Roen

It has been awhile since I posted some screenshots! "There is new unrest in the Shroud. War may be coming, Roen, and a new dreadmoon is in the sky over my home forest. It is an omen I have not seen since the Calamity." "There is one more thing." Roen looked intently into his shimmering eyes. "You said something in the cave. That happiness meant nothing. I know your people live different and very directed lives, but I hope when you return, if you find your place with your people again, that you also find... happiness. I believe in the end, it is something that everyone should seek. In their own way." "What if we used Taeros as a bargaining chip? We certainly have nae love fer th' man." Gharen shrugged. Roen glanced away, falling quiet for a moment. She nodded slowly. "Aye. Perhaps." Delial also offered a small nod. Her gaze settled somewhere between the siblings as a decidedly dark mood settled over her. "Anything at all," she muttered. "I would wonder of Taeros' value if she has failed to seek him yet. Unless she is waiting for something." Roen gave Delial a glance. "I know not of her madness."

You... could link your wiki on your intro thread so those of us who are lazy (me) and have terrible time misspelling Elezen names (also me) can just click on it from your post and take a gander at your wiki... :cactuar: In any case, welcome to the RPC! Edit: Yay, wiki link! And nice page!

Welcome! I just saw your directory entry! Your character sounds interesting. Unfortunately, I too am in the NA timezone but I hope you find the RP you are looking for!

Okay two more! Raelisanne: rope and moonlight Josette: wax and winter Both are pretty much SPOT ON.

Roen opened the door slowly, her free hand on the hilt of her sword. The room beyond the heavy double steel doors was not what she had expected. Where the winter chill pervaded the dark long hallway, the hidden chamber within was considerably warmer. Roen glanced up at the high ceiling where a chandelier of Belah’dian glass hung overhead. The chandelier's light added to the Nymian-style lanterns that hung from the walls, well... none would suffer for the lack of illumination here. Tall eight-fulm shelves with accompanying ladders were stocked with bottles of reagents, books, and ceramic pots, and a heavy polished rosewood tables sat at the center of the room. It was a sophisticated laboratory hidden underground, far beneath the affluent districts of the Pillars; Roen had not seen the likes of it since she set foot in the Alchemist Guild in Ul’dah. She had heard rumors of strange and fantastical experiments that were tied to the Alchemist Guild then, but none were ever as ambitious as to try and directly affect an entire city-state's populous. Was it even possible? To remove something within one’s blood, a trait that had been inherited through generations? She shook her head. After all that she had seen, she knew not to doubt the possibilities. Nor to underestimate the reach and capabilities of the ambitious and the powerful. Roen took note of the various items that were neatly assembled on the table, her eyes scanning the area for anything that could be useful. The laboratory was thankfully unoccupied for the moment, and she would take full advantage to gather what information she could from the place. She knew not if a relic such as the keystone would be kept in a place like this, but surely something of import must be here. Rifling through drawers and shelves, and even tracing and inspecting the walls for hidden compartments yielded some documents. There were some historical records of Ishgard’s population: it systematically categorized many noble family names with details on how strong their lineage ties were to the Knights Twelve. Some individual names were highlighted, with notes made if they were bastard children. The illegitimate offspring were listed separately, and then many of them crossed off. Roen did not know what that meant. She also came across piles of notes that mostly contained anatomical diagrams; there were detailed drawings of various organs and viscera of dragonkin. Alongside them, there were newer notes comparing it to that of the Au Ra and the Elezen. It was painstakingly detail-oriented and many times rather gruesome. When she then came across the rack with manacles in the corner surrounded by faint old blood stains, she shuddered to think how exactly those illustrations were obtained. Roen paused when she found a hidden compartment on the underside of a desk, a small tablet tucked within. It drew her eye because it was of Garlean make. She had seen them before in her father’s labs. But just as she was about to activated it, she heard the sounds of another door opening followed by voices coming from the far side of the room. She winced that she had not spotted the second door on the other side of the laboratory. She ducked under the desk that she had been inspecting, crouching ever still so that her armor did not announce her presence. “The final batch of specimens should be arriving soon,” a woman’s voice intoned. It was somewhat hushed. “We really shouldn’t.” “You worry over much. We have plenty of time. Everything is already in order for the final step.” The second was a breathy male voice. Roen did not recognize either of them. Their words ceased as the sound of glass bottles clinked together drowned them out, as if being shoved aside. “Once the delivery is made, we will have absolutely no time to ourselves.” Roen narrowed her eyes when she began to hear more shuffling and quickened breaths. She rubbed her eyebrows. Perhaps if she were to engage them while they were unclothed, they would be defenseless... “Ah!” An alarmed cry ceased whatever activity the two were engaging in. It made Roen reach for her sword. “Whew… we nearly dropped that. That would have been disastrous.” A long sigh followed. “This was a bad idea, Aurelieaux.” “Oh come now, Isene. Are you not excited by what is to come? With the keystone in hand, and all that we have learned from the remains of Kavir, we finally have a chance at success. Does that not make your blood tingle?” “Does Miss Reeves share your optimism?” Isene’s voice did not carry the same energy as the male's. The male, Aurelieaux, snorted. “Does that woman ever show any emotion?” He chuckled then paused when it was not reciprocated. “I’ll admit that she is quite knowledgeable, but odd. Too chilly and distant. We rarely hold any conversation. She only gives me instructions.” “Hence the sparseness of your reports,” Isene chided. Aurelieaux tsked at the rebuke. “I relay all that I see and learn to you. It still strikes me as strange that you have me spy on her work. As if you don’t trust her yourself.” “I don’t trust her,” Isene answered sharply. “None had heard of her until she appeared at our doorstep. If it wasn’t for Lord Jeaumis vouching for her unconventional methods, the Marquis would have never agreed to patron her.” “Do I sense a bit of jealousy?” Aurelieaux purred playfully, but then quickly changed his tone. “No, of course not. What would Isene Daumois ever find in a middle class Hyur to be envious of?” “Just make certain the preparations are complete.” The woman’s voice had become decidedly colder. Her footsteps echoed further away. “Don’t be angry. I was merely--” Aurelieaux chased after the woman and the door closed behind him. Roen exhaled a breath she had been holding and scurried out from under the table. She glanced to the other end of the laboratory, where the two had left. The other door was hidden from view behind a partition, but she heard nothing else after their exit. It made sense that there might be a portal leading out elsewhere than the Foundation, and from the sound of things, more were to arrive soon from that direction. It was time to leave. As she tucked the tablet into a bag, she hoped that Khadai had better luck than she did.

You had me at this. And this. Welcome to the RPC! I will eagerly await anything either of you put up in this forum here. And maybe even running into your characters someday.

Roen studied the pages, her eyes skimming over the contents. The ones written in code she set aside, but the alchemical notes… they caught her eye. Not only because it was written plainly, perhaps the author felt that technical details would not translate well in short hand, but some pages also described various procedures that involved magitek. Roen was no expert in the field, but having been raised by a scientist whose work primarily involved Garlean technology, it was impossible not to have absorbed some knowledge in her early years. So, this scientist that The Redeemers had employed, was also familiar with Garlean technology? Valencourt had mentioned that The Court did bring in an alchemist as part of their efforts to eradicate the dragon influence from Spoken blood. It was with her research along with the relic and knowledge presumably from Khadai’s people, that they had made a breakthrough. When Roen got to the middle of the page, she paused. She read the passage twice. It mentioned trials using the knowledge of the Void and creatures therein. The findings on it were succinctly put, it was deemed too unstable a factor. But the fact that it was used in their studies at all… “Do me a favor and keep an ear to the ground for me, would you?” Delial had asked her many moons ago regarding any matters involving the Voidsent in Ishgard. Grimsong was on the hunt for a particular Garlean scientist then. Roen’s eyes narrowed. Could it be? She glanced back at Khadai then the Marquis and the female knight. He was right. Just the two of them would not be able to expose The Redeemers. At least not yet. But since this knowledge was obtained from the two prisoners tied in front of them, Khadai and she had very little time to act, before what they learned here became also known to The Redeemers. No matter how they dealt with the bodyguard and the Marquis, they still had perhaps a sun at most, before whatever was marked on the map would become useless. “Then we move on this now,” she rolled up the papers and tucked it into her pack.

Roen gave half a glance to the altercation between Khadai and the female knight as she ran past them. The robed man--presumably the Marquis--had managed to unlock the door and rush in, and was just about to slam it shut when she rammed her shoulder against it. It jolted his momentum just enough to throw the man off balance, causing him to stumble and fall back onto the floor. That was all the opportunity that she needed to charge through. The heavy robe that was meant to disguise him only served as further hinderance, its hem wrapping around his legs as he struggled to rise and flee. But as he spun to scramble toward the next room, he could only let out a choked gurgle as Roen grabbed and yanked on the cloak. The heavy cowl fell away from his face as he turned, to reveal an ornate hawlike mask. It was momentarily disconcerting to stare at an expressionless mask. Was he fearful behind the disguise? Or confident? She took his eery silence as the former. With a slick hiss of steel, her sword was drawn with its edge coming to a stop an ilm away from his throat. She could see his larynx bob. “Do not make a sound,” she warned. “Lest you force me to silence you.” When he complied with a nod, she pointedly glanced at his hands near his neck. “Leave the clasp as is, and hold your hands out where I can see them.” Still keeping a hold on his cloak, she stepped to the side of him, giving herself the view of the door. She heard no other noise from within. Valencourt had spoken true when he assured her that only the Marquis and the bodyguard would occupy the manor at the time of the meeting. Roen let out a quick exhale when she saw Khadai enter, the bloodied knight in tow. He pushed the armored woman to the ground and shut the door behind him; the Au Ra then immediately glanced out the window to see if there were any witnesses. When he turned back around and nodded, Roen sighed with relief that the first part of their plan had been successful. As her eyes warily returned to their two prisoners, however, she reminded herself it would all be for naught if what came next did not bear fruit.

Breathe. Just breathe. Roen forced herself to slow down her breaths, inhaling and exhaling deliberately to calm her nerves. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them to adjust the hilt of her sword. She was about to adjust her gauntlets when she realized she was fidgeting. And fidgeting while standing guard could be construed as unnatural behavior. Blending into the surroundings in a wealthy district like the Pillars was not an easy task. And yet here she was, pretending to stand guard in front of an estate, as she kept watch on another building much further down the street. It was a small and an unassuming manor that Ser Valencourt had pointed out. This was where the Marquis would hold meetings, but only today. When the next opportunity would present itself, the dragoon did not know. The fact that it was only two suns ago that Roen had discovered the information regarding the Redeermer’s very existence, she had woefully little time to prepare. Such was her dilemma in trying to plan what to do, when Khadai contacted her. The tale of the Redeemer’s ritual and the possibility that it involved the missing keystone, the Xaela warrior became determined to find the truth of it. He had no doubts that these people were the ones that were likely responsible for his kinsman’s death. And once that certainly had solidified in his mind, he would not be turned from setting upon one of the leaders of this occult group. Could she blame him? They were responsible for many murders against his own kind. But more importantly, at least for Khadai, they had something that his people desperately needed. Still, it was because of what these people were capable of, that Roen advised caution. Or more preparation at least. But Khadai would not hear it. Even as she spoke of trying to muster up reinforcement in some legal way, he began preparations to strike against the Marquis. “The Court has many of its own members within the Order of the Temple Knights and the Church,” Roen recalled Ser Valencourt’s warning clearly. He had cautioned that if she was planning on moving against the Marquis, that her failure would result in extreme scrutiny. That was what made her hesitate on insisting to Khadai that she seek out others for counsel before setting upon this meeting place. She could not risk implicating others in a crime if things were to go wrong. If what Ser Valencourt said was true, The Court wielded much influence behind the scenes. Although Roen did not believe everything that the Elezen had said, especially when it came to the reasons why he suddenly could not aid her when he had already investigated the group so thoroughly, she did see certain apprehension mixed with distaste in his eyes when he spoke about The Court. She did take him at his word in their capabilities. So perhaps there was some wisdom in trying to isolate and question a Marquis on their own when given the chance. Khadai and she were both outsiders with no true ties to Ishgard. No others needed to be put at risk. And if they did gather some valuable information, perhaps then she could bring that to others who would have more sway within Ishgard’s new government to put a stop to all this. And as if in cue, two figures walked past on the street. She did not see the face of the first shorter figure, he wore a heavy hood over his head and a cloak that covered his clothes. But just a step behind him was a taller unmistakable warrior. She was well armored and towering figure of a woman with platinum hair, adorned in pristinely polished Ishgardian armor. Judging her gait and the ease in which she regarded the sword that swung by her hip, Roen knew the make of the knight’s armor was not just for show. “The Marquis travels with a single bodyguard. But don’t let that fool you. She is a capable one.” Roen’s chest rose and fell with another long breath. Khadai was determined to do this, with or without her. And these Redeemers were corrupt people: a secret organization of power that has committed atrocious crimes. And thus far, there was no legal recourse to bring them to justice. She let out another breath to steady herself. She knew Khadai was also watching, hidden elsewhere. He had been subtle enough to stay out of her line of sight, which was prudent. One did not see many Au Ra in a district like the Pillars. Her hand lifted to the linkpearl in her ear. “They are here.”

Roen paced back and forth. Sebastian, the grey pup that always seemed to have a keen eye for people’s moods, trotted alongside her, his black eyes watching her worriedly. A frown had been her constant companion since she had returned to the Theron manor, and she was thankful that her wards had stepped out for a bit of shopping in the Jeweled Crozier. Her mind was too preoccupied with all that she had learned, that she could not sit from the restlessness and the agitation of it all. “The one you are seeking are called The Redeemers. And they seek to eradicate the dragon’s influence from all our bloodlines.” The confessions of the dragoon, Maximillien Valencourt, still rang through her mind like a church bell echoing through the midday. Surprisingly, he was one of the first to answer her missives; Ser Tournes was still across the realm in the Sea of Clouds, and Roen had yet to pay a visit to Ser Heuloix and Lady Dufresne. And even with his written acceptance of her request for a meeting, Roen had arrived at the Valencourt estate with some measure of apprehension. The last time she had met the dragoon, the Elezen was full of confidence and charm, but it was clear to her that his own ambitions were paramount in his eyes. Would he answer her inquiries about possible conspiracies that were glossed over by most authorities in Ishgard, because it largely targeted outsiders? The answer she received was far more than she could have ever imagined. Upon receiving her in his library, Ser Valencourt retained the gregariousness that Roen had remembered. But as their conversation continued, she noticed a sharper edge to his demeanor. His smile did not quite reach his eyes, and where his confidence used to be smooth and polished, there was a dullness this time; as if a shadow of disquiet had stained the underside of an otherwise clean glass. But even more unexpected than that, was what he was willing to share with her. When she questioned him again about the Au Ra killings, the Elezen gave her a vastly different answer than the one he had on the hillside of Western Coerthas. “The Au Ra killings were nothing more than the Redeemer’s zealots needing an outlet for their frustrations.” Maximillien said with a dismissive wave. “The Court decided that cultivating such fervor was useful.” “The Court…?” was all Roen managed to ask in her bewilderment. He had answered her bluntly and forthrightly; she did not know where to start. “...ah, that’s right. You would not have heard of them.” the Elezen said, bowing his head with a patient expression, noting her confusion. “According to their claims, the Redeemers trace their bloodlines to the individuals they refer to as the ‘wayward triune’...that is, the three knights excepting Haldrath that survived the first battle with Nidhogg, and chose not to partake in the founding of the High Houses. These three knights grew remorseful of their betrayal of dragonkind, and felt disgust towards their kin for their consumption of the dragon’s eyes, and so the three conspired to purge their fellows and all of their descendents of their ill-gotten power.” The dragoon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “As for how much of that is true, well...it is impossible to say. Were they always privy to the true nature of King Thordan and Ratatoskr, or is this merely a new fabrication made to adapt to the revelations passed forward by Ser Aymeric? Perhaps we may never know. Nevertheless, the wayward triune’s self-proclaimed descendents control the Redeemers, and they call themselves ‘the Court’, styling themselves as marquises and marquis so as to place themselves as above the Counts of Ishgard.” Maximilien leaned backwards. “Of course, they keep their identities safely hidden through a combination of subterfuge, deception, and hideous facial accessories.” Roen blinked. As Ser Valencourt recounted the Redeemers’ history, there was no effort to villainize their origin. The founders were fervently religious and followed the teachings of Saint Reinette, who after killing a dragon in the name of vengeance, shed the cerements of war, dedicating her life to servitude. But as time passed, the Redeemers did not quite follow the same unselfish course. “There was an Inquisitor that...recited a prayer to Saint Reinette,” Roen recalled. “Those same words were also engraved upon the wooden stakes where the murders occurred.” “There is more than one Inquisitor that serves the organization,” the Elezen answered casually. “It is one of their most common ways to recruit. They either falsely accuse people of heresy or comb through those that are arrested. They specifically look for those possessing marked animosity towards the Dravanians, the Holy See, or both. And once driven to a zealous fervor, it is easy to mark the draconic appearances of the Au Ra, as the enemy.” “I see how their campaign against the dragonkind would have been easy to recruit for during the war, but now Ishgard has negotiated for peace.” Roen narrowed her eyes, regarding the Elezen. “Is not their cause all but lost?” Maximillien lowered his gaze, running one hand through his hair. “Their recent activities suggest that the Court is in disarray. Aye, their original goal was to propagate complete destruction of the dragons for the sake of peace. Logically speaking, it is the only option; the Dravanians are immortal and thus hold immortal grudges. Such short-lived spoken as ourselves would ordinarily have no chance of making peace with such hateful creatures. And yet peace has come, so they have turned their efforts to ridding Ishgard of the dragon blood in its heritage and the memories of the Dragonsong War. To remove the responsibility of the war altogether. As long as the history exists in our minds and the blood runs in our veins, forever are we entwined with the dragons.” He cleared his throat. “Or so they believe.” Her eyes widened. “Is that even possible?” The Elezen crossed his arms, lazily leaning back against one of the towering bookshelves. “The Court has accumulated much knowledge over the years. They have stolen tomes from Sharlayan, and obtained some pieces of relics from Allagan ruins from the Second Astral Era, especially when the formation of magic was new. One of the old civilizations they focused on was based on fervent faith and prayer, and as their magic had yet to be refined, they used extremely dangerous mind-altering rituals used to control their followers and secure their absolute faith and obedience. The Court, I believe, plans to replicate one of these rituals to purify and absolve -- that is to remove the influence of any non-Spoken blood, and remove the memory of the Dragonsong War from all.” Roen’s mind spun. There were too many possibilities, but some were beginning to form tenuous threads with each other. “There was an Au Ra that was killed recently," she said. "He possibly had an old relic that was stolen from him…a keystone.” It was a term that Khadai had given the item that they had retrieved. “It is for another old civilization, and they too have the capacity to alter memories. Do you know something of it?” Maximillien glanced elsewhere. “If you believe this ‘keystone’ to be one of the missing pieces they need, that would certainly explain why their zealots have gone suspiciously quiet.” He gave her a sidelong look, his expression grim.”Everything leads me to believe that they are moving forward as fast as possible now.” “What have you done about all this?” Roen stepped forward, frowning deeply. The Elezen threw both his hands in the air. “You may think it callous of me, but I have been investigating the Redeemers for some time now, suspecting them to be heretics. Neither the Inquisition nor the Temple Knights saw fit to indulge me in my claims, and so either the Redeemers have infiltrated both organisations or they are exceedingly skilled at hiding evidence.” “Then why are you telling me all this?” Maximillien exhaled through his nose, then tilted his head, smirking oddly. “You were the first person to ask, Miss Deneith.” He leaned in towards her. “You do not truly believe Ishgardians to care about a few dead foreigners, do you? Especially if those dead foreigners resemble the foes that have waged war against us for a thousand years. And you would not ask me about the Redeemers if you did not already suspect that their existence was reality.” Roen narrowed her eyes at him. “So you are going to help me?” “Alas, Miss Deneith, this is as far as I go.” The Elezen stepped back with a helpless shrug. “My hands are now tied with defending the borders against the remainder of Nidhogg’s brood.” “With all that you know, you will do nothing?” She shot back, incredulous. “With this looming ritual, that could mean who knows what to the rest of your people?” “A twist of irony, no?” The Elezen sighed. “For me to have come so far with this, and yet be unable to see all my efforts come to fruition.” He bowed deeply. “I beseech you to do what you can, Miss Deneith. I have given you much to go on.” He straightened then canted his head. “But there is one more offering I will provide.” Roen crossed her arms, displeasure clear upon her visage. Maximillien only smiled at her in return. “I will tell you where and when you may be able to find one of the Marquis.” It was the sound of a soft whimper and a light pressure upon her right foot that brought Roen out of her reverie. She had ceased in her pacing as she was pondering her previous conversation, and in her stillness had apparently made Sebastian nervous. The puppy had one foot upon her leather boot, the other paw scratching at her shin as he whined for attention. She let out a sigh as she bent down and lifted the creature into her arms. “I need to tell someone. This has to be stopped. But…who do I tell first? Who would believe it?” she sighed. When the puppy licked the tip of her nose with a happy wagging of his tail, she exhaled. “You have no idea, do you? Just like the rest of Ishgard.” It was then that the linkpearl in her pouch vibrated, humming softly. Plucking it into her ear, Roen's eyes widened immediately. “Khadai. You are here in the city?” She nearly sighed in relief. Indeed, he should know. “I will meet you. There is much to discuss.”

Greetings non-robot! Just a few answers to your questions as I too leveled up a couple of alts. Leveling up isn't that bad but it's the MSQ that can kill the drive to keep them up to date. There are no procedures for alts really, you weave the characters into stories however way you like! As for where RP typically happens... Balmung population is huge so you might feel a little lost trying to just find it. Quicksand is a popular place to start for many, as well as some of the RP events that are listed on the calendar in this forum. But if like me, you find yourself a little overwhelmed to go to a crowded place full of strangers (although that can be exciting too!), then I suggest looking around the forums and see who you may want to contact for RP. I have had good success with PMing people I have never met based on their OOC/IC posts and online personality. All in all, definitely-not-robot person, I wish you luck and a lots of fun!

Can I dance under new management? THIS IS TOO CUTE, KUPO! I shall donate kupo nuts! (not kupo butts)

Roen: board rooms and harvest ...I have no idea what that means. Brynnalia: Gasoline and Nebulae I see her in Thelma and Louis! WOO! (she'd totally be the Susan Sarandan character)

I may or may not have liked the intro post. That is all.

/offers back rubs! With exclamation points! I too mostly RP outside of the FCs I am part of for one reason or another, (don't get me wrong, the FC people are fantastic people) because the people I connected with just happened to be through the RPC and not the FC. I think poking your head in here was a great idea and I wish you luck in finding some RP fun! You already have some good advice here already so I just wanted to say welcome!

First, welcome! 1) I think Quicksand is by far and large the most popular and crowded place when it comes to the concentration of RPers. But I have also ran into RP in The Drowning Wench, and occasionally at the Carline Canopy. There is also list of RP events that you can attend to find RPers! http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=20 - listing of RP events here on the RPC http://balmungrpcalendar.tumblr.com/calendar - if you tumblr 2) You can join only one FC, but up to 8 LSs. Most people find an FC of like minded people and also join LSs to increase their network. 3) Making Connections folder is a good start to get yourself out there! An intro there also lets people know who and what you are about and what you might be looking for. Some people also post a profile in the Player Directory and create wiki profiles for their character. It helps people know who you or your characters are. 4) There are also a TON of RPers and FCs that do not advertise here. The Balmung RP community is bigger than the RPC. But I do think that even many of those that don't post in the RPC still know of this place or visit occasionally. I am sure you will get more (and likely better) answers! Good luck!

This was not the Ishgard Roen knew. Roen sat by a small table set upon the porch, her fingers wrapped around the warmth of a steaming cup of tea. Her gaze remained on the young girl dressed in light leather armor practicing with her sword and shield in the courtyard. She noted that Leila’s posture with her weapons had gained a better balance and she now swung with improved dexterity and strength. The noble girl spun and struck around the wooden dummy, and her fierce expression seemed determined in her opponent’s utter defeat. But the paladin’s thoughts did not stay in the courtyard for long. Ever since her return to Ishgard only a few suns past, she had been hit with one surprise after another. She had returned in the cover of night to escape notice, for she still did not know who was looking for either her or Khadai before they had left. But a discreet inquiry with Gibrillont at the Forgotten Knight revealed that since their departure, none had come looking for either of them. It might have had something to do with the battle with Nidhogg at the Steps of Faith and the complete overhaul of the Ishgardian governing body in the recent moons. The fact that the Thousand Year War came to a climactic end while she and Khadai had ventured out to Dravania was something that she was still trying to wrap her head around. In the past year and a half that she had spent in Coerthas acclimating to their rigid and unforgiving culture, never once did it occur to her that such a sweeping change was even possible. It made her nearly nostalgic at the news. The theocracy was no more, replaced by a bicameral government that seemed to give equal voice to both the wealthy and the poor. Most Dravanians were no longer considered enemies of the state, and the zealous hunt for heretics were almost considered obsolete. It seemed that the Church had been removed from its throne of power and the Inquisition had lost its fangs. Or so it seemed. The Church and the Inquisition were the first organizations that Roen approached upon her return, for she believed that the answers she sought were to be discovered there. Instead, the paladin was met with tight-lipped clergy members and more than a few looks of disapproval when she inquired about the activity of a particular Inquisitor over a year ago. None wanted to cooperate with an outsider, Eorzean Alliance be damned. The Inquisition appeared as exclusive a group as ever, and it became obvious that she would gain no assistance in her quest here. Roen also returned to the House of Theron and was grateful that Lord Theron accepted her back into his employ after her prolonged absence. He showed quiet patience, and since she had given him notice before her departure, accepted her return without question. Roen suspected that the man was far too busy with the minutiae of Ishgardian politics that he did not give her situation too much thought. And the fact that both his children favored her... she reasoned that he simply gave them back the tutor that they wanted. It was Astidien that brought her the letter that was sent many moons ago by her former Captain, Idristan Tournes. Roen had not heard the news of his arrest until she read it, and her dismay was quickly replaced by indignation in learning the details of his trial and imprisonment. The Elezen knight-captain had always been a fair and faithful servant to Ishgard, and one of those rare men who did not look upon outsiders with inherent contempt. The facts of his trial were a matter of public record, and it was clear that suspicion was brought upon him for the fact that on the same night that he had allowed an Au Ra to enter Dragonhead, a surprise attack of Dravanians had occurred. It did not matter that Khadai had taken part in defending the keep; the Inquisition still arrested the knight and all the soldiers that served beneath him. Such was the ruthless authority that the Inquisition had been capable of. Roen could not help but relish in a small amount of satisfaction, knowing that they no longer wield such power. But even with much of Ishgard government changed, it still did not change the fact that one member of Khadai’s tribe had still been murdered fairly recently, in what seemed like a ritual killing. And she had first come upon this act over a year ago. If everyone was busy fighting Nidhogg’s brood and repairing what was left of Ishgard, then who were still hunting down the Au Ra? And why? Were there those that even now still clung to the beliefs that the Au Ra shared ancestry with the Dravanians? It was certainly no longer a popular belief. Even hunting down heretics was no longer a commonplace. But was it possible that beliefs and animosity held for generations could not be dismissed so easily and quickly? The paladin sighed. The city-state as a whole was taking steps to remake itself, but the people within, the culture itself, and the long ingrained beliefs, they would be slower to transform. So it was still Ishgard she was dealing with, only without the constant threat of being thrown off of Witchdrop at a mere suspicion of heresy. That alone at least made things a little easier, she mused wryly. The sound of heavy books laid upon the table brought her attention back to the present as an Elezen youth pulled up a chair next to her. It was her pupil, Astidien, the proper one that was supposed to be practicing swordplay. But neither the siblings seemed to mind and neither did the paladin. “Here are the parchment and ink you requested, Miss Deneith.” Astidien scooted a stack of leather bound parchments, quill, and ink her way. His inquisitive eyes peered up at her just long enough for Roen to look at him twice. “If you have a question, ask.” Roen’s voice remained soft, even as she opened up the leather bindings, withdrawing one parchment. “Did Ser Tournes relay anything of import in his letter?” Astidien sat straight in his seat, folding his hands upon his lap. His question was quietly spoken, and Roen knew enough about the gentle boy to know he had more to say on the matter. He had already been helpful in informing her of all that had happened. “I would say everything in the letter was significant, since I knew none of what had passed.” Roen exhaled with a frown. Her gaze strayed to the folded missive that was on the table, partially hidden beneath the tray that held the tea set. “Father was displeased at what happened as well.” Astidien seemed to already perceive her disapproval. When Roen glanced at the youth, he gave her his best beaming smile and leaned forward. “But he is free now and was proven innocent, rightfully so. And our nation has set forth on a new path. Surely that must ease your mind somewhat, Miss Deneith?” Roen curled a small smile; the young Elezen’s optimism would not be denied. She nodded once. “I am happy for what has happened to your city-state. I truly am. There was a man I once knew that would have liked to see something similar happen in his own homeland.” She dismissed the wistful pang, her expression turning stern. “But there are still others being hunted down wrongly, and I aim to put a stop to it.” She dipped the end of the quill into the bottle of ink and started penning her first letter. Astidien scrunched his face thoughtfully before he spoke again. “There are still plenty that do not see the good in what has happened,” he murmured. “My father has many friends, including an honored dragoon. I know Ser Valencourt is unhappy as well.” The paladin paused in her writing, her grey eyes glancing at the Elezen. “I know of whom you speak. How do you know he was unhappy?” The youth shrugged his small shoulders, looking sheepish. “Father thought I was asleep, but sometimes I like to read in the study when the house is quiet. I saw Ser Valencourt visit father late into the evening and leave in a manner that was not of a content man.” Roen chewed her lower lip in thought, then continued on penning the letter. She had to ask more questions, of Ser Tournes and others. She would seek out her allies, those she trusted first. But she had to look farther and deeper this time. Perhaps she needed add a certain dragoon to that list of people to seek out as well.

Welcome to Balmung! I too was on Leviathan when I started this game, but after realizing there was an unofficial RP server, I hopped over and the rest was history. It is definitely fantastic that you also brought a friend with you, having a character family connection is an excellent start. I hope to hear about your character's adventures soon!

Good luck in finding RP on Siren! I am afraid I do not know many there, only Balmung and Gilgamesh. You could also use the RPC board to make connections with RPers on other servers if that interests you. Your characters sound interesting! And as others have said... seriously consider transferring to Balmung! There are plenty of RPers to be found here.

Character Name: Roen Deneith or Brynnalia Callae (I haven't decided who might be more fun to do this with - only one of them, not both!) Wiki link/short description: Roen or Brynn Have you completed the MSQ up until end of 3.4: Yes My character should be anonymous: Anonymous if Roen, Either if Brynn

The room was full of shadows; the single flickering candle allowed only a glimpse of the coiling smoke that wafted through the air. The scent of milkweed stung her nose, but Raelisanne cared not. It was one of many drugs she had become immune to. The man splayed out in front of her had enabled her to do so, so many years ago. Due his current state of impairment, it was obvious the man had not followed his own teachings. Precise measured quantities administered at regular intervals, steadily increasing the dose over a period of time… the process of gaining immunity against mind-altering substances was a mere matter of alchemy. Committing to continuing the small doses over the years would have been a matter of dedication. It was a small price to pay for an assurance of self control. This was something Raelisanne always believed was of utmost import to the man in front of her. But his shallow breathing, glazed eyes, and slowed reflexes all spoke of a man who had surrendered his own fundamental code of self discipline and preservation. To see him brought so low by despair… it displeased her. The man eventually stirred. While Raelisanne made no effort to be silent, she said nothing after entering his tent, and the rest of the inhabitants of the brothel had made themselves scarce. The herb in the metal vase was left to burn, and any passing observer from outside the tent would only spot two silhouettes within, one standing unnaturally still, the other struggling to sit up. “Of course you are here,” the man growled at her, his disgust obvious. “You are in poor shape,” Raelisanne observed as she continued to stare down at the Monestarist noble. “You need assistance.” “Do not presume to know what I need,” the Midlander retorted hoarsely. His lips were chapped and his cheeks sunken in. “Begone from my sight. I do not need you.” The bloodshot eyes belonged to a man who lacked purpose, ambition, and will--all the things that Raelisanne had once admired about him. My, but he was still so stubborn. That brought a small curl to her lips. “You seek to break free from the fetters that weigh your conscience.” She slowly tilted her head, and even in the dimly lit room, she could see the lines of his jaw tighten. “I too was once lost. Deprived of all the things that I thought I needed to be whole. You remember the damaged little girl. That was when you found me. You made possible a whole new life.” Raelisanne lowered herself onto one knee, her violet gaze peering over the rim of her glasses to level with his. “I would like to return the favor.” “Favor for favor…” the Hyur mumbled groggily. His focus waxed and waned; the air was still thick with tainted fumes. Raelisanne watched him struggle to maintain his composure, flashes of emotion contorting his angular features without warning. She wondered if he too was recalling their very first encounter. Did it leave an indelible mark upon his memory as it did hers? But so much had passed between them since. And it was the latter years that he seemed to remember with crystal clarity. He suddenly bared his teeth to her like a threatened animal. “Last time you saved me, I was forced to endure your toxins running through my veins.” “You were nearly dead, I had no choice,” she answered matter-of-factly. “You eventually fought to free yourself from those effects.” Her tone remained neutral, even though her expression brightened slightly. She had been mistaken. He still had some resolve yet. “I never believed you would remain crippled for long. Consider my methods unusual, but they remain effective.” To that the man said nothing, his gaze shifting away from hers. There was bitterness that remained in the downward curl of his face, that fought off the weariness that weighed his entire frame. “You lost what you had built in Ul’dah. Then you lost again your second chance.” Her voice carried no sympathy. “Is that it? Do you have nothing left?” “How childishly simple you make it sound,” he spat out. “Is that how you have framed your life? You lost what you were, and so you made yourself anew? You see that I have lost my toys, so you are going to give me new ones? Or am I to be another one of your experiments? Torn down like Wolfsong? Made a freak of nature like Renatus? Or whatever twisted games you are playing with Grimsong? Deneith? Don’t forget…” he hissed. “I know you and your obsessions.” Raelisanne remained still as a stone statue. Her expression did not flinch, she did not blink, her violet gaze did not waver. But she also had no words for the man. His eyes narrowed at her stillness, but when she continued to stare in silence, he glanced away. “What do you want from me…?” “As I said, to repay what I owe.” Her face did not show it, but there was a sting that lingered with his rebuff. He understood, and yet he did not. She adjusted her spectacles, her gaze shielded by its reflective surfaces. When his eyes returned to her albeit reluctantly, she continued, more coolly than before. “The aid I now offer is of different nature. It will mean the end of your old life. You will no longer have a place here. Not in Ul’dah, nor Coerthas.” “A new life…?” he rasped. He was fighting for consciousness now. The air was thicker. “Away from all this?” “Yes.” Raelisanne nodded. The man’s amber eyes darted to various points throughout the room, and yet to nothing in particular. His dark brows were pulled low, his struggle and doubt screamed loudly in silence. “Marcus,” she said his name softly as she extended her gloved hand. “Do you trust me?” “No.” “But you will come with me?” A long moment passed between them. “I have no choice,” he finally said, his voice cracking, failing on that last word. "No," she quietly agreed. She guided his hand to hers, so that he might grasp it.

Roen furrowed her brow, trying to clear the fog that clouded her memories. “It was over a year ago. The Ishgardian unit I was with was dispatched to deal with dragonkin, but instead we came upon heretics.” Her expression twisted into a deeper frown. “They were slated for execution… when an Inquisitor arrived and took them away. It was upon their departure that I heard that phrase. “Where there is fear, we carry light,” she read the words carved into the wood. “I only remembered it because… at the time, I thought it gave a sense of hope to those that were saved. A new beginning. In a time where I thought there was none.” She shook her head. The paladin glanced back up at Khadai as she rose. “Those phrases seem to carry religious connotations. But now I can link them to an Inquisitor that uttered them. I have been to the Cathedral. I have heard the prayers recited there. This is not a common saying. I have not heard it as part of any official sermon. And yet twice words like these have been present as a part of these gruesome executions. I think it may be a private litany of some sort.” She exhaled. “Perhaps if I can track down that Inquisitor from a year ago or anyone else that may know these words, it would lead to something.” Roen paused, peering intently up at the Au Ra. “You say that your friend was more than a match in combat. I hold you in the same regard.” She stepped up to him, narrowing her eyes sternly. “Do not meet with the same fate as he did. Assume that he was just as careful as you are and still they overtook him somehow. You could be targeted as same as he.” The paladin exhaled. She already knew that he had been exercising plenty of caution, and that he was likely fully aware of the danger upon his life ever since their first discovery. He had proved again and again that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Still, she had to give voice to the sudden sense of apprehension that gripped her heart. “Be careful,” she said softly. Khadai said nothing in return, only giving her a succinct nod. Roen clucked her tongue, bringing Goldwind to her side. Mounting her bird, she regarded the dead Au Ra one last time from her higher vantage point. A thin veil of snow was already starting to collect over the corpse, but it did little to diminish the cruel evidence of his death. It did not feel right leaving him just laying there, but she would respect Khadai’s wishes. He had known the man, after all. With another cluck of her tongue and slight tug of the reins, Goldenwind started into a canter towards Falcon’s Nest. This would be the last Au Ra body she would come across, Roen told herself, if she had anything to say about it.

Roen answered him with a faint smirk. “Well, at least you will not argue with me on it.” Her brief attempt at levity did not last long as her attention returned to the dead Xaela. He seemed youngish, younger than Khadai. She did her best to subdue her own feelings on the matter, for she did not want to add her own fury to Khadai’s loss. But watching him examine the body as he did, she too noticed the broken wrists, the abrasions that bindings left on his legs, and the lack of other wounds upon him. She clenched her teeth, but an indignant exhale still escaped through flared nostrils. How can people be capable of such cruelty…? Her gaze flickered between the alive and the dead Au Ra. By now, she knew better than to expect an outburst of emotions from Khadai, but still she watched him curiously. His voice seemed slightly muted and he handled the younger Xaela with care, despite the fact that it was “merely a shell.” "Do your people not mourn those who have passed on?" An exchange from a year ago flitted through her memory. “We do. You would not think so if you watched us, though." Roen took a long breath in, calming her own expression. “There were words carved into the wooden stake, when we found the first body. The wooden stake here also have another set of words written upon it. They almost sound like a religious hymn. The words here…” She gestured to the stake. “I recognize them. I have heard them before.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Perhaps if I inquired further into it… those in Ishgard would know more. We would have to be careful though, returning to the city. We have been away awhile, but we left with discretion for a reason.” She glanced back down to the body. “What do you think was taken from him?” Her eyes instinctively went to where he had patted his bag. “Was he on the same mission as yours? Do you think he found something as well? And… what you have, is it valuable to anyone else?”