Roen

Welcome Sassy Sailor! I do believe that Balmung has plenty EU RPer population! I hope you make it to Balmung soon!

“Conflict and strife are indeed abundant upon this land,” Roen said as she stirred the contents of her bowl, absently eyeing various pieces of meat. “The Shroud has been under the rule, and sometimes even the threat, of the elementals there. La Noscea ran rampant with pirates throughout their history, and Thanalan still fights corruption within itself every sun. And you see for yourself what the Ishgardians face here.” The movement of her wooden spoon paused for a moment, the paladin’s gaze growing distant. “I used to believe that there were more who were disciplined, giving, and fair, that they far outweighed their opposite, and maintained the peace. “What I have learned since is that the scales tip back and forth often, where the few unruly and selfish administer violence or pressure upon those that cannot fend for themselves. Then it is left to those that want up uphold the fairness to resist and maintain order.” A frown was beginning to darken her features. “And sometimes, those means are not peaceful. Sometimes violence has to be met with more violence. And sometimes, the selfish still rules the land and all must abide by their law.” The paladin lowered her head, her forelocks falling about her face as she began to spoon more bites of the mutton into her mouth. She no longer wanted to speak of nor ponder on the lessons imparted to her in the past year. And yet, the way Khadai seemed bewildered of the contentions upon this land, she had to wonder if his people were completely at peace with one another. Did they truly achieve some kind of a harmonious understanding amongst themselves? Or was it more of a forced cooperation like her homeland who conquered other nations, and conscripted its people into the Imperial service? Roen found herself dismissing that thought as soon as it came. As much as he upheld the importance of function and efficiency, she could not imagine Khadai condoning more warfare to subjugate others. And yet, even she could not deny that throughout her childhood, she had mostly known only peace under the Emperor’s rule. Was it not the view of the Garlean Empire that their goal was conquer Eorzea to end its various threats and thereby bring peace and order to its people? The paladin stole a glance at Khadai from the corner of her eyes as he looked contemplatively into his empty bowl. He had called them “The Black Ones”, the people of her homeland. He had fought and killed many Garlean soldiers. Would he find her Imperial origins just as repulsive as most did in Eorzea? Roen’s first instinct was to not bring it up. She had learned in the last many years that she had spent here, that even while working to protect its people, many would cast an instant judgement upon others simply based on their origins. But then again, perhaps Khadai would understand such animosity. She was forced to set that thought aside when she heard another commotion at the edge of the camp as a small group of knights approached. Their chainmail armor bore scorch marks and blood stains, and a few were being supported by their comrades for they could not bear their own weight. A couple of mounts followed, bearing more wounded upon their saddles. Convictory Knights trotted out to meet and aid them, and Roen herself stood when she saw Ser Tabourot stride out as well, calling for a report. “Ser Tabourot!” One of the lead knights saluted immediately, sliding his helm atop his head, his voice crisp despite his limping gait. “We were set upon by our mark near the Black Iron Bridge! This one is lightning quick, ser. It struck fast and flew back up into the clouds before we were able to retaliate. Ser Porter and the rest of the men who were not injured are still out by the bridge, but I was tasked to bring the wounded here.” He nodded in thanks when the camp chirurgeon approached, and Roen followed closely behind, intent on assessing the wounds. “Is Ser Porter calling for reinforcements?” Ser Tabourot asked, his eyes narrowed. The knight answered with a nod. “He also alerted Ser Sarrasin’s men.” He shook his head, sounding somewhat breathless. Their trek apparently had been hurried through the Highlands to return to The Convictory. “Only a few of us were injured, the dragon swooping down from the skies with fire spewing from its maws. It snatched up Ser Fearon on its dive. We have… yet to come across him.” He bowed his head momentarily and Roen realized that the knight was hoping to find a body. “I believe it knew we were out on a hunt. We weren’t given the chance to try and bring the creature down. My hope is that Ser Vaillancourt is able to--” “Dragon!” came the emphatic warning from Kenwrec, one of the knights that Roen was familiar with in her previous trips to the encampment. The Hyur knight was usually tasked as a lookout to search the skies with a long scope to his eye. But never had she heard him call out that word before. It chilled her to the bone. All eyes, including those of the paladin shot upwards to the thick grey clouds. Could an approach of such a creature be so silent and inconspicuous? she wondered. At first she saw nothing, even the Highlands winds having quieted to an eerie silence. Her eyes darted quickly from cloud to cloud. It would make them even more of an effective predator. Then she caught a glimpse. A brief shadow shot through the billow of grey; it bore a great span of wings, and a long slim body. It was visible then not, maneuvering through the overcast like a water serpent swimming under the water lilies, as if to use it as its cover. And it was faster than she had ever imagined. “Make haste! Bring the injured into the camp!” Ser Tabourot stepped aside as he waved the rest of the men through the rows of lances and stakes. Already the knights within the Convictory were rushing forward with their bows and lances in hand. Roen started to back up along with the men, for she knew the bluff and the lances would give them some protection from the swooping aerial attacks. Her hand reached back to her shield hung upon her back. “Look out!!” Kenwrec called out again, but this time his exclamation was followed by a startled scream. Roen turned just in time to see something plummet through the air, as it came crashing down upon one row of wooden stakes. The height it was dropped from, and the weight of the object itself sent the set of stakes crashing forward. The sharp wooden beams were broken and thrown in different directions and sending broken splinters flying into the snow. Roen raised her gauntlet in front of her eyes shield it from any debris, but when she lowered her arm, she saw amidst the wreckage the body of a dead knight. It had sent the bowmen skittering to the side to dodge the impact against the fortifications, and that is when a spray of fire descended from the sky. Roen dove to the side, her arms and knees skidding into the snow as a massive blur of grey shadow shot past them. Screams rose from those that were caught within with incendiary assault, mostly the wounded that were being brought to the encampment. She heard more shouts echoing around her as she looked up again, already the creature taking to the higher atmosphere. She heard twangs and whistles of arrows being loosed into the sky, but she could not see any hitting their mark. It cannot swoop too close to the Convictory, but the wounded have been caught outside of it by that drop. Roen’s heart pounded as she scrambled back to her feet, darting to the nearest knight that was struggling on the ground. Did it follow them here? The paladin was curling the knight’s arm around her neck to stand him up when she felt the sudden gust of chill descending from above, battering anyone within the vicinity with wind swept snow. Roen instinctively turned her head away to shield her eyes, but she spun back around at the sound of a forceful buffet of wings beating the air. Her eyes slowly rose to gaze upon a magnificently fearsome creature descending before them. Ancient grey scales covered it from head to tail, and its massive wingspan was almost the entire length of the encampment. After two more beats of its powerful wings, the grey-white dragon came to a dexterous landing on the icy ground. Its nimble movements almost resembled a cat in its grace that belied its size, and its sharp talons dug into the icy earth. Its spiked tail coiled like a snake and the great antler-like horns that curled up and back from its head accentuated the angry deep set eyes. Those eyes made Roen pause for a fraction of a second. They glowed with deep red, the color of blood and fury. Then she realized its maws were opening wide. And from within its black depths came fire.

Roen kept her silence as Ser Tabourot berated Bellows, her eyes flitting to the rest of the men instead. Stray Oak rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, a habit he had when the Roegadyn was flustered. The rest of the men that they had arrived with still stood some distance away, muttering amongst themselves. Some of their eyes went to her, but most followed the Xaela as he walked away. The paladin could not tell if they shared Bellows’ animosity or if their frowns were in disapproval of the Midlander’s harassing outburst. But neither Bellows nor the men that came with them said anything further after the Elezen knight’s stern rebuke. The men turned their attention purposefully away and Bellows spun around and marched away, grumbling. Stray Oak lingered a moment longer, watching Bellows over his shoulder as he stalked away. The Roegadyn inched closer to the paladin and leaned in, keeping his voice low. “I’ve not seen ‘im like this since ya left, Deneith.” He shook his head, his broad frame slumping forward slightly. “He’s always goin’ on about conspiracies and such, but whether he actually believes yer friend to have had anythin’ ta do with the attack of them aevis, sure as day he don’t like the Xaela fella. He used ta play cards with Blacke and Fenco. Their deaths didn’t go over well.” The paladin sighed, her expression turning from consternation to concern. “I see. I was not aware he was close friends with the two.” She peered up at the Roegadyn, regarding him earnestly. “And what of you? Do you also suspect Khadai?” The Hellsguard quirked his lips, looking somewhat puzzled. He glanced from her to the Xaela warrior who had now taken a seat in the distance, away from the fire. “He did kill two mercs, an’ they were like us. Except…” His thick brows slowly bent downward, indicating the careful attention he was giving to the topic at hand. “Except they didn’t like to actually do the work. Just get paid. So not really like us, I s’pose.” When Roen canted her head expectantly, he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I try not ta think on stuff too much. Yer friend fought along with us against the aevis and the captain let ‘im go. That’s enough fer me.” He glanced down back at her and bore a toothy grin with a new realization. “And if he was some Dravanian spy, I doubt you’d be working with him, eh? Or alive for that matter.” The paladin snorted, although her expression remained relaxed. “I did bring him into the city of Ishgard, and the city has not burnt down yet under dragon fire,” she said wryly. “How is the captain?” Stray Oak shrugged his massive shoulders. “How isn’t he? Same as always. Strict, and sharp tongued. He’s never tolerated any foolery but since the Blacke and Fenco incident, ya won’t see anyone idle around the captain now.” The Roegadyn leaned forward again, glancing over his shoulder. “If Bellows keeps running his mouth, the captain might dismiss ‘im fer good. He’s been seen talkin’ ta all sorts of people tryin’ ta plead his case. There was even a woman that were askin’ about yer noble lady friend and the Au Ra.” He paused, eyeing the Midlander across the camp. “I think he’s been talkin’ ta whoever would listen. But the captain gave ‘im his final warnin’.” The latter was murmured with a resigned sigh. Roen exhaled long, watching Bellows slouched near the one of the huts. “Well, let us hope the hunt goes well,” she said simply. When Stray Oak bobbed his head energetically and turned to make his way back to his friend, the paladin continued to watch them, her brow furrowed. A part of her knew that Bellows could continue to cause more trouble and that she should be wary of men like him. Never give them the benefit of the doubt, she warned herself. The paladin glanced across the encampment to where she saw Khadai seated with his bowl, his back to the rest of the camp. Do not lose faith in your people, the Xaela’s rumbling voice rose in her memory. Another white steam of breath plumed before her lips as she sighed, the paladin bending over to retrieve her bowl of mutton and her small stool. She strode across the camp and planted the stool next to the Au Ra, taking a seat next to him. She stirred with her spoon to loosen the gravy once more before studying Khadai from the corner of her eyes. His visage remained as stoic as ever; it was rare that she gained any glimpse other than staunch determination and harsh stares. The paladin shrugged and spooned up another piece of meat, allowing the bustle of the camp to fill the silence between them as she enjoyed the stew. “I am eager to see Ser Vaillancourt’s skills against a dragon,” Roen said after swallowing the morsel. She kept her tone light, wanting to dismiss the unpleasantries that had just passed with Bellows. “Dragoons never fail to impress with their abilities. They were trained especially for the task of fighting dragons, after all. They are like the Khadai--called to defend, but specifically against dragons. They are the elite soldiers of Ishgard.” “So there you have it," she added with a hard smirk. "You two do have something in common."

"In the words of Larry David, 'You've been pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good' this year."

I might have a problem.

This is rather habit forming.

“Are you saying that I am ill-suited for this task?” Roen arched a brow at the warrior. Despite her words, her expression and carriage held no vexation; the paladin mulled over his question as she turned back to the bowl she held in her hand. She continued to stir the thick brown stew in thought, maneuvering the pieces of floating meat as if to gauge her next morsel. It was after some time that she spoke again. “The dragon would be a new foe to me as well. And my life and role has not solely been devoted to battle, as yours might have been. But…” The wooden spoon came to rest against the edge of the bowl and her gaze roamed about the active camp. “I too once swore to defend those in need. That is the reason I took up the sword and the shield. Now I am in Ishgard, a land that has toiled against the threat of Dravanians for a thousand years.” Her attention returned to the Xaela seated next to her, her voice gaining a clear and determined edge to them. “If I am not prepared to answer a call to arms against a dragon, then I should not be here at all.” She gave him an even look that held no bravado. “You have other obligations, Khadai.” Her lips twisted to one side, her brow furrowed. “This… is my obligation. I came to Ishgard to help fight the war. So this is exactly what I should be doing, whether I have experience in it or not.” She shrugged, smoothing her expression into placidity with a sigh. “Do not mistake this for neither audacity nor some conviction of valor. I have been trained to fight against larger creatures as well, but facing off against a dragon would not be a task I take lightly.” Roen sat straighter, her eyes going to Ser Tabourot and the group of knights around him. “I will do what I can to follow orders, learn from those around me, and try to protect those that I can.” She watched the soldiers as they went about their tasks, and while she still did not feel as if she was truly a part of them, she had come to respect the knights and soldiers of Ishgard. Despite all their differences, none could deny their tenacity or their perseverance. The paladin began to stir her mutton again, scooping up a particularly thick chunk of meat. She let it hover in the cool air for a moment, her eyes flickering back to Khadai who had remained silent. “Besides, I am also of the mind to aid you in your journey. It would do me no good to see you harmed to a dragon during a mere caravan escort, hm?” There was a small lift to one corner of her lips before she resumed partaking in the steaming stew. But just as she began to chew on her latest morsel, a bustle of movement attracted her attention. A new group of soldiers were being greeted at the periphery of the encampment, and while one guard gestured toward the Elezen knight, Ser Tabourot, Roen spotted another guard pointing her way. It did not take her long to understand why. Amongst the group of half dozen men stood Heibert Bellows and Stray Oak, the sellswords that Roen had worked with under Ser Tournes. The paladin groaned under her breath, and from Bellows’ expression, he was just as glad to see her. Or more so, the Xaela seated next to her. “Well, if it isn’t Deneith and her horned companion,” the Midlander sellsword said, approaching them both, his larger Roegadyn shadow lumbering behind. The Hyur’s half-mocking half-amused expression remained as ever as his eyes darted between her and Khadai. “I was under the impression that your status was still no longer with the company.” Roen immediately frowned, lowering her bowl to her lap. “I have a new assignment,” she answered sharply. “And I was under the impression that you had something to do with my current absence from the company.” Bellows snorted, hooking his thumbs into the grooves of his belt. A smug grin spread across his face. “That ain’t my doing, Deneith. Ya got yer Xaela friend to thank for that.” The paladin narrowed her eyes. “The company I keep has nothing to do with it. It was the unrest that you caused amongst the recruits--” “Because no one around here wants to be lookin’ over their shoulder for a Dravanian, while they are fighting dragons!” The Hyur exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He did not seem to care nor notice a few glances and perhaps even frowns thrown in their direction. “Aren’t we here to hunt down dragons? What’s he even doing here? Or you? Captain didn’t send for ya.” Roen calmly sat her bowl on the ground, a gesture that was slow and careful. She sat back up and regarded Bellows with an unwavering stare, her chiding tone cutting through the air. “You know as well as anyone that the Au Ra are not Dravanian. You yourself knew what he was. Do not start with accusations that have no foundation to stand on.” “Oh that’s right!” Bellows slapped his hand on his forehead. “It wasn’t because I thought him Dravanian, that I didn’t like him. It’s because he confessed to killing my fellow mates! And a horde of aevis just happened to show up after he arrived!” The Midlander swiveled his head around the camp exaggeratedly. “Did you tell anyone here about that?” Roen held a hand out to Khadai as if to hold his tongue for a moment, as she stood and took a step toward the Midlander mercenary. Her voice remained controlled, her words deliberate. “If he was to be held accountable for those crimes, then he would not be here now. Ser Tournes would have had him put in the gaols. You know this as well as I. Stop this, Bellows. You tried to incriminate him back then, and the Captain found your allegations baseless.” Stray Oak also stepped forward and laid a hand on the Hyur’s shoulder, but the Midlander jerked away. Bellows snorted bitterly. “Just because the Captain seems to favor ya don’t mean the rest of us don’t see what’s wrong here. I thought at least I’d seen the last of ya around me and mine, but I guess I was wrong.” He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the men he had arrived with at the Convictory; they were milling about near the Elezen knight, and all them had an uneasy expression about them. Ser Tabourot was even glaring in their direction. It might have been the silent look of reproach from the Elezen knight, or perhaps just the Midlander’s hurt pride. Roen was not certain. But something made Bellows whirl back around and spit at Khadai’s general direction, thick yellow spittle landing near the Xaela’s boot. “Well, I don’t trust him. And I sure ain’t going to have him watch my back.”

Roen chewed her lips, seemingly giving great consideration to the Xaela's question. “I could not agree more.” The paladin finally nodded firmly, a determined countenance set in place. She flicked Khadai an intent look. “I believe eggs would be the best. And perhaps some stew. Steak would sit too heavily for the hunt, but some stew could warm us." Several moments passed where the two regarded each other in silence. “Then I suppose we can proceed with the dragon hunt.” Roen gave a nonchalant shrug before a lopsided grin split her lips. Perhaps it was the promise of pending danger that spurred on an odd impulse to lighten the mood. The paladin gave a nod to Ser Tabourot to lead the way back to The Convictory, falling into an easy pace behind him and the men. After the wagon passed them by and Khadai and Roen were left to take up the rear, she sighed, her expression becoming pensive. “I have never actually faced off against a true dragon before," she confessed quietly. "Even though I have fought alongside Ishgardian soldiers for many moons now.” Khadai gave her a nod, his viridian gaze scanning the march of knights in front of them. He looked as if he wished to say something, but his lips tightened and he merely kept his stoic expression solidly on his face, similar to how the strata in granite might display themselves upon a cliff. "While I am obligated to join these men in Ser Tournes' stead, I do find the prospect of laying mine eyes on such a creature close up... rather exciting." She took a deep breath as she looked ahead to the trail that led upwards in a steady slope, one that she knew would inevitably lead to The Convictory. “I have heard many legendary tales about these beasts, since I was a child. These magnificent and yet fearsome creatures that are intelligent as any educated man, whose lifespan extend beyond our countless generations.” Roen bowed her head, her voice quieting notably so that it did not carry beyond the two of them. "If it was not for the fact that they sought to destroy all of Ishgard and the citizens within, I would even admire them. But their strength and power deserve our respect none the less." The warrior did not verbally respond, but an eyebrow arched itself at her description when she mentioned intelligence. His eyes were gleaming, not necessarily of bloodthirstiness, of a mixture of curiosity and surprise. “They sound remarkable,” he commented quietly. They both fell silent for the rest of the way. The climb eventually came to a plateau as dark silhouettes of sharpened wooden spikes pointed towards the sky came into view. They alternated with rows of longer and more deadly giant lances with jagged edges also standing vigilant, ready to impale any descending Dravanians. Wisps of smoke rose from the mobile huts that were situated within the encampment, while several scattered tents also served to give respite to weary knights. A fire with a steaming pot of stew set above it was being stoked by a soldier near the back tent. Armored guards greeted the band of knights with their hands to the chest, although Roen spotted a few of them shifting slightly when Khadai came into view. But Ser Tabourot said something to them, not quite loud enough for her to hear, which notably changed the guards' demeanor. Either they stiffened to attention and looked elsewhere, or a bow was given to the Elezen knight and then a subsequent nod of greeting to the Au Ra warrior. Whether it was a forced repression of unease or actual reassurance, it mattered not to Roen. Time and cooperation would eventually lead to tolerance, she hoped. Both she and Khadai were led to seats around the fire, and at the first whiff of the stew's aroma, her stomach growled just loud enough for her to lay a hand over it with a grimace. When was the last time she ate? She quickly cleared her throat and nodded in thanks as a Hyur soldier handed her a warm wooden bowl with a thick mutton stew swaying within. Roen carefully took a mouthful of it, before giving the Au Ra another glance. She too saw a flash of his eagerness when he volunteered to join in the hunt. He was trained for this after all. "You are deft with your shield," she recalled his words after their spar. "Mayhap when used in combination with my sword, a potent pair we would make on the battlefield." She almost smirked in anticipation. She wanted to test his words. But by the time she took her second spoonful of the thick soup, the paladin was frowning. She straightened and gave the Xaela stern look. "Khadai, should you be taking part in this? I know you are trying to acclimate yourself to this land during your... search, but do you not have other obligations? This hunt may be dangerous. I would not want to put you in harm's way before you fulfill your purpose--what you came here to do."

He is certainly an articulate one. Roen regarded Ser Maximilien Vaillancourt with an even expression, watching his exchange with Khadai. Night and day the two seemed; the Elezen was one of refined nobility with confident eloquence in both poise and charisma, while the Xaela's rigid and austere demeanor only accentuated his foreign bearing. Standing next to each other made the contrast all the more obvious. She was also beginning to realize that perhaps Ishgard was the most alien place in all of Eorzea for one such as Khadai to try and adapt to as an unlearned outsider. Even more than Ul'dah, Ishgard was defined by a social caste; to learn the ways of aristocracy, one was often bred into it and taught since childhood. What little she had gathered of Khadai's people, they seemed to value function, directness, and efficiency above all. But all of those things often were set aside amongst the high society in preference for the artistry of exchanging social graces and subtle political maneuverings. Having been raised within a wealthy family herself, Roen had never considered it a difficulty for someone who never had exposure to such upbringing. There was a sudden stirring of sympathy as she glanced back to Khadai. But that was when she found herself arching a brow instead as the Xaela warrior bowed to the dragoon. And the gesture itself was not completely awkward. Roen almost smiled. The paladin arched another brow to join the first when Khadai then agreed to join Ser Vaillancourt's men without too much of a protest. She may have objected in his stead if she saw that he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea, but after the initial objection he said nothing further. Since her efforts lately had been to try and acclimate Khadai to the ways of Ishgard and to get him better known amongst the residents here, Roen could not think of good reasons not to help the men. The Elezen dragoon was right; fighting alongside the knights against a common foe could do well to set their mind at ease regarding the Au Ra. Perhaps encountering this Ser Vaillancourt could prove to be fortuitous, Roen hoped. The Elezen actually seemed as though he wanted to help Khadai’s situation. He did not show any prejudice against the Au Ra and even indirectly admonished his men for their apprehensions. Even if he was just looking for a pair of extra sellswords to tip the scales in his favor against a dragon, the challenge the Elezen put forth to both her and Khadai seemed both amicable and bold. A part of her was ready to take him up on it. Roen also knew that at least she herself could not refuse. She was still under Ser Tournes' command after all. If the Knight Captain had promised aid, she was obligated to provide it should there be a need. "I have no objections, Ser Vaillancourt," she said with a firm nod, her tone sounding more certain and fearless than she felt. She knew it would do no good to show any anxiety she might have felt in front of the other knights, and she could not deny that there was a part of her that trembled with anticipation at the thought of facing off against a true dragon. “But I did ask for Khadai’s help in accompanying me for this supply run.” She looked over her shoulder to steal a glance at the Xaela to gauge his response to all this. She knew to expect his usual stern visage, but somehow felt that she may spy something more at times. “It is up to him if he too wishes to join. He is not under Ser Tournes’ command and is not exactly obligated to follow his orders.” She gave the Au Ra a thoughtful look. “Even though I have no doubt that he will prove worthy of the sword he carries.”

Hmmmm. How do I fulfill this and still work on my own relic... a quandary.

A bit of energy for the morning. [video=youtube]

Roen immediately stood straighter when she spotted the group of knights. She scanned the troops behind the dragoon to see if she could recognize any of them, but amongst the sea of anxious faces, she spotted none that were familiar. She watched as the dragoon gave orders to the rest of his men, before she stepped forward and placed herself between Khadai and the Elezen who spoke. “The blizzard was our delay,” Roen answered succinctly, giving the dragoon’s armor and his lance a once look over. This was not the first time she had come across one of the famed dragoons of Ishgard, but every time she did encounter one, she could not help but be impressed. Their armor was sleek and fierce in appearance; it had smoothened curves over certain surfaces but also was reinforced with spikes and scales that punctuated their fearsome silhouette. She had heard about their specialized skills against dragons even from when she was back in Thanalan, that she could not help but pause and watch them in battle the first time she saw them. “Roen Deneith,” the paladin introduced herself with a hand laid upon her chest and a cant of her head. She was relieved to hear him describe the carcass and skull on the stake as ‘barbaric’ even though some of his men still gave Khadai distrustful looks as they passed. Calming both her expression and tone into one of placid civility, she swept one arm behind her to gesture to the Xaela warrior. “And this is Khadai. We were detained at the Mill for a few bells earlier due to the blizzard, and set out as soon as we were able. The snowdrift had slowed our progress, I hope the delay has not caused too much trouble.” “And I was not aware that Ser Tournes had sent word,” Roen continued in a neutral tone, although she felt a frown inadvertently rise at the thought. She had not received another missive from the Knight Captain since he appointed her as a tutor for House Theron. She thought that she would be invited to return to her old unit after many suns had passed, but no such word came. Roen had only taken to these caravan escorts as a way to spend some time outside of the gates in between teaching her wards. “I am currently not in his company although I remain under his command. I suspect his men may join you soon.” The paladin crossed her arms, her eyes going to where the other two knights had gone, leading their own respective group of knights away. She scanned the horizon and then the grey skies with a measure of wariness before turning back to the Elezen. There were only a few possible ‘marks’ would call for a mobilization of so many men. Dragons. Roen looked to the Elezen and then the men standing behind him They all seemed readily armored for battle with dragonkin, which is why she suspected that the tension seemed almost palpable amongst some of them and their regard of Khadai. However, the Elezen did not seemed fazed at all by the Au Ra. For this, she was grateful. The paladin also noticed a few of the soldiers studying the mounted display, so the paladin too turned her attention back to the dead aevis. “You said you did not expect to see another.” She flicked the dragoon a sidelong look. “A scene like this is only the second one that I have come upon. You have seen others before? Do you know who is responsible for it? And why?”

Welcome to the RPC! I have to say, your RP history and why you came to the RPC sound just like mine! I too felt very overwhelmed when I got here on how to get started. Although if you RPed on MMORPGs, I think you already have the mechanics down. If learning everything about the lore feels overwhelming, I know exactly how you feel. Wiki page on the RPC has basics outlined for you, races, timeline, and such. It's a good place to start. It doesn't give you everything but you don't really need to know it all before getting started. But since you already have ideas for your Elezen, Hyur, and Lalafell, you likely know some stuff about the races and jobs already! People here are also very friendly and helpful for the most part, so don't be afraid to ask. (except about White Mages. Don't ask about those. I kid, I kid! Mostly. Okay not really. ANYWAY...) Welcome to the RPC! I too wish you some epic RP!

Then Everything about this is wrong. Roen stared at the man's unconscious form lying on the basement floor. Like most Highlanders he was tall of stature, his head shaved clean, dark-skinned like his sister. But Harvard Blackstone bore only a slight resemblance to Delial. The paladin studied his breathing; it was even and steady. Her brows creased when she spotted the growing welt on the side of his head, where Shaelen had delivered a swift but hard kick to knock him unconscious. What was she expecting, after all, when she had suggested to the two mercenaries that tracking down Delial’s brother was their only option of negotiating with the woman? Roen herself knew quite intimately the quick and brutal violence that Shaelen was capable of. The paladin could see the anger simmering just beneath her cocky retorts--an anger all due to the the death of Aylard Greyarm, suffered at the hands of Delial Grimsong. The second half of the mercenary pair was Qaeli Varily, the silver-haired former champion of the Blood Sands. She had been on Gharen’s list of ‘people to contact’ should there be any trouble involving her brother. Both the paladin and the former gladiator had received each other with a measure of caution, neither knew the other had existed until Roen sought her out. But at the word of Gharen’s impending fate, the heavy accented Hyur woman readily offered her help. Much to Roen’s chagrin, she also showed a penchant for brutality, if her verbal threats were to be believed. Roen did not want either of them anywhere near Harvard Blackstone. She glanced down to the loops of coarse rope in her hand; she had demanded to be the one to talk to him alone and to see to his bindings. The paladin frowned as she set the rope aside on the floor, coming to a kneel next to the man. When she lightly touched his bruised scalp to examine it further, the man began to stir. “Ow…” the Highlander muttered sourly, his lashes fluttering open. It seemed to take him a moment to focus on her, but when his eyes seemed to clear, he immediately frowned. He flinched at her touch. "Apologies... about how we got you here," Roen said quietly, lowering her head, her voice kept low. "But this matter is of great import." She continued to watch him, and although both Qaeli and Shaelen warned her of some possible attempt at an escape or violence from the man, Roen did not have such apprehensions. Resignation hung upon his slumped frame like a heavy robe, and even his attempt at sitting up straight was abandoned half way. His form was wiry, suggesting he did not do much heavy work, and he had worn no weapons on him when he was searched. The man was no fighter. When Harvard propped himself up with one elbow and leaned his head back against the boxes behind him, Roen continued. "I would like to talk to you. One on one." She held his gaze intently. "About your sister." "I already told you all that I don't know what she's up to,” the man muttered, lightly touching his head. “Had to go and kick my head in anyways." Roen winced, knowing exactly what that kick felt like and the ache it left in the aftermath. She sat on the ground, leveling her gaze to his. "I believe you, that you do not know where your sister is. Or that you support her. What she does.” "Then why am I here?" He looked around blearily at the rest of the darkened room. It was a storage room in the basement of Qaeli’s residence. The room had no windows, only rafters, wooden columns, and crates. The small space was only dimly lit by a distant lantern. "Is this... even Ul'dah? I just wanted to do my job, that's all. I have bills to pay, same as anyone." "Delial told me of you, that while you two do not share a family bond, she still considers you the most important person in her life." Roen looked away, guilt darkening her expression. “You are here because I was desperate." She closed her eyes, and when Harvard only answered her with an expectant silence she swallowed. "I am desperate to save my own brother,” Roen confessed, looking back to the Highlander. "And your sister has him." Harvard regarded Roen silently for a moment, his lips--thin already--seeming to draw tighter. His restrained ire only brought more words to come tumbling forth. "I do not want you harmed. I only... want her to think we may consider it." She made a face, those words tasting bitter as soon as it left her tongue. She turned away from him again, instead looking behind her to the stairs leading up to the main floor. "Delial knows me well enough even to suspect my bluff... but she will not call theirs." “Do you think she really cares?" he asked incredulously. Roen blinked, turning back to the man. "She does. For you." Harvard shook his head, then bumped it back against the crate behind him. A momentary wince gave way to a scowl. "I'm sorry you think so. I don't know what you expect she'll do but she's... I don't think she cares about anybody." His jaw tightened. "Not if it doesn't help her." Roen stiffened. "She twists truths, but she claims she does not outright lie. If that is the case, you are the only thing she cares for. Perhaps the only thing in her life." She fixed her gaze on the man. "She said she would do anything for you. You are blood." The Highlander met her gaze with his own eyes - an odd icy blue - before he looked away and settled them somewhere on the far wall. "If I'm the only thing it's cause she made it so. She didn't care for the rest of us. Westor, an' dad. They were blood, too. It's all just blood to her." "What do you mean?" “What do you think?” he retorted with a sharpness not unlike his sister’s. “You know what they call her back home? What her legacy is? Kinslayer.” Harvard’s stare returned to Roen for a breath but she could see the accusation and the anger kept close, kept cold and hard beneath his skin. “It don’t have anything to do with me. Not that it matters. Here we are all the same.” Roen froze, just staring at the man. "Kinslayer..." she echoed in a whisper. She found herself searching her memories, reevaluating all the conversations she and Delial had in the time that the two had gotten to know each other. When Delial had somehow earned her trust. Roen had been certain, at least until this very moment, that Delial’s words of her only surviving brother was genuine. That he was the only person that mattered in her life. It was an uneasy truth that Delial had shared begrudgingly, and Roen believed it to be true. Was it? "Why does she care for you so?" she asked hastily, fighting the pitting feeling in her stomach. “I’m the last one. I don’t know why. Sold me out, too, just like with the rest.” His face fell and his fists clenched. “Said it would be safer. Ain’t so bad in the south. Better than dying a traitor. Pretty words all plenty rich comin’ from--” A bitter grin flashed across his lips and a harsh breath hissed out through his teeth. Gingerly, he tapped the side of his shorn head not too far from where his skin and darkened and swollen. “Got me right here, too, right before clappin’ on the chains.” Her hands closed tightly, and she pressed them upon her lap."It is my brother she holds. He is an Ala Mhigan, just like you.” Roen sighed heavily, her gaze going to the floor. Her knuckles had turned pale in their grip. “She knew of our relation from the beginning. She did not tell me this until after she had him." “I'm sorry about that," Harvard said quietly after a long pause. Roen could hear that some of his misgivings had faded from his voice. "But... do you even think he's still alive?" "He is. At least, she has said so. She offered me a trade. Two lives for his. Lives of two young Highlanders that belong to the Resistance." Roen swallowed. "I... cannot make that bargain." "Still chasing the Resistance..." The Highlander shook his head slowly. "So... that's what I am, then. The card up your sleeve." Roen sat up straight, looking to him imploringly. "I cannot harm them, nor will I allow anyone to harm you." She leaned in, shaking her head firmly. "I will not. But... if she at least is willing to bargain for you, her brother..." She felt her shame tighten its grip around her heart. "I may have a chance yet for the return of my own." A long pause fell between them, where the paladin and the Highlander regarded each other, taking each other’s measure. “Will you at least, stay here, until I get him back?" she asked tentatively. In that moment, Roen glimpsed an image of Delial in her brother, for there was a certain stoic quality the man shared with his sister. But that gave way to another resigned sigh as he slumped in his seat. "I don't wanna get beat up again," he mumbled. "And I don't think you're just gonna let me go even if I wanted to." Roen bowed her head in apology. "I just need you to stay out of sight. And anywhere else, Delial will find you, I fear. Then my own hopes are lost." She frowned, her frame tense. "But I will give you my word, I will do my best to return you to your normal life. Very soon." Harvard seemed to contemplate that, before he nodded. "She's not going to let this go, you know. Delial. She doesn't... she never liked being wrong.” He added then, his voice lowering further, “And she never liked people getting in her way." The paladin narrowed her eyes on Harvard, her expression hardening. "She made enemies as soon as she took my brother. She of all people, should expect no less." "I hope you stop her. Stop her taking people." Roen blinked at that. She reached for the coil of rope and slid it across the floor toward him. "If they come to check in on you, just put your arms behind you with the rope. I will explain to them soon enough." She rose back to her feet. "Right," Harvard grumbled, staring balefully at the rope. "Gratitude." It was a pointless thing, but she said it anyway. "Don’t." It made the paladin pause, but she had nothing else to offer. She turned and left the cellars, locking the door behind her.

The Grindstone drawing and the Elezen and Highlander. Give me that rep button!!!

The corpse of the aevis was unmistakable. Roen had seen other similar displays--the remains of dragonkin and beastkin alike left out in the open, chained or just abandoned where they had been killed. She thought it was just another grim reminder of the ongoing war, and a part of her wondered if it also served to boost the confidence of weary soldiers who faced the possibilities of death every sun in battling such creatures. But the sight that greeted her now somehow seemed more than just an effort to boast a victory. As the paladin continued to stare at the staked carcass, she came to realize why. There was another skull at the pointed tip, and it did not belong to any fiends. Its smaller size was similar to that of men, and the broken bones to the sides of the cheeks made the identity of who it belonged to obvious. This skull was that of an Au Ra. Roen pulled back on the reins, bringing the birds and the wagon to a stop. Her gaze first flickered to Khadai, who had also stopped as his attention was fixated on the gruesome sight. She could see his frame turn rigid, his hand reaching for the sword that hung at his back. But then it dropped, and the warrior shivered. He said nothing and continued on past. The paladin scowled. Khadai had not said a word on the incident since they discovered the body of the female Au Ra on the wooden stake. The grisly vision had haunted her since, and she wondered if it too lingered on Khadai’s mind. Having gained more insight on the Xaela warrior since, as well as having spotted his brief but veiled reaction just now, Roen suspected that it must trouble him more than he had been letting on. “Khadai, wait,” she called out. The paladin hopped off the wagon, wading through the thick snowdrift to inspect the ghastly scene. She noted the roughly drawn picture on its flank first: a lance through a dragon’s skull. The comparison drawn to the Au Ra skull on the top of the stake was unmistakable. As she approached the wooden spike, she also noted the words that were carved into the shaft. “Where there is sin, we bring atonement,” she read the words out loud. Roen narrowed her eyes and tapped her fingers against the wood. “These are the same words that were also carved into the stake we found near Dragonhead,” she said, clear enough for Khadai to hear. To the paladin’s mind, this was proof that these may be indeed ritual killings, and the nature of the words seemed to imply a religious purpose. And yet when she had inquired about it to Ser Heuloix, he knew naught of any radical groups that carried out such abominable practices. Although the fact that it was an accepted Ishgardian tradition to hurl people who were suspected of heresy off of a cliff to see if they die from their innocence or were to be killed if they revealed their guilt… Roen silently lamented the fact that staking heretics did not seem entirely outside the realm of possibility. But that meant that a race of people were being unjustly targeted, solely based on their appearance and alien nature alone. That she could not abide by. “These are not isolated incidents,” she pondered aloud. She studied the carved depiction on the flank once more, committing it to memory. She gave Khadai a sidelong glance. “It maybe a group of zealots, from the drawing on the flesh. I will… ask others about it. See if it means something to someone.” The paladin paused, furrowing her brow. “But this is not the norm, even for a land such as Ishgard.” The edge of her voice had softened just slightly although her expression remained intent, as if imploring him to listen. “The Holy See recognizes the Au Ra as its own people, not Dravanians.” She quickly dismissed the pang that accompanied the memory of her own misjudgement as she too mistook Khadai for a dragon thrall in their initial meeting. Roen chewed her lips, a concerned pause filling the silence between them for a few breaths. When she spoke again, her voice had quieted and her gaze rested steady on the warrior. “Are you… at unease about this?”

CAN'T SHIP IF IT IS ALREADY SAILING! FLOWER CALLED IT MONTHS AGO! \o/ PICS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPE- Oh wait. Nevermind.

This is a little addictive...

Hm... I know a few others who are currently carrying on a storyline peripherally involving House Durendaire and Fortemps... It would be great to have these houses mix it up!

Every time Capheira posts, I just stare at her wonderfully drawn avatar. And stare at it for awhile. It's... really good.

While the character isn't mine (contrary to some popular belief out there...) IMAX is my go to for inspiration when I write for Jameson Taeros. Lately, knowing that character's arc, I've been listening to this song a bit. But my favorite from IMAX is this one: Nightlife - IMAX It was the sole inspiration for at least one written scene, anyway.

Roen blinked, just staring at Khadai as he took point in front of the wagon. “You… do not have to walk ahead of the...” she began, then stopped. The paladin shook her head as she took a seat at the head of the wagon; she could not argue that a pair of extra eyes in front was a bad idea. She looked to the space where she had cleared the snow next to her, but she plopped her satchel down on the empty seat instead. “Due south,” she gestured with her hand. “There is a trail there leading around the side of the bluff, wide enough for a wagon. It should get us down from this plateau.” She glanced to the grey skies, squinting her eyes in thought. How long had the blizzard delayed them? Khadai’s words did instill a small sense of urgency that had not been there before; the caravan supplies behind her could be crucial potions and food that were essential to those waiting for them. In truth, she was quietly relieved that he had offered to accompany her. She did have others that were to guard the caravan before the storm, but they had left early in lieu of the bad weather that the dark clouds were bringing with them. If it was not for the injured chocobo and the fact that she had asked the Xaela warrior to join her there, she too might have left for the Convictory bells ago. Now that the storm had passed, the supplies still needed to be delivered, and it would have been a task that she would have undertaken by her lonesome. Having Khadai’s capable company along eased her mind considerably. A breath of steam plumed in front of her nostrils as she exhaled long, the paladin taking up the reins in both hands. She could not help but recall the warnings of Ser Heuloix as he shared with her his thoughts, and likely those of other Ishgardian knights, regarding those like Khadai. “Officially… the Au Ra are recognized as people. Not creatures, not dravanians. Unofficially however... there is little to protect them should a knight or band of knights see fit to put what, by all counts, appears to be the thousand year enemy of our city-state, our people, our very goddess herself, to the blade.” Surely that is not the prevailing belief now, Roen told herself. But knowing that even fair minded beings like Ser Heuloix once thought the Au Ra to represent danger to their home… it did trouble her. How would the Xaela be received at the Convictory then? From Khadai’s tone, the paladin could not tell if the Xaela warrior had already became acquainted with those who patrolled near the encampment. Roen herself had only met a couple, having accompanied more than a few caravans through the area. She thought that by having Khadai seen working with others in delivering supplies, the sight of him would become a familiar thing, rather than something that warranted alarm. The more acclimated both Khadai and the Ishgardians became with each other, better the chances that the Xaela could seek refuge in various camps if need be. At least, that was her hope. Roen glanced to the back of the dark-skinned Au Ra in front of her and sighed. The journey ahead of him may be wrought with some difficulties yet… but maybe with small steps like these taken, he would not have to face them alone for too long.

I think this is a fantastic idea! Where were you a few months ago...? Good luck with this!

My choice would be a story-driven RP. I prefer there to be some over arcing theme/story that is present to the ongoing RP. It doesn't have to drive every scene mind you, I don't mind occasional slice of life RP if it leads to character development, making connections, or just minute but enjoyable scenes. And to have a good story, you need a little bit of everything! A spoonful of comedy, a sprinkle of romance, a dash of adventure with some drama stirred in! And sometimes to run a scene or a conflict, you may need a DM to drive, or some NPCs to fill in to increase the immersion. My jam? Scenes that move me, bring me to tears, twist my gut, or make me think on it for days. But you can't have those all the time. The build to some moments like those are made up of everything else. I also treasure little gems that are discovered in a scene, where you pause and go "well, what do you know!" because you just took part in someone else's character growth or there was a connection made. I love those too. So I guess it is "whatever makes a good story" for me.