Askier

Just looking for update on commision

Hello. -waves- For those of you who don't know me, I used to run big rp events awhile ago. -checks Calendar- Wow... okay so FOUR YEARS AGO I used to run big rp events... I'm feeling old suddenly. lol I'm posting this because I'm currently I'm in the process of setting up another event and was curious to see if there was much community interest in the general concept before I posted the fleshed out details in the Event sub-forum. This event will be a continuation of an event series entitled, 'In the shadows of Death's Wings'. To sum up first arc, an evil cult out to resurrect dragon thinking it's Nald'thal was stopped by bands of adventurers after some of the cult's super assassins called Crows went rogue. Links to threads are below if you desire more details. So, plot behind this new RP Arc is that the Cult's new leader, recently freed from a Garlean prison, has returned and plans to rebuild her cult with the few remaining members of her flock and fulfill their destiny. Current plans (though i know rp plans always change) is a three phase plot of undetermined length phases. Phase 1 Will be the Cult rebuilding. Phase 2 Will be Cult seeking revenge (can be mixed with phase 1) Phase 3 will be a five event series that will wrap up everything in a nice climax At this point, I'm simply looking for anyone who might be interested in: 1) In helping me run the event. I would need people to act as 'leaders' for both the heroes as well as the Crows. 2) Wanting to oppose the cult in some way. 3) Be a member of the cult or even creating a Crow (one of the Cult's otherworldly murder machines, though be aware are some restrictions should you wish to create one) 3) Just npcing sometime. You don't have to fully commit or anything at this time. This is simply to gauge public interest. I'll be making a tumblr and a discord to help organize things as well as posting here. Please feel to ask any questions and thanks for reading. Have a great day! OOC Thread http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=8167&highlight=crows IC THREAD http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=7953&highlight=crows

The longboat cut through the turbulent seas as quickly as her rowers could drive her. The bitter North Sea was in a foul mood and the white caps were battering the vessel's haul relentlessly. Stinging cold spray was drenching the crew of three as they strained against the oars in an effort to reach the rocky north shore of Coerthas and relief from the tossing tide. Behind them, the 'Median’s Kiss' sat anchored for the time being. The largest of the three rowers; a large, stout Highland woman looked up from her task for a moment to inspect the anchored sloop. Thus far, the ship’s captain was staying true to his word and the sails remain wrapped tight about the masts. The highlander had no desire to be marooned on the forsaken strand of shore with nightfall coming on, and her muscles strained harder. "Lady Echo," came a serpentine voice that seemed as if it might mix with a hiss at any moment. The woman turned to her companion. Beneath a drenched cloak and hood was a lanky looking miqo'te that seemed half-dead. Grey flesh clung to his bones like wet burlap as beige hair, ripe with mange, fell about his tattooed face. Indeed the only hues other than grey on his person was his hair and the black that tattooed the left half of his face. "Sssomeone ssstandsss to greet usss." The woman gazed past Yurt's fettered countenance and swept her eyes over the shore. Indeed, as spoken, a single figure was now standing upon the rock beach. "Perhaps it's our blond friend." the highlander said. A wall of water splashed over the bow and struck her, taking her breath away as the bitter cold sunk into her clothes and washed over her skin. "No." hissed Yurt in a voice smooth as silk as he turned a wide-eyed stare over his shoulder while he continued to row. "Sssmellssss different." "We’ll have our answer soon enough." the woman answered as she pulled on the oars again, unphased by her companions incredible sense of smell or his relaxed countenance that seemed regardless of the bitter chill. Despite the misery and pain of the cold, Anya Marlow relished this moment, just as she had relished every moment since her release from her Garlean prison just a few weeks ago. After nearly five years locked away in Gyr Abania, any sensation that wasn't sitting in a cell was divine and she praised Nald'thal almost hourly for his mercy in seeing her freed. Though in five years, things had changed. And she could no longer hear the Voice, the leader of her church. This was of concern because it meant one of two outcomes: the Voice had severed his connection with her and she no longer bore the honor of being his heir, or more seriously, the Voice had perished. She had languished in silence for so long. Until the Liberation had come and she'd become a free woman once again. To the people of the new Gyr Abania, she'd been a simple political prisoner arrested for being devout to Nald'thal. While true, it was only half the truth. The longboat jolted as it beached itself upon the rocky shore and came to a quick stop, bringing Anya back to the present. Yurt rose to his feet, his spine hunched dramatically beneath his cloak. Beside him Cathedral,composed and refined as always, rose daintily to her short height and pulled her hood over her delicate, narrow features as she gave Anya a small bow of her tattooed head. Cathedral turned as she and Yurt stepped from the boat with an otherworldly ease. Anya followed their lead and disembarked the tiny vessel as she stared at their welcoming party. The lone man dressed in worn robes was prostrate on his knees before her, mumbling excitedly. "Praise Nald’thal! For so long we've waited for the Echo's return to claim the mantle of Voice. Many doubted, but not I, never I! I knew our god is kind and would restore you to us one day, here, as appointed." Anya felt sadness and relief. The death of the Voice meant she'd not lost her god's favor but his death was finally concreted and that drew a sadness to her heart. The Voice had been a great teacher and friend and she'd miss his wise council. "Arise, faithful one."Anya said, stepping forward and kneeling to help the old man to his feet. The elderly fellow was easily in his sixties and looked as if he'd been years without a proper meal. He wore the battered robe of an acolyte of her cult and his left hand was clutching a tome of Nald'thal's teachings. A true devotee indeed "My Lady Voice," the man exclaimed,trembling from cold and excitement as she aided him to his feet. "You honor me! I...I am without words to-" "It is I who am honored."Anya spoke in a reassuring tone. "You have waited my arrival for..." "Four years, my lady!" the man explained. Anya blinked. Four years. What had become of her cult in that time? "Four years..." she repeated quietly. "Faithful please, tell me what happened." "Not here, my Lady." the man shook his head. "Come, come to the 'Last Assembly' and let us greet you!" The Last Assembly Anya thought bitterly. Then it's worse than I possibly feared. Not just the Voice, but the whole church has been brought low! The Last Assembly was only to beheld in the darkest of times.... Anya let herself be led up a small path between a field of boulders. As they entered the maze of gaps between the stones, her two Crows slipped away, undoubtedly to watch for signs of ambush. "How did you know today I’d arrive?" Anya asked. "The seerer informed us of your recent freedom." the man spoke. He moved with a speed Anya would not have thought him capable of. "The seerer?" Anya raised a raven-black eyebrow. "Indeed, he came to us a few days ago. He's waiting for you at the Assembly to fill you in." "The blond cat?" Anya asked, feeling uneasy. The mysterious, blond stranger named after a box of all things had come to aid her and give her both gil and a ship to travel here. He hadn't said why he was helping, but he was an open non-believer and that meant there was some personal gain in helping her. "Indeed!" the man nodded. "You know of him? He's a strange fellow, but promises aid in rebuilding the church-" "What happened to the church?" Anya inquired earnestly. The man turned and blinked. "You do not know?" "I was...imprisoned and cut off from Nald'thal and the Voice." Anya confessed. The man paused and gave the stones at his feet deep consideration. "It was nearly destroyed by non-believers." the man explained after several quiet moments. "A test of faith. The seerer requested he be the one to inform you, but know your return is just proof that our god is kind." Anya studied the devout man and nodded. "Faithful servant of Nald'thal,what is your name?" "Me?" the old man blinked in surprised. "It's, it's Tobin my Lady. I was in Coerthas preaching when the hunters came for us. I fled here and was spared their wroth. I came here as instructed by our ancient doctrine to wait your arrival to rebuild our order. It was so hard, but I held the faith." A pride shone in Tobin's grey eyes and Anya gave a small smile. "Is there still a Herald ofNald'Thal?" she asked. The old man shook his balding head. "Nay, Lady Voice. All ranks of the order are emptied or occupied by those that neglect their duties." "Then you shall be the new Herald." "My Lady!" Tobin looked as if he was about to faint and he caught a boulder with his free hand to steady himself. "I..I am not worthy of such honor. I..I-" "You waited here on this beach for years without proof I'd come. That is a test of faith. You passed." "You shall not regret this, my Lady Voice! Come, let us show you too the remaining faithful!" Tobin's already surprising speed doubled and Anya, despite being easily twenty years his junior, struggled to keep up. A short time later the pair arrived at a small collection of salt encrusted tents and huts arranged in a circle. As they stepped through the perimeter, Tobin threw his hands up high and in a cracking voice announced: "Behold, the Echo that sounded through the lands when the Voice spoke. Behold, the Echo that was reverberated back home. Behold, the Echo that is now the Voice so we might hear the words of Nald'thal still. Behold her and give thanks to the Twin gods made one." Anya grunted before she licked herlips nervously. Despite her new position, she felt no different. No gods spoke to her now. No words came to her ears. And no divine sights had been beheld by her eyes. She was still Anya Marrow, even if Torbin viewed her as a sacred thing. But she remembered her predecessor’s words: "The Twins don't speak in ways we understand, and often times, you will act without knowing their will until later, when you look back and behold the pattern within the past. You are my Echo, you do their will with your words and actions. You are chosen." Her bodyguards slipped from the boulder field and stood behind her, their faces covered by hoods and their bodies wrapped in billowing cloaks as their eyes gazed at the faces emerging from the huts and tents. Thirty souls in all had waited for Anya's return and the looks of relief on their faces made it clear how hard their lives had been. They had fled certain death at the hands of adventurers and mercenaries to face the unknown here, on these shores. They all bowed to her and ceaseless praises to their god filled the air as one figure went to a large boulder upon which was carved Nald'thal's symbol and lit a candle. Anya wasn't sure how to respond. She had much to learn before she could lead the people as she was destined too. Thankfully a blond figure steppedout of a doorway and waved her over. Anya eyed the man, dressed in fine silks and gaudy jewelry and gave a frown. To spend was the will of Nald, as trade was his realm of rule, but there was an arrogance to the blond’s actions that bothered her. "You have all done well!"Anya announced, bowing to the crowd. "You honor me with your devotion and I am humble to carry the torch of my forebears. I am not worthy to lead you, you who suffered for so long. But, by Nald'thal's will, we shall see our suffrage weighed by our god and soon great shall our reward be for our faith. Let me speak with the seerer." The mass bowed to her as she walked towards the blond male. "Herald." Anya spoke as Tobin fell alongside her, clearly looking for orders. "Tell the faithful to begin packing up. A ship awaits us to ferry us south. The time of tribulations is over." Torbin nodded and turned to his taskas Anya stepped inside the house and shut the door behind her. The blond male was now seated before a pot that hung over a hot fire. In his hands was a baby seal that he was skinning like an apple. "Well, you're just as good atleading fools as your master was." the blond miqo'te chuckled as his hands worked slowly. "I want answers, little cat!" Anya spat. "And you hold your tongue when you speak of Nald'thal's faithful or I'll cut it out." "Oh no, not my tongue, ever Ido?" giggled the blond man as he tossed the skinned seal into the pot. A blade made from a femur was suddenly pressed to the blond's throat as Yurt seized him from behind. The blond pursed his lips but didn't seem to be surprised that the tattooed miqo'te had managed to be behind him despite the fact he'd not walked through the door. "Ah, you have Crows...surprising they follow you." the blond seerer said carefully. "I am the Voice, why wouldn't they follow me?" Anya snorted. "Because you aren't the only Voice." commented the blond dryly. "Impossible, only I had-" "You want to talk, or listen?" the male asked incredulously as he raised an eyebrow. Anya glared at him and waved her hand. Yurt hissed and slipped back into the shadows. "Speak, little cat." Anya ordered in a commanding tone. "And let's start with your name and why you're helping me." "In time, my dear. In time, though you may continue to call me Crate." Crate slowly began to stir his baby seal soup with a spoon. "Okay it's time. So, a year or so after you ended up in that wonderfully cozy Garlean cell, the Voice began efforts on creating a mortal coil for 'Nald'thal." "The dragon form..." Anya said softly. "Yeah, that." Crate rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, the Crows -he- had at the time managed to raise enough attention to get people investigating your cult...church, thingy and their actions and their trade deals. So, he had to deal with goody-goodies trying to stop him. On -top- of that problem, many of the Crow's went rogue." "That's...not possible." Anya blinked in shock as she looked up at Yurt, who squatted in the shadows with his knife between his yellow teeth. He was bound to serve her. Crows were made to serve the Voice of Nald’thal alone. It wasn't possible that... "Oh but it was, and part of your current problem actually, but I get ahead of myself. A Crow named Atrium made friends with several of those out to kill the Voice. Several Crows sided -against- the Voice and ensured he died when he was found out by a group of hunters." "So these Crows ensured their own death then." Anya stammered, in disbelief. "They cannot exist without the Voice too-" "I was getting to that."Crate said flatly. "If you’d let me finish....okay then. So, this bring us to the other 'Voice' called Rotunda. Also a Crow, this little Crow managed to become the conduit for the other Crows’ continued existence by...somehow, I'm not totally sure how he did it but I suspect that your predecessor made changes in the ritual when creating those Crows that I'd not taught him." "Wait,-you- taught him?" Anya raised both eyebrows. "What are you..." "What, did you really think that Crow's were a -divine- construct made by Nald'thal's will?" Crate cackled. "Not even. They're a form of revenant and anyone with the right knowledge could craft one up. Made properly, they fade when their creator dies but clearly...your prior Voice made a mistake. He made a way to transfer whom they needed to endure to stay ‘alive’. I'm willing to bet he made this ability for them to pass to you upon his death but...well Rotunda fucked that up for you. Especially since the Crows abandoned the cult members to reckless slaughter. I mean, your two Crows might be the only two -real- Crows left at this point. Only ones who serve you for certain." Anya blinked in amazement at all this. A fake Voice? Rogue Crows? A purging of her order? How...what sort of test was Nald'thal asking of her? "How...how do you know all this?" Anya stammered. Crate took a sip of his soup and then kept stirring the cauldron. "I was a close advisor, friend,and college to your master. As I said, I taught him much, but he, in turn had much to teach me. Really, your master might have been one of the best minds this world has ever known. Pity he was killed honestly. But he and I talked and he had spoken to me of these concerns. And, after his death, well, I kept my ear to the ground as it were." "So...everything is gone?" Anya said quietly, clenching her fists. "Mostly. The purge was thorough and your cult’s wealth was plundered. Plus your rival Voice has absconded with the rogue Crows and they are who knows where now doing who knows what. No one’s heard from them in sometime. "So why help us? Why help me? You came to me the day I was freed from my cell. Why not tell me then?" "So you could see the truth for yourself. I doubt you'd have believed me without seeing your flock. And as for why? Well, I respected your Master and felt I owed him, even if I don’t follow your cult. "You lie." Anya growled. "Half-truth." Crate commented, tossing some herbs into the soup. "I also hope to gain something." "And what's that?" Anya cocked her head to one side. "I can supply you with gold,information, and more things you need to rebuild and grow once again." Crate explained casually. "In return, I simply want the right to watch what happens, to document it, and have you attempt to complete the ritual your Master attempted." "That ritual nearly cost us everything!" Anya rose to her feet. "Now is the time for rebuilding!" "I agree. But the wroth of Nald'thal must come again. The scales must be evened, is that not what your doctrine says? I simply want to be around when that happens." Crate gave an impish grin. "For personal reasons." Anya knew he was right. Their doctrine did call for a balancing for this affront against the gods' chosen. She would have to see this righted and this cat could help her. For now. "Very well, Crate. For now, the Church accepts your offer. Just know, all scales will be evened." Anya snapped her fingers and Yurt's knife came to Crate's throat once more. "Even yours."

DqdyyxdZ4cQ "You fool!" Jin bellowed as torrent of raw, primal aether spewed forth from the device Jin'li had left behind. The device, once a reservoir of untold power and possibility, now lay slashed in twain as its stores of writhing power escaped with the sounds of countless screams. The female miqo'te staggered back as Hojo Zuginoch advanced upon her with his blazing axe clenched in his iron fists. A roar ripped from his maw as he surged forward like a primordial titan, each of his foot falls sounding like the bellows of thunder. The aged woman brought what remained of her stores of arcane energy against the golden warrior with a tremendous crash. The walls of the cave cracked from the blast but on the massive male came, his own powers consuming the black aether. "No!" Jin shrieked in disbelief as her black eyes grew wide as the massive axe swung and her head left her shoulders. The ancient woman, mother of terrors and bomb makers, had a look of indignant defiance as her head rolled across the ground. Jin's corpse fell to the earth as black flames began to devour her flesh. Then the body exploded. The earth trembled as parts of the roof began to fall free. Hojo and his allies fled for the stairs as the entire complex seemed on the verge of collapse as the sundered artifact twisted the physical world. More stones fell and then it was over. Silence. A mound of stones had filled the stairs that led towards the surface. Somewhere up those stairs, Hojo, A'tune, Renald, and the other witch hunters were bathing in the sun, feeling free of the horrors their hunt had brought upon them. Jin was ended, the 'Urn' her son had left behind was sundered, and the power it had held was gone. It seemed the world was better. But they were deceived. In the blackness of the chamber, a mound of blond hair climbed from its hiding place. Crate, peering into the total darkness with unnatural sight and seeing what now remained, gave a small smile as he sauntered over to Jin's skull and picked it up. He shoved his hand into the head and used several fingers to make Jin's jaw flap. "You never were 'ahead' of the situation, where you?" Crate giggled impishly. "I never was." Crate mimicked Jin's voice, making the mouth move with his fingers. "And that's why my betrayal was so sweet." Crate licked his lips. "That oaf found you cause I wanted him too. The power is mine, Jin. It was always mine. Like I'd let you use it. You'd just destroy the Empire with it. But me...well..." Crate used his free hand to pull open his robe and reveal a black phylactery glowing a sick green. It had been busy absorbing the power released by the urn during the fight between Jin and Hojo, both of whom thought Crate had died when Ranald had shot Crate off a cliff over a moon ago. "I have better plans." Crate's lips twisted into a cold sneer. "The -best- plans. The...what was it you and your brat always said? Oh yes...the -kindest- plans." Crate brought the dead lips to his own. He kissed them tenderly before he drop-kicked the kicked and watched as it bounced and rolled away with wet, striking noises on the stones. "Whelp, I've done enough damage to -this- fish stand." Crate said loudly, dusting his hands off as he looked around. "I better make like a tree and leaf." Crate snapped his fingers and then was gone. [align=center]-End of the 'Urn' Arc- (As always, a thanks to all who played a part on this set and dealt with my schedule )[/align]

Entry 18 "Stars are lovely, eh?" I said quietly, gazing up at the countless heavenly body blazing brilliantly in the the dark sky. In that moment as I gazed upon the celestial bodies spinning over me, I felt insignificant. In that moment, nothing mattered. I saw that in grand scale of the cosmos and time, I was but a flea scrabbling over the flesh of a world that didn't even know I existed. I would die and the universe would continue without noticing my passing. It was a humbling sensation and I lowered my head to gaze back upon the path our wagon rolled up, the pair of chocobos drawing myself and our cargo onwards to our date with Frandrin's agent. I bit my lip and rubbed my hands together anxiously, thinking of all the steps I'd taken. I was going for broke with this one. I was only getting one shot, and if I missed anything, if -one- thing didn't go my way, I was a dead man. And worst, my son and the whole orphanage might follow me into Thal's kingdom. Well, like I told Lady Blackstone, I like to take needless risks. I'd spent all sun collection papers, contacting as many people as I could, and trying to figure out how best to ensure this went down the way I wanted. I glanced behind me. In the back of the wagon was a safe, strapped down by rope to keep it from sliding around. Inside however, wasn't just the papers I'd promised I'd bring to Frandrin's agent. It was a bomb. That fool had another thing coming if he thought I wasn't going to bring him down with me. I glanced at the massive Roe sitting beside the safe, dressed in a Brass Blade unfirom. He stared off at the landscape, his arms crossed over a chest twice as wide as mine. Frosted Road was the silent type but I didn't mind. He wasn't here to talk. I turned back around. I'd contacted some others to guard the orphanage and my boy. It's been a quick call to arms but thankfully some where able to get there. My boy was safe and they were standing watching over him. But Frandrin would be counting on that. I'm sure both myself and the orphanage were being watched, as well as who knows else: Reed, the White Wolf House, Kanako, Sun'ra, anyone could be a risk. So I had to act like I was playing along. Grab papers and shove them into the safe. Make a show of it. Make it look like i was gathering the papers. But I wasn't. Not from everyone. There was one set of papers that would still ruin Frandrin if i didn't make it back from tonight. But if I did... I smirked as my metal fingers curled into a fist. I was going to make sure Frandrin got to see me gloat. "Well, here we are." Y'Mara announced. She sat to my left, pulling on the reigns to bring it to a stop. She was dressed in her uniform and her axe gleamed wickedly in the moon's full radiance. I glanced over at the small collection of buildings that formed the Golden Bazaar. Smoke rose from a chimney, but otherwise it looked dead and empty. I grunted and scratched my chin as my blue eye peered into the darkness. "This is a bad idea." Frost Road grunted from the rear of the wagon, his deep voice shaking the wagon. "I'm inclined to agree." I answered, turning. To my left fell away a great cliffside, to my right, the haml;et, and behind, the road home. To safty. "Last chance to back out." Y'Mara said in her gravely pitch. I knew she was right. Once I was up in between those buildings, I was in Frandrin's game, playing against whatever chess pieces he was sending my way. Garlean Shadows. More Corrupted Blades. Hell, could be a band of adventurers come for me. But I had to play. Had to pretend. "Just sell your part and earn your gil." I grunted, trying to sound more commanding and in-charge than I felt. "You tha boss." Y'Mara snickered, and I knew that bloodthirsty grin of hers was plastered on her face. I didn't even need to look. I hopped out of the wagon. My boots crunched gravel beneath as I landed. A gentle breeze blew as I began walking up the stairs that lead to the hamlet. As I went, a gentle breeze tugged at my grey wool poncho and the wool cap I had atop my head. it was a far more simple outfit than my normal attire. But i wasn't feeling very festive today. I entered the square and looked around. No one. Only deep shadows and a single lantern burning by the inn. I looked around nervously as I made my way to an abandoned fruit stand and stood beside it, using it as some form of protection. It wasn't much but it made me feel safe. I waited for nearly half a bell. Jumping at every sound, anxious waiting. And then, the figure appeared. Dressed in all black, it seemed to emerge from the shadows itself, as if it was one. The figure was tall and ominous. I swallowed as it spoke in a voice laced with a Garlean accent: "You have the documents?" "Didn't expect Frandrin to be sending Garlean Shonobi." I replied, trying to sound casual but knowing my voice cracked several times. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. In fact, I was hoping he'd send you." There was a pause, and then an amused chuckle. "You know our reputation, yet you are glad...that may be a first." Yes, well," I said glacing around. I had to hope that E'tu was in position. All i could do. "I was hoping to talk with you. I think Frandrin is a anchor you've tied yourself too. The Empire would be better with me as an ally. In fact, I've been trading regularly with many units." The shadowed man moved forward slowly, closing the distance to an unconformable seven paces. I felt the fingers of my right hand teasing my revolver as I watched his every movement. "I see." the words were smooth as silk. "Sadly for you, I'm not here to discuss such matters. Frandrin is our contact inside the city and you've threatened him -and- his position. This risks our plans. The papers." "I..." I felt my mouth go dry as my muscles tensed. "They're int he safe." I jerked my head down towards the parked wagon. "Only I have the combination." "Are you sure they're in there?" came the oily answer. My fingers warpped around the revolver as I nodded. "Of course. I'm not-" Saved by years of miqo'te instincts. I reacted without really thinking when i saw the flash of silver against the moon. The knife whizzed from the Shanobi's belt. My metal arm shot up and swatted the blade away. I heard it dig into the earth. Thinking of it now, I'm so lucky, yet bad ass that happened. Don't know if I could do it again, but I need to thank Sun'ra from sending so many knives at me over the cycles. My right hand jerked up, pulling the revolver free as i aimed it at the shadowed mass. I fired, the gun's report loud inside the still town. i missed my shot and that was all it took for the assassin to close the distance. With a dagger in each hand he slashed at my guts, eager to spill my intestines upon the sandy stones. I recoiled, throwing myself backwards over the fruit stand. As I sailed through the air, i took another shot. Missed. I slammed hard onto my back and rolled. Sand filled my mouth and nose as I caught my feet and rose to see the killer coming at me. I tried to bring my gun around but his first blade caught my firearm and knocked it free from my grip. At the same time, he tried he slashed at my throat with his second blade, but i managed to parry his knife with my metal limb, a shower of sparks dancing between us. He was so quick though. He spun and drove a kick square into my stomach. I felt the air knocked from me as I feel onto my back. I have no doubt I almost died then as he came at me. I could see his brown eyes behind his mask and knew. But E'tu came through. A weapon's roar bellowed out and a moment later I watched the assassin's chest cavity explode and shower me with his blood. I watched in grim horror as the dead man lurched and then slumped into the earth beside me. I scrambled away, coughing and gagging as I felt blood and sand running down my throat. I tried to breath but the kick hurt too damn much. "You alive down there?" came a low, slow voice inside my linkpearl. I couldn't answer right away. I need air and was coughing to hard. "Looks like you are from up here." "Hell of a shot." I wheezed. "Could have taken it sooner though." "Had to make sure there weren't others." E'tu's comment was met with more coughing form me. "I'm taking the dry cleaning costs out of your pay." I wheezed as I painfully got to my feet. I had to keep a hand to my bruised core and move slowly to retrieve my weapon. "Don't forget which of us is in the cross hairs." E'tu warned from his hidden sniper's perch that was who knew where. "I was joking." I grunted. The Bazaar was alive with voices. Faces of the locals peering from doors and windows and I quickly turned and began shuffling my way back to my wagon. As I got close, I could see that Frosted Road and Y'Mara had been busy too. There was blood on the sands around the wagon and the Roe had just tossed a corpse into the wagon when I reached the base of the stone steps. "What happened to you?" Y'Mara asked with a raised eyebrow. I could see fresh blood staining her pointed teeth. Her headgear was gone and the black tattoo that covered the left side of her face was plain to see. She jerked her axe out of a twitching cadaver and looked up at the suddenly lively hamlet. "Same as you." I wheezed as I slowly began to crawl into the wagon. A few villagers began to walk towards us and Frosted Road approached them, making sure they saw his uniform. I pverheard him saying soemthing about this being a Blade operation and this was meant to take care of some threats. I didn't get the details. I hurt to damn much. Y'Mara climbed up beside me and seized ym face. She leaned in and licked some of the crimson fluid off my cheek. The woman gave a dismissive snort and shoved me away "That's not even your blood you big baby. Suck it up." "It's not the blood that-" She punched me in the ribs and I groaned. "What the fuck, Y'Mara!" I growled. "And you're ribs are fine. Just some bruising." She picked up the reigns and began to turn the wagon around. "You'll make a terrible mother." I coughed. "Fuck yes I would." Y'Mara cackled softly. It was another few minutes before Frosted Road managed to calm the locals and allay their concerns. Soon, all three shonobi corpses were riding in the back of the wagon with the Roe and the safe as we began to take the long road back to Ul'dah. It was eerily silent for awhile as we went, none of us saying anything. The calm was broken on the final stretch, as we rolled up the road through Central Thanalan. My linkpearl buzzed with a familiar voice. "Tray, you were right. They tried to hit the orphanage." I felt my heart stop. "But my crew handled it. Kids and the old broad are safe. Still want us to move them to the ship?" "Yes, please." I said, almost wanting to choke up as I realized my boy was safe. "Twelve bless you, I'll never forget this." I lowered my hand and glanced at Y'Mara. "How soon can you be ready and cleaned up?" "Depends on where we're going." "The one place Frandrin wont be able to get to us."

Ah, the 'RP' tag. I spent so many years rping without it that I often forget it. Lol

ENTRY 17 "They'll never agree to this and your insane for asking." Frandrin snorted, eyeing me across the table as if I was a nutter. We were sitting on the porch of his manor as he ate a fine breakfast. I was abstaining seeing as I wasn't above the idea of him trying to have me poisoned for black mailing him. "I mean, the balls on you for coming here and-" "Frandrin." I interjected, sniffing and giving a flat stare. "Anyone's balls are bigger than yours. You're a lalafel. But that has nothing to do with the fact that I'm sitting here discussing with you the possibility of-" "You being a Moniterist is the most asinine and idiotic-" "Yet advantageous proposition-" I cut in. "For yourself!" Frandrin exploded as he threw up his arms. "Besides you don't know the first damn thing about politics!" "I know more about the tax codes and import laws of every city-state and nation on either side of the sea than you. And I'm willing to bet I could name of every trade deal Ul'dah currently has before you could finish that meal." I answered quickly. "Only because you exploit systems people like me set up to orderly run this city and it's-" Frandrin started. "I'm sorry, I recall you hiring me on many occasions to get around the laws you and your cohorts implemented in the first place." I grunted, picking my nose. Frandrin stared at me in disgust. "So why the interest in this at all?" the Moniterist asked incredulously. "Simple." I answered. "Gives me legitimacy and a chance to influence the process making. And, a chance to find ways to squeezing others inside this city." "So this is a means to apply pressure to your rivals." Frandrin spoke slowly. "It's self-serving." I confessed with a shrug. "But what have you got to lose? You've just lost an ally and since its on charges of treason, you can't use your clout to get him out, now can you? And right now, you need someone with connections like mine." Frandrin interlaced his fingers after putting his knife and fork down. "You can go to hell, Tray." Frandrin's face was a mask of contempt. "A back water, whore-born pleb like yourself will never, ever have the right to call themself a Moniterist. And I'd prefer to see Ul'dah burn before I do anything to help you become one. You're a plague. I'm well aware of your little fingers in all the pies. And I'm done. You've been blackmailing for moons, and suddenly want my help in a bid to rise above your station?" Frandrin shook his head. "Never. You've climbed as high as you can, little cat. It's time to fall back to earth." I leaned back in my chair and flared my nostrils. "And how much of my gil is flowing into the Moniterist coffers?" I replied angrily. "I didn't hear you and your fellows complaining when I paid you all for-" "You pay to play, Tray." Frandrin snorted. "But so do others. The difference between us and people like you is that, you all pay -us-. And you'll never be us, getting paid to watch you fools kill each other over a few blocks of turf or the best sea lane. That's real power." "Is it? Even Torgi seems to have been subject to the law." I said darkly. Frandrin clenched his fists as I mentioned his fellow Garlean sympathizer now in chains. "You're really a fool. You come here, seeking my help to get in with us and then you make veiled threats against me when you don't get your way. You're just a hot-head without any real plan. Get the fuck out of my home and never come back." I glared at the little lalafel as I rose to my feet. "I could destroy you. With-" "And I you." the lalafel warned. "How's that?" I snorted. "I have more allies here than you think I-" "One more word out of that smart mouth of yours." Frandrin spoke coldly, eyeing me with a cold, intense hatred. "And your son doesn't see his next birthday." Damn me, Dairy, I let that hit me. I froze right up and let Frandrin know he had me. "Oh, don't like that, do we?" Frandrin cooed ominously. "I've been busy too, Tray. Oh I've been so eager to unleash this. You have tonight to get every document you have on me and my dealings with the Garleans into my possession or your boy gets a jackboot to his skull." "You son of a-" I started, Frandrin pulled out a small revolver and pointed it at me. A lalafel with a tiny pistol looks comical. I still want to kill him though. "Give me a fucking reason, Tray." Frandrin narrowed his eyes. "You will produce those documents and bring them to the Golden Bazaar tomorrow night so my agent can burn them. Then you're going to get out of Uldah. Forever. Or I'll see to it you, and everyone who helps you, and your son, all end up in Thal's kingdom. Do. I Make. Myself. Clear." I was shaking, both in fear and seething hatred. My fists were clenched and a snarl was in my throat. "Oh please, stop with the aggressive posturing." Frandrin said with a ruthless laugh. "We both know you've only killed one person in your life and won't do it again. You couldn't even kill Sun'ra, and that man humiliated you to no end. Get out before you make a bigger fool of yourself. You only have till tomorrow so best get busy." Frandrin gave me the most cruel smile I've ever seen. I snarled once more and then turned and stormed out and down the street. He had me. If he actually knew where my son was and...no he was bluffing he couldn't. Limsa wasn't in his control... But if he had gone outside the structures of law...gods what if he had a Garlean assassin waiting to do the deed! I swore over and over. Y'Mara had been right. This -had- been a stupid idea. Me, a Moniterist. How could I have been so naive to think it would work. I... No...Frandrin wasn't my only option. There was others after all. Others who I could work. But first I had to deal with Frandrin. His threat was very real and I'd have to play along for now. Those documents I...but once he gets them he might kill me anyhow... The bastard...he played his move well. I just needed to out play him now. Easier written than said, dear Diary. Easier written than said.

ENTRY 16 "Last chance to back out." I glanced at Y'Mara. She looked almost nightmarish as she stood to my left, dressed in her Brass Blade uniform. The faint light from the moon was casting deep shadows over her features and glinting wickedly off the sharpened edge of the sword she was spinning in her right hand. Behind her was another ten or so Blades; each just as imposing imposing as they mulled in a ragged formation, casting quick glances around the Goblet street. All of the houses were dark and only a few lanterns were flickering, most having long since burned themselves out. Not even a wind stirred the streets. It was only myself and this band of thugs, and our dark intentions. "Too late. I need to have you earn that gil lining your purses." I replied quietly, glancing at the large manor of our target as it rose into the night sky. "Could always turn you in for attempting to bribe an officer of the law." Y'Mara smirked as she placed the flat of her blade to my metal arm. I glanced over at her. She had pulled her lips back into a deviant smile that revealed her pointed fangs. I couldn't see her eyes behind her mask, but I knew there was a mad twinkle in them. "You'd miss me." I answered, slightly anxious at the idea of her turning on me. "I would. You're lucky." Y'Mara chuckled as she turned to look the manor's front door. "Everything will be where it needs to be?" I nodded. "It'll be where I told you." "It had better be, Tray. Or you and I could both hang for this." "Don't worry, tomorrow, your band is gonna be heroes, a Garlean sympathizer will be in chains and-" "A sudden vacancy among thelower rungs of Moneterists opens up." Y'Mara filled in the rest of my sentence. I gave her a nod and accepting shrug. "Almost like clockwork." I added. "Almost indeed." she snorted. "Won't raise any questions." "Have fun." I said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Always." Y'Mara sneered with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm. Violence was her drug and she was clearly jonesing for a fix. This was going to get messy for everyone inside. She gave a hand signal and her band followed after her as she strode forward towards the door. I turned and began to walk away. I had only gone a block when the banging and shouting started before the door was kicked in. After that, I couldn't hear much but I didn't need too. It was all in Y'Mara's hands now. I simply had to play my part. It was a slow walk from the Goblet back towards Ul'dah. And the sun was just rising as I began to ascend those long steps up towards the gate. But as I looked up and saw the first rays of sun gleaming over the spires, I smirked. Diary, my goal is to die with my pockets crammed full of gil. And this city is going to make sure that happens. I'll give it a few days...and then Frandrin and I are going to have a little chat about his ally vanishing like that.

Dairy, you would suppose i'd feel more conflicted about arranging the death of someone I owe a lot too. After all, without Frandrin, I'd never have managed to rise from a simple smuggler to running a smuggling operation that spans half of Eorzea. He was instrumental in helping me with the more complex and important aspects of nagotiations and how to find loopholes in laws that a smuggler cna use. In fact, in the world of crime, he's been as close a father figure as one can get. But he's worn out his usefulness and he's become a danger. I knew sooner or later the blackmailing wouldn't deter him from seeking revenge. But, I had hoped. The matter with Sun'ra kept me so busy I didn't have time to see him trying to squeeze me. Suddenly ships were getting busted and my allies were being preassured by the Blades. If it hadn't been for Y'Mara's intervention, I'd have lost almost all of my foot holds in Thanalan. It was obvious upon my return from overseas that Frandrin was sending me a message. It was a challenge. One I'd been accidentally lucky in gaining the upper hand. Turned out on of the Imperials I was moving products through was Frandrin's major contact as well and the lalfel was trying to emply Imperial Shadows to end me. Thankfully the Imperial decided I was more useful than Frandrin. But it was obvious that this had come to ahead. A rising businessman and a Monetierst hell bent on keepng his power. We both played the game, and he lost. I won. And I'll take so much more than his life before I'm done. Course I didn't do it myself. No need. That's why I pay Y'Mara isn't it? Sweet, dangerous Y'Mara. I recall last night. I was waiting in the shadows of an alley, watching Frandrin's Goblet hme resting peacefully in the cool night as the numerous stars twinkled above. I traced the constalations with my eyes as I waited in the chilly, night air and a shiver rolled down my spine. "Cold?" came Y'Mara's voice. Glancing behind me, I saw the woman and her tattooed face walking up beside me. It was always unnerving to see her dressed in her Brass Blade uniform and knowing the only reason she didn't drag me into a cell was my regular donations to her bank account. "Sergeant." I answered softly as she came up beside me. "You sure about this?" Y'Mara inquired, eyeing the house. "I'm taking an awfully big gamble here. Half my unit thinksthe Leuitenant and I are nuts." "Without a doubt." I answered. "You do this, by tommorow morning you'lll be heroes. Think of it, exposing a known Garlean ageant and the Blue BLood vials in his possession. I'm seeing awards to you and your unit. Just look where I've told you too." "So this mean you still plan on going ahead with your plan with the Monetrists afterwards?" Y'Mara grunted, he teeth grinding. "I can think of no better way to remove competition than by doing it legally." I grinned "

Questions seemed pretty fair to me and only took like a minute. Curious to see end results.

"Tray?! Where the hells have you been? You look like a bag of chocobo shit." Diary, no matter -who- says those words, its not the first thing you want to hear after a long night of drinking. I mean sure, Y'Mara looked alluring as always standing over me, even if she was wearing way more clothing than I normally see her in; but when your head is splitting, and your mouth tastes like dried bile, no amount of eye candy makes you feel less like you got run over by a marching legion of Roes. I recall trying to move and sit up, but the twist of my guts squeezed me tight and a final wave of rum-tainted acid rushed out of my lips and splattered onto the cobblestones. Y'Mara wisely took some steps back as her face wrinkled from the smell "Oh for fuck sakes." she muttered, twisting that fluffy tail of hers in a gesture of annoyance. "I'm fine." I moaned, slowly sitting up with my back to the alley wall and my booted feet kicked out in front of me. I realized then my shirt was gone and I stared at my bare chest in confusion. I'm still not sure where it went. "Just a little hung over is all." "Hah, 'little.'" Y'Mara grunted. "So, do I asked why you haven't been by first, or where the metal arm came from?" I couldn't see her face but I could tell by her tone there was come concern mixed with her chastising. I glanced at the metal where my left shoulder had been and the bolts that affixed the polished plates to the bones within my body. "A gift." I gurgled weakly as I slowly rolled the fingers of my magitek limb. "A gift from Sun'ra." "Him." Y'Mara growled. I'd informed her of the conflict prior some time ago and she had taken my side whole-heartedly. "This has gone on long-" "It's fine." I wheezed, digging into the pockets of my trousers for a flask of water that was...in my coat so I was out of luck. Where was my coat? "We've... come to an understanding." I muttered. "For the time, we're no longer trying to kill each other. Might even say working together." "Only cost you the arm?" Y'Mara snorted distastefully. "What a deal. I'll happily kill that son-of-a-" "Y'Mara," I grunted, forcing a pained smile to my lips. "It's fine. He's no longer a threat and he's easier to control than I thought he would be. For now, let him be. He's profitable." Y'Mara flicked her tail and gave an annoyed grunt. "You just want to kill something." I joked. "Maybe." Y'Mara replied. "So where have you been?" "Took a business trip." I explained as I tried to get to my feet. Y'Mara slipped up to help me and I could feel her coils of powerful shoulder muscles rippling beneath the white fabric of her linen shirt. I draped my arm across her shoulders as she half-aided, half-carried me down the street. "Had some stuff to think about, and some deals to make. Very successful trip, I must say." We walked through Ul'dah, the other pedestrians leaving us a wide berth as we passed. Probably cause of the smell. "One of these days I'm going to find you dead in these streets." Y'Mara muttered, shaking her head. "Not if I can help it." I coughed as I chuckled. "I have a new goal. A political one..." "It's with the Moniterists, isn't it." Y'Mara sighed. "How did you-" "You've talked in your sleep before." she answered quickly. "Wait, but that was months ago we-" "Yeah." Y'Mara confirmed as we took a corner and were hit by the full light of the rising sun. I hissed as my eyes began to water from the glow. "It was. I think it's a stupid idea." "I wasn't aware I paid you to think." I retorted with a wry smile. She drove a fist into my ribs and I wheezed in pain. "Consider it a free bonus." she stated dryly. "My place or yours?" I had to wait a few a few moments to get air back into my lungs to answer. "My place, would you kindly?"

"Eyes have been watching you. They've witnessed you crushed, broken, beaten and smashed. You are adorned in chains the likes of which you cannot see but drive your every move. You are a slave to a million masters. You lost you arm, yet there is no justice for this. Where are your allies? They tell you to fall in line and shut your mouth as if you were a dog. Now you see, they are not your allies, just your slave drivers. So the time has come to free yourself. Shatter these chains. Shatter this false form of oppression. The time has come to become equal to the gods. And this one shall show you the way, Tray'ju."

Entry 14 Bells. Tolling bells. And thecackling laughter of a thousand hungry ravens filling the chalk-white sky. Bells. Tolling bells. I stood hunched against a bitter wind over a grave. My grave. Name, date, and cause of death all written plainly. Cause: Sun’ra Zhawn. The cackling birds sounded like that vile miqo’te as they fluttered. Bells. Tolling bells. I clenchedmy jaw and gnashed my teeth violently. Even in my dreams this bastard torments me, haunts me. No escape. Not in life. A black, twisted, incorporeal shadow image of the man rose up beside me. It snickered as it began pissing black vapor onto his gave. Not in death. No way out and the walls were closing in; the fog wall closing in; and within those white walls were lurking a thousand blades waiting to slice me to ribbons. Bells. Tolling bells. A black raven landed upon the tombstone. It’s onyx eyes peered into my soul as it opened its mouth. A flap of it’s winds stopped the wall’s advance. A second made the mist retreat. A third flap and the date of death upon the stone vanished. Another flap. It rose high and circled overhead. The thing cawed wickedly as the fog wall began to advance once more now that the raven had departed. I knew, somehow, that if he but held out my hand, the bird would light upon it and I would be safe. Safe. Yet, despite this knowledge, why did this bird make me so afraid? Bells. Tolling bells. And a raven’s cackling laughter. And then from the hellish landscape I woke. Once more in the world of the living. The world that is slow crushing my skull beneath its boot as I flail, trying to stay strong. Stay alive. I feel like I am fighting against the whole world. I'm not sure how I can go on. How I can overcome all this. The bottle does nothing. All there is is violence, abuse, and mockery. Who can I trust anymore now that I can't even feel confident in my own Free Company leader? Who has my back? I'm trying to drink myself to sleep, kill the dreams. But I feel like I'm being watched. All the damn time. Yet whenever I look out into those shadow drenched streets, all I see is darkness, whores, and a raven. Hells take Sun'ra for doing this to me. For taking my arm from me. For imprisoning me. For tormenting me as he does now. Damn him!

This one is a huge point, in my opinion. While it's good to flex vocabulary a little, there's not a lot to be gained by "evasive language". My experience with players who go especially purple with their prose is that they're not as interested in storytelling (or story-participating) as they are in trying to feel superior to others (or inversely, cause others to feel inferior) as a power complex by way of attempting to demonstrate how superior they are at writing. Might not be true of everyone, I just speak from my own experience with people like that. Word. These are the people who fancy themselves as authors yet never write anything. Not all ParaRPers, naturally. It's just the actively shitty ones that spoil the tag for everyone else. Yeah, those dirty para-rpers like Roen! Who needs them and their well written plots and well constructed sentences and clever use of adjectives and... NOTICE ME SENPAI!!!!! Seriously though I know what you're talking about Warren Nothing grinds a scene like 30 minutes between posts)

What about "optics"? xp One that's a flag for me is someone who wants to rp fight without using random the first time you fight them, or met them even. I'm not saying rp fighting without rolls is bad. I do it all the time, but with people I have rped with before. I had alot of bad rp fights way back when I started with people who didn't like to roll, nor understood what a good fight should be. Many a brawl was spent having all of my attacks somehow miss. this would go on until I had my character lose so I could go do something fun.

Entry 13 Went out to La Noscea. Was worth the sail. Was good to be at the helm of a ship again. With all the backroom deals and cloak-and-dagger drama that is my life now, I forget just how big and carefree the world can be. The salt spray, the wind at your back, the sounds of sailor's cursing; makes me wonder why I stopped sometimes. But then I went to the orphanage and remembered. Seven years, seven years of hard work and somehow our orphanage still thrives, thanks to the large river of gil I keep directing it's way of course The kids tackled me the moment I got there and I was forced into playing games before knew what was going on. Hide and seek was fun but the constant presence of the extra security I've hired for the place reminded me of the less than savory matters going on back in Thanalan. Thankfully, I was able to get some alone time with my son after dinner. Miss Perkins, in her aged wisdom, cleverly seperated me and my boy from the rest and we went to his room to talk. Twelve bless me, he's grown so much this past cycle. He's twelve now, twelve cycles, can you believe it?! Were has time gone? Just yesterday I seems I had him crying in my arms as a storm rolled through the coast. And now? He's growing up. He's sharp as a tack and was going on and on about how the doctor we had come teach them anatomy for a few moons had really inspired him and he wants to get into medicine. He's already started filling his shelf with medical books and seems extra interested in the spine of all things The spine! Seeing him go on and on, grinning and excited to talk, makes me remember that all this shit I deal with on a daily basis is worth it. Thanks to all this illicit money, my boy and the rest of the orphans here are going to get a shot at any life they want. It wasn't fun having to explain why I don't come visit them more often though. I think he's starting to figure out that pop's income is less than savory and it's hard to tell your kid to live one way and stay away from drugs, when you're nightly breaking both those rules. But I've decided to stay the night here in my old office. Just a bunk, a chair, and a desk really. But it feels like the coziest room I own anywhere. And right now it feels good to simply feel like I matter to people again.

Entry 13 Someone set me up. The West Moore is now a smoldering wreck on the ocean's floor and her crew with it. And I saved only by some bad sushi. If I had spent even half a bell less in that outhouse I would have been blown to bits as well. Whoever it was knew I was going to check out the cargo before she headed out for Doma. They also don't care about the fact they wasted an awful lot of valuable Moko Grass. Could have been any number of persons, but I have an inkling I may know who. We'll need to see though. Now that the Khorofi boy is working for me, I have a new pawn in play in this game. And I think I might just have to play him earlier than expected. I need to test th

Entry 12 Ever have nightmare's that seem so real you swear they happened? Well I just had one. Damn was weird, and woke up in cold sweats. I was there, inside the White Wolf mansion, but the halls and room were all wrong. Doors went everywhere and nowhere and the only light was from these strange candles with green, oily flames. Everywhere these heavy shadows seemed to boil and pop and whispers came from them. I recall looking for the kitchen to have some dinner in the dream but was lost. And then I entered the wash room and there was Hojo, the damn nightmare himself inside my nightmare. Dressed in that armor of his, drenched in blood and tearing flesh from some arm. He looked at me, I at him, and like in real life, I fled. The whole house was filled with screams and the snarling, snapping sounds of Hojo at my heels. I ran, ran as my lungs filled with blood and ice. I ran as my feet fell apart and I collapsed. I crawled, dragging my ruined self and yet, I could not escape that thunderous advance of that blood soaked, iron bound abomination. I turned to see the white-maned monster coming for me, hands dripping in ichor as the air filled with the sounds of Sun'ra's nightmarish cackling. I screamed in terror as the axe of Hojo's rose high. And then the -thing- rose up behind me. I...I have no way to describe that hideous, etheral thing. It was solid yet not, it was blacker than the shadows and yet visible. A mass of teeth and claws, tentacles and limbs. It made Hojo snarl and angry yet it caused the male to retreat as the -thing- spoke. Little Hojo, don't you know, Death is where you must go. The lights began to fade and the things looked at me with countless eyes as the light went out. So, that was it. Not fun. But don't think I'll sleep tonight. I...I just cant. I feel cold. And I'm hungry but kinda afraid to go get food. Funny how nightmares can haunt us in the living world, eh? But if there was something to make Hojo back off like that I'd take it.

Entry 10 Diary, there comes a time in a man's life where he has to really consider everything he stands for. Now, I consider myself a reasonable person. Sure, some might question my moral code, but I strive to be a slice better than the normal criminal. To be a better sort of being than most degenerates out there. But here, in my trying times, I find it neither repulsive nor reprehensible that I permit myself to harbor thoughts about breaking my oath to never kill. Sun'ra Zhwan has forced my hand. He's come for my head, kidnapped a white Wolf member, and driven a wedge between me and the organization. He represents the most vile and base parts of both this profession and the miqo'te race. I didn't want this conflict, but I no have no choice but to play with the hand given me. I will not run this time. I will not flee. And I won't die. I have orphans to protect and my Free Company to see raised to the top. I will not watch everything I've built up be taken from me again! I didn't start this conflict, Diary. Sun and his brother did when they tried for my head and stabbed me in the back. I wanted to live and let live. To make gil and call it good. So here I am, writing in you as I wait to speak with Frandrin. Will update you as things develop further. Oh yeah, Kanako and I actually had a -civil- conversation the other day, so I do need to thank Reed for making that happen, supposing she doesn't break my face for this Sun business.

Yeah I get tired of all these Criminal Organizations that are simply fronts for restaurants and bars. Xp

1. Bring back Spring to Coerthas 2. Super speed, and the ridiculous metabolism that'd come from it 3. Envy and pettiness To the person's character below me: 1. Who is your role-model? 2. Describe your family's dynamic. Are you satisfied with it? 3. What is the greatest challenge you've had to face? Ooh fun. Let's seee, for Tray 1. "Other than myself. Let's see, totally have to be the old madam that runs my orphanage. Any lady who can raise six orphans and not drink is a damn hero. Actually maybe anyone with kids. Kids are bastards, especially orphans. Hehe" 2. "My dynamic. Well My mothers a scary lady and I haven't seen my tribe in years. As for me, my mate is dead and I'm trying to help raise six orphans so unique is probably the word I'd use." 3. "Probably faking my own death after gettting involved with Garleans, vigilanties, and Moniterists." Questions for below: 1 If you could do something over again, what would it be? 2 How do you want to die? 3 What is your idea of a fabulous outfit?

Entry 9 Dear diary, shall I tell you the tale? The tale of how I slipped into Frandrin's mansion and made myself known to him with a dynamic reveal?And how I wrapped him around my finger? I shall? Splendid? Well, there I was, inside his mansion, comfortably sitting in a massive, leather chair with golden trimmings. My legs were crossed and I had my revolver pointed at the entrance to his bedroom. I recall I sat there for about an hour, casually waiting for him to return as I read a book. The book was pretty good actually. About this anti-hero fellow who was - eh that's not to the point here, is it? I heard the door start to open and cocked my revolver. Well, let my tell you, both the butler and I were surprised. We were both tense and neither of us spoke for several moments as we sized one another up. To the butler's credit, he, in his aged, elezen way took all this in stride. He casually folded his hands before him and bowed. "Ah, Master Estinoch, I had heard you perished. I am sure my master will be thrilled to learn of your continued exuberance." "I...I'm sure you are right." I chuckled sheepishly, not lowering my gun. "Is he home?" "Not yet I'm afraid." the butler explained. "He's currently out playing polo." "Right, right, I forgot the day. So how have you been? What have you been up too?" "Butling." The butler joked and I laughed with a nod. "You know I can't just let you walk away. Would ruin the surprise." I added. "This mean you intend harm on my master?" the elezen's grey eyebrow's slanted over his green eyes and I swallowed. I didn't know what he'd done before he'd come to work for Frandrin but I had seen first hand this old man's combat prowess and it was, despite his age, frightening. "Not at all, just a joke of sorts. And protection. After all, I like to be careful when dealing with Garlean sympathizers." I explained, giving a fake smile that was full of teeth. "Has my master ever given you the impression he might want to silence you? He came to rely on you rather heavily before your death...disappearance." "You master is both a Monetarist and a Garlean sympathizer." I retorted with a raised eyebrow. "What about that invites true trust?" The butler shrugged and we then spent the next bell or so making very awkward and light chit-chat. I was very grateful when another set of foot steps began to walk down the hall towards the room. I heard the lalafel call: "Ah, there you are. Could you bring a bit of tea to my study, I..." Frandrin paused as he came into sight through the doorwar and turned to follow his butler's gaze towards me. A Cheshire grin took my lips and I twitched my tail lazily. "Hello, Frandrin." I purred and the lalafel went pale. "Tray..Tray'ju. I..thought you were dead." "Indeed." I mused. "But I'm not. It's cause of you I had to fake being dead. You know why?" I narrowed my eyes. "Because you had me smuggle in those damn vials of Blue Blood!" "Now look, I paid you for the delivery." Frandrin began. "I told you everything and-" "Except how half the damn world would want to kill me to get to you over it!" I snapped, anger suddenly flushing my face red as I recalled how everything I had built was gone because I had to drop colors and run for my life because of this man. "The Maelstrom, bounty hunters, hell even other crooks were after me cause of that shipment. And for what? So you could have them in case you needed them?" "Ah. So you have come for revenge then?" Frandrin swallowed nervously. Beside him the elezen flexed his fingers. I glared at the lalafel and grunted. "No." I replied and saw Frandrin's face relax some. "I came here because word is you've been a bad little bee." "Beg your pardon?" "Oh yes. I heard all about how you've 'helping the war effort against the Empire'. How noble of you to send supplies. Especially those 'special' boxes." "How did you.." "I'm a bad little bee too, Frandrin. I still have a few contacts. And after I got word you were hiring people to move those 'special' boxes to make sure they got aboard vessels bound to the front, I got curious and just had to look inside. And whoop boy. I don't know much about bombs, but whoever you've got making these babies is a master. And let me be the first to say that there are not many bomb makers in Ul'dah who are that skilled. So what's the angle? Make sure that the bombs blow up the ships full of supplies on the way to the front? Or you waiting till they reach the front to detonate them?" "You have a point? Frandrin grunted, clearly holding back his anger. He was caught but was avoiding answering my questions. That didn't bother me. I'd done my research before coming here. "Well, you are going to pay me to keep my mouth shut and ensure myself and my organization is left alone by the Brass Blades. You are also going to put some bounties out for me. And any jobs you or your friends have go through me now. And if you think about killing me, I have left several identical folders with various people who all have instructions to open the files should I vanish or turn up expired; and then turn the documents over to various groups. These documents detail your busy little schemes, all your little secrets, and just how far your Garlean strings go. And if you think I'm just talking the Brass Blades, you missed the mark. I'm talking vigilant groups. You know, the nut jobs who you can't bribe with your authority. The idealists." Frandrin was grinding his teeth and glaring. 'So it's blackmail is it?" "More like a forced merger." I replied. "You now operate through me at my rates. You pay a lot for quality you know. The envelopes are just insurance against you and your Garlean puppet masters." "You've become far more cut throat." Frandrin commented. "Life does that to people." I remarked. "Do we have a deal?" "Do I have a choice?" "About as much choice as you offered me when I moved the Blue Blood." I answered sardonically. "I see." "To a beautiful partnership." I said with a pleased smile. "To something." the lalafel growled. Ten minutes later I left by the front door and, Diary, I don't mind telling you I wore a shit-eating from on my face the whole way home.

Just a thought. So I'm sitting at the bar, and I hear a few folks chatting and each of them is going on and on about their regrets and how they are messed up. They all agree they are recovering but did terrible things in their past. And sure as shit it's pretty bad stuff they said. But, I dunno, am I the only one who wants to meet a monster who doesn't regret who or what they are? For example, Kanako called me a monster all the time. Said I was letting the world kill itself by making weapons and drugs so easy to obtain. But, I've never felt like a monster and I don't have trouble sleeping at night. Am I simply enlightened or am I actually a sociopath? I've never bought into good and evil but that can't be why I don't regret my life, can it? Is it cause I justify my actions? I just always simply felt like me doing me, smuggling and being good at it. I dunno. I just thought worth a scribble. Maybe. I'm drunk so I may read this in the morning and be very confused. - - - Yeah the now sober me, while somewhat agreeing with drunk me, needs to stop drinking so much around people philospizing. I was up for hours thinking till I passed out. Good thing I did, my thoughts were all over. Ugh, I got a bad hang over. Too much rum, not enough water.

Anyone else recall how colorful the rpc used to be what with all the strong opinions that led to butting heads and arguments that closed like one in three threads? Or the day the RPC server got overloaded and crashed so Freelance had to beef it up? Lol. Ahhh good times. Overall I'd say RPC is a far more civil place now than it used to be. Even the Void has slowly lost its fangs over time. Edit: Also think Freelance Wizard doesn't get enough credit for all the work they used to do here on their own. So here! -two thumbs up-

"That which is not dead can eternal lie. And with strange aeons, even death, may die."