Knight Kat

My first, dedicated effort to become a Roleplayer started here. And it happened. It's been 8 years. FFXIV may be the game, but the RP community, that has always been why I play it. And in the RP community, I have made friendships which will last a lifetime. And my entry to the RP community was HERE. I feel old now, seeing this go. I never really thought the HRPC would go. But here it is, the last day or two? Best wishes to everyone. With love, Knight Kat

Signing up Kiht Jakkya! She needs some gil...

I'd like to sign up as reserve for either of those.

SIGNING KIHT UP FOR THIS.

It's a really short survey. I encourage everyone to take it.

I'd like to sign Qara Hotgo up for event B, Kobolds at the Gate.

Sent a friend request on Discord. Not sure how else to PM you. Name on Discord is Knight Kat. Characters in-game are Kiht Jakkya and Qara Hotgo. I'd like to join the LS and server

Many have already stated that this is a situation where personal experiences differ. Mine certainly differ from the OP's. There are indeed a lot of variables. That said, I have been in the community since January of 2014. I've watched it change, develop and change again. Maybe I can offer some general advice that might apply more broadly to those having a hard time.

Signing up Qara Hotgo for event B!

[align=center][/align] This is an open RP! Enlarge image to see date, time and location details. All transactions are made with IC (fake) gil only, so you can be OOCly poor and still shop. Kiht Jakkya will be present the entire event which will last until 10pm PST unless there is reason to go longer. Nihka Mioni will arrive roughly an hour after opening, and R'shesha Otharn will need to leave at 9pm PST. I do not own the FC, but the leader has generously allowed me to use Kiht's private room for the shop. Any questions? PM me on this site, or send a /tell in-game to Kiht Jakkya or Qara Hotgo.

This is an awesome idea. I'll be trying it out soon. At a glance, it looks like everything someone would need to compose a post.

Thank you Meishali!

[align=center]The Final Verdict[/align] [align=center]Part 2[/align] A Lalafell woman sat in her rustic office with a huge stack of papers on her desk. The commotion of life in Limsa Lominsa - people talking, children playing and seagulls calling created an ambient sound that was muffled through the walls and closed windows. Captain Jujudi Judi pinched the bridge of her nose. She was a bell away from needing to deliver a final verdict on Chakha Hotgo; the girl who killed Jenny Hellfist. It was an odd case. Not only did this barely adult Xaela blow Jenny away with a cannon, she had good evidence that the Leve authorized her to take such action! What a mess. It meant the leve-writer needed to share the punishment, but his case was being handled by another judge. Jujudi regarded the leve plate once again. The over-worked Leve-writer, named Varad Yayrad, made a clear breach of leve code! The plate read as follows: “The privately-owned war galleon Night Plunder has dropped anchor in full view of Costa Del Sol's oceanfront scenery and refuses to move until their demands are met, threatening to harm tourism from the Ul'dahn elite and drive down beachfront property rates. Because war galleons are hard to replace, the Admiralty is looking for problem solvers who can negotiate their movement and/or kill the offenders as necessary.” “Kill the offenders… As necessary? What a mess.” Jujudi let out a sigh. Chakha Hotgo stated that she saw killing Hellfist as necessary, and the fact that evidence supported that she was a Syndicate-hired assassin suggested her employer saw the killing as necessary as well! Ul’dahn elite were being threatened after all. Jujudi looked back to the papers and tapped her fingers on the wood of her desk. Her other hand supported her head by propping it up on her elbow. After reading reviewing all the evidence, Jujudi was ready to deliberate with the other Captains to come to a verdict. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a closed trial. The last thing Maelstrom Command wanted was to reawaken the riots of the recent past with the cause of Jenny Hellfist. In the makeshift courtroom, only the people necessary were present. Jujudi cleared her throat to speak on behalf of all three Storm Captains. “After deliberations, we the Captains who have been given the authority by Maelstrom command to preside over this case, have come to a verdict.” “Evidence is only strong enough to charge Chakha Hotgo of one crime: the murder of Jenny Hellfist. Anything more on her is speculation and hearsay.” “She willingly turned herself in for arrest without being found or forcibly apprehended. She has confessed to her actions, and explained her motives.” “However, her true crime is not what it seems. With authorization in the leve to kill Jenny Hellfist, and the fact that Jenny Hellfist was breaking the law at the time of her death, the killing of the privateer captain was not without precedent. We can only convict her of crimes of misconduct, and punish her for the horrible results that came of such.” “Chakha Hotgo is found guilty of wrongful conduct during an official leve, misinterpretation of the spirit of an official leve, reckless endangerment of innocent lives and undue assault on Limsan privateers and adventurers.” “Her actions resulted in the death of Jenny Hellfist, and the eventual failure of the purpose of that leve. Aye, the Night Plunder was removed from Costa del Sol, but her crew broke from the Maelstrom, and the ship was eventually lost. The purpose of the leve was to preserve that Galleon which our navies desperately needed.” “By authority of the Maelstrom, we sentence Chakha Hotgo to be flogged. She will receive fifty lashes.” “Chakha Hotgo is sentenced to service in the Dutiful Sisters of the Edelweiss until death or until the convent leader deems her unfit for work. She is to be taught Limsa Lominsan laws word for word, and she will be required to memorize them all.” “To ensure she stays within the boundaries of law when she is not with the Dutiful Sisters, from this moment on, Chakha Hotgo will be considered the responsibility of Privateer Captain Qara Hotgo. Meaning, any crimes or misconduct committed by Chakha Hotgo will directly result in consequences for not only herself, but for Privateer Captain Qara Hotgo and the Stormbreaker crew as well.” “Chakha Hotgo will be required to pay half of her earnings every moon to the surviving relatives of Jenny Hellfist. This will continue for as long as she works for the Dutiful Sisters. If we can not find surviving relatives of Jenny Hellfist, by the Twelve we will find -someone- to give that gil to; even if it’s the Maelstrom.” “The stipulations of this sentence are complete, and further details on the various rules and exceptions have been sent to Maelstrom command.” “Till sea swallows all.” Jujudi pounded the gavel on the table then signed her name on the parchment with the exact wording of the convictions and sentence. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nearly twenty and four bells later, Qara Hotgo stood on the beach in the Mists with a wrinkled flyer in her hands. She held it securely to prevent the winds from blowing it away, or tearing it asunder. But her gaze rested on the sunset, ocean horizon. She took in a deep breath then looked down at the flyer. It was a flyer from the Hellfist Foundation. On the day of Morris’s trial, Qara was handed one by a random person. She knew little of their fate, and had not heard anything from them since. But whatever happened to them did not happen soon enough to stop Qara from getting a piece of their last efforts. Now that she knew the name of the person her sister killed, she could not help but think the others might have been silenced as well. Would it not be ironic if she were to take up their cause? She wondered. The freedom of Limsa’s privateers reminded her of the Xaela tribes of Othard. It is why she became one. But she quickly came to know the treachery buried in the heart of many in the city-state. The ugliness she had seen made her want to flee, but that was not why she became what she is. Her training had been for the purpose of fighting the injustice that those with power forced upon the common folk. Running away would not do that. Her gaze returned to the horizon. The sunlight reflected off the blue limbal rings in her eyes, and caused them glow. "I will face it."

Maiming Moogles unite, kupo! Where are they? I call upon you all, kupo! Edit: Never mind, I no longer feel like maiming for some reason, Kupo. I just want to talk, kupo... A lot... Kupo. Edit:Edit: I do not know who I am anymore, kupo.

I woke up today, and suddenly everything was different, kupo. The birds chirped a different chirp, kupo, and the wind made a different sound, kupo. I canceled all my plans then went to gather kupo nuts, but realized I can't find my mouth, kupo. I will hand over all my kupo nuts, kupo. Then I will contemplate my kupo life... Kupo.

[align=center]Final Verdict Part 1[/align] [align=center]Kahkol Tribe refugee camp, Mor Dhona[/align] “I’m starting to see why Xaela tribes fought each other all the time. Words don’t work on some people. They think and uh… Assume, but ignore or miss the truth. Then they do things because of those false things they believe, and end up being on the wrong side.” Qara spoke as she wrestled with the best way to phrase her thoughts. Eorzean common was not her first language, and Xaelic was a very different tongue. She was becoming fluent, but complex ideas were still hard for her to articulate. A silence fell upon her and Tsenkher, her grandmother, as eerie Mor Dhona wind blew outside the makeshift yurt they sat in. Tsenkher continued to idly mix paint in a ceramic bowl as she sat cross-legged on layers of fur and rug matting. “Welcome to politics, Qaratai.” Qara let out a sigh to that. “I wanted to help, but most of the time, I didn’t know what to say. Chakha did some bad things. Things that could hurt entire tribes if we were back home. I had to focus on that. After saving Gloam, nothing else mattered… But we were caught in these politics. We tried to trust someone we shouldn’t have… Zanzan is… He is bad at knowing who to trust.” “Not surprising for a boy who paints green over everything.” Tsenkher drawled. “Yes, but, he also helped with these politics more than anyone else. He fixed as much as he could. He fixed part of what others broke.” Qara responded and tilted her head back. She sat adjacent to her grandmother, and kept her gaze wandering about the inside of the candlelit yurt. She was reflecting and trying to organize jumbled thoughts. What should have been a simple issue after saving Gloam turned into a mess of politics and backstabbing. “Who is this one you trusted? I assume it was the one you sought to find a solution for Chakha?” Tsenkher asked. “An Elezen from the Maelstrom named Ojene.“ Qara answered as her voice lowered. She had quickly developed disdain for the woman. “To be fair, Chakha attacked a member of the Maelstrom? This Jenny Hellfish you spoke of?” “Yes.” “And she did it serving a different tribe?” “Uh, someone from Ul’dah.” “That is like an act of war. Can’t expect the enemy she made to forgive that so easily.” “It wasn’t to make war. Jenny Hellfish was a privateer… Uh, like a mercenary. That’s what I am now too, I guess. Ojene thought I was an officer of Maelstrom, but not true. I had to sign what they call ‘Letter of Marque’. They have this law called Galadion Accord that means privateers have to work for Maelstrom. But I’m not really Maelstrom.” “Sooo, you joined forces with the tribe that your sister wronged?” “No I… Ugh.. You don’t... Yes…” Qara’s voice betrayed resignation with that last word. Tsenkher bobbed her head slowly as she continued to mix more paint. She let out an exhale through her nose as she pondered, or perhaps she was letting Qara’s answer sink in. “I don’t know who this Ojene is, but she’s not the problem. Don’t talk to her again. Don’t let Zanzan talk to her again. You foolishly tried to trust her, and she fairly refused to help. She had a chance to make you as an ally. She refused. Move on.” She paused and finally turned her gaze to Qara; letting the mixing pestle rest in the paint. “Chakha should have run away, but she gave herself to them. Can’t change that either. Move on.“ Tsenkher spoke curtly as she verbally weeded-out the distracting parts of Qara’s political mess to get to the main issue. “They have a right to be angry. Chakha should be punished… But she is my granddaughter, and your sister. For us, accepting her execution is never a fair option.” She sighed as she bit her lower lip and her eyes wandered – a habit that both Qara and her grandmother shared when thinking deeply. “It makes sense that they want her dead. But you have something to offer for a lesser punishment. Time for you to test if their wisdom can out-weigh their anger… You told me of the battle of Gloam; something I never imagined a Hotgo being part of. We are a people of the grass sea, not the saltwater sea… Yet you Captained a ship that dealt the final blow against that metal monster of the skies… A monster that even the big fleet of Maelstrom didn’t want to face.” She reaches to place her hand on Qara’s shoulder. “It was like a legend. Those people were going to be destroyed like the Hotgo, but you and your crew saved them from their ‘Dotharl’. I am so proud of you.” She paused as Qara’s gaze averted to hide the sudden surge of tears that began to well in her eyes. “I do not say this only because I am your emee. I think anyone who does not see what your ship accomplished is blind… Offer that. If the Maelstrom kills your sister, right or wrong, fair or not, there is no way you will stay. They will lose you, your ship and its crew. They will lose a ship that was capable of fighting that sky monster, and stopping it. Tell them you will do the same for them that you did for Gloam if they let your sister live… That is all you can do now.” Qara raised her head despite the tears. Why was she crying? She wondered. But the pride had a sting as it returned. She had lost so much of it after Gloam due to all the law-loving bureaucrats that crawled out of the woodwork to judge what they had not been part of. However, Chakha -was- a criminal. Qara accepted that, but it had been mistaken for ignorance. What Chakha deserved didn’t matter to Qara. Chakha was one of the last Hotgo. “If they let my sister live, I will send her on the right path. I swear to the spirits. She will spend the rest of her life helping me save people.” Redemption mattered, and laws seemed to have no clauses, words or definitions for that.

If recent events have cleared any slots for Styrmm's End, I would like to have Qara attend.

Qara and Zanzan will be joining assault then! I will ask Khunbish to see if he can join. The Stormbreaker will be there!

[align=center]Kiht[/align] [align=center]One Moon before the attack on Baelsar's Wall.[/align] The dawning sun beamed light through the dense canopies of East Shroud. The ambient sounds of nature – birds singing and wind rustling drowned out a distant commotion. Peace was broken by a raptor crashing through brush in her emergence from the flora which hid her. Her feet tore into earth as she sprinted with enough power to create dull thuds with every step. Then another crash, and a second raptor burst from the brush. He was smaller, but no less fast as his graceful stride brought him up to the female raptor’s side. Across a dirt road they dashed as they made for a clearing with nothing but spread-out saplings and very large, hovering vilekin. The massive Kedflies made way, and took to the air to avoid the charging raptors. Birdsongs came to a sudden halt as the feathered creatures flew to the winds from their perches on the saplings. The female raptor let out a screech as she darted to the left; following the road a bit further before blitzing into the clearing. The male raptor had moved to the right, and entered the clearing from its West end. They were encircling something. One songbird let out a curious chirp from where the raptors first emerged. Peace looked to return to the area again. Suddenly, another burst from the brush alarmed them into flight again. A Keeper with long, braided, black hair ran toward the same clearing the raptors ran with a spear in hand. Her breathing was fast and heavy as she dashed with a similar tenacity. In the clearing, a Garlean steel sword gleamed in the sunlight as it was held high as if to be used for the impending fight. The red and black pot helm shadowed the face of the soldier as he stood at the ready. From his left, the male raptor leaped into just beyond arm's reach, and sprayed a plume of fire at the soldier. The female raptor arrived at the opposite side, and hissed a spray of acidic venom at the soldier caught aflame. Both raptors jumped back to avoid retaliation then let out screeches at the burning Garlean soldier made of straw… Supported by a stake, the straw dummy continued to hold up his sword in defiance. The pot helm began to catch fire more slowly than the rest of him, but under it was the grim, faceless, straw head that would not give the raptors the satisfaction of fear. A javelin ended his last stand; flying into his head as if propelled by the wind. The stake gave out, and the burning dummy fell. The Keeper woman paced up to the burning dummy, drew a gourd-shaped bottle from her satchel pack and cracked the glass with a hunting knife. Fire turned to smoke and steam as she threw the bottle onto the burning dummy. The blue-colored contents caused a blizzard-like burst once the bottle shattered. The fire was extinguished. Kiht glanced to each of the raptors as they approached her. Suddenly her hand wrapped around the snout of the male raptor, and her other hand flicked his ear. “Fire after venom, Dirk” she spoke firmly. The raptor whimpered, and she soon let go. Her gaze found the female raptor. “And you had a head-start, why did he get a chance to attack before you, Estoc?” She asked, but the Raptor simply canted her head in response. Kiht sighed, but grew a smirk. “You both did well, but no treats until we get this right. Haru finds the target, Estoc sprays them with her venom, and Dirk sets them on fire. I move in for the kill.” The raptors didn’t understand what she was saying. They only knew they were in trouble. But they were quickly distracted by a Lalafell-sized beetle trying to climb a sapling that could not hold its weight. “I am talking at the animals again.” Kiht muttered as she pulled off her gloves, and approached to place her bare hands on their fine-scaled skin. Moons of training had made them tame to her touch, and she closed her eyes as one hand rested on each raptor. “You can not understand my words, but you can understand my spirit…” She muttered softly.

Kiht: Goose down and compassion... I don't know what either of those smell like, but I still think it's due to her having eaten a goose with pineapple for desert. Qara: Moss and money. The scent of a privateer's life is already on her it seems.

I'm interested in Into the Fire for Kiht. However, at this time I can not say for certain if I will be available this Saturday. Perhaps tentative status with those who are certain they can make it given slot priority? Or I can just be put on reserve? Or I can just flop here, and sign up once I know for certain...

Qara for It's Probably Profiteering! I'd like the opportunity to show off her diplomatic power. I think many would be surprised. And if a fight happens to start, she's not bad at that either!

[align=center]Tefh[/align] [align=center]Near present day.[/align] The apple crunched as teeth bit into it. The deep, enticing red of the fruit was almost as flavorful to the eyes as it was for the mouth. An easy Twelveswood breeze blew through Tefh’s hair as she stood perched on a tree branch. The girl closed her eyes, and took in a breath of the fresh air. Leaf-litter crunched, and her ears flicked to turn towards the noise. She opened her eyes, and gazed down upon an older Hyur man. He was silent as he stared up at the Miqo’te in the tree. “’Ello.” Tefh greeted the farmer with a smile despite holding one of his grove’s apples. The man tipped his field hat with his thumb and finger. “That wasn’ ready for harvestin’.” He spoke in a relaxed tone. “Tastes ready.” The Keeper replied with a smirk and shrug. The man nodded slowly “what’s your name, miss?” “I ain’t a miss. I’m Tefh.” She answered simply before her teeth dug into the apple once more. Their exchange paused as nearby birds interjected with songs and calls. A giant flower turned on its stem to hiss at one of the birds that got too close. Tefh and the farmer’s gazes remained on each other. “Well… Glad you like my apples.” The farmer broke the silence. “They’re my livelihood, after all.” His face was a stoic mask, but his tone was soft and casual. As Tefh chewed down her meal, she looked at the man with her green, Keeper orbs. There was a wariness about her – a mistrust that could be seen in her stare. With a hop, she let herself fall down from the branch, and landed in front of the man. The fifteen fulm drop did not seem to bother her. She pulled a ten-gil coin from her shirt, and offered it to the man. He shook his head. “Keep it. But you coul’ buy from my stall next time. It’d be much appreciated.” Tefh canted her head, but slipped the gil back in her shirt. Her face betrayed her confusion, and her ears lowered. “You grow good trees.” She spoke in an awkward tone. Her voice no longer bore the apathy it had moments before. She turned and briskly dashed away before the man could repond.

[align=center]Small island near Vylbrand.[/align] Sand gave off a quiet crunching sound as a boot pressed into it. Several more foot-falls followed as two armored figures paced along the beach of a tiny island near Vylbrand. The beach was relatively deserted with nothing but debris laying on the sand. The ocean waves gently lapped on the shore to their right as a steep mountainside rose to their left – presenting them with a solid wall of rock. Qara Hotgo’s dark blue armor created a dark silhouette under the light of the setting sun while Maric Thornharte’s bright silver armor of the same high-mythrite design still had enough light to gleam. Not far ahead of the duo were a band of Xaela reluctantly leading them toward a shoddy encampment. Their garb was tattered, and their forms lacked the typical male Xeala musculature. They were malnourished. The group lead Maric and Qara right up to a Xaela man in chainmail that sat on a rock with a Xaela woman in his lap. For such an affectionate position, the Xaela woman did not look happy. Her head was bowed, and her gaze directed at the sand. However, the man raised his head and smirked at the two guests. His chainmail was better than what the others had, but it too was tattered and rusted. Maric walked directly to the couple with a smile. His pure, white teeth gleamed as much as his armor. Even his slicked-back blonde hair seemed to glow a bit in the sun. "And you must be the Khan, miss...?" He asked; his question clearly directed at the girl. The Xaela woman was young. She grew utterly surprised by Maric. Her head was locked in place as she seemed afraid to see the reaction of the man she was sitting on. The "Khan" himself just raised a brow. "What have you rock-heads brought me? A Hyur with bad vision, and a woman in armor? They do not look like captives." Qara bowed in Othard style. "Qaratai Hotgo. I'm a warrior. This is Maric the Thornharte Horncutter. He just likes girls." She spoke softly. The “Khan” placed an elbow on his leg, and rested his head on his fist. "I am Ghanar Khan. This is a new tribe of my making. Many of us come from the Haragin. What, Qaratai of the Hotgo and Maric the Thornharte Horncutter, have you come to me about?" "We would like to negotiate the end of your violent raiding of the countryside, and offer you the alternative of a far more prosperous and more comfortable existence serving at our side as resident vigilantes.” Maric declared. "The nation of Limsa Lominsa has a better way for those like you. Long ago, the big green ones called Roegadyn lived like us, but now have a way that is better for everyone. I want your tribe to join me. Become privateers, fight worthy enemies and get paid gil, food and anything you can steal from enemies. You will get what you need to make a ship too. A large sea boat. And you get all this for respecting only some laws." Qara clarified – her voice raising so the whole ‘tribe’ could hear. "Basically, help the locals instead of fighting them, and they'll reward you with loot and more fulfilling enemies to fight. Overall, not a bad deal, wouldn't you agree?" Maric added with a hint of confident sincerity. Ghanar shook his head. "We follow no laws. Let those who wish to stop us try." He spoke as he pet the girl on his lap. The whole of the Xaela group were watching and listening now. Maric rolled his head. "And try they will. Lominsa has ships, fleets, and many, many soldiers that she'll send to crush you once she figures out what you're doing..." He lifted his hand to his eyes, and gazed out at the ocean. "That's where they'll set up broadsides...then they'll start raining cannon fire down on you... I think you'd rather not be blown up." He shrugged. "Besides, this is a bit boring, don't you think? Sitting on the beach, picking on farmers? It makes you soft, that's why your guards were subdued so easily.” “Your tribe follows -your- laws. You follow laws too. You can't sail the sea like Haragin from long ago because you have no ship. You can't attack settlements because the soldiers are too much for your small warband. You can't afford everything you want, and you have nothing to stop the rain from hitting your head. You are stuck with laws of weakness." Qara responded with a hint of sternness in her voice. Ghanar listened to each of them while being oddly attentive. He lightly pushed the girl off his lap then stood. "I will bring my tribe all that in time. They will get stronger, and we will survive." He looked around to all the others in the camp. "Do not listen to this Hyur and a woman. They were sent to scare us into submission! But we will not submit!" He shouted into the crowd; his once-calm voice now booming. The Xaela around them started muttering to each other in discussion. Ghanar began to look displeased as his declaration was met with uncertainty. One man stepped out from the crowd. "Why offer us this? What do you get in return?" He asked Maric and Qara. Qara took a step forward. “I want to lead you. That ship I talked about, I need a crew for it. Xaela who aren’t afraid of the ocean.” More muttering discussion erupted from the group, but Ghanar paced over to the Xaela who spoke out, and threw a punch into his face that knocked the man into the sand. He growled as he turned to Qara. "We aren't from tribes lead by women. I will not step down as leader. I -can not-. You know this." "You could just be a leader who has another leader..." Maric offered helpfully; pacing over to the displaced lap girl to give her a reassuring smile. The girl actually cracked a slight smile to Maric despite the fact that she looked like she was trying to stay unnoticed. Ghanar shook his head. "Go away. I will let you both live. You are no threat to me. They will not be led by a Hyur or a woman." He headed back for his rock, but Qara stepped up further. "I challenge you then. If you think I'm too weak as a woman, prove it." "About bloody time..." Maric muttered. He then quickly smiled again, and glanced back to the girl. "Your name, Miss?" The girl met his gaze. "Nergui Ejinn." She spoke quietly. Ghanar picked up his spear then gave it a twirl. "You do this, I kill you. This isn't a game, Hotgo woman." His voice took a grim tone. Qara simply nodded once then turned to pace for a clearing. Ghanar stood opposite of Qara, and held his spear in one hand. The plundered chainmail was his only real armor, but like any male Xaela, he was an imposing figure. "You've forgotten your homeland, Hotgo. I was a warrior back home." He shifted his stance into battle-ready with spear out, and haft held in both hands. Qara slid a mythrite zweihander off of the holster on her back. The helmet held under her arm was set and secured on her head before she pulled the visor down over her blue-ringed, red eyes. "I know what you are. I'm sorry, but I have to cut off your hands. It's the only way to make sure you live, but can't be leader." "You could just cut off one," Maric offered helpfully. "Or a foot..." Ghanar roared and charged for Qara. Several strides from his starting position, he lunged; throwing his weight into a long thrust, but she angled her body so the spear glanced off her armor. She twirled and chopped in one fluid motion. His spear was severed then she shoulder-bashed into him. He staggered back, but stayed on his feet. With a grunt, he drew an old cutlass from his belt. Seeing that Qara could actually fight made the group begin cheering. But it was unclear for whom they cheered in the noise of meshing words, and voices all raising at once. "Good. Good!" Maric clapped his hands. "Use your aggressive feelings girl! Let the hate flow through you!" He chuckled as he placed a reassuring hand on Nergui's shoulder. "She's my prize pupil." Ghanar and Qara began to furiously trade blows on each other's blades. A slash for her head missed as she ducked, but he followed with a slash downward that sliced against the armor on her arm. Sparks flew as she sent a reprisal slash across his midsection that rang as it slid along rusty chain. They squared off again then began pacing in a circle. Ghanar suddenly growled. "Enough!" He reached to draw something from his lower back with his free hand. Qara had seen what it was already. She let out an exhale, and focused. Red, scale-pattern aura began to form around her before Ghanar got the weapons aimed aimed - an old one-shot pistol. He fired. Reddish light flared at she was hit. A loud ring from the impact on her breastplate echoed along the beach. Qara was knocked onto her back. Maric squinted, but some in the group roared while others gasped. The Hyur called out to Qara; clearly not to concerned. "You have a bad track record with guns, you know." He tssked. Ghanar gave Maric a perplexed look. "She's dea-" he began to speak, but Qara leaped back up onto her feet by throwing her legs up and forward. One palm opened as she held her hand toward her foe, and a purple hex formed in front of it. "Yes, I know..." She spoke in mild irritation as she fired a trio of aether bolts. Ghanar was struck three times, and staggered enough to drop his empty gun. Qara swiftly stepped forward and sliced away his hand that held the cutlass. Ghanar yelled and threw a hammer-fist punch down at Qara. Her left arm is brought up in time to brace the blow as she raised her sword under his wrist and sliced in a quick, curt motion. His other hand is removed. He staggered further before falling into a kneel with bloody nubs where his hands used to be pulled in towards his midsection. Qara turned to the group. "Ghanar Khan is no longer a Khan. He can't be your leader with no hands." She panted to catch her breath. "This power I have is from learning... Learning the ways of people like Maric and others. One thing I will change for you is the rank of Khan. It is gone now. I'm Qaratai, your Captain... If you accept me." Lost in the heat of the moment, some of the group cheered while others muttered back and forth. They all had a choice to make: fall back on one of their own, or follow this new Xaela who offered them a new life. Maric stepped over toward Qara. "...I like that last part, about having them learn my ways. Should I consider these Xaela a fresh batch of squires?" Qara smiled lightly even as she continued to catch her breath. She opened a container on her belt, and painted a blue line under her right eye. "Someone help Ghanar before he bleeds all the way... None of you have to die." She called to the group before looking to Maric. "Maybe... But more like someone to help teach them things about Eorzea." The Hyur hummed and snatched the paints up off her belt. "I'm proud. I should reward you. Do you have any requests, since I know you don't like back-rubs?” "Help me keep my promise to them. They are Haragin. They belong on the water. They need armor, weapons, a place to stay and food for now. When the ship is made, they can start earning everything themselves." She responded. Maric turned the paint container over in his hands, and glanced over to Ghanar. "That man had respect, and promise. He had bad habits, but he genuinely cared about honor and his people. And he was strong too. He could have served brilliantly... Now, he can never be anything. He will live his life remembering this moment with sorrow; realizing that it was here and now that he lost any control of his life, and any hope for his own future... If he chooses to continue living at all..." He paused. "It's a shame that such cruelty is sometimes necessary." He popped open the container, and painted a strip of black under his eye. Qara frowned and lowered her head. Maric’s tone had not been a scolding one; he merely wanted to teach her about the implications of her actions. Had there been a better way? Did she accomplish the most noble results with her choices? Even after such commitment to her course, she did not know the answers. She responded with silence.

[align=center]The Heart of a Fox[/align] The hustle and bustle of the Sapphire Avenue Exchange always created an uncomfortable place for Kiht. People were packed together like a herd of sheep – all looking for their own place to graze. The Moon-Keeper carefully made her way through the crowd. She avoided tripping on the Lalafells, being knocked over the Roegadyns and being bumped into by distracted Hyur. If Aya wasn’t at the Quicksand then another common place for her to be was the markets. To Kiht, it had always felt like she lived in a different world from Aya. She was beginning to understand why. People were pushing through each other to buy things as if they were starving, yet many were simply buying trinkets. Kiht’s expression betrayed an irritable mood. She moved through the crowd as if it were a nuisance. Her mood quickly changed as she found who she was looking for. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aya Foxheart is involved in the final stages of a conversation with a trader, in her usual energetic and cheerful manner. “It’s a good thing I didn't wear my usual around-Thanalan outfit!” Kiht Jakkya grows a smile as she paces towards Aya. "Buying uh." She glances to the wares. "Wilderness stuff? Aya? ....Or tools?" She glances to the Marchant. "Or whatever the Hells this person sells." The highlander looks surprised turning her head before her wide-eyed gaze settles on Kiht, "Aaaah! Well look who it is!" She grins, stepping away from the momentarily confused merchant. "Just a little bit of everything I think!" She laughs. "You are buying a little bit of everything, or they sell that?" The Keeper asks with a slight smirk. Aya pulls her lips to the side in an amused smirk, "Both, maybe. Pens and ink; a couple of plant pots!" "I can only assume you are writing about plants then.... Botany?" She cants her head a bit. "Hobbies are good I suppose." She teases. "How -are- you?" She laughs, reaching her hand out to Kiht's shoulder. "It’s been -so- long." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The two found a place to sit after exchanging brief formalities. The Markets were still crowded, but stone benches were set in the shade of alcoves built into the walls. The masses of people gave the benches a wide berth as if the idea of sitting was taboo. Shade, space and quiet was a relief. Kiht considered Aya a friend, but she wasn’t one she worked with much, so they did not see each other often. The Huntress was always distracted, and this resulted in infrequent casual visits. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So much happens to me and around me I find it hard to imagine a peaceful living." She pauses. "Then again, I learned that I seek trouble. I have a hard time living without it..." Kiht admits. "Life offers plenty of its own excitements without requiring danger〜" Aya responds. The hunter snickers. "Does it? I have not found such." She pauses. "And that is what I mean when I said we oft do not think alike." "Or that you just don't look in the right places!" "I was raised in a forest full of danger. Mayhaps I just find things that many find exciting to be mundane." "Or, perhaps, it’s the other way around." "That what I find exciting is mundane?" She lets out a chuckle. "Aya, clearly you see it is a matter of one's own mind then." "I never suggested otherwise! Only that I'm sure you'd find a diversion you enjoyed if you looked hard enough." "What makes you think I have not looked hard enough?" "That you haven't found one!" Kiht slowly shakes her head. "Failure to find something exciting that does not have danger does not mean there is something I am missing. Unless you have ideas you wish to share?" "The alternative is so thoroughly depressing as to not warrant consideration." "Why is it depressing?" She asks as she leans over a bit. "That you shall either fall to one of your violent escapades, or to existential ennui when you are fortunate enough to no longer engage in them." Kiht sits up straight again. "Mayhaps that will change when I am old. Mayhaps I will fall before then, and not have to worry about it. The truth does not depress me. Apologies if it does you." "What, shouldn't I wish for my friends to be happy? The Keeper sighs. "I am happy, Aya. You can not imagine being so in my shoes, and that is again why we do not think alike. Do I wish there were some threats I did not need to face? Indeed, but they are there, and I will not flee from them." Aya shrugs with resignation. The Miqo’te sighs lightly once more, and averts her gaze. "I have always been like this. I did not intend for this conversation to go here. Apologies." The highlander woman slowly shakes her head, "Of course you have been. You've also never been happy as far as I've seen, and I know you'll never find it in violence whatever you tell yourself. You throw yourself out there for friends, or whatever cause you have found to embrace in a search, I suspect, for lasting satisfaction." She presses her lips together firmly for a moment, "But it’s alright, Kiht. I just have high hopes." Kiht bites her lower lip at that as she furrows her brows, but not in anger. Her expression is pensive. She is quiet for a long moment. "I can not deny that you may be right." She says quietly. "But without a cause, without allies that need me, without something to fight or hunt, I know not what to do with myself." "I hope you'll find it. Somewhere. In the meantime, I'm here to help you, whatever your cause. Because that's what dear friends are for, isn't that right?" She smiles softly and slips a hand into a belt-pouch, offering an opened bag of jelly candies toward Kiht. Kiht glances to Aya at the sound of a bag opening. Her eyes fix on the bag of candies, and she can't help but crack a slight smile. She reaches into the bag to draw out some candies; taking a moment to study them. "They make funny things to eat in the cities." She snickers. "You are kind, Aya, gratitude." "Most things made in the city are pretty funny." She laughs softly, "But sometimes a little candy brightens the day. They're part of the Starlight Season, too." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Often agreeing to disagree was the best Kiht could accomplish with Aya. It did not hinder friendship, but both were stubborn in their own ways. Foxes are adaptable, elusive creatures that live by taking advantage of opportunities, and taking minimal risks. Kiht’s life; however, had always been this constant fight against the wind. She feared complacency, and had to keep ‘flying’ from cause to cause. Without the hunt, she was afraid. But in a world of never-ending problems, it meant Kiht might never truly find peace. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Do you remember aught of where you were born, Aya?" Aya lets out a deep breath, though her smile remains. "That's a good question. I can still see bits and pieces of our home. More of a castle, really. And I recall the spires of the city of Ala Mhigo from the road, but to be honest I do know not if that's memory, or just a picture I have seen." She smiles, "mostly what I remember is the smell. The scent of burning wood, pine needles, and the sounds of a feast.” “I think it’s all been harder on father than anyone. Osvald and I were young enough that I don't think we even know enough to miss it." "As someone oft paranoid about the protection of my home, I can imagine his pain. " Kiht responds. "It is hard to say if I would try to lead those twenty cycles my junior to take it back.” Aya's expression fades somewhat, "I fear he's in no condition for that sort of thing any more. My brother Kale, though... I fear he just may do something so foolish. He has a young family of his own to tend to now, but that's always been his dream. His place, were you to ask him." “Father was more than a soldier. He had a tradition, a family, a bloodline to protect. That's why, in the end, he chose us over a glorious death as honor demanded." She swaps her legs over, looking out toward the opposite wall in a mostly undisguised look of disapproval, "He's older than Osvald and I and he does remember. And he was raised from birth knowing that he would succeed father, and that the family legacy would become his." "I think if you asked him, he'd rather father have died nobly, regardless of what happened to us. He thinks of nothing but our 'place'.” She sighs and turns her eyes quickly back toward Kiht, "Don't get me wrong… He's a good man, a wonderful brother who did everything he could for us when we were children. He's a terrific father, and has been successful in Ishgard. But he cannot leave Ala Mhigo alone, he's never been able to move on. And with the gates now open... I do fear for the worst." "I prefer to live in the world we inhabit, rather than in the one we wish we did. Father made the tough decision, and the right one. I know he doesn't regret it, though I don't know how he bears everything he's been through. What about you? Would you risk everything to try to make the world like it was when you were a child?" Kiht grows pensive; her gaze averting to bring her thoughts into mind. "Were you to ask me over a cycle ago, I would have said yes. But that has changed. I look to the future now." She pauses. "But Aya, the world we inhabit still has war with the Garleans. For the Twelveswood, they are still an ever-present threat. So my answer to your question is nay, but I still find myself doing what I would have done even back then." Aya nods, smiling softly, "and, regardless, you do not have two young children and a wife to think about." She swaps her legs again, scooching a bit on the bench as she seems to get comfortable again. "I don't suppose you know I've just been to Gyr Abania, myself?" The Keeper’s eyes widen a bit. "Nay, I did not. How? When did you do this? What did you see?" She asks the questions a bit quickly in surprise. Her posture tenses. "You won't believe it." Aya lets out a laugh, "Well, it was just for the pictures. I'd had a few people ask if I could make one for Ala Mhigo as I had for Ishgard and so on... They raised some funds, and we took a small group and snuck through the frontier and into the foothills." "And right by one of their massive walls I assume. Holy shite, Aya... You did that for some pictures? And I am the one who needs to do less dangerous things?!" She speaks with mild exasperation, but bites back a smirk. "Just... Swiving snuck in there. I will remember this, and if you ever call me crazy one sun, remind you of this." She teases. "The Garleans aren't half as clever as they think, it’s an incredible frontier. With a couple of bateaus, and some local know-how, you find a way by! Of course, we were literally out in the middle of nowhere." She lets out a laugh, "Oh I think I'm a little crazy... Maybe more than a little!" Kiht leans back. "I do not suppose you would be willing to part with this information? This secret way in." "I don't think you could get -anywhere- without running into Garleans, but if you just want to see the landscape, of course." "Indeed, but getting that far without them knowing is still impressive... And potentially important." "I'd be surprised if you don't already know of some woodsmen who could show you the back-water ways about. Garleans are so accustomed to traveling by air and sea, but I think they overlook travel by small boat through the wetlands." Aya leans toward her, her voice softening as if sharing a secret, "That's what happens when you rely solely on soldiers, engineers, and politicians. Few are as clever as hunters and woodsmen, hmmm?" "Indeed, and it is hard to wall off the wetlands. I will ask around. If anyone is doing that, they are not talking about it much. Mayhaps as to not rouse the Adders. Gratitude, Aya." "I'm guessing this isn't idle chit-chat. Ala Mhigans, hmm?" She cants her head, peering a bit. "The next cause?" The huntress exhales then nods curtly. "But I would be lying if I said it was for them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Garleans encroach from the East, so at least helping those that wish to fight there will help the Shroud. If they were to actually accomplish the take back of their home, mine would be safer." Aya tilts her head to the side, "I cannot blame you. The Garleans are a threat, its simple truth. Even I can see that... Is there anything I can help you with?" "You already have. To tell you true, I was merely wishing to see how you felt about it. I had not thought to ask. I am somewhat surprised." She lets out an exhale. "Information can help, but even simple things like food for the refugees helps. After all, many who join the resistance come from the refugee camps." Aya nods, "of course... I've visited a few recently as well, as part of the same effort... I suppose I'm giving back a little bit." She shrugs again, it’s clearly an issue she's grappled with, "My feelings on the resistance are mixed. I think many people would be better off worrying about adapting to their new lives, rather than expending all their energy trying to reclaim what they lost. But with all of the violence in the world, and the threat to Eorzea the Garleans pose, I cannot fault their efforts. And I gladly offer them my encouragement when able." "Then you are helping already." She glances to the markets. "Mayhaps our views do not differ on it as much as I thought.” She sighs softly. "I should have visited you sooner, Aya. Apologies for being away so long." "It’s on both our shoulders, mon amie, but we shouldn't have gone so long, I have to agree." She grins brightly, sneaking a candy before offering another to Kiht. "I hope you're taking the time to enjoy some of the amenities of city-life while you're here. Like a hot bath?" Kiht grows her mild smile once again as she takes the candy. She then sniffs herself. "...Springs and rivers do not quite remove the scent of nature it seems." She lets out a short chuckle. "That sounds like something I should do, indeed."