Monadi

Goliam pushed aside a pair of Hyur who seemed to be too focused on chatting than watching where they were. "Anyway, you needin' some supplies before we head out of th' city?" he continued. "You haven't mentioned where we are going yet, so how would I know what I need?" she replied with a sly smile. "Gridania." he said flatly, "Goin' to 'ave to head to Ul'dah first, unless yer fond'a six weeks of mountain trekking." "Ul'dah..." Monadi mused. "No, I doubt I will have need of much there. We are taking a boat?" "Swimmin'll take too long." Goliam replies, a grin on his face. "There's almost always a few ships headin' there, may 'ave to sign on a merchant ship or somethin' if yer short on the money." "I am not afraid to work for passage; that is always how I pay for my travels. One who does not work often is sick of both mind and body." "Good." the roegadyn replied, as he continued to trudge his way down the street, the cobbled roads beginning to slowly give way to dirt, and the inhabitants looking less and less friendly to travellers. "Even if I had th' money, I'm not really inclined to payin' yer way." Monadi shook her head. "Nor would I expect you to, Goliam. I am not meant to be a burden to you." She paused for a moment, then asked, "You mentioned earlier that you had a divination performed for you that was not accurate. Do you seek such guidance often?" "All the time." he says, scanning the area they were passing through. "Ah." He makes a quick turn, and goes down a small alley where a man stinking heavily of ale and urine was sleeping in the middle of. "Don' really do any risky ventures without gettin' m'fortune told, or a divination of some sort." He said as he stepped over the drunkard. "I'm'a sailor, we tend ter be a bit on th'... superstitious side." The pair continued to make their way through the alley, finally emerging from it, now in a very, very busy dockyard. The smell of fish, though a constant presence in Limsa-Lominsa, was overwhelming, even for Goliam. As they went, the constant whirling business of the Docks seemed to draw their eyes. Balkers, looking to buy, or sell various goods were yelling. In a corner, a group of sailors were playing dice. "Charmin' isn't it?" Goliam asks, before anyone can respond, a shout is heard from the group of dice players. "YE WEE CHEATIN' ARSE-WEASEL!", followed by a loud gunshot. No one in the dock even seemed to notice. "Was the one you sought it from, then, someone you have used before?" she questioned curiously. "It is not often that a good diviner would be so incorrect with something as straightforward as your last job's success." "It's a bit 'ard to find th' same mystic, they come an' go in this city, jes' like every'n else." The roegadyn's boots making a loud 'thump' with each step on the wooden boardwalk that lead to the docked ships. "An' I can't afford th' ones that're set up in more permanent venues." "A shame, then. You appear to have been swindled." Monadi frowned disapprovingly. "So many looking to make money on a sensitive trade. Fortunately, your days of such problems are over, as you are free to make use of my gift whenever you need. Or anything else that I might do for you. Such as your arm." "Tha' was the plan." Goliam said, stopping in-front of a ship that looked to be loading cargo onto it. "As fer th' magic, I generally prefer t'not rely on it, myself." He looks the ship over, and then cups his hands over his mouth. "OI, WHERE YOU LOT HEADED?" One of the sailors set down the case he was carrying, and walked closer to them. "Ul'dah, why, you lookin' ter book passage, or summat?" "Aye." Goliam replied, "Dependin' on how much yer lookin' ter charge, though I'm more'n happy to work yer way over if that's how we're doin' it." He thrusts a thumb at the Lalafell. "She's a mystic, if you lot are in need'a one of their services." The sailor cocked an eyebrow, "...Oh aye, always 'ave use of one'a those. I'd 'ave to ask Barrow, though, not'm place to make big decisions." Monadi looked pleased. "I hope this Barrow is agreeable," she remarked, looking over the ship with an observant eye. The sailor barked towards the quarter deck, "Mistress Barrow, ma'am, may have some bodies to fill the rosta.'" A male voice could be heard from out of view. "Good gods, Qillag, must you shout like that? We haven't even left port and I'm feeling sick." "Apologies, Master Barrow. Should I have them come aboard, ma'am?" A female voice replied, "Send them up, Qillag, and don't mind my brother." Qillag looked down to the docks. "A'ight you two, look lively," he said, waving them up. Making his way across the rickety gang-plank, Goliam straightened his tricorne, pushed his shoulders back as he made his way into the room. " 'Hoy." he said flatly as he tipped his hat to the two people. "I'm Goliam Cygrus, 'eard you were lookin' for two more hands for the ship." "And my name is Monadi." The lalafell inclined her head slightly. The two hyur were sitting behind a table with a log book and several maps and navigation equipment on it. A male was leaning back in his chair with moist cloth over his face, and the female dressed in semi-formal attire looks to be of the Knights of Barracuda. "Alita Barrow, and you'll have to forgive my brother. Keletin is not feeling well." Keletin give a half-hearted wave, keeping the cloth on his face. "So, Monadi, what can you do on board ship?" "Your crewmen indicated that you might be able to make use of a mystic aboard ship." Monadi untied her pouch of divining stones from her belt, then took a few out for display in her outstretched hand. "I have been told that sailors are a superstitious lot, yes?" Goliam's face grew into a bit of a scowl. 'Yer not supposed ter SAY it.' he thought to himself. Alita smiled, scribbling notes into the log. "A mystic would certainly be a welcome presence especially for a maiden voyage." "Especially if a woman's the captain," Goliam mumbled to himself, feeling a bit on edge. "A maiden on a maiden voyage... 12 be damned." Alita began to laugh. "Even I wouldn't be foolish enough to be on a maiden voyage, no I'm merely overseeing my fathers interest. My duties keep me to the port here. Captain Mathias will oversee the voyage." "75 Gil, bedding, food and passage," Alita continued to Monadi. "Will that be satisfactory?" "I personally have no need of the gil, but the rest is quite generous," Monadi replied. "Thank you for the opportunity." Goliam lifted his hand, "I would prefer to be paid, however." "Excellent," she accepted, turning the roster to face Monadi. "Make your mark, And you, Goliam, what skills can you bring to the ship?" "Born on a ship, worked and lived on a ship since I was of age." He smiles, and pulls the tip of his tricorne a bit lower. "Worked damn near any position but navigator, includin' cook. An' shot more than m'share of rats doin' any skullduggery." he added, patting the left side of his coat. A muffled metallic clunk is heard from it. "I also meant no disrespect, Ma'am, just seen what bad luck c'n do to a ship." he adds. Keletin piped up, "Great sis, your faith in superstitions makes me feel all that much better!" "Nervous sailors make mistakes," Goliam said. "Luck favors the prepared," Monadi mused as she scribbled on the roster. Ignoring them all, Alita offered to Goliam, "I think the quarter master could use someone like you. 130 Gil standard crewman rate. Satisfactory?" "Aye, that'll be jes' fine." he said, nodding as he scrawled his name onto the page sloppily. "Qillag will show you below. You'll be sailing with the tide." She turned to Keletin. "Give father my best, I'll see you in 3 months. May Llymalaen give you smooth seas, brother." "She just better get me to land! Rock solid LAND!" Keletin exclaimed. "I'll find 'im." Goliam nodded, and began to make his way out, waving for Monadi to follow. "I trust you'll be alright without me keeping an eye on you?" he asked as they made it across the deck. "Oi! Where's Qillag?" he called out to the sailors around before moving in the direction they indicated. "Of course, Goliam. This is not my first time aboard a ship." She smiled mildly. "Though I did not ask for you to watch after me, you know. Just to allow me to follow." "Very well, time to go stow our things... it's going to probably take around a week or so to get to Ul'Dah." "I'd plan for a bit longer," she mumbled, putting a few stones back into her pouch.

Goliam's brow furrowed. "Uh-huh, an' where exactly do you want me to be taking you." "Wherever it is that you wish to go." The lalafell nodded knowingly as the roegadyn stared at her. "Yes, I know that doesn't make any sense now, but what I am asking for is permission to follow you." His brow still furrowed, he looked about, as if he was expecting a table full of people to be trying to hide hysterical laughter at the situation, but after a moment, looked back. "Care t' share WHY yer wantin' to follow me?" He takes a heavy swig from his tankard, "Or is it jes' for my obvious charm 'n wit?" "Of course, I will explain it, if you wish," she answered, reaching to her belt and untying a small cloth pouch. Straining to reach over the top of the table, she suddenly dumped its contents out. Twelve cut stones of various sizes and luminosity spilled onto the wooden table, making a loud clatter as they hit and drawing the attention of nearby parties. Paying no mind to the multiple pairs of eyes now drawn to her, she slowly surveyed the stones. "See," she said simply. "The blue is the only one that came up spirit. Like your coat." "That's a rather vague divination." Goliam said, loudly tossing his spoon into the now emptied bowl of stew. "Can' be the only one wearin' blue in here." "Actually, you are," she said, pointing around. "And even if there were, I know you're the right one to follow. I saw it in a dream." The Roegadyn leaned back into his chair, and sighed, rubbing his chin for a moment. "Goin' ter guess yer somethin' of a mystic." He leaned forward, and looked at the small stones, picking one up. It didn't seem to change at all as he turned it, as if it wasn't even reflecting light. "Alrigh', whats your name, little Mystic," he said, with a tone that sounded as if he had resigned his resistance against the strangeness of the situation. "My name is Monadi." She began scooping the stones back into the bag, struggling to reach the ones that had tumbled to the roegadyn's side of the table. "And yours?" He shoved the few stray stones toward her. "It's Goliam, Goliam Cygrus." He raises a hand, and the waitress makes her way over. "Jes' so ye know, I'll be expectin' you to at least hold your own if you're goin' to follow me." Monadi pulled the last remaining stones into the bag. "I am trained some in magical combat, if that's what you mean." "Not quite." he said, sliding a few coins to the waitress without bothering to look. "I'm used to most of th' people I escort bein' about as useful in combat as an armless Miqo'te." The waitress's tail bristled a bit at the comment as she left the table. He gives a quick glance in her direction and chuckles. "Come, Little one, I've got a couple of stops to make." Monadi enthusiastically hopped off the chair, seemingly pleased to be moving again. "Lead the way then, Goliam." The pair made their way out of the Drowning Wench, and began working their way through the crowded streets of Limsa-Lominsa. Goliam was making something of a large wake as he walked, giving the little lalafell quite a bit of room to hustle behind. "I've got an injury I need taken care of." he said, barely bothering to make sure she was keeping up with him. Tottering along quickly behind him, Monadi seemed slightly wowed at the size of the roegadyn, stretching out her arms to measure the large shadow she was walking in that stretched out behind him. "You'll have to forgive me, I did not ask about your arm. What happened?" The question was met with notable silence, however, and she resolved herself to be silent and observe for the moment. The pair reached a rather ratty wooden building, with a heavily pock marked and worn sign reading "Medical Clinic" over it. Goliam shouldeed his way through the heavy door without a word, which screeched in protest as they went through. The clinic, despite it's terrible outside appearance, was actually rather clean and well organized. A small desk sat near the entrance, with a bespectacled male Elezen sitting at it. "Ah-- Mister Cygrus, I trust you've been sufficiently injured to be bothering me..." the Elezen, who was most likely the doctor, said pointedly, not looking up from a stack of papers in front of him. "You could say that." Goliam replied, lifting his bandaged arm. The doctor looked up, and pushed the glasses further up onto his nose as he looked. "That will do." He motions to a seat near a rather intimidating tray filled with tools, and jars with various fluids in them. As he made his way over, he noticed the lalafell. "Take a seat, would you?" the Elezen doctor said as he began picking up the tools, dipping them into a jar of clear fluid. "It's not wise to let your escortees see you being injured, you know." "I'd not really call this a usual escort job." Goliam said, looking over at her after hefting his arm up, and beginning to work loose the bandages. "Besides, it's tingling, an' I do recall you sayin' that meant to come get it disinfected." "Indeed." the doctor responded, finally opening the bandages all the way, revealing a heavily stained and crusty set of teeth marks. "Do I even want to know what happened?" "Some damn fool 'scientist' from Gridania hired me to go take a gander at the wild-life." Goliam replied, his voice a half-growl as the doctor began dabbing a medicated cloth on the wounds. "He kept 'alf a cured steak in his damn bag an' didn't expect 'em to be attracted to it." Shaking her head slightly, Monadi found an unobtrusive corner of the room to stand in. For a moment she listened intently to the two talk, curious to have her ignored question answered, before chanting a short prayer under her breath. "Hold still, this is going to sting." the doctor said, pulling out a small syringe filled with a grey-green liquid, and stabbing it into his arm. "GOD'S BALLS!" Goliam screeched, nearly jumping out of the chair. "I told you it was going to sting." the doctor said icily. "You said STING, that hurt worse than th' raptor's bite." Goliam roared back. "Quit your whining, you're a grown man." he said, and began sewing up the larger wounds. "Besides, it was heavily infected, it would hurt much worse if it started rotting all the way through." The Roegadyn's teeth were clinched as the doctor continued his work. Monadi nearly chuckled, breaking the rhythm of her chanting. One eye slowly took in the image of Goliam, obviously racked with pain, before she began again, doubling her efforts. "I assume you were at least paid well for your efforts?" the doctor asked, cleaning his tools off and watching Goliam as he flexes his arm, testing the strength of the stitches. "...Not even, the little rat scuttled the escort, and paid me a quarter of what he owed me." "Not even enough to cover the twelve shots I used with my pistol, let alone this." The doctor paused, and turned back to Goliam, giving a cold look. "I hope that doesn't mean you'll be trying to put this on a 'tab'." Goliam shook his head, and grinned. "Not a big enough of a fool to try and pull that over you." He pulled out his coin-purse and poured out a roegadyn-sized handful, setting it onto the doctor's desk. "Thanks for the help, doc." He began to put his longcoat with the heavily tattered sleeve back on and motioned to Monadi. "Unless you're needing to be patched up, little one, we're done here." Monadi opened her eyes again, abruptly cutting off her chant and reaching for her stone purse. She slipped in a hand and pulled one of the stones partially out before slipping it back in and closing the purse again. "So it seems," she nodded agreeably. "Off we go then." "Yar." he replied, pushing his way through the loudly squeaking door. "You'll 'ave to pardon my earlier rudeness," he called back to her as they make their way down the streets once more. "I was expectin' an easy escort, especially when m'card reading came up so positive. Instead, I get a chewed arm an' less money than I started with."

((Though I am the poster, I cannot take credit; this roleplay is being written in tandem and is co-authored by many members of Oschon at-Ta'ih.)) The loud hustle and bustle of the Drowned Wench never really seemed to cease. Which was generally a good thing, it was without a doubt the biggest hub for all the land-lubbers straight off the ferries from the mainland. They always needed something, an escort, advice, or a strong knock across the head. Whatever it was, the regulars of the Tavern were usually happy to oblidge them. Especially if it was the Latter. As for why Goliam was there, well, it wasn't quite so jolly. He pushed his way through the door, wearing a thick blue long-coat that looked like it had gone a few rounds too many with an angry beasty of the tooth-mawed variety. His heavy boots thumped across the wooden floor as he went, his eyes locked on one particular table. One that was empty, and near the fire. Before he could reach his seat, however, he was stopped by a bubbly Miqo'te waitress, wearing an overly frilly apron, and had just a bit-too-much spring in her step for Goliam's taste. "Welcome to the Drowned Wench, sir, what can I get for you?" He stopped, looked at her sternly for a moment, "You can let me get to my damned seat first." the Roegadyn grunted to her. The Miqo'te's ears drooping at bit from the rather harsh comment. "Oh, of course sir." She stepped to the side, and he took of his long-coat, pulled back the wooden chair, and sat down on it slowly, seemingly nervous of it potentially snapping under his weight. The entire time the waitress stood there nervously eyeing him. "..So-- errr--- what would you like, sir?" "...Stew, and Ale, and not that watered down crap you give to the out-of-towners." he said flatly, not even bothering to look at her, instead keeping his eyes fixed on a rather soiled set of bandages wrapped about his left arm. "Right away, sir!" she said happily, and quickly walked away, the spring in her step restored. Goliam shook his head. "Miqo'te." As he waited he stared at his bandages, playing with them a bit. "Dozen damned, I think it's infected." he pulled them a bit tighter, then winced slightly. "Gonna cost even more to get that treated... Bloody Raptors." "Looks like you have had a rough day," a high-pitched voice sounded at him from below the roegadyn's line of sight. Peering down, he saw an bronze-skinned lalafell woman staring right back, a pleasant look upon her face. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" Goliam stopped and looked her over for a moment. "Where did you come from?" He pauses, and shrugs, seemingly disinterested in hearing the answer to his last question. "Eh-, take a seat, better you than another bloody swarm'a the Miqo'te." "Do you have something against the Miqo'te?" the woman asked evenly as she pulled herself up into the accompanying chair across from Goliam. Sitting down, she was so small that only her neck and head could be seen popping up above the table's surface. Her face was caught in a mild smile, seemingly in thought. "Though, 'swarm' might be appropriate," she continued absent-mindedly. "Classical studies have always surmised that the Miqo'te are fewer in number than what they seem to be. Especially in places like this." "They breed faster than Rarabs." the Roegadyn said, his eyes ocassionally flicking down to his bandaged arm. "That, and they always seem to be up ter something, an' too damn cheerful." He dragged his bandaged arm off the table as the waitress returned with his order. After setting down a rather gargantuan bowl filled to the brim with what looked like seafood stew, as well as an accompanying tankard, the waitress paused. She looked to the lalafell, and blinked, as if confused. "Can I get you something?" she asks after a moment or two of silence. "No, I'm not here for that. But thank you," the Lalafell replied. As the waitress shrugged good-naturedly and headed off to another table, the Lalafell took a deep breath through her nose, taking in the aroma of the Roegadyn's food before continuing. "I suppose you would like to ask me a similar question, yes?" she said. Goliam just stared at her, shovelling a spoonful of the stew into his mouth, and chewing. His eyes still looking her over, he took his time, then finally swallowed and sighed. "Yeah, actually." he thrusts a thumb over at a group of people who were conversing rather loudly. All dressed in rather outrageous garb. "Exactly how fresh off the ferries *are* ya, and what is it exactly that you want?" "If you are asking if I am a tourist or merchantwoman like the others here, I am sorry to say that I am not." The lalafell shrugged. "I am here to hire an escort. Specifically, you. I hope that you are not otherwise employed?" Goliam nearly choked on the stew he was chewing on. "Specifically me?" he said, clearing his throat, and wiping his mouth with his hand. "I just finished a 'job' of a kind, but.. frankly I've got some business to attend to before I can do anything." He drags the tankard over to the edge, and takes a heavy swig from it. "Before I go turnin' ye down, though, what exactly are you needin' an escort for?" The lalafell smiled. "It would be difficult to say, exactly, what the job is for, but... is it important? You appear to be the type that can handle danger." He looked down at his arm once more, and gave a quick chuckle. "Suppose that'd be obvious." He gives her another fast look over, then goes back to his stew, still eating rather slowly. "I need to know three things first, before I agree." He raises one finger off of the spoonful of stew he was bringing to his mouth. "Firs', is it legal." He paused and chewed for a moment, but spoke before finishing, "Secon', where exactly are ye goin'." The Roegadyn swallows, and wipes his mouth again. "Do I 'ave some time to run a few errands, I just got off a job." "All of that depends on you, roegadyn," the lalafell replied. "I am not taking you anywhere; it is you who will be taking me."

I think age requirements are perfectly valid. I'm sure there are some family-friendly guilds out there that would be happy to accept minors without complaint. I don't think it's particularly appropriate to complain about a guild's rules, however. The leaders of Baltazar's may have their own reasons for their choices, but they shouldn't need to defend them. Like voice communications, age limitations are one of those topics that we'll all have to agree to disagree and choose a guild that reflects what we personally want and need.

I just remembered one of the things that drives me most crazy: descriptions of eyes. Seriously. We used to have a guild application question that read "Are your character's eyes described as 'burning', 'piercing', 'haunting' or 'enchanting'?" If the answer was yes to any of those, usually we had a Mary Sue on our hands. :lol: Just in case it hasn't been posted yet, you can check if your character might be a little too "over the top" with this Universal Mary-Sue Litmus Test.

I honestly could go either way with that myself. Personally I don't mind having my name out there so much, but there's a lot of room for abuse and stalking. My guildies already know who I am and where I live anyway though, so I'm probably screwed. :lol:

I actually believe it's more common lately than people realize. I'd have to agree with this. ESPECIALLY in game communities where there's a high frequency of interaction and a lot of topics discussed beyond what got nerfed this week. So, like this one.

ALL THE PLOTS MUST REVOLVE AROUND ME. Seriously. They must. :lol:

CUTE /offtopic

I'm angry on the internet! :evil: also, this: http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/duty_calls.png

I'm actually not sure why some dude making a joke about being drunk warranted a correction of "actually, I don't drink" in the first place, as I honestly doubt he meant it about you personally. Come now though, this is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who. Let's talk about bad spelling, instead. Bad spelling is always interesting.

My scars? I had an unfortunate accident when I opened my box of morning cheerios and out popped an enraged raptor riding a shark. Don't ask.

Probably best to leave it right there.

I think it was something that beta testers were using to communicate; dunno if the rest of us scrubs can join. :lol:

Is he? That's awesome. :approve:

I just ran across this from a recent article at Massively, and it made me lol. Money quotes: The article goes on to state that even though we all know it's a bad idea, we do it anyway. Cause we're roleplayers, and to really play a role, you have to deal with your character's attractions, for better or worse.

Whooo second Oschon /religious five :cheer: Oschon for me too. :approve: