Roen

"Keep your arms straight,” Khadai said. The Au Ra placed his gloved hand beneath an Elezen youth’s elbow, leveraging his arm. The teen's hand was visibly shaking from the tautness of the bowstring, but his thin face held an expression of steady determination. "Release." The Elezen groaned slightly as his fingers snapped away from the string, the distinct twang sending the arrow sailing away from the wall. The target at the end of the rampart remained untouched. Despite this lackluster result, the Xaela warrior nodded sagely. "That was an arm's length closer to your target. With proper practise your strength and aim will improve.” A Midlander boy, barely a few years younger than the Elezen teenager, frowned. "An' when are we be usin' swords?" Khadai raised an eyebrow. "Knowledge of the bow will serve you well in the long run. Try again." There was a group of five boys--two Elezen and three Hyur--who all groaned aloud but nonetheless picked up a series of recurve bows. They were an unkempt bunch, quivers loosely tied to their waists. "Practice drawing from the quiver and nocking. Repeat this motion." In one smooth motion, the Au Ra withdrew the mahogany bow mounted on his back and in three smooth motions, drew, nocked, and fired three arrows in quick succession into a crude wooden target mounted at the end of the rampart. He repeated the gesture several times, refraining from firing the arrows in order to demonstrate the motion of properly nocking an arrow. "Swords are not necessary for hunting; a sword is a weapon designed specifically to combat other individuals, not animals or dragons. If you intend to enter the armed forces, you must learn other skills of value. Doubtless they will invest in teaching swordsmanship." It was this exchange that Roen watched in silence, standing a few fulms away with her arms crossed. Her initial surprise had given way to curiosity, for the awkward aloofness no longer seemed to plague the Xaela as he continued to give instructions to what seemed to be young denizens from the Brume. She had been looking around the city for Khadai, her belt pouch weighed with an object she had obtained for him earlier. She had hoped to make amends after their last discourse, and share the news of her newest (and first) investment in a business venture. It would serve others, likely the kind of people that the Xaela was teaching now. "The bow, the hatchet, the spear, and the dagger. I will teach these four, and thus you will be sufficiently equipped to learn realistic combat.” Khadai answered succinctly. The boys groaned again, one muttering about swords, but despite their protests, they dutifully returned to their practice. They were a clumsy bunch, fumbling the arrows--one boy had a prominent bruise on his face where the top of the bow had recoiled into his face--but amidst their disorganized appearance they stuck their tongues out of their lips and furrowed their brows in concentration. "Ser, I want to try the target again." The Elezen that had sent the arrow flying off of the battlements ceased his practice. Khadai stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Show the steps." The boy entered into a firing stance, the Au Ra stepping around the teen, occasionally tapping the youth's heels with his own. "Closer. You lack stability. Relax your arms, keeping the top parallel with your line of sight." He nodded once more in approval. "Ready an arrow." The boy reached his right hand around to the quiver hanging against his waist, pulling an iron-tipped arrow. He placed the fletching against the bowstring, leaving the bow itself pointed down. "Raise." The boy raised his arms, pointedly keeping his left arm as straight as he could. "Do not be rigid. The energy from the bowstring will snap back into your limbs. Firm, but not tense. Draw. Eye the target. Release." With a twang the arrow let loose and pierced the flimsy wooden target with a satisfying thunk. Nowhere near the red circle that had been painted on it… but it hit. Khadai nodded. "It will become easier as your strength increases." Roen strode up behind them, the corner of her eyes crinkling slightly as she watched the arrow hit the edge of the target. "Lessons. I had not expected such things from you." The Au Ra glanced out of the corner of his eye. "You are the last student to arrive, though your lesson is considerably different." It was odd, the way he spoke--while the Au Ra's statements mostly held true to his habit of speaking straightforwardly, the way he addressed her implied an increased understanding of the language. He had been reserved mostly to simple sentences and direct queries, but there was an unprecedented quality of… not quite eloquence, but a greater degree of sophistication in what he appeared to express. Roen arched a brow. "Am I late?" There was a hint of amusement in her tone. "I was not aware. My apologies." "Take note. You are to learn the steps needed to fix your disjointed society.” He said nothing more as he turned back around, returning to instructing the boys in their archery. The lighter mood washed away from the paladin’s countenance. She stared at his back for a moment, before realizing that she was already frowning. She inhaled and composed her expression again, reminding herself why she had sought him out. To tell him she did heed his last counsel and to offer a Starlight gift in thanks. But the first words from him seemed to be another lecture. Her folded arms curled tighter as she watched him. Khadai was quick to offer praise where he noticed improvement and equally quick to give criticism--none of it scathing or abusive, but matter-of-fact and observing. Aside from the bows and arrows, the boys also wore archery gloves of a standard design that guarded the index and middle finger from the sharp edges of the bowstring. Their clothing was still somewhat tattered but had been mended with loose patches that at least kept the biting wind away from direct contact with their skin. The paladin canted her head, eyeing the equipment that could not possibly have been the youths’ to begin with. "And where did all these training supplies come from?" "I provided the weapons and ammunition with my coin. The cloth used to mend their clothing I salvaged." He clapped his gloved hands together once. "That is enough for today. Do not be eager to strain your muscles. Return and rest. Maintain your practice." One of the boys turned, an eager expression on his face. "You are goin' to be teachin' us swords, yeah? You carry that huge one with you all the time." Khadai shook his head. "Such a skillset is impractical for now. Improve your proficiency and I will consider it." The boys groaned again but were just as quick to run off, playfully hitting and teasing each other with their weapons as they went skipping down the cobbled stone streets. Roen watched the boys depart the ramparts back down to the Brume, renewed energy and spirit lightening their steps. "You... bought them," she murmured and shook her head. "Why are you helping them, of all people?" "Because none are willing. That includes you." Those intense green eyes seem to want to bore straight through her. "This is not my problem to fix. I am certain my own people would disapprove of my actions. It is a waste of my time and effort, better suited to one who understands these lands and their circumstances. I am but a foreigner. I cannot provide them with all they require." He exhaled, his voice a steady rumble. "But they have advanced. It is only a single step, but I do not leave them in the same place where they have been found. Add enough steps together and one travels far." The paladin wrinkled her nose, her forehead creasing with a frown. He was lecturing her again, voicing his disapproval of her inaction. Why did it bother her so? She cared not for derisive comments from many others when she had first come to Ishgard, they were quick to judge and dismiss an outsider. And yet his words, not even spoken with any true disdain still caused her to prickle with unease. "So why are you doing so? Even when your own people would disapprove?" Khadai glanced off to the distance. His expression and body language were the same, but one might have stretched to call it sheepish. "Perhaps it is pride." She flicked a glance at the Au Ra. "Pride?" He did not answer immediately. "What does it say about your people that none are willing to help your own, and yet a foreigner is required to help them advance? I was told that your people are backwards and arrogant. To be careful not to project my expectations of how a society should be for as long as the duration of my assignment persisted." When Roen just stared at him, he continued. "I believed the person in question to be biased. But I see now that what they told me of the Western continent is not without merit." A sharp exhale punctuated her growing scowl. "And yet here you are, trying to prove your views and advance the backward and the arrogant." She rolled her eyes. "How charitable of you." Khadai’s voice dipped slightly. "As I said. Perhaps it is pride. Yet that does not change the fact that some, even one of your peoples is better off because of my pride. Not despite it.” He stood straighter, gazing down. “I said you were a student. This is your lesson. Perhaps you believe these things futile." Her look upon him had turned into a glare, her arms coiling tighter. She recognized her own ire, it was the same one that made her walk away when they last spoke. She had regretted it then, had she not? "There are six of them. Three wish to join the military, the 'Knights', in order to slay dragons. One wishes to explore the world. Another wishes to impress a female. The last wishes to hunt to provide for their familial unit." The Au Ra glanced back down the rampart to the poorer streets below. "At the least, they have advanced one step. They are not in the same place they were in the last sun." Roen exhaled again, trying to focus her thoughts and mood back to the reason she had come to find him. "Your event of charity.” The Xaela continued evenly. “That is what it should have been dedicated to. Advancing. Teach them skills. Provide them tools to learn, a structure for their role to be determined. Not to provide perfunctory amounts of food that will be but forgotten before the next moon, replaced by the return of hunger." He glanced back at her, and his voice took on a more pensive tone. “Perhaps there was some merit to providing food. I will not deny such. That gesture itself… it is not meaningless. But there should have been more. You possess an obligation to provide more to others. That woman who hired us. She possessed resources, and skills I do not know of. She should have provided more." Perfunctory… The paladin ignored the weight at her belt, the pouch that hung there with the gift within. "If you want me to say that you have helped them more than that one night of bringing them something warm to drink, I will not deny it. If you want to say you are a better person than I, then I will not deny that either." Her voice was rising. "If you want me say that you hold more hopes for the people you call mine than I do, then I will certainly not deny that!" This was not why she had sought him out. She did not come to him to give voice to her own bitterness. And yet, his frankness, always seemed to dig up what she thought she buried safely beneath the surface. He was the only one who challenged her so candidly about her detachment. A foreigner, of all people. She did not like it one bit. "What do you want from me, Khadai?” She blurted out, her thoughts retreating. “Was our agreement not for me to guide you where needed? Nowhere in that contract was I to improve what ails this world." He glanced at her. "I have not desired anything from you, nor are you currently beholden to the terms of our agreement. Your involvement has been one of your own choice. Whether you take responsibility for that, too, is your choice. I determine nothing for you." He took a breath, as if to pause their volley. “What is it that you wish? Where do you wish to advance? Is there even one thing that you believe is worth taking a step forward for?" Roen stared at him long and hard. Her lips twitched at his question, and she had no ready answers for him. "I..." she began, then paused. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she leaned against the stone fortifications. "I used to know. So... so clearly. Now... I look back at those things I used to hold so dear... and wonder if it was even possible. Or maybe they were lifted so high that it was just a fantasy." Her grey eyes stared absently at the target at the end of the rampart. "An impossible of a goal." "All mountains appear impossible while you stare from the base." Khadai said quietly. "They can be scaled nonetheless." When the paladin fell silent, the Xaela came to stand next to her. "There were some who claimed that defeating the black ones on our own was impossible. My people's first exposure to the Western continent was to seek a solution to their excursion. An answer was found, and we have adopted the appropriate tactics. It will take time, but the area we reside in, our hunting grounds, and the neighbours we engage in trade with will be free from their influence. With time." He glanced away again, off to the distance. Even on the lowest level of Ishgard, the view of the battlements was a formidable vista of the cliffs of Coerthas and the bridges that connected the levels of the city. "Eventually, I will return home. I will consult with the Aljai and the Tsenkhai as to the happenings of my korum. If the black ones are not defeated by then, I will contribute as Khadai, as I had before I left. The Erdegai seek to improve their craft. To make their weapons but a bit sharper, their tools but a bit lighter. Their furs and leathers more resilient and comfortable. The Yerenai seek to care for the sick, to raise our offspring with greater care than before, to eradicate ailments that appear. The Jungsai ever seek the thrill of the hunt. To provide more food for more people, and to do so with greater speed...and to collect greater trophies attesting to their skill. All have a goal. Something to seek." She peered up at him as he looked away. He looked austere as ever, but there was a hint of longing that rose in his face when he spoke of home. "We will continue to scale the mountain here,” she brooded. “For many more years to come. Perhaps... forever.” She bowed her head again. "Whether you believe it to take one sun or one thousand suns is irrelevant." His eyes turned back toward her. "What matters is that one step is taken forward, at the least. That you not remain in the same place you were before. That you do not let others remain in the same place they were before." The paladin shook her head slightly, her auburn forelocks swaying in the wind. "To listen to you, it is... easy to believe." She sighed. "The idea of changing this world for the better is not foreign to me, Khadai. Do not mistake my indifference, for ignorance." Her admission was a muted thing. "And..." she said as she pushed off from the stone guard. "I argue... against your pride. Not necessarily your ideals." She looked away. "One single step. Those are not impossible, I know." Khadai stared at her for a time before speaking. "Your problems are not my problems to fix, regardless. Perhaps I should not have made the effort." He turned slightly, glancing at the target in the distance. "I will continue instructing the children until their skills are sufficient. After that, what they wish to do will be up to them and your society." Roen too followed his gaze. One hand fell near her belt pouch, brushing up against the round contour there. “If you asked me on that first sun when we met, if you should try and help with this world's problems... I would have told you not to bother. But now..." she murmured. "I am not so sure my answer would be the same." "That is not for me to decide." He said flatly, glancing back over his shoulder toward her. "Condemn my pride as you wish. Perhaps it is justified. I will decide at a later time if fixing your problems is worth devoting my effort to. It is already inefficient and...needless of me, but if I believe it to be futile, I will cease. That is all. Perhaps your indifference is the correct choice of action." Roen narrowed her eyes at him. "My problem? Not my people's problem." She canted her head, surprise clear in her voice. "Why are you trying to help me?" The Au Ra glanced away, off towards the edge of the rampart. "I am not currently engaged in any other activity." The paladin stared at him dubiously, at a lost for words. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms again, her belt pouch all but forgotten. "Well, I do not need fixing. And if I wanted to change how things were... it certainly would not be because of your pride." She looked away again, knowing that her words were not entirely true. It was her own pride talking. "As you say." As silence fell between them, Roen glowered. Once again, all her words came out wrong. Things were not so stiff between them when they had talked while trapped by a storm. But since Starlight, she had been on the edge. She let out a sigh, at least wanting to clear up one misconception. "The Elezen woman, Lady Dufresne. You are wrong about her. She uses her business to hire commoners in the Brume. From what I understand, she tries to hire those that are willing to work and need the work to feed themselves. An unpopular decision amongst the society she needs to socialize with but..." She shrugged. “It is her way." “As you say,” Khadai reiterated, this time more quietly. “Perhaps not all of you are hopeless, then." He straightened. "Regardless, I hope you have learned something from this. I will attend to my hunts." Roen watched him stride the length of the rampart toward the main city gates. She exhaled sharply and kicked an errant pebble off the edge of the parapet as she walked away in the opposite direction.

The parchment was slid across the table, one gloved finger tapping just above the number written at the bottom of the document. Roen stared at the inked amount, her lips parting without words. The rest of the tiny, numerous letters on the page was a blur but the sum noted on the bolded line arrested her gaze with disbelief. “Mister Sebastian Redgrave has left you quite a bit of wealth, Miss Deneith.” Jeulerand Ganathain laced his fingers in front of him on the polished oaken table, calmly looking at the woman who seemed to be stunned speechless. “We were wondering when you would come by to claim the funds. That number is the total net worth of the possessions and intangible properties left in your name.” When she blinked and looked up at him with a bewildered expression, the Wildwood continued with a pleasant smile. “It is enough to start a company. Or perhaps if you are in the same enterprise as Mister Redgrave, purchase an airship if you want to delve into the shipping business? Or rent or purchase a warehouse? Or other properties? We here at Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises can assist in such endeavors as well for we also have business relations with...” The arbitrator’s words all blended into a distant murmur within the large room that was his office. The quiet ticking of the chronometer on his desk seemed louder than it should be, and it seemed to overtake the Elezen's monotonous drone, as well as the quiet babble of the nearby stream outside the window. The paladin sat in the middle of the Gridanian office, surrounded by towering bookcases filled with dusty tomes on all sides, wondering how she could hear the seconds tick by over his spoken words. All at once she realized all she was hearing was the percussion within her chest, her own heartbeat. Her eyes would not leave the contract set before her. Why did you leave all this to me? Roen traced the number absently with a finger, her auburn forelocks falling before her eyes. She had finally traveled to the Shroud, to meet with the arbitrators that Nero had arranged the trust with, to settle financial affairs. She had steeled herself against any more surprises, for the initial parcel and the letter… it had nearly destroyed her with grief. But within moments of meeting with the Elezen, it was clear there were only legal documents for her to peruse over. There were no more last sentiments or items to be bequeathed, he only wanted her signature to settle legal details. For that, the paladin was silently relieved. But then the final contract was offered her way, and the wealth that Nero had left behind, it was more than she had ever imagined. She had never really considered the wealth and comfort that Nero enjoyed during his life, numerous legitimate front companies along with his illegitimate ones, as well as his estate in the Mist. This money… it was supposed to be used to build the dreadnought. Her finger came to a pause on the parchment. I remember the look in your eyes, hope hidden behind pragmatism. Determination forged with sheer will and obsession. Such an impossible dream it was. ...Did I want to believe you because I loved you? “So how would you like the funds to be allocated, Miss Deneith?” The Elezen’s question drew the paladin out of her reverie, her head jerking back up. “Ah.” She cleared her throat to loosen the constriction there. “I am going to invest the funds into a company--the Bellworks Foundry in Ishgard. If you could arrange for the transfer of the money to this name and address.” Roen slid a small card across the table toward the Wildwood. Jeulerand lofted both brows with mild curiosity, as he plucked the card from the table and studied the print upon it. “Ishgard,” he drawled. “I suppose with its gates opening, everyone is eager to partake in the opportunities there.” He pocketed the card into his breast pocket. “Very well. I will make the arrangements. I am assuming that this... Eliane Dufresne is aware of the incoming capital?” Roen moistened her lips in thought. When she had proposed the agreement with Lady Dufresne, the paladin had no idea just how much wealth would be hers to invest. She thought it would be a nominal contribution, a moderate one at best. This was significantly more sizable than she had led on. The paladin just nodded. “From our records, it seems that Mister Redgrave had a sizable number of holdings that was liquidated before this trust was established.” Jeulerand grabbed a ledger that was nearby, opening up the thick book in front of him. He retrieved a pair of glasses from his pocket and laid it daintily upon his nose as he began to study one particular page. “He had companies all over Noscea and Thanalan… and some here within the Shroud as well. Surely, if Miss wanted to reinvest in those areas, we can possibly assist you in continuing where he left off?” Roen stiffened in her chair, her jaw set. Ul’dah. That is where the funds should go. To improve the lives of those he worked so hard to change. And yet… “I cannot continue where he left off,” she rasped. “That is not an option for me.” I am sorry. I cannot return to Ul’dah. Not… not yet. The Elezen let out a long exhale, his polite smile dimming just slightly. He closed the ledger and lifted the glasses from its perch upon his nose. “Very well, Miss Deneith. I hope many more opportunities open up to you in Ishgard.” He gingerly set his spectacles back in his pocket. “At least you will no longer have to worry about your livelihood. If anything, Mister Redgrave has made sure that you have enough wealth to be moderately comfortable for the rest of your life.” When she bowed her head in sullen silence, Jeulerand placed one hand on top of the other upon the table. “There has been no correspondence from Mister Redgrave, and given the nature of this trust fund… I am presuming our client’s business with us are at an end.” His voice took on a softer tone, perhaps in civility. “In which case, I will extend my condolences. May I be so bold in asking what your relation was to your benefactor?” Roen’s fingers closed into a fist upon the contract, and she shook her head without meeting the Wildwood’s eyes. “Ah. Forgive my meddling," he apologized with an accompanying nod as she dipped the quill and signed the contract. “I will contact your associate at the Bellworks Foundry and make the needed arrangements.” I know what you would say. The feathers splayed out lifelessly over dark oak, where the paladin set the quill down on the desk. Her hand remained limp over it, unmoving. That this is not enough. ‘You need only advance a single step.’ A deep gravelly voice, one she did not expect to hear, rolled through her thoughts. Roen blinked. The chair scraped over the wooden floor loudly in her sudden rise from the table. Roen slid the contract back toward the Elezen before turning for the door. She paused just before the threshold, glancing over the shoulder without meeting the the arbitrator’s eyes. “You will receive a deposit at the end of each moon. I wish to save it… to reinvest elsewhere in the future.” “Understood, Miss Deneith.” Jeulerand Ganathain gave her a pleased nod and reached for a stack of documents elsewhere on his desk. “I am certain we can continue our business association as Mister Redgrave has trusted us with in the past--” The door closed behind the paladin before the Elezen could finish.

I worry that when I RP with people, that I am expected to bring some plot development to that particular scene. I don't always have the overall arc in mind, nor some significant plot development every scene every step of the way. Sometimes I too enjoy a little slice of life. But I don't do it often enough. And when I really think about it, I do believe that people don't have this expectation of me, it's what I hold for myself. But it does sometimes discourage me from scheduling RP with a few folks, because I don't have that "next idea." I also know people who have their characters thought out every step of the way. I don't... do this. I know who my characters are at their core, but I have not thought out every minute details of their day or their subconsciousness. I admire people who can and has done this, but I rarely know my own self that well, much less my characters. I react on instinct to a situation. But sometimes I feel like that is not in depth enough. I can also be quite insecure about my writing. Less so in posts where I can think about word choices, edit and edit again and mind the flow of the narrative. No, it's the live fly by the seat of your pants RP where I look at some other people's word choices and go... "damn, that was a really good description." Then wonder why I don't think up something that great on the spot. But at the end of the day, I do enjoy RP and crave it when I am away from it for too long. So I try not to overthink things and just try and have fun.

“He is absolutely adorable!” Astidien squeaked as he lofted the puppy into the air. The grey canine’s small tail wagged furiously as he was lifted, embraced, then spun in the Elezen boy’s arms. Roen watched as the young boy set the pup gingerly onto the ground, laughing joyously as both he and the animal then tried to run circles around each other. A noble son he may be, but he is still a child, the paladin reminded herself, coming to a seat on a wooden chair set against an oaken desk in the library. The paladin had brought the pup long to the Theron Manor for her ward’s lessons today. She was reluctant to ask Gibrillont at the Forgotten Knight to keep watch over yet another animal. The Elezen innkeeper did not seem to mind looking after the kitten--a gift from Kage--that was growing more rotund every day. A part of her wondered if leaving it at the inn was a good thing or not, for the feline seemed skilled at catching rodents and charming some patrons for their scrap of food. But when Roen received yet another animal as a gift from Kage, this one a pup with a hat and a cape to boot, she caught the innkeeper rolling his eyes to the ceiling. All she could do was give him a helpless shrug. “Does he have a name?” Astidien plopped onto to the fur rug laid over the marbled floor, gasping for breaths as the puppy pounced onto his lap. “I have not named him yet.” Roen shook her head. “You are welcome to choose a name for him if you like.” The Elezen boy tilted his head thoughtfully at her. “Why not, Miss Deneith? He is your puppy. A Starlight gift you said.” “Aye, from an old friend.” She shrugged. “A good name had not occurred to me, I suppose.” Astidien regarded her a moment longer before he turned back to the pup, who was now staring at him imploringly with his front paws planted firmly against the boy’s chest. “I’ll not name you, little one. That is for Miss Deneith. Perhaps she just has not gotten to know you yet.” As the boy and the pup began to play again, Roen propped one elbow against the armrest of her chair, her hand coming to cradle her chin. Her gaze drifted from the two at play to the desk that was against the far wall, where his books sat neatly piled. Nowhere in sight were the wooden sword and shield nor any other form of practice weaponry. The paladin let out a small sigh, knowing she herself had not expected to actually tutor the Elezen boy in martial arts this sun, even though that was what she was originally hired for by his adopted father, Constantin Theron. But after a few initial sessions, Roen discovered that the young boy was a gentle pacifist at heart. He did not want to disappoint his father’s wishes of some day aspiring to become a Temple Knight, but in truth he lacked any ambition to learn the art of war. His love was with diplomacy, music, alchemy. A thick tome would be his chosen armament. Roen pursed her lips to one side, her eyelids half drooping as she imagined discussing another chapter in politics and philosophy, trying not to let her enthusiasm wane. “She will though, eventually.” Astidien put his nose right up against the puppy’s and murmured quietly. “She’s warming up to us slowly as well.” That made the paladin blink. He only gave her a sheepish sidelong glance and a smile which was answered with a stern look. A perceptive child, she observed. She had not mentioned that she also had a cat that she had not given a name to, despite more than one person inquiring after it. Naming them would be calling them her own, creatures that would then be dependent upon her. She was hardly about the inn, did not consider any place her true home now, and would maybe see the cat at the end of the sun if she returned to the Knight at all. She would be a terrible one to entrust a responsibility of another’s well-being. No, eventually finding a home for these animals would be best, and not giving them a name would spare her the attachment. “I am onto you.” A voice drew both the boy and the paladin’s attention to the entrance to the sunroom, where stood a Hyur girl, one of fourteen winters. Her dark hair was braided to one side, some fringed curls coming loose around her ears. Roen could tell that the hair must have been quickly loosened from whatever fancy arrangement it had been placed in, and had been re-braided hastily, likely by the girl herself. She stood there dressed in tunic and pants, soft leather boots laced up to her knees and her hands bearing a wooden shield and sword. “You are just trying to soften her up so you can talk her out of teaching you swordplay today.” “Why should I need to?” The Elezen boy smiled warmly at the girl. “You will do that for me, sister.” “You are speaking as if I am not here,” Roen chided them both as she rose from her seat. Leila Theron, the only child to Lord Constantin Theron, gave her the biggest smile possible, one that the paladin knew was her best attempt at winning her over. “I thought you had a dance lesson today?” Leila’s bright expression immediately dimmed, twisting into something between an indignant pout and a determined frown. “I’ve no intention of dignifying that farce with my attendance, not when I could be learning a skill of actual use instead. You are the only teacher that is willing to show me how to hold a sword, much less swing one! The dance lessons can wait for when you are not here.” When she came to stand just a few fulms away from the paladin, she set one foot back and brought the wooden shield up in front of her. “I have been practicing what you taught me from the last lesson, and I do not believe I will disappoint..” Roen crossed her arms and looked at her with a skeptical arch of a brow. “And I suppose your dance teacher thinks you are unwell again?” When Leila only gave her a toothy grin in return, the paladin sighed. She wondered how teaching his daughter sword play while allowing his son to study poetry would go over with Lord Theron. She walked around the girl, then tapped her foot to slightly wider stance and adjusted the level of her shield and her sword. “For better leverage and balance.” The Hyur girl beamed at the first set of instructions for the day, then immediately replaced her eagerness with focus. She demonstrated some basic swings and lunges, and Roen could tell that the girl had been practicing since she last saw her. Her hold was more steady, and she was using her body for more momentum. “Good!” The paladin gave her a nod of approval and swung her arms toward the door. “You can start practicing on the target dummy outside. I shall be there in a bit.” At first she flashed the briefest hint of a playful scowl--Leila had tired of the dummy rather quickly and been perhaps too eager to begin proper sparring--which almost immediately broke into a refreshed grin as she ran off to engage her foe. Roen glanced down at the sound of a small whimper, and noticed the grey pup seated by her foot, his tail wagging for some attention. His round black eyes peered up at her and one foot pawed at her boot. Roen let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. “How come you told us we could not even consider a Starlight gift for you?” Astidien clucked his tongue to bring the puppy back to his lap, rewarding him with affectionate scratches on the neck. “You said you did not want such things. And yet someone thought enough of you to send you this delightful creature.” “It is from an old friend, a stubborn one at that.” Roen answered dryly, her expression remaining one of disapproval. “I need no gifts.” The Elezen boy brought the pup to his chest, his arms wrapping around it. Both him and the canine both turned her head to the paladin almost comically. “No one needs gifts, Miss Deneith. They are a sign of endearment. A reminder that someone is thinking of you. It is not a bad thing.” Then his pensive gaze broke as the puppy began to lick the boy’s nose furiously and he fell back into a fit of giggles. The paladin stared at the scene for a moment longer. Memories of last year’s Starlight wafted through her thoughts, as she recalled wrapping many gifts, sending each of them with warm remembrance and a small note that said that she had not forgotten them. She had no such sentiments this year, for she had spent a better half of it trying to forget everyone. As a matter of fact, until she had run into Ser Heuloix and Lady Dufresne in the Forgotten Knight, she had been actively trying to avoid all things Starlight. But it was not to be. The Elezen noblewoman used her charming assertiveness to coax and hire those in the tavern, Khadai and Roen included, for the task of going out into the Brume to handout mugs of warm soup and bread. Roen had acquiesced out of politeness, while she just assumed Khadai would welcome the chance to bring relief to those in need. The paladin frowned, still unhappy with how she had left things with the Au Ra warrior after their last encounter. “I cannot imagine the cultural transition has been easy for him.” Eliane’s words suddenly chimed through her thoughts. Roen let out a long sigh, her shoulders sinking slowly. I suppose I could make amends. That is… if he even took any offense. Who knows with him. She unceremoniously plopped her chin onto her curled hand, blowing away an errant forelock from her eyes. She was not even sure why such thoughts caused the stir of uncertainty within her in the first place. Still… what do I even say now? It was then that a small tap at her boot tip drew her gaze. The grey puppy sat at her feet again, its black eyes peering up at her. Its pink tongue slid back and forth from its mouth with each breath and the paladin could swear the little creature was smiling at her. The paladin let out a small snort, then gave into (what she imagined in her mind) the relentless stare of the canine, picking it up from its perch by her feet and setting it upon the chair next to her. Its tail drummed on the wooden seat furiously, the pup seemed happy just to be remembered. Her hand fell onto the pup’s grey furry brows and gave him a quick scratch, to which it happy rolled over onto its belly. Roen gave the soft belly a gentle rub and when she was rewarded with the happy series of pants, a small lift began sneaking onto the corner of her lips. Hm. Perhaps I have just the thing.

Welcome to Balmung! There are plenty of RP to be seen in the open world, although I think you already came across those. I hope you and your Roegadyn find some fun (and maybe a few brawls) as you explore Eorzea!

Welcome to Balmung and the RPC! I am in agreement with Jancis about getting your feet wet in terms of meeting people while you are fishing around for Linkshells. There are some LSs that are listed for particular interests, and then there are plenty of LSs out there that are not listed too. And while this post really is good enough for a Making Connections post, maaaybe a few readers won't see it in the Welcome section? I know my visits to this folder is sporadic. I am also of the mind to scope out RPers before deciding to make a backstory with them. Or check out some of their posts in the OOC and IC forums or their wikis! It kind of gives you an idea of the player you are meeting. I know when I first joined RPC and Balmung RP, everything seemed daunting and vast. But every single PM I sent for RP was met with a friendly welcome and I met some great people that way. For the most part I've found this community very welcoming, and I think you will find plenty of fun.

I haven't posted IC screenies in awhile! "Do not trust Grimsong. Do not trust Eglantine. Not when it comes to this task. I will send you a child, and he shall lead you." "The idea of changing this world for the better is not foreign to me, Khadai. Do not mistake my indifference, for ignorance." Roen scowled. "I argue... against your pride. Not necessarily your ideals." "Condemn my pride as you wish. Perhaps it is justified. I will decide at a later time if fixing your problems is worth devoting my effort to." "My problems?! Why are you trying to help me?" "You were raised to purge the sickness." "Where then have the sick taken strongest root? I will sever the limb if you desire." "The heretics walk amongst us. Pray to the scaled ones behind closed doors while giving lip service in public to the goddess herself." "I see them. Thinking they are so subtle as they stare while I meditate before her. Their whispers carry further than they know."

I feel like a pretender. Roen shook her head as if to dismiss her own words, looping over and over in her memory. It was what Roen had confessed quietly to Martiallais Heuloix, on the eve of Starlight, as they passed out warm sustenance to the residents in The Brume. A part of her regretted the admission after the fact, for she did not want to explain the meaning the doubt truly held. So she departed hastily soon thereafter, not wanting to confide more in the knight, as she was wont to do whenever they spoke at length. But now the same words echoed in the paladin’s mind as she walked about the city, making inquiries of The Dufresne Bellworks. This was a decision she had come to after her argument with Khadai, although she wondered if she was doing so because of his words. The stubborn (and likely proud) side of her wanted to deny the possibility, that the Au Ra warrior could even have such an effect on her. Perhaps this was just an attempt to close another chapter in her life. Or she was just trying to at least honor the wishes of a man she once loved. Maybe this was a way of atoning for what she did? “The Bellworks Foundry? Aye, we know ‘em. Most o’ their workers be commoners,” one patron said over a mug of ale at the Forgotten Knight. “She’s a workaholic, Miss Ellie. I see the light burning in her office at all hours. I don’t think she ever sleeps!” said a foundry worker returning to the Brume. “Seen people wearing the Dufresne sigil taking folk out of the Brume. Mark my words, they’re all going to the mines.” Not all words were kind. The rumors of the Dufresne Bellworks were bountiful, if one knew who and where to ask. Considered one of the more active foundries in Ishgard and headed by an upstart of a newly minted noble house, the impressions ranged from favorable to downright disdainful. The fact that the opinions seemed to grow more positive the less wealthier the population got, the paladin was inclined to believe the words of those who had the least to gain. So it was with some expectations that Roen walked into the busy and bustling Dufresne Bellworks Foundry. "Miss Ellie?" a Hyur man said loudly over the noise of distant yelling and grinding gears. He grinned at the paladin and lifted a single gloved finger. "Generally safest to look up." Roen’s gaze followed his gesture, and beyond the pipes and metal rafters of the large vaulted roof stood the Elezen noble, prowling the catwalks with one ear to a row of linkpearls. She seemed to be chattering away with one eye on the work below, the white fall of her long skirt brushing up against the railing. Even amidst the smoke and the metal, Eliane Dufresne still looked the perfect part of an elegant noblewoman. The man that Roen had conversed with tapped one of his own linkpearls, murmuring into it. She watched as Eliane paused and glanced down, the Hyur next to the paladin waving up at her. Long auburn locks brushed over the Elezen’s shoulder as she leaned over the railing, but a moment later she gathered her skirts and jogged down the stairs. The paladin found herself tugging on her sleeves, straightening her tunic in anticipation. "Ser Deneith!” Eliane greeted her with a bright smile and a bow. “What a pleasant surprise." Roen cleared her throat as an odd wave of anxiety washed over her. "Lady Dufresne.” The paladin greeted her with a stiff polite bow of her own. “In hindsight, perhaps I should have sent a missive. I did not want to interrupt you if you were busy." "Not at all, dear.” The Elezen shook her head, her relaxed smile lingering. “'Tis the most surefire way to catch me, to be sure, but I do not mind you dropping in, either. Besides, it keeps me from micromanaging." She gave the midlander a grin as he bowed and departed, then cleared her throat. "But, ah, no, I am not busy at present. What brings you here?" "It concerns the matter of the Starlight task." Roen straightened, her mood growing stern. “Khadai will not be calling upon you to collect what he asked for." The noblewoman gave a small pause, her brow creasing with obvious concern. "I do not understand. Has something happened? I wasn't even aware he hadn't yet collected it. I do hate leaving debts unpaid." "Nothing happened. He is fine." The paladin shrugged it off. "Set in his ways, as always. But... he will not be seeking some inflated compensation. I was the one who pushed him into participation in the first place, after all." "I see. Well… so long as that will not be a problem." She bowed her head slightly. "I suppose I ought to apologize as well. I'd hoped he would enjoy himself once he got out there, but I likely came on strong and pushy myself. I'd never want to force anyone into anything, regardless of the intent." "You were nothing of the sort. He is just..." She pressed her lips tightly in thought. "He sees things as if through a different lens. Many times I think it focuses on certain things with painful clarity while completely ignoring the rest. A stern one, he." "For what it is worth, much as he frustrated me, he did not offend. I can imagine the cultural transition has not been terribly easy." Eliane frowned, idly readjusting a silver chain on her belt. "Very well, then. We'll call the debt square, I suppose. But he's welcome to change his mind until the end of the moon, for what it's worth." Roen nodded, her gaze drifting to a distant glow from a nearby forge. Her thumb and finger rubbed together in hesitation. "There is one more thing." "Of course. What might that be?" The paladin shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I have heard from others that your company employs commoners. What I have heard from them has been fair. It... is an admirable thing." She lightly ran her finger along the side seam of her breeches. Why was she hesitant? "I had recently been given some funds. Some minor source of wealth." It was never mine. It was his. “I do not need much to live on,” the paladin continued. "I was wondering if someone like you can help me see that the funds be used for something else. Something that can help others." Her last words were quiet, just barely audible over the noise of the foundry. She remembered when such words came from the heart, fueled with conviction. But now there was only trepidation, reluctance to shed the security of her indifference. I am only doing what he would have wanted. Eliane blinked, but a warm smile was quick to replace her initial surprise. She canted her head to the side with curiosity. "I see. What did you have in mind? Are you seeking to donate it? Invest it? Start a business of your own?" Roen’s eyes widened and she shook her head quickly. "N-Nay. Running a business or some such... is beyond my ken. Besides, my calling has always been on the battlefront, of one sort or another. But... perhaps it can be used to invest in something. To help others in taking the next step." More words that are not mine. She sighed and ran her fingers through her forelocks, tucking them away again. "I do not even know what is possible.” The paladin peered up at the Elezen imploringly. “But managing wealth is not something I am seeking to do." She gave her a helpless shrug. The noblewoman gave a small chuckle to that. "I see. Well, there are two easy paths you could take, depending on whether you want a long-term result, or something more instant. If you wished to donate it directly there are certain individuals who can see to it that it will immediately purchase food and firewood for those of the Brume, perhaps even medicine, depending upon the amount. That way you could make a difference in someone's life as immediately as tomorrow. I would just be certain to avoid official routes, such as the church, because I can promise you not a single coin will reach down below." "Or you could invest it in any number of people or factions,” Eliane continued. “It wouldn't necessarily require you to manage it, but you would likely have to stay in contact with whomever you invest in. In theory, it will keep multiplying should all go well, and any returns you are owed can always be put right back into the organization. Does… that make sense?" Roen nodded. "Giving medicine and firewood would be one good option, but I was hoping for some way to continue to help. Do these other factions also help the commoners as your Bellworks? Employ them or give them a chance to better their lives?" The Elezen gave a quiet sigh, a bit of the poise withering from her posture. "If there are, my dear, they are far quieter about it than we are, and… wisely so, given the present state of things, I would imagine. I'm sure they're out there, but they are certainly rare. We could look into it, though, if you do not mind sitting on your money for a few suns. To be honest, I wouldn't mind finding them myself." Roen furrowed her brow in thought then bobbed her head again. "I can wait." She canted her head, regarding the woman carefully. Other than the fact that she seemed to be dear to Ser Heuloix, the paladin knew very little of this woman. And yet here she was, trusting this noble with the money that Nero had left her. There was something about her, but the paladin could not put her finger on it. "I have kept my head low to the ground where the political affairs of Ishgard is concerned, but… tension seems to be on the rise. I hope all is well with you and yours?" Eliane was quick to sober with that inquiry. "It's… it could be better, in truth. For my part I'm simply trying to lay low because some of my recent actions have turned some friction on my family. More and more I'm finding my hands tied, and..." She shook her head. "Well, it's not forever, I'm sure." "Trouble?" "Politics mostly. The usual Pillars games." The noblewoman gave a bit of a rueful smile. "Which is why I've never been keen on accepting any investors myself. Would that they were all like you, then I wouldn't have to worry about anyone pulling my strings. 'Tis nothing that cannot be solved though, I think, with the right platitudes. That's sadly normal here." Roen blinked. "I was certain you of all people were not in need. I am not a woman of great affluence, this... small bit of wealth found me by chance. And it is something I do not want. Or deserve." She paused, pursing her lips in thought. "If you were to ever consider accepting an investor... I would consider someone like you ideal to entrust the funds.” Those words sounded foreign to her own ears. It had been sometime since she was willing to admit such a sentiment. The Elezen blinked rapidly, slowly straightening again. "Charity is not profitable, my dear, especially when I'm trying to do everything on my own. We're not hurting, mind you -- in fact, we just expanded -- but the truth is we only have so much to spare. I can only hire so many people before I cannot afford it. And then I go out, and others, noble and common alike, sneer and say, 'Why aren't you doing more, then?'" Eliane sighed, smiling at the paladin. "I'd… never considered taking your investment, it's become such a habit to decline them. But, you… you, I know I could trust. If that is what you wish to do, of course. I'm quite through with pressuring people." Roen straightened as well, clasping her hands in front of her. "I would owe you much gratitude if you would be so willing. It would go far to put my mind at ease regarding money I know naught else to do with." "Well, I can most certainly assure you your gil will be well taken care of, and used as wisely as possible.” The Elezen exhaled, looking a bit relieved and curious. “What do you want to do with your interest, however? Are you sure you don't want any of it back? I'd like you to at least get something out of this arrangement. It's only fair." He would have wanted to do something more radical. Something more defining. Her grey eyes met Eliane's and her voice and expression softened. "Someday, I want do something similar, even if it is not possible now, for people… in Ul'dah." Roen dipped her head, a wistful expression passing over her features like a fleeing shadow. "You're a native Ul'dahn?” Eliane arched both brows. “I don't know that I'd ever asked. As it happens, that's where I just opened my new expansion. Any advice for a clueless Ishgardian? I've… heard some things." When Roen answered her with tense silence, the Elezen shrugged with a wince. "Well, I'll tell you what. I know you do not wish to muddle with finances too much. But at the end of each moon, I'll deposit what is owed you to a location of your choice. If you need the money, you can take it. If not, send it back and I'll add it to your existing investment, and the process can repeat itself. Is that simple enough for now?" "That is very simple, and fair.” Roen nodded. “Gratitude, Lady Dufresne. And as for Ul'dah, wealth dictates all there. They will resort to any means to keep their power. It is not what is proper or deemed traditional that prevails, but who is more willing and wanting." "I see.” Eliane’s eyes narrowed. “That is far more aggressive than I am used to, to be sure. But it is good to know the rumors are true. Suppose we'll all have to be on our guard down there, then. Thank you." She canted her head, and her expression lightened. "And… it is my pleasure, truly. I'm simply grateful to have a hand… and one that I know will not put a blade in my back. You have no idea how invaluable that is to me, especially now." Roen found herself no longer fidgeting, no longer minding her sleeves. "Ser Heuloix seems to hold you in high regard in his eyes. Now I see for myself why." She regarded the woman earnestly. "I will make arrangements with those that are holding the funds. Hopefully, you will hear from them once everything is arranged." The noble gave a quiet chuckle, now less so a businesswoman and more so almost a young girl. A faint bit of color crept into her cheeks -- though perhaps it was simply the forge light. "Honestly, I could say the same. Ser Heuloix and I have seen much together and I owe him my life and then some. Any friend of his is naturally a friend of mine.” Eliane paused and regarded Roen warmly, her voice quieting. “But if you can forgive a nosy woman a bit of eavesdropping, I've overheard you while you were speaking with others at Starlight, and… you are a good woman, Ser Deneith, more than you give yourself credit for. You belong here or wherever your heart desires.” She took half a step closed to the paladin. “I hope we can continue to work together like this -- then perhaps it needn't be such an uphill battle." The noblewoman cleared her throat, as if realizing herself, and smoothed her hands over her skirts. "In that case, should I await further word from you?" Roen stiffened. There was a familiar stirring within that suddenly sparked a feeling of dread. A good woman. I am… just pretending, am I not? She moistened her lips and regarded Eliane for a moment, before dipping her head. "Indeed," was all she said. The lady slowly nodded, her business demeanor quick to return. "Very well then, I'll keep an eye out. And if you have any questions or concerns, by all means, do not hesitate to ask." "I have taken much of your time, Lady Dufresne. Gratitude." The paladin’s voice returned to the stoic rhythm, as she gave the Elezen a bow. "It was my pleasure, truly.” Eliane returned an elegant bow, her expression regaining some warmth. “Have a pleasant eve then, ser, and may the Fury watch your back." Roen strode briskly out of the foundry without another word.

Roen: A runaway from home finds being an idealist is hard. Brynnalia: She too fine and carefree to settle down. Except she kind of wants to. Raelisanne: Woman with daddy issues takes it out on everyone else in the name of science.

The well-paved streets of the Pillars echoed Roen’s brisk footsteps as the paladin descended the avenue from the higher wealthy district towards Foundation. She minded not the drifting snowfall from above; her brows were bent, and her expression dark as the skies. What does he know? Roen fumed as she recalled the words she and Khadai had exchanged, her arms swinging quickly by her side. She was not even sure what she had expected. Had they not begun their first encounter in a standoff? So why did his adamant views suddenly vex her? His stubbornness was as it had ever been, as was his brusque nature. “You are a people of paradoxes. You see fit to ignore those people, to simply bury them beneath excuses. 'We do not have arms.' 'We do not have resources.' Yet for that one occasion, all focus was on bringing them a single day of relief. I would ask why you believe such a thing is acceptable." Khadai’s solution was simple, his ideas unbending. His belief of how a society should behave was so even-handed and efficient, it was almost laughable that he expected such a thing to exist outside of his own idyllic tribe. And yet, despite his idealistic views, he could not understand the purpose behind a sentimental gesture of giving comfort to those suffering even for one night. In his eyes it was futile; pointless, and perfunctory at best. So was it his impossible utopian ideas that she was arguing against? Or his objection to charity? What made her dig in her heels and continue to argue against his views? When she had tracked him down earlier, all she wanted was for him to reconsider in asking Eliane Dufresne the inflated fee he had demanded after passing out the food and drinks on the Elezen’s behalf in the Brume a few nights past. He asked for five times her promised payment after he completed the task, which found Eliane nearly speechless, initially, but the noblewoman gracefully agreed to it without protest. "I believed the endeavour to be a waste of time. Thus I asked that compensation be raised in acknowledgement of that." Khadai explained when Roen asked him for his reasons. "That is your way here, is it not?" Why did she think he would support such a cause? Perhaps she thought that his belief that every member in the society should share equally in both prosperity and poverty translated to altruistic gestures as well. "What did that event accomplish?” Khadai exhaled. “It brought comfort to individuals for a day. Where are those individuals now?" Roen scowled. "Same place. But a little less hungry. And perhaps a little less cold for a night." "Same place," the Au Ra had echoed in a tone that could perhaps be called pitiable. He withdrew the slightly crumpled envelope from a pouch on his belt, the paper still sealed with the faded wax sigil of a bell. In one smooth motion, he tore the payment voucher into two pieces and flicked it idly with a finger, where the wind carried the fragments skipping down the cobbled streets. "Your efforts took them to the same place." The stones beneath her boots turned more rough with loose gravel, the maintenance of the streets leading to the Brume not as immaculately maintained as those in the Pillars. Does he think such problems are so easily solved? She had contended that the solutions were not easy, and that others were making the effort for change, it was just slow in coming and fraught with conflicts and obstacles. But she knew deep down that things may never change, and she herself had not pushed for any either. The paladin had purposefully turned away from seeking out such causes because of her utter failure in Ul’dah. Was that why she had grown angry at the Xaela? Because in his own way, he was questioning her inaction? "Though it is not my place, I can speculate how we would solve your problems." Khadai’s tone had hardly wavered during their entire discussion; it was matter-of-fact, without boast. “Your Brume residents would be appraised for their role. Once organised, their equipment would be provided for by artisans. They would be fed by the hunters. The sick would be cared for. They would be guarded by Khadai. All will forfeit something for the greater whole, for it is a great society that gives way to great individuals." It was so fair, systematic, and equal. Optimistic. Roen had heard similar plans like that before, reading over an outline for implementing changes in Ul’dah. She could still remember his small careful notes on the side on each page. And with that a shadow of his hopeful smile, his confident smirk, and his determined gaze flitted through her thoughts. A familiar pang returned to her chest. "And if there is not enough for all?" The Au Ra had snorted. "There is enough here, for all. This is not Othard. To say otherwise is a simple denial. Those who have many forfeit what they possess to build a sustainable system for those who are lacking. A temporary cessation gives way to permanent solution." "And if they refuse?" “They would not refuse if they possessed sense." His observation was dry. Khadai still had no understanding of people’s wont to put their own survival over the rest. The paladin too once thought that the world could be ruled by fairness, as he did. She once believed that justice would always prevail. That people would understand and support the efforts to aid those around them, even if it may be at a cost to themselves. She was wrong, and it was pointless to try and change that. "The four Houses that rule Ishgard prefer to give on their own terms. They will not want to give up their comforts.” Roen frowned at him exasperatedly. "You underestimate people's want for power, but moreover, their fear of losing control. Of their security, of their way of life." “And that is the difference between your peoples and mine." He jabbed a thumb at the house behind him. "This dwelling houses less than eight people. How many do you believe could utilize it for shelter?" Roen stared at the random building. Its windows were frosted with heat from within and smoke wafted from its chimney top. She was certain the residents inside were well protected from the cold. “I do not understand it either," she murmured. "Yet you defend it all the same." Roen scowled instantly. "I do not defend those who hoard wealth for their own comfort!" Then what was she doing? Khadai regarded her oddly. "I do not wish to imagine how confused you must be,” he had said quietly. Her steps came to a stop; the paladin was standing still in the middle of the street in the Brume, staring down an alleyway in front her. She could see shivering figures crowded around a lit brazier, and a few more trembling bodies curled into a ball further down the unlit path. She had given up on hopes for change. "I only wished for you to see that a little bit of charity for one night was not completely worthless. That is all." Her words had become terse toward the end of the conversation, her argument sounding hollow to her own ears. "I cannot fix this place.” "And as long as you believe that, your 'little bits of charity' will continue to be worthless," the Au Ra returned. Her fingers curled into a tight fist by her side, her head bent low as a cold gust blew through the Brume, tossing her hair before her eyes. He was right. And she hated it. “Well noted.” Roen had stared at him coolly. "I will leave you to your guard duty. You can pontificate your views on the rest of the world and its faults just long enough before you make your way back home." She had walked away from him angry. But as she now stood amidst the rubble of the Brume, the paladin knew she had only lashed out at the Xaela because of her own shame. ‘May you forever have the strength to defend what you believe.’ The distant mutterings of those gathered by the fire filtered through her senses as another gale shook the shudders of a few ruined buildings around her. She could see a woman waving her young child back indoors, and a glimpse of blonde braids made the paladin catch her breath. It was a young girl, but her height, her gaunt frame, it reminded her of another child she had left behind in Ul’dah. Sayer would be about her age now… She lightly tugged at the silver chain around her neck, rolling the two amethyst pendants that hung from it between her fingers. The paladin then spun back around, gravel grinding and stone clacking beneath her boots as she marched out of the Brume, intent on the nearest mail moogle.

My advice would be to choose the race that fits what character concept excites you the most. Do you want to play a nobility with a deep rooted history in Ishgard? Then Elezen would be the way to go. Do you want to play a character with more of a foreigner background? Just how he gets or already got integrated into the Ishgard is entirely up to you. Either race can be entrenched in Ishgard the culture, just in a very different way. I don't think you will miss out on any particular RP groups unless it is inherently tribal or nobility kind of RP.

“Praise be to Saint Reinette.” The old woman dipped her head low, unwashed ashen locks falling over her weathered visage. Within her pressed palms rattled a wooden rosary, and she rocked back and forth upon her knees, offering her prayers there on the frozen streets of the Brume. Another pair of hands, sheltered in soft woolen gloves, wrapped around the woman’s fingers tightly. An Elezen male with long flaxen hair dressed in a thick well tailored winter coat lowered himself in front of the woman. The noble frowned at the trembling he felt in those aged, bony appendages. Ishgard’s climate was never known to be kind, and winter’s bitter touch was all the more punishing to Ishgard's unprotected poorer residents. “Keep faith in these trying times, Miss Sadler.” Launce Jeaumis released his hold and began to tug the knitted gloves off his hands. “And I hope these will keep you a bit warmer,” he added softly, offering them to the older female. Janne Sadler looked up at the younger Elezen, her opaque eyes widening. He knew that her sixtieth naming day was a sennight past, but her vision had been failing for many moons. She smiled at him regardless. “Lord Jeaumis, you are too kind!” Launce beamed, reaching behind him into the box he had hauled along with him. His retainer made a move to assist him but the noble waved him off as he pulled out a rolled blanket and a bag of dried meat and bread. “These are for you and Miss Grieves. I have not seen her in sometime now.” The old woman shook her head, the age lines on her face suddenly deepening with grief. “I’m afraid that Lysa is no longer with us.” Her trembling hands clutched tighter around the woolen gloves. The woman’s frail frame bent further as he draped the blanket over her gaunt shoulders. “She was cut down by an outsider. Only one returned barely alive to tell the tale!” the woman hissed under her breath. Stunned silence was the only response Launce could give for long moments. Finally he stammered, “Cut… cut down? Miss Grieves? But how…?” “The foreigners. Since the Gates have opened, they have done nothing but take from us. First our livelihoods, and now our lives.” Janne Sadler spat three times upon the stones before she brought the rosary to press to her chest. The Elezen sighed, his expression flitting between disbelief and disquiet. “Surely, if the Holy See has seen it fit to open the Gates, it is with Halone’s blessing--” “It is but another test laid down before us by the Fury,” a placid voice interrupted the noble, drawing both his gaze and Janne Sadler's to the figure standing behind him. A woman dressed in a thick black coat stood there patiently, her gloved hands clasped neatly in front of her. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of wide-rimmed glasses, and her jet black hair fell neatly around her pale porcelain complexion. When she spoke, her quiet voice was certain, and clear enough to cut through the whistle of the wind. “Embrace your trials,” she said serenely to the older woman, who was still kneeling on the ground. Janne Sadler murmured another prayer under her breath before she gathered the bag of food laid before her. “Ah, Miss Reeves.” Launce grunted as he pushed himself up, dusting off the dirt and snow from his coat. “I had not expected you to join me today.” He rubbed his hands together to warm them, the winter chill already seeping into his fingertips. The bespectacled woman just stared at him blankly, her expression ever absent of emotion. It was something the Elezen had come to expect from her by now. When she did finally speak again, her voice seemed lower. “I have come to retrieve you, Lord Jeaumis. It is regarding some matters of import.” The Elezen noble sighed with disappointment. Launce had come to know that tone quickly enough. “Can it not wait? I had wished to deliver a few more giftings this eve. I fear there will be a deathly chill come nightfall. Given that it’s the season of Starlight, the residents here could use a bit of good cheer...and some protection against the cold.” He gestured to the box that was still half full with supplies. Josette Reeves stood still as a statue, not even a stray strand of hair out of place. “The work of the faithful is never done,” she said pointedly, her gaze unwavering. Launce noted absently that she seemed to be looking right through him rather than at him, as if it wasn’t what was on the surface that ever interested her. He was told by some others that her stare unsettled many, but Launce had dismissed it with ease. She too was one of the devout, after all. “Ah, forgive me.” The noble let out a soft chuckle. “Of course.” He wrapped his scarf around the neck once more over to keep the cold from permeating into his chest. Launce had to remind himself that his title of “lord” was something of a formality observed by the woman, but she never seemed to truly acquiesce to his authority. The Elezen rarely had to mention his family's distant relations with House Durendaire and the old blood that ran in their veins, for the hierarchy within the social caste was not something that was ever forgotten amongst the Ishgardian nobilities. This Midlander woman seemed to be well familiar with it--and she showed outward respect for it, of course--but he truly doubted if she held any earnest deference. Launce gestured for his retainer to finish handing out the blankets and the food, while he began to walk toward the lower entrance to the Forgotten Knight. “Is this about the new recruits? I heard from Inquisitor Bellamont that a few from the last batch seemed quite eager to be redeemed.” The woman fell in step next to him, her violet gaze looking straight ahead. “Our numbers have swelled. Many seem eager to answer the Fury’s call.” “Wonderful!” Launce clasped his hands in front of him. “I should send the Inquisitor tidings for all that he does.” He paused, regarding the woman. “Is it about your work then? Is all going well on that front?” Even though the noble had lowered his voice before inquiring, the sharp look that was shot in his direction from the corner of the woman's eyes nearly made him cringe. He recalled he had been chided more than once for his enthusiasm in mentioning her work, even in the most vaguest sense possible. He knew she rarely expressed herself in public and held her work and her privacy closely guarded to her breast. She even changed the color of her hair two moons past after hearing a rumor that someone recognized her as she accompanied him in the Brume. She has rarely accompanied him on his charity visits since. “You know I believe in your work, Miss Reeves," the noble assured her warmly. "More than anyone! If I did not, I would not have brought you to Lord Garamond in the first place.” Launce held up his hands in front of him as if in a peace offering, broadening his smile. Her cool facade did not thaw. "You will always have my gratitude for your generosity and your faith in my work, Lord Jeaumis." Her words, while polite, held no warmth. "But the matters I bring to you is not of my research. They are regarding one of our knights. He has passed and now walks within the Fury's Halls, but has bequeathed his mantle to another before his death." "Oh?" The Elezen arched a brow as he paused, coming to stand under a scaffolding. "Anyone we know?" He made no show of flinching at the news of another death. "This one is another new devout," the woman recited monotonously. "The supplicant hails from Thanalan, but has shed his name in favor of the title of his predecessor. He believes he can serve as a champion to Halone's cause to atone for his sins." Launce's smile widened, a new light in his blue eyes. "Well then, our numbers are strong indeed. I will arrange a meeting, to see if this new champion is indeed worthy." He rubbed his hands again, blowing on them to warm them. "Many believe since the Gates have been opened, the outsiders have only brought more woes. But I think it can be a boon to us if we know where to look." The woman before him seemed indifferent to the idea. "It has forced Ishgard to adapt. That is not a bad thing." The Elezen laughed with delight. "That is an optimistic view, Miss Reeves! Something I had not expected from you! Indeed, perhaps change is what is needed. After all, even those that have given in to temptation can be given a chance at redemption, yes?" "For those worthy of atonement," the woman replied dryly. "And may wrath and vengeance befall upon the rest," Launce added cheerfully. He tucked his hands into the opposite sleeves of his coat in an attempt to ward off the chill. "Where there is fear, we carry light, Miss Reeves." He gave her a polite bow. "Walk not in darkness, Lord Jeaumis." She returned the gesture with a sharp one of her own, almost militaristic in its succinctness. The noble watched as she turned and disappeared down the darkened streets of the Brume, before he opened the door to the Forgotten Knight, his expression beaming at the warm air that greeted him.

Oh me! Me! -jumps up and down- Pick me!

I wanted to play a total scrapper, a short tempered fly-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of a girl. Stubborn, willful, gets into a lot of fights, mouthy and confident because she believes she is better and more suave than she actually is, with a chip on her shoulder because of parental issues. I actually wrote an alternate "What If" post about her, as a possible future daughter to my current character. She was also my latest tabletop character concept, but that group fell apart due to RL reasons before the story got off the ground. In that version, she was also heavily into steam punk, got all sorts of gadgets and such. So yeah, I've always wanted to write/RP someone like that but never had a chance to due to one thing or another.

“You should be able to swing your sword again in a few suns.” Roen withdrew her hand from the torn armored sleeve, her eyes squinting to study the wound that was still visible beneath the knight's shredded chain links. The broken bone had been mended and now a jagged pink scar remained where once there was a mess of torn flesh and muscle. The tingling at her fingertips faded as the call of aether ended, but the paladin was satisfied that her limited conjury was enough to aid the knight. “My thanks to you.” Ser Marshall dipped his head in gratitude, before slowly testing the movement of his arm and fingers. The Midlander glanced to the others that were injured, those that were now being tended to by robed Ishgardians near the tents and wagons of the Convictory. “I think the rest of us are being well cared for now by our chirurgeons. Why don’t you take part in the festivities?” She glanced over her shoulder to the center of the encampment, where they had built a bigger bonfire with the broken wooden stakes. Many soldiers--knights and sellswords alike--stood around the roaring fire with a bowl or a steel cup in hand. The tension of the conflict had dissipated, and there was an ease of camaraderie that filled the air as they exchanged drinks, toasts, and tales of the battle that they had just won. She frowned, her gaze flitted from one face to the other; she could see the awe in the younger faces, for this had been their first contest against a true dragon. And in the eyes of the more aged soldiers, she could see the relief--the weary cheer at their fortune, glad to be simply alive. None seemed to hold any true arrogance nor any outward display of superiority against the enemies they had just faced, at least… none except for Ser Vaillancourt. The dragoon’s mannerisms were nonchalant, that she could nearly mistake it for conceit. Or was it just unwavering confidence? Surely the dragoon had faced other dragons in his lifetime, and the fact that he was standing here at all was testimony in itself of his successful career thus far. Having witnessed his most impressive display with her own eyes, she could not deny his extraordinary skill. Even as she watched him smile and laugh with the other knights, a part of her wondered what strength of character it would take to face that kind of a foe sun in and sun out. Was it not what all dragoons were trained for after all? What they have dedicated their lives to? It was clear the respect the rest of the Convictory knights had for Ser Vaillancourt; it was as if they all took comfort in the Elezen’s fearlessness. And after the defeat of the dragon, that hint of perpetual weight and tension that always seemed to pervade the Ishgardian soldiery seemed to lift, at least for a passing bell or two, while they celebrated their triumph. Steel cups clanged against each other and laughter rang through the air. Roen wanted no part of it. “Are you certain the chirurgeons do not need my assistance?” The paladin turned her back to the rest of the camp, her gaze seeking out other injured soldiers. “I am trained in conjury, albeit limited but--” “Nay, not necessary, Ser Deneith.” Ser Marshall stood from his seat, holding his arm protectively to his chest. He tilted his head towards her, giving her a quiet smile. “I am thankful for a paladin’s assistance. But our healers have things well in hand. And forgive me for saying so, but many of our soldiers prefer a familiar physician’s hand to that of a sellsword. No matter how gifted an outsider may be.” He seemed earnestly apologetic. Roen shook her head. “No need for apologies,” she muttered distractedly. Ser Marshall paused with a small furrow to his brow. But he just bowed and turned to make his way to the tents, seeing to the rest of the men. The paladin gave his retreating back an idle glance. She knew her words sounded more terse than she had intended, even though she took no umbrage at his sentiment. She glanced instead back to the celebration at hand, crossing her arms. The wood creaked in protest as she leaned her back against the wagon, electing to stay on the outskirts of the milling crowd. She was no longer able to ignore the aching in her arms; the toll of the battle fought and the channeling of the aether had left her more weary than she was willing to acknowledge until now. Roen let out a tired sigh, scanning the crowd. She had lost track of Khadai while she had been attending to the hurt soldiers. When she saw the dragoon congratulate the warrior, the paladin fell back from him, seeking out the wounded instead. She was not sure why she had done so, for when the dragon fell she too felt the exhilaration of the hunt and the swell of joy in the victory. The elated cries echoing throughout the canyon had brought about an exhalation of relief. But when she looked for the Xaela, he was already set upon by Ser Vaillancourt, and had attracted the attention of a few other knights--this time with looks of approval. On their return back to the camp, she did her best to stay towards the back with the wounded, rather than joining in with the ranks of the more lively men, their spirits lifted. And at least a couple of them had felt at ease enough to walk next to the Au Ra warrior who had fought alongside them. Roen was content to let Khadai be. Was that why she was staying away from the throng of soldiers near the bonfire now? The paladin could not say. She thought she could glimpse the tall frame of the Au Ra across the camp, although through the fire and the smoke, she could not make him out clearly. Perhaps Ser Vaillancourt was right, she thought. Camaraderie breeds familiarity. Roen slid down to a seat on the wooden steps that lead up to the door of the wagon, setting her shield next to her. From the corner of her eyes, the paladin spotted Bellows and Stray Oak seated closer to the fire, drinking from their own cups. Bellows had his arms bandaged and he seemed to be casually conversing with the other men he had arrived with. Roen did not recognize any of the others, even though she had fought with the men under Ser Tournes for many moons. It was then that she realized that she knew little to nothing of them, nor they of her. Roen took out a piece of cloth and began to clean her hands, stained with blood during the tending of Ser Marshall’s wounds. Even as the sounds of laughter drifted from those gathered by the fire, the paladin remained where she sat, continuing to wipe dried blood from her hands. I did not come here seeking kinship. The paladin was quick to reminded herself. That is not why I am here. She glanced once more across the camp, her eyes squinting as she tried to make out the Xaela’s form through the smoke. But all she saw was merriment abound amongst the faces of men, which only deepened her frown even more. Roen tore her gaze away, her fingers tightening their grip around the cloth pressed against her stained palm. Khadai is the one that needs the familiarity. She shoved the cloth into her belt pouch as she chided herself. Not I. The paladin let out a long sigh as she slid the gauntlet back onto her naked hand. She arched her neck, her head coming to rest against the wooden door of the wagon. But before she knew it, Roen found her gaze drifting once more toward the fire and the soldiers gathered there, even though she did not know why.

I am going to third the approach of finding like minded people here on the RPC and sending them a PM. It is how I have made many of the RP friends that I have now. My experience has been mostly positive so far! As for walk ups, the results are very variable from one person to another and also from one occasion to another. The prospect of something spontaneous giving rise to something enjoyable is always exciting! But like going to a bar to meet that special person, most of the times you will be disappointed. But it might happen someday. My experience from hanging out in the Quicksand has been mostly positive. I got to meet Natalie, Aya, eventually Kage. It was totally random and based on luck. I also met plenty of people that I don't ever run into anymore. >_> Meeting at large events? Also very luck based. But Roen met one of her closest friends through the early days at the Grindstone. So I can't say don't do random walk ups, but know that the yield can be low and the experience can be frustrating at times. I would say just walk it off and keep trying, and be ready to be really patient, if you want to keep chasing that spontaneity (which I totally get!). If you want to increase the chance that you will find someone steady to RP with or weave a story together, another way to approach it is to do some research, read profiles, wikis, story posts, OOC posts, then poke that person in some form or another (/tell or PM or what have you) and see where things go.

I heard about you even before this post. Welcome to Balmung! I hope you enjoy your stay!

“For Ishgard!” the knights cried out in unison as they charged. Roen tightened her grip around her sword, quickly taking count of the Dravanians that were emerging from the rocks around them. The snow had begun to fall again, shadowing the skies in white. It was starting to obscure their vision into the distance, and she suspected it had aided these creatures in coming upon the soldiers with little warning. The paladin counted half a dozen aevis, four biasts, and one fearsome looking diresaur that loomed over the rest. They had appeared suddenly and quietly. We were indeed expected, she thought. It would be a grave mistake to underestimate our foe. “That corpse of the aevis will bring another, or more,” Roen said to Khadai, as she flexed her fingers around the grip of her sword. Her breathing became steady and she felt the telltale sign of aether collecting around her form--the goosebumps that quickly ran along her skin. It was but a brief thing and without fanfare, but a wave of energy washed over her form, and a shadow that resembled a layer of stone passed over her complexion. The visual manifestation faded as soon as it appeared. “The Dravanians come to retrieve their dead, always the greater coming for the lesser.” The paladin flicked a glance to the Au Ra, then the corpse that was laid out. “Sooner or later.” She glanced up at the sky, where there still was no sign of the dragon and the dragoon that had shot through the air after it. Would it attract the dragon itself or its minions? The paladin shook her head, she had no time to consider the options, for another cry split the air as she saw one knight sent flying into another, hit by the massive scaled arm of the towering diresaur. “We take down the big one first.” Roen raised her shield and dug her back heel into the ground. She spared Khadai a brief glance, and finding a grin there, her own eyes squinted at the edges. She charged into the fray. The diresaur already had a lance protruding out from its flank, yet it still tramped through two more soldiers, the latter leaping out of the way to avoid getting crushed. The beast's dark eyes--sunken things set deep into its spiked head--fixated upon another knight. Roen followed its gaze to Ser Couillard in the distance who was fending off a biast. The diresaur bent one leg, lowering itself to the ground for a charge. But just before it took to a charge, the paladin came to a skidding stop between it and the Elezen, her shield raised. Roen braced herself for what was to come, but she knew that on her own, the large Dravanian’s strength would easily shatter her arm with the impact. She released another quick exhale, and more goosebumps raced down from her shoulder to her hand. Another wave of aether coalesced in an instant, and this time a glimmer appeared in the center of her shield. The manifestation bought her only a few seconds. There was recognition in the diresaur’s eyes, and it bared its sharpened teeth, getting out an ominous growl. Its stone etched snarl seemed confident that her magick would not matter. Then the Dravanian pushed off from the ground and launched itself at the paladin. A thunderous crash reverberated, and a thick mist of snow scattered into the air at the force of the collision. The frozen earth cracked beneath her feet; jagged fissures splitting the ground as they grew in all directions from where the two forces met. But when the fog of snow settled, the paladin remained standing. The thick horn that protruded from the diresaur's head remained but ilms away from her face, the diresaur's breaths blowing away her forelocks with angry indignation. But between them stood her shield, still shimmering with aether. Roen’s arm shook still with the lingering force of the impact. Her narrowed eyes rose grimly to meet that of the looming Dravanian. But beyond its spiked silhouette she spotted another--a limber form she had come to recognize well enough. Khadai was running up behind the diresaur, his loping gait lengthening with each stride. The Xaela's blue steel greatsword was held at a slant to the side of him, but he gripped it by the hilt in both hands. The Au Ra took to the air in a long high leap, and he swung the sword high above him. With the force of his descent, the warrior drove his sharp blade into the backside of the Dravanian's neck, dragging it through its thick hide. The diresaur reeled back and the air shook with its anguished roar. Khadai leaped back immediately, out of reach from its flailing claws, as dark blood splattered the snow beneath its feet. The massive creature spun around at the offender who had inflicted the injury, and that was when Roen caught a glimpse of where the Xaela had struck. From behind, the layer of stony scales parted to expose a small seam of vulnerability, where only thick leathery hide protected the creature. And more it bent forward, more scales parted. The Dravanian swiped at the Xaela with its elongated claws, but it only managed to clip a part of the warrior's long ponytail as Khadai ducked, then rolled away from another pair of claws that plunged into the ground. Metallic clangs of stone against steel rang through the air, as the blue steel flashed through the snowfall in quick arcs to parry more swipes that sought to sever his head from his neck. Three more slashes of the longsword found their mark between scales, and the diresaur roared again--in fear as much in pain. It fell forward, one of its claws crashing upon the ground as it shuddered. But its spiked tail rose and whipped toward the paladin. It smashed against the shield again, and still with the flash of aether, the paladin held her ground. But the magical energy flickered and faded after that block. Roen narrowed her eyes. She and the diresaur knew what she had cast earlier remained no longer. Her eyes widened for a moment then she ducked into a ball behind her shield as a gout of fire spewed forth from the Dravanian. Searing heat washed over her shield, and she could feel it starting to seep into her skin. Roen saw the layer of stoneskin flicker and fade, after lending what protection it could against the long stream of fire. The paladin gritted her teeth as she braced for another hit; the fire had trapped her behind the shield, the diresaur was bound to take advantage. An odd sputtering growl greeted her instead. Then nothing. The paladin lowered her shield just as the diresaur’s head hit the ground only a few fulms from her. Its eyes were rolled back and blood streamed down its head from multiple wounds it suffered. Khadai stood just behind it and yanked his greatsword out of the back of the beast's neck. The blue steel of his sword and his armor was splattered with Dravanian blood. Ser Couillard stood on the other side of the fallen creature, he too shaking his sword of the thing’s blood. The diresaur shook one more time, a low rumble drowning deep in its throat, then went limp. The Elezen gave the paladin and the warrior a nod then glanced back to the battle at hand. “You two deal with the aevis, I will organize the men against the biasts.” “Men! To me!” Ser Coulliard called out to the knights, running toward a group of biasts. It was then that the lesser Dravanians seemed to finally note the fallen diresaur, and all let out an angry howl. Their eyes seemed to fixate on the two that stood by their fallen kin, the eyes of the aevis glowing bloodthirsty red. They stalked toward the Au Ra and the paladin, winged talons and clawed feet crunching the ice as they began to encircle the two. Roen and Khadai stood back to back, both of them warily eyeing the circling beasts. The paladin raised her shield, shaking off the growing ache in her arm. Khadai raised his greatsword, holding the hilt held at eye level, ready for the host to strike. And strike they did.

Roen glanced from Khadai to Ser Tabourot, giving the Elezen a quick nod. She looked to her own armor, checking to make certain her equipment was still mostly intact, slinging her shield back over her shoulder. She could not help but turn her attention back to where she had seen the knights being attacked by the dragon. She felt a tightening of her chest at the thought that the men were being picked off, stranded out in the open. “I think it is a good possibility,” she answered grimly without looking at the Au Ra warrior. She had never faced them before herself, but the cunning acumen of the dragons--on top of their innate their viciousness--were well recorded in many Ishgardian books of lore. She glanced up towards the sky where the dragonflies had vanished to. “For all we know, the dragon can send his minions back into the encampment when the troops leave.” She sighed, her shoulders sinking. “But a ploy or not, we cannot abandon the other knights to the dragon's mercy.” When the paladin spared Khadai a glance, it was with a stern visage that held a warning. “It is wise to assume that the dragon knows this as well. We will be expected.” When he answered her with a silent but undaunted look, she paused, her eyes giving him a once over for injuries. She was still not fully convinced that he belonged in this dragon fight at all, but she did not voice any further objections. It gave her a measure of comfort to know she could rely on him in battle. When she was satisfied that the Xaela bore no wounds, she scanned the rest of the encampment, spotting Bellows along with a few other injured men being ushered toward the back of the camp with the chirurgeons to the shelter of the wooden huts. Roen turned and walked with Khadai to join the rest of the troops that were getting ready to be deployed, with a few knights gathered around a pile of lumber and briars. Having never seen a true dragon trap before, her attention was drawn to the contraption while Ser Tabourot barked a few more orders around the camp to bring its pieces together. Some sort of a snare, Roen thought to herself, her eyes following the various pieces of the frame and the cables that were wrapped around it. She tucked away a small curl to her lips as anticipation fought against caution and formed goosebumps along her skin. She could still recall the deep red gleam in the dragon’s eyes when it had landed, its giant frame almost freezing her in place in awe. She could not say whether it was fear or admiration that caught her breath. “Perhaps this snare will aid us in bringing that thing down,” Roen said quietly to Khadai even as she continued to study its skeleton. “Along with… Ser Vallaincourt’s skills as a dragoon.” She flicked the Au Ra a glance, one that gleamed with guarded excitement. “I have seen the dragoons in battle against the beastkin and scalekin, but never against a true dragon. Their proclaimed skills against their sworn foe is reportedly quite impressive.” The paladin glanced past the Au Ra to the firepit that still blazed bright blue, with azure hued smoke still billowing into the air. Signal fire had been lit when the dragon attack began, she could only hope that it was seen by the those it was meant for. Khadai looked as if he was about to say something when Ser Tabourot walked to the front of the soldiers gathered. His imposing Elezen frame was pulled taut, his expression one of cool determination. His voice cut clearly through the thick tension in the air. “We are moving out!”

It felt like a hail of hooks, spears, and daggers. But all with teeth. The swarm of dragonflies scratched at her shield, as if wanting to claw right through it. Roen held it steady against the incoming horde, her sword held firmly at ready. Others standing by her side formed a phalanx of a shield wall, deflecting much of the initial attack. She heard a barrage of arrows being released from behind her, and numerous dragonflies fell in the distance even before reaching them. And yet more came. The paladin slashed at the winged creatures that bounced off her shield, a few sent spinning through the air in a daze. She cut one in half, clear through its scales, just as she spotted another trying to push through the gaps in the armament wall. Turning her sword in her grasp, she speared it down into the ground, its body spewing out a green sticky fluid onto her boots. She slammed more away with her shield while her sword swung at a few more. Then from the corner of her eyes she spotted another dragonfly making a beeline straight for her temple. A blur of blue flashed at her side, and the dragonfly was gashed midair, its head severed from its body, the blow sending the creature spinning to the ground. Roen raised her shield arm again and flicked a glance over her shoulder to spot Khadai. The warrior had already turned from her with his blue steel greatsword, searching for another target. And so did she, for the horde of winged vermin did not allow any moment of reprieve. A cry to her left drew her attention, and the paladin spotted the familiar form of Bellows, crouched on the ground away from the gathered soldiers. By his side lay a wounded dragonfly, twitching in the snow. Thick viscous fluid was running down in rivulets from its cut midsection over a patch of darker blood stained snow. The Midlander sellsword was clutching his arm, his sword dropped to the ground. His right chainmail sleeve showed a large tear, and blood was freely flowing from the wound. He was frantically trying to pull free from his belt a shortsword that hung there, but his grip was made slick with blood and his fingers faltered. He did not notice another wave of dragon minions swooping down on him. The sellsword did finally glance up when three more dragonflies thudded--legs flailing, skittering--against Roen’s shield as she came to stand over him. The paladin barely spared him a glance as she slashed to keep the vermins at bay. “Stay behind me,” Roen said firmly, her eyes scanning the skies as she began to sidestep towards the aegis afforded by the troops. Bellows looked as if he was going to protest, but scowled instead when she shot him a sharp look. With a grumble he snatched up his dropped sword and scampered back to the line of troops. The paladin narrowed her eyes, realizing the Midlander had left her back uncovered. She ducked to dodge another diving dragonfly, then batted away a second with her shield. She spotted another half a dozen of the scalekin diving in her direction, but from behind her more arrows whistled through the air, and the dark serpentine silhouettes were shot down from the sky. As the ground around them became more littered with severed scaled limbs and bodies, Roen stole a glance into the sky. She caught a glimpse amongst the clouds--the fleeting grey shadow of the dragon--and her lips parted as she recognized its course. It was swooping down for an attack. Another horn echoed from the troops far in the distance, those caught out in the open. They had gathered themselves into some kind of a defensive formation, though Roen could only barely make out their shapes. But dragonfire was unmistakable even from this distance. She could see the bright orange fountain of fire engulfing the ground where she had last seen the knights. Thick clouds of steam from the melting snow rose to obscure the rest. Another flash of blue drew the paladin’s attention as two more dragonflies dropped to the ground near her. She had kept her attention on the dragon’s attack for a second too long. Roen glanced up at Khadai as he stood by her, his longsword dripping green with the blood of the scalekin. Roen gave him a single nod before she spun to his back and battered another diving dragonfly targeting his shoulder and hacking in half another. But as her eyes scanned the surroundings, it was obvious the swarm had been thinned considerably. Archers were taking careful aim at straggling figures in the sky and the formation had loosened to deal with the throng of insects that had become more chaotic as they hummed and buzzed about the encampment. Ser Tabourot still stood at the head of the troops, his armor also stained but not with his own blood. He too was surveying the camp and the assault beyond. Roen exhaled sharply, flicking a glance to the Xaela warrior next to her. Her brow was furrowed with intent. “The dragon still attacks the troops caught out in the open. We have to do something.”

Music. If I can think up a soundtrack or a score that fits the scene, then I'll play that. I also have some playlists for specific moods, so they help too if I know what the scene will be about. If not, just listening to music that I've compiled for specific character also helps. Darker, quieter room helps too. I find that alcohol however hampers me rather than help.

I second this Kudos! It was a lot of fun! Thank you, Eliane! We kind of put the scenario on your character's shoulders at the last minute but she held herself with aplomb. :love:

Welcome to Balmung! For the most part, people are very friendly here and enthused about RP! Don't be afraid to ask questions, quite a few folks on the RPC love answering them. I hope you have fun!

Transfer is probably your best bet. Still, welcome! I hope to see you on Balmung soon!