.” “Sir,” Marius answered, consternation darkening his features. “If we had sent more in pursuit… perhaps--” “I did not ask for your opinion,” Justus snapped as he slapped the pen against the desk. “With Doma no longer under the Imperial control, large excursions into Yanxia are now frowned upon. At least we only lost conscripted Domans. They died upon their own treacherous land.” Justus noted the slight tightening of the man’s jaw even as Aventine continued to stand silent in attention. He had no doubt that Marius harbored some sympathy--or even a vague sense of loyalty--towards other soldiers who were not true Garlean. That made Justus detest him even more. “So now we’ve lost both the weapons and the soldiers. So I am assigning you personally, to oversee the arrival and departure of the next shipment. Since you seem to have taken a personal interest.” He didn’t bother hiding the disdain in his voice. “Dismissed.” “Yes sir.” Aventine saluted sharply, before turning and exiting the room. Justus stared at the door that closed behind him, a displeased twist lingering for awhile longer on his face. At least this might be the last I have to deal with him. It took much convincing on his part, but Justus was able to deflect much of Grave’s ire. After all, he had just told the Highlander the truth. He was just covering his tracks in sending those soldiers, but he had no intention in ending what had been a profitable deal between him and the agents of Crescent Enterprises. Justus also reminded Grave that he sent the least number of soldiers that he could, and conscripted forces no less, with inferior arms. Had he asked to send an advanced squadron, likely Grave’s forces would have suffered heavier losses. Grave finally seemed appeased when Justus offered up Aventine as the leak for him to eliminate; assassinating one of his own would have been much too tricky for Justus to handle it himself. But a Garlean soldier dying at the hands of Eorzean savages would draw suspicions elsewhere. And perhaps it would lend more credence to his argument of sending more weapons and soldiers to fortify the unit guarding the Consulate. Justus could then have his pick of the newly assigned to command. A nasally exhale escaped his nose as he picked up his pen again, scribbling his signature upon the report. The deaths would be blamed on the Domans as well as the Eorzean smugglers that were responsible for the theft, while much care was taken not to blame the Hingans. The peace--and the trade it brought--had to be maintained between Garlemald and Hingashi after all. Kugane was an important port for the Imperial trade industry. There was also the smuggling ring that filled his own pockets that Justus had to protect. Aventine would be but a barely notable sacrifice in the larger picture, a bug crushed by the wheel that would keep turning. Justus finally snorted, shook his head to rid it of thoughts of Marius oen Aventine, and reached for the next report.

The tiles were slick with rain that fell from an ink-black sky. Despite the rubber soles of his boots, Marius found certain inclines over specific spots still caused him to slip. He had become well familiar with their locations by now, as he came out nightly to breathe the cool evening air. Even rainfall did not deter his excursions; he found that the expanse of the ocean view, the bright colors of the city, and the endless canvas of stars above cleared his mind and renewed his spirit. Lately, some of his duties had come to weigh more heavily on his mind. Marius had witnessed Justus shoot someone in the head. The accusation was that the foreigner, an Eorzean, was stealing Garlean weapons while the ship was docked in Kugane. The man was judged and executed on the spot by his commanding officer, without as much as a word in his defense. Marius knew Garlean law to be strict without mercy, but something about this case still did not settle easily in his mind. Just how did he manage to gain access to the weapons? Some of the inventory that was found was not meant for general trade, the technology was too advanced. So how had they come to be on the trade ship? Surely the Eorzean had other contacts to enable his access, but with the deadly sentence passed, no further questions could be asked. Marius had initially inquired around about the dead man, but was immediately dismissed by Justus from the investigation. He wasn’t sure if it was a way that Justus was trying to minimize the appearance of flaws in security by leading the probe himself, or if it was motivated by something more. He was curious about the truth himself, so he had been watching the streets at night as well as discreetly investigating the dead man and researching any possible acquaintances. All without gaining the notice of his superior officer. These were the speculations that perplexed him, and he found running over the rooftops, sometimes at full sprint from building to building, released the tensions in his muscles and freed his thoughts from their usual constraints. He skidded to a stop at the bottom of the sloped tiled roof, finding leverage with his wide stance and lowered posture. His quickened breaths came as small puffs of steam against the cold night air, his chest rising and falling after the run across the city. But his attention was drawn upwards, toward the towering wooden beams that overlooked the city from the north. He spotted a figure swinging from the wooden pillars, the silhouette visible only when it was set against the bright banners that hung higher up. He squinted to try and make out the details, though the person was dressed in all black and well hidden by the darkness of the night. With a curious smirk he decided to follow, and stepped over the tightly hung ropes with the lanterns hanging above the streets. He crested a few more rooftops before he was able to close some distance between them, and as he did so, he could see that the figure was a woman, with a gun holstered on her back. Well, well. An odd mixture of alarm and curiosity pushed him to continue pursuit, despite the fact that he himself was not armed. As she leaped with ease from one pillar to another, he had to admire her dexterity. As he too liked to climb and test himself with balancing challenges, he made a mental note to try and test out her path through the pillars the next chance he got. Marius finally came to a stop at the end of the last building on the street, the courtyard of the Sekiseigumi Barracks opening up below him. The woman still continued to traverse through the air, although she too eventually reached the end of the rafters. “Where will you go now?” Marius murmured to himself as he watched. He then arched both brows when she turned and looked directly at him, giving him a two finger salute. He thought he spied a grin. Then she leaped off the pillar. Marius leaned forward as he watched her free fall through the air, until she grabbed at a high hanging banner, the fabric twisting and knotting with her weight as she gripped it firmly to slow her fall while she slid down its length. A high pitched whistle came from one of the watch towers; apparently the odd movements of the banner had finally caught an attention of a sekiseigumi standing watch. A few shouts rang through the air and Marius saw samurais darting through the streets in the direction of the woman’s descent. Her silhouette disappeared beyond the walls and rooftops of the barracks, and so did the rushing guards. As he stood at the edge of the roof, Marius could not see the final fate of the pillar jumper. What a reckless thing to do, he mused with a shake of his head. But still, the adventurous part of him wanted to see if he could duplicate the feat himself. When no further shouts came from that corner of the city, Marius turned and trotted the way he came. If she was caught, he would find out in the morning when he made his patrols, and if she wasn’t… Well, perhaps he would see her again tomorrow night. But as he made his way back toward the Bokairo Inn, he noticed a flicker of light on the pier, near the Garlean trade ship. He paused and lowered his goggles over his eyes to get a better view, quickly spotting two figures on the docks. He frowned; only guards should be stationed near the ship at this late hour, and of the two that he could make out, only one of them wore the uniform. The other was a taller hyur, possibly a Highlander. Could this be a lead into the Garlean weapons theft? The rain began to fall heavier, now drenching his hair and snaking in rivulets down his cheeks. Bad idea for bad weather... But it was an opportunity that Marius could not ignore. He leaped down from the rooftops onto the streets below, and began to make his way toward the docks.

The taste was bitter on the tip of his tongue, with the drug leaving a distant burn in the back of the throat as he swallowed. It was not unlike the effect of strong whisky, and for that, Elam Grave was pleased. Who would have thought that he would find a uniquely skilled alchemist here in the Far East? A curious thing, she was, and blissfully ignorant of the illegality of various drugs in Eorzea. The Xaela had already found a way to extend the duration of the Pluto’s effects. He told her that it was a compound developed to help soldiers on the war front and that potentiating its effects would help the end certain conflicts quickly. But the compound she was able to produce working with milkroot, usually an unpredictable hallucinogen, was truly remarkable. The alchemist he had worked with in Ul’dah had combined it with somnus in an effort to be able to induce hallucinations, while preventing the user from getting too agitated. It still was unpredictable, but when the delirium was pleasant, it had the potential to attract avid customers. This new compound that Nabi produced, however, was far more marketable in that she isolated it down to specific emotional effects. And even now, only minutes after he sampled a droplet of it, he could feel a wash of warmth throughout his body. His fingertips tingled, his muscles felt energized and his senses sharper. He could not tell if it was making him feel more lustful, or just eager for something. Hungry. But hungry for what, he could not say. Elam snorted to himself as he uncorked his bottle of rum and took a long pull from it to banish the aftertaste. Perhaps sampling it himself was not the wisest decision, but the Xaela had assured him that as long as he kept it to a droplet and no more, the effects would be mild. After all, if he was going to tout its benefits to his more favored clients, he should be able to boast of it genuinely, no? He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a second vial, laying it on the table next to the first one he had already tasted. What could Nabi produce with blackroot rose? He’d make up a tale that he was searching for a cure in case someone accidentally ingested it, if only to get her to study it. He had come to learn that her alchemist’s inquisitive nature often led to experimental side products as she investigated the drug’s properties. “If you could isolate the different effects of a poison, it is much easier to understand it and counteract,” the woman had chirped cheerfully. It was almost painful to listen to all the mundane details of her process, but if it meant she would share with him all the curious byproducts of her research, he could bear to act intrigued for a few bells. Maybe after he plied himself with some whiskey, anyroad. The woman had a penchant for rambling, and she seemed convinced that even the oddest things could have medicinal properties if it was used correctly. By the same token, Elam knew those very same things could also make a profit. He saw an opportunity to have a unique drug maker of his own and he wanted it. He even made the Xaela a generous offer to work for him and his employer exclusively. Who knows the unique potions she could make, if she wasn’t wasting her time as a healer? The temptation of wealth wasn’t enough to draw her away from that small stall peddling herbs on the streets of Kugane. He had no idea why, but it was only a matter of time before he found a way to get what he wanted. Everyone had a flaw or weakness; he just had to find it and exploit it. He was pouring himself another glass of rum when the door to his office crashed violently open. Elam’s hand slid under the desk to the gun hidden below, but paused when he recognized the woman standing across the threshold. “Decided to accept my offer?” Elam smiled cooly. “I don’t like what you are up to,” Shael Stormchild held a gun in her hand and she was glaring at him behind those red glasses of hers. “I don’t like you doing business with people I know.” Elam rolled his broad shoulders languidly. “Kugane's a big port. You're just going to have to learn to share, Stormchild.” She leveled the gun at him, and Elam could spy a small blue glow down the barrel. “Not these two. I am not sharing them. Find someone else.” Elam arched a brow. “Two? You're speaking of the mercenary you introduced me to… and… who else?” Shael frowned, and there was hesitation before she answered. “Nabi. The Xaela herbalist. You’re doing business with her, right?” Elam laughed. “Curious friends you’ve made.” He slid his hand out from under the desk, pouring himself a glass of rum. He pulled a second glass from the side drawer. “Care for a drink?” “Say it. You are going to leave those two be.” Elam snorted. “Reckless and impulsive as always. See, this's why you were good for jobs that no one else would take. Problem is, you were never patient enough to actually make your smuggling business a success. You could have made a lot more money if you just knew when to hold your tongue and keep that gun in its holster.” He gestured to the sofa in the room, across from his desk. “Sit. Let’s deal. Your friend the mercenary has yet to give me an answer. He seems to have a bad opinion of me.” Elam gave her a pointed look. “But the Xaela, now... She’s skilled. You’re going to have to do more than threaten to shoot me for her. My employer already knows of her. You get rid of me, someone else takes my place. You going to shoot them all?” When Shael’s nostrils flared but the woman remained silent, Elam pressed further. “I've a better offer than the one you already turned down. How about just a single job... and you can have everything you want.” Shael furrowed her brows, but her gun tip lowered just slightly. “And you expect me to believe that?” “Wait until you hear what the job is. I need it done, and it's risky as all hells.” Elam knew that the bait at least was too good for her to turn down right away. The risk and the reward of what she wanted. He grinned inwardly when she holstered her gun, and began to pour the second glass of rum, while one hand slyly reached for those two vials.

“Not bad,” Elam grunted, looking through the box. He picked up a gunblade from the confines of the crate, turning it over in his hand for an examination. Justus suppressed the sneer that wanted to twist one corner of his lip. It was all he could do to resist any outward display of scorn for the Highlander. Even if many savages have come to learn how to use and appreciate all that Garlean technology had to offer, Justus was still not convinced that they knew even half of the intricacies of what made magitek work. That is why they oft came to people like him to pay exorbitant amounts of money and obtain it illegally. Justus generally ignored the rumors of that traitor, Cid Garlond, working for the savages and actually opening up a company that manufactured weapons using Garlean technology. It was still rare enough that Justus was not running short of customers. And being stationed in Kugane, where much Garlean products were shipped for sale to other nations... well, that was a perfect place for him to conduct his own private sales. He ran a hand through his dark hair, slicking it back. His third eye blinked as he glanced about their surroundings. The pier was quiet, as it should have been. Justus had made arrangements to block all access to it for a set period of time. It was also late enough that most the city had retired for the night. He had made certain that only specific personnel was assigned to patrol duty in this area so that they would all turn a blind eye to the exchange occurring between a Garlean and a Highlander. When he was satisfied that the area was still secure, he turned his third eye's attention to the man in front of him. Elam Grave was a new contact; Justus had never met him before. He was a tall, thick-shouldered man, black of hair and short of words, with no pleasantries to be spared. That suited Justus just fine, as he wanted to limit his encounters with savages as much as possible. Crescent Enterprises had sent this new agent following the previous contact's untimely demise. The former handler had been discovered while transporting the weaponry that he sold him, so Justus was forced to shoot the man in the head--quickly and publicly--before any other details could be discovered. Marius Aventine had tried to arrest the man to question him, fool that he was, but Justus put an end to that notion with one pull of the trigger. When the dead man's replacement arrived to re-establish Crescent's smuggling trade, the Highlander didn’t seem to care for what transpired before him, only that he was certain he would not make the same mistakes that his predecessor did. Justus had to correct mistakes of his own making. Assigning Aventine to pier duty to oversee the general shipments was a mistake, he had quickly realized. The man was too diligent to the point of annoyance, and he did not let one unlabeled box go unnoticed. Justus was full aware that his involvement in this illegal trade could have been uncovered, and he did not want to know what kind of punishment would follow. But short of framing Marius and having him arrested and physically removed, Justus was at a loss with what to do. But something will have to be done, he thought sourly. “That should do it.” Elam shut the box tight, securing the lock. Justus nodded. "Leave the payment at the end of the pier, and we're done." “Payment will be given after I receive confirmation that this shipment is secured at the Cove.” Elam said the impertinent words as though no argument would be brooked. “That has never been the deal," Justus said with a glower. "Payment always has been up front.” The Highlander gave him a smirk, his dark gaze cold and steady. “My employer does not appreciate not receiving something he has already paid for. I believe the last shipment was sent back to your warehouse after it was confiscated.” The Garlean’s upper lip twitched. “That was because of your agent’s sloppy handling. That fiasco nearly exposed me.” “Pretty sure the payment you received well made up for your anxiety.” The Highlander’s growling voice was almost mocking. It only further deepened Justus’ indignation. “Anyroad, you're selling the exact same merchandise back to us a second time, aren't you?” Elam laid a hand on the box he just closed. Justus remained silent, although his eyes narrowed just slightly. Without knowing the full inventory of all the weapons, there was no way the Highlander could know that. The corner of his lip twitched slightly, and the third eye intently stared at the man. Elam snorted, seemingly amused. “Aye, silence tells me all I need to know. Really, I don’t care. I'm not the one paying for this. My employer is, and for whatever reason he’s willing to do it twice." The Highlander smiled a smile that did not reach his dark eye. "Maybe he's just a nice guy.” He finally just waved a hand once, dismissively. “Not my business. I'm just here to make sure all goes smoothly. Glad it has.” The Garlean curled an ugly snarl, displeased by the very tone of this exchange. An Ala Mhigan savage--mocking him. Justus cared not for the overall politics of the Empire, so long as it promoted his own wealth, but he still saw these lesser tribes for what they were. He couldn’t stomach the thought that the warlike Ala Mhigans, rustic backwater people like the Hingans, and the bestial Xaela tribes somehow succeeded in liberating occupied lands from the Imperial hold. “My side has been well secured,” Elam continued, throwing a tarp over the box, and gesturing to a few Hyurs who had been waiting behind him to carry the crate away. He gave a pointed look at the Garlean. “Make certain the same can be said on your end, eh?” “There will be no mistake on my end.” Justus’ answer was sharp and clipped. Elam gave him a nonchalant shrug and turned, leaving the pier without another word.

“Are you certain you do not want us to take care of this?” The two servants, Aldwyn and Estrid, hovered near him. They were in their usual subservient hunched pose, hands clasped in front of them... but the look they gave Marius was one of bewilderment. After all, cleaning the bath and emptying out the bathwater were a part of their duties. No Imperial soldiers would ever deign to clean up after the dignitaries have taken their leisurely soaks. It was true that soldiers were also never asked to deliver the bath water before Marius came, but the servants never mentioned it again after Justus dismissed them that first time. Ever since, Aldwyn and Estrid just lingered about nearby, waiting for a command from Marius to do whatever was necessary. But such orders never came from him. Marius preferred to do whatever he could himself. The two Hyurs, who were much older than he--perhaps in their fifties, had been serving the Consulate for years. They carried out their duties without complaint and did all that was ordered of them punctually and efficiently. At first, Marius thought they would be relieved that certain duties had been lifted from their shoulders. He would happily let them do as they pleased as he went about completing whatever Justus had ordered him to in their stead. But soon, Marius began to realize that they felt a certain measure of unease when one their duties was being performed by another. They held to the belief that their worth was measured by their work. So Marius stopped dismissing them, instead accepting their help with quiet gratitude. And they, in turn, seemed more content in carrying on about their day. But in this task, Marius refused their aid. “Only on this particular occasion, I must insist.” Marius gave an apologetic smile as he lifted one edge of the tub, to drain the water back out. Instead of emptying it through the usual drain into the sewers, he was pouring the water back out into large barrel. This seemed to confuse the two servants greatly. “Perhaps he has become addled from the heat,” Marius heard Aldwyn whisper to Estrid. “Too much work,” Estrid nodded back with a deeply concerned look. Marius stood after the last of the water was poured into the barrel. He chuckled and gave them a bright smile. “You two worry too much. I am of sound of mind. It’s just that... this particular bath water, I would like to take care of myself.” He waved them off. “Do go on. I am certain you have other things to tend to.” When the two shuffled off, still wearing matching worried looks, Marius heaved the barrel into his arms, and began to make his way out of the manse. It was true that Justus did not order this of him, but it was a task he felt he needed to attend to himself. “The water at this spring is cheerful. It is well-loved, and knows it,” she had said. What a peculiar sun it had been. He had broken his own streak of thirty suns without any incident in delivering the bath water until earlier today. He had the misfortune of crashing into a foreign Hyur woman in the middle of the street, and rather tragically soaking her to the bone with the barrel of water he had been tasked to deliver. He still remembered clearly the woman on the ground, the water sinking into the dirt around her. Her deep red hair clung to her face, as rivulets of water traveled alongside her green eyes, with a few droplets lingering on her lashes. She seemed more surprised than anything that the water was warm. But not only had she shown no anger, she proceeded to show him something strange and miraculous. She spoke to the next barrel of water he retrieved and told him that the water had agreed, as a favor, to stay warm for many bells. Or until it touched the sea. Marius was slow to believe it, even though he had read about Hearers long before coming to Kugane. Reading was his love, and learning about foreign tales and histories had always fascinated him so. And yet, when he read about the strange creatures of this place called the Black Shroud, he had imagined both Hearers and the Children of the Forest as miniature childlike people with horns. At least that was what he allowed himself to imagine. Liadan was the furthest thing from a horned child. Her face actually reminded him of another, a childhood vision that had long been absent from his mind. He had stared at her, rather shamelessly so, at first. She did not seem to notice. Instead, she spoke of her teachings. “We are taught to seek balance in all things, that to know how to mend, you must know how to break. But I did not journey this far from home to break others. I came to calm storms and heal wounds.” Her words held a certain poetic beauty that still moved him. All he could do was to invite her to dine with him before she left the port city. The sounds of the ocean returned his attention to the scenery before him. He had reached the end of the pier, and the moonlight shimmered over the deep blue horizon. “Now, into the sea you go,” Marius whispered into the barrel as he kneeled at the edge and poured the contents out. Steam rose and warmed his face as the hot spring water descended into the ocean. As she had said, the water kept its promise and did not cool until then. He could almost imagine it swirling happily before scattering into the sea. Marius smiled, and made his way back to the Consulate. It had been a peculiar sun indeed.

Oh wow! Thank you so much! :blush:

I am up for either! Sometimes I just have him patrol about in Kugane if I have nothing else planned so hit me up! And or scheduling something ahead of time is fine too so we have something set.

Yes!! I do love conflict. I am looking forward to it!

Not at all! I shall await your PM.

I thought I'd throw up a post here to see if I can find some more connections. Stalwart Sentry is a Garlean soldier stationed in Kugane. His wiki is in the signature, and here is the link to a little story bits about him. I am interested in Marius coming across anyone. Higans, Domans, Eorzeans, AND other Garleans! And while the former is pretty numerous, the Garlean characters are few and far in between, especially in Kugane! I would like to meet you! And if your character wants to be intimidated (or not) by a Garlean soldier in full uniform please let me know! I'd be happy to jump in. But for story reasons, Sentry is stationed primarily in Kugane currently. That may change down the road, we will see. Please contact me here or via PMs if you would like to arrange something. I am looking forward to meeting you!

Everything hurt. Marius lowered himself slowly against the tiles, all of his muscles aching in protest. The day had been full of laborious tasks, none that he had imagined would be part of his duty as a Garlean Consulate guard. But Justus seemed to take great pleasure in assigning him tasks that no other guards seemed obligated to perform. It was all under the facade of “educating the new arrival” but Marius knew better. He hoped that it was only temporary, an initiation or a whim perhaps, rather than what would be his daily routine for as long as Justus saw it fit. His gaze rose to the skies above and the moon that was slowly making its trek to its zenith The sloped slant of the Hingan rooftops allowed a natural recline, allowing him an easy view of both the starry skies and the landscape beneath. Even after a fortnight, he still found it breathtaking. Since arriving in the port city, he often found himself staring at all the foreign details, from the vibrantly colored banners, to the painted lanterns, the array of colorful umbrellas hanging above a vendor stand, to the paper wall partitions that separated the rooms. And at night, an entirely new vision beguiled his senses, the city’s rich colors emblazoned with strokes of lights and shadows that painted the city anew. Views like this at the end of a long day eased his thoughts. Whatever pains that plagued his body slowly seeped away as he took comfort in the cool breeze rolling in from the pier. Marius far preferred unwinding on the rooftops rather than retiring to his small windowless room in the Consulate. He even pondered venturing to the Umineko Tea House to try the teas there. He had heard from a passing resident that the establishment was known for their flavorful drinks. Of course, whenever he neared anyone while in uniform in hopes of hearing more details, most often fell to a nervous silence. They all seemed to respect (or more likely fear) his presence, and none offered a friendly smile nor a spontaneous conversation. It was probably for the best, for it would be frowned upon if he were to actually try and socialize with the natives. Still, his curiosity tugged at him. He was in a foreign city after having travelled across the seas; it was an opportunity for exploration and learning that he could not resist. He imagined he would not gain any guidance from the natives however. Hingans were polite enough, but not social, at least not to him. Fortunately, they weren’t like the citizens in an occupied state; there were no hostilities -- open or repressed. But their unease about him was still discernable. And then there were the other foreigners, whose dislike for his uniform was obvious to anyone paying attention. He suddenly wished Atticus were here. His friend always knew how to stay just within the rules and yet somehow justify bending them. Atticus was the one that would always convince him that reckless ideas still had merit. Had Marius tried the same on his own, he surely would have met with far worse consequences than being sent to Kugane. Atticus was always more charismatic than he, influential or not. What would his friend say now? The mumbling of voices and distant laughter drew his attention to a group of people walking through the streets below, and some of them were holding what looked to be colorful round pastries arranged on skewers. They were leisurely chatting with each other as they made their way toward the Inn at the end of the avenue. Drucilla would probably enjoy those treats, he thought. There were no rules against partaking in the offerings this city had to offer, after all. He just had to be careful not to tarnish the Imperial repute. But if he was out of uniform… none of the natives would recognize him patronizing their stores. Besides, if he did not explore what the Hingans had to offer here in the city, what would he show his sister when she visits? He owed it to Drucilla to at least do the research. Justus may not approve of it, but Marius was not beholden to his superior officer during his offtime. And if he went about it at night, likely not many would notice him. Besides, Hingans were too cordial to pry anyway. A grin split across his lips as he rose.

The large barrel thunked onto the ground, the steaming water within jostling with the movement and splashing his arm. The heat only stung a little, and Marius was relieved that it was still plenty warm. “This one better be hot.” Justus pushed off leisurely from his post at the Garlean Consulate gate. His voice remained slightly muffled behind the helm that marked all Garlean soldiers in Kugane, but his air of superiority came through loud and clear. Justus had only been in Kugane for a year before Marius arrived, but he took delight in receiving the newly-assigned soldier to delegate all the work he deigned not bother himself with. Justus leaned over for an inspection and the bath water quickly steamed his mask. He immediately straightened with annoyance and waved toward the gate. Two servants came trotting out. “This one is good enough. You can take it in,” he ordered. “Respectfully sir, we can have our usual contact get the water…” one of the servants murmured with a low bow. There was a pause, but the tilt of the Garlean’s helmet spoke volumes in terms of the disdainful look that must have been behind it. “Know your place and do as you are told,” he snapped, his voice cold in an instant. The servants scurried back into the building with the water in tow. He then turned to Marius, who was still leaning on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Now then. Retrieve two more barrels,” he said with a sneer. Marius lifted his gaze tiredly, his long forelock dripping with sweat. His tunic clung to his chest and his arms still trembled with the exertion of running through the city three times now. During the first attempt he had gotten lost, and upon delivery, Justus deemed the water too lukewarm. The second attempt, he had tried to take an unfamiliar shortcut and nearly collided with a lalafell who had been bent over to study a vase. In a clumsy attempt to avoid both the Dunefolk and the ceramic work she was studying, Marius had stumbled and tripped, letting the water spill all over the stones of Kogane Dori. It took a lot of apologizing on his part to both the merchant and the lalafell, and the further delay only bought more displeasure from his commanding officer. He supposed he should have been grateful that Justus saw it fit for him to be out of his Garlean uniform as he made his runs. The armor would have only hampered him further. Ironically, it was deemed not dignified for a Garlean soldier to be seen performing such menial tasks. When Marius was slow to rise, Justus lifted his chin scornfully. “Be grateful that this is the way I orient you to the streets of Kugane. You will never forget the quickest way from the Hot Springs to the Consulate now,” he stated with an accompanying snicker. Ignoring his aching back and the burning in his arms, Marius straightened and saluted. “Gratitude, ser.” He was answered with a satisfied snort from Garlean officer who waved him off. With a determined yet resigned furrow to the brow, he turned around and began trotting towards the Rakuza District. Marius was well familiar with the likes of his superior officer. Sympathy and leniency were never a virtue within the military, and Marius had long grown used to such treatment -- especially since he was not pure-blooded. Nor did he come from a family of any real influence. But he had climbed up and off of the bottom rung before, and knew he could do it again. And at least he could not deny that Justus was right about one thing. He would not soon forget the route to the Bokaisen Hot Springs.

I. Basic Info Characters: Stalwart Sentry. For more character information, you can peruse his wiki here. Primary character: Stalwart Sentry II. RP Style Amount of RP (light, medium, heavy): I’d say Medium to Heavy. I am currently in the process of getting through the MSQ content, but I am always willing to set that aside for RP! Feel free to poke me if you see me around, and don’t hesitate to walk up if I have the RP tag up. Or if I am walking. Walking always means I am in character. Views on RP combat and injuries: I am definitely open to combat and injuries. Garleans are bound to get into conflict with others after all! I prefer freeform over dice (unless the encounter is being explicitly run with dice) for most random encounters. I do not accept auto-hitting nor someone else deciding what type of injuries is inflicted on my character. I am fine with Marius being injured, or even losing, but death and permanent maiming and such, I reserve the right to decide for my own character. And I do not like fighting for the sake of fighting, it should make sense narratively and this is RP. It should also be a cooperative effort! And fun! Views on IC romance: I am open to romance, it adds more depth into the story and the character, I feel. What I am not open to is IC interactions leading into OOC drama. Romance is to be strictly kept in character please. Views on non-romantic RP (family ties, etc): This sounds like such a broad category to cover. Of course I would like RP that is outside of romance! Family RP wise? I already have the history of his immediate family set, although they are all NPCs. Other than that, I am certainly am open to discussing characters having past acquaintances and a shared history. Views on lore: I try to adhere to the lore as much as possible, but admittedly, there isn’t a lot when it comes to Garlemald. I am aware I may have to retcon some details in the future, but I am trying to keep things vague in certain areas if possible because of this. Feel free to let me know if you notice anything on my part that undisputedly contradicts lore. I am happy to adjust. Otherwise, unless it is something that completely breaks the established setting, I am likely going to roll with it if it makes sense. Views on chat functions (/say, /linkshell, etc): Say and all emotes are in IC. Tells may or may not be IC. Party chats can be predetermined. LS chats are usually not IC unless it is an RP LS. III. Other Info Country:United States Timezone: PST Contact info: Please PM me here. I will try and check daily. [align=center][glow=blue]~Special announcements can be found in the posts below~[/glow][/align]

“Kugane?!” Marius winced at Drucilla’s sudden shrill question. Even though he had expected something of an outburst, her high-pitched voice, fueled with indignation, still bore into his senses. The fact that his room in the attic was an effective echo chamber did not help. He said nothing in return and continued to pack his bags. Drusilla spun toward him, her hands on her hips. His silence only infuriated her more. Her lavender eyes seemed to shift to an icy hue as a veil of shadow crossed the whole of her features. In contrast, the platinum blonde hair that flowed past her waist seemed to gain more of an unnatural pallor, lending the illusion of a wrathful ghost standing across the room from him. It was never a pretty sight when his sister was upset. “Why in the world are you being transferred to that ill-forsaken place in the middle of nowhere?” She strode toward him, her lilac dress billowing out, and Marius could imagine she was floating, ghostlike, across the room. He wasn’t sure if envisioning his sister as an apparition either helped or hurt the situation. But it was certainly (oddly) amusing. “Is this because you were demoted? Is this your punishment?” Marius leaned forward, pressing down on the folded clothing, before he closed the bag. His own garments took little room; the was mostly filled with books. Luckily, the position in Kugane had a set uniform; he would not have to worry about what to wear most suns. Even as his sister continued to prattle along, he let his mind wander, imaging the scenery there. The open sea, the foreign architecture, and the Hnigan culture… it filled his lungs with a fresh sort of expectant air that he was not generally afforded, here in his cramped quarters, and he felt a rare sense of rejuvenation. “I thought you would learn the military ways soon enough." Drusilla sighed, a nasal wheeze through her narrow nose. "Everyone does! But no. You could not do the one thing your Centurion ordered you to do. They were insurgents!” “They were children, Drucilla.” Marius’ voice was stern, though it lacked any real ire. “Well, luckily Atticus covered for you. Conscripting is the logical choice over execution anyway… but clearly, your superiors must have noted your hesitance. Why else would you be demoted and sent to an Hingan port, of all places? What do you even do there?” “I will do as I am told.” “Too late for that!” Drucilla spun away from him, her long white locks flowing through the air as she paced back and forth. “I suppose we should be grateful," she sighed. "Had your Centurion seen it as disobedience, you would be facing execution instead.” Her voice had calmed somewhat. She approached the table where the parchment with his transfer orders lay, staring at it balefully. “Relegated to the lowest rung. You will once again be the grunt for all other soldiers there.” She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “And after all your hard work of climbing through the ranks here.” When Drucilla’s head bowed and her hair fell like waterfalls around her face, Marius stepped up behind her and placed his hands upon her arms. He tucked his chin upon her shoulder, and spoke quietly. “Do not worry for me. I will be alright.” When she did not answer, he gave her arms a gentle squeeze. “And the Sekiseigumi enforces a strict no violence rule there. This applies to all in the port city, without exception.” That made his sister turn about, and he thought he spotted a hint of a glisten in her lavender eyes. She had shed her fury, and was less a spectral vision. Marius smiled. “Well, if you somehow managed to be transferred to a non-violent city of all places…” She sighed with a reluctant smirk. “Then you are more clever than I thought.” Marius chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I was just lucky. Thanks to Atticus’ quick thinking, not to mention mother’s pleading to our lord. I am certain he had a hand in deferring my punishment.” Drucilla gave him a skeptical furrow of her brow. “I doubt that. He has never been the same since he lost his family. I do not want to sound cruel, but he is no longer the man you think him to be. I do not think he cares.” She shrugged. “But at least Atticus does. He saved your life.” A certain melancholy pressed upon him with those words. He would certainly miss his best friend and comrade. Marius offered a pitiful smile. “It is a lovely port city. Perhaps he will visit. And you as well!” Drucilla rolled her eyes, but Marius could see that her mood was starting to lighten. “Perhaps I shall. The Empire still has trading ships sailing there after all. I just have to convince my dear husband it is worth the trip.” “And they also have the Thavnairian Consulate there. I know how much you favor their silks,” Marius offered with a gentle prod. Drucilla’s expression finally broke into acquiescing smile. “Alright, I shall speak to Julius about it when I find his mood favorable. But you better write until I manage it!” Her delight soon faded as she frowned soberly at him. “Do not let them overwork you. Hm?” Marius answered with a tilt of his head and helpless shrug. “We are still talking about the Imperial army?” His sister’s eyes slowly narrowed. Not having a comeback, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find -- a pillow, thankfully -- and threw it at him. Marius laughed and feigned surrender as he staggered away after the impact. While neither of them could deny the truth underlying those sentiments, all they could do was laugh about it. He did not know when he would enjoy another such moment with his sister, so he savored it for as long as he could.