Askier

“Dead. This one requests that you be utterly sure with what you are saying.” Jin’li stated calmly as he gazed at the raven seated on his desk. Jin’li stood in the middle of the room, his black eyes fixed on the bird as the miqo’te’s hands held a broom. Jin’li had refused to allow the staff of the “Drowining Wench” to clean his room, feeling they did not clean it well enough for his tastes and he was currently three hours into cleaning his room. On average the shadow of a living miqo’te cleaned for roughly four hours a day. “Is sure! Is sure! Is sure! Dead! Dead! Dead!” the raven cawed harshly and Jin’li blinked. The discovery that ‘Fire’ was dead was an unhappy development. He had needed her to deliver his messages to continue escalating the tensions he needed to perpetuate death and chaos. The male frowned and then went to his desk and pulled out pen and ink. He wrote, over the course of about an hour, three letters. Once they were complete, he wrapped them neatly and stamped them shut with a seal. As Jin’li rose, three crows hopped on his desk and Jin’li explained to them their instructions on how to find each of the three persons needed with each letter. Once the birds understood as best as their dark minds could fathom, they seized the letters and took to the skies to seek out their intended targets. Jin’li then took his broom in his hand again and resumed his cleaning. Jin’li might be insane, but he kept a wonderfully clean room.

Look at my avatar, Now back at this post, Back to the avatar, Now back to this post. Obviously this post is white, but if you look at my avatar again you will see a red coat. Look down, back up, where are you? You are in Ul'dah with the Garlean wearing the red coat you could have. Look at your hand. Back at me, I have it. Its a red coat just like Askier's. Look around you now. All of Ul'dah is wearing the red colored coat because Askier makes it look so damn good. You can do anything when you wear a red coat. I'm on a chocobo. MEYAH! .....Yeah Askier likes red. Red wine, red blood, red coats, red flowers...I mean what? Yeah ...red. ....Jin'li likes black..... >.<

“So, the deal is on?” Jin’li remarked in his dead voice, the black eyes hollow pits behind the mask. He currently stood in the shadows of an alley, gazing out with an intense stare at the docks in lower Limsa. Seagulls cawed over head as a few black crows flew among them. Beside the entrance to the alley was the massive shirtless form of Ci’ya Laytier. His huge arms were crossed over his broad chest and his abdominal muscles where tanned and chiseled as they descended toward the belt that suspended his paints just below the navel. The massive Garlean nodded as he leaned against the wall, pretending he wasn’t speaking to the mysterious figure behind him in the alley as sailors and fishers walked past. “Yup. The man was interested in yer coin fer sure. Though doubt he would like to see my ugly mug again. Thinks I’m not real officer like.” Ci’ya flicked his tail as he watched a fish dart out of the water and splash back down. The miqo’te knew he could have ripped the hyur’s head clean off and that was enough. Ci’ya was as alpha male as it came in his head. Money didn’t mean much to him. Raw punching power did. “Then our deal is over. Tyrthian Oul thanks you for your efforts. Once Trythian Oul has made his deal and finalized it, his people shall contact you.” Jin’li said flatly as he leaned on his cane. “So yer gonna make sure this fella keeps his end of the bargain up?” Ci’ya said in his deep drawl as his eyes narrowed just a tad. He didn’t trust this Trythian Oul or whomever this weird miqo’te was whom had hired him to act as a Garlean liaison to the various arms merchants operating within the Empire but he was willing to play his part. “You sure my superior’s unit is gonna get the supplies it needs here to continue its mission? We done had some trouble getting’ supply lines established after all. Jin’li’s tail flicked a bit and he blinked as he turned. “Trythain Oul does not tell falsehoods. Your unit will receive the agreed upon equipment as agreed upon while Trythian Oul will sell the remaining weapons to those whom so desire to purchase the weapons you will use on them.” “Then why donchya make us buy ‘em too?” Ci’ya inquired as his eyes were caught by a swaying female form and watched it walk away. “Because, Trythian Oul is in the business of war. And if there is no one killing, why would anyone need weapons like these? The more people killed, the more Trythian Oul will sell.” “That’s a pretty cold sorta business plan if I ever heard one.” Ci’ya said slowly, his eyes losing sight of the female as she turned a corner and he looked back at the sea that glistened in the afternoon sun. “Smart business is heartless. And when you deal in death, being heartless makes you the best.” Jin’li walked away into the shadows of the alley and was gone. Ci’ya grunted as he heard the cane clacking away and shrugged. He was a soldier who did his part. He was doing his job as a supply officer and getting his unit the additional weapons they needed to continue their operations. If that required acting as a sort of advertising agency while performing their duties, Ci’ya was remarkably unconcerned about that. The hulking miqo’te shrugged his shoulders off the wall and began walking down the street. Now where had that pretty female gone?

Pilus Prior Adetck von Welchmier was not the sort of man who enjoyed having his time wasted, especially now that he was reaching his senior years. His face was deep with wrinkles and the white beard that covered his face was neatly braided as it hung to his chest. His bald head was cleanly shaven, polished and reflected the lights of the oil lanterns that burned around him on the ship’s deck. The Pilus Prior was dressed in his military garb but had placed a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. The smell of the rotting whale blubber from the whaling ship stunk to the high heavens and the older male had already determined that he was going to need to burn the boots he now wore upon returning to civilized ports. The only reason he was here, now, aboard a festering ship in the middle of the ocean, instead of his richly furnished home, was the mysterious letter he had received. In the letter he had been asked to meet here to conduct a business deal, one he should attend or would discover certain details of his…nightlife would be made very openly public to his political opponents inside the Empire. So here he stood, waiting for the crew to find this Ci’ya Laytier below deck. “Bloody miqo’te.” the hyur growled, his three eyes narrowing in disgust. “Vermin aught to be-“ “Be what?” came a voice. Welchmier turned and blinked as his eyes came to rest on one of the thickest, tallest and most heavily muscled miqo’tes he had ever seen. The male’s hair was cut short and he wore a battered Garlean uniform with the insignia marking him as a Centurian Immune on the breast. A green jacket, covered in muck hung over the uniform The male miqo’te yawned and began to pick his nose vigorously as he spoke, his voice slow and thick with a deep drawl. “Well, meow, I did ask ya what yah was sayin’” the mio’te said as he pulled a booger out and flicked it onto the floor. The miqo’te’s green eyes shone like emeralds in the dim light as they blinked lazily. “I could have your head for this!” Welchmier snapped indignantly, slamming his foot down, his sword rattling in its scabbard. “You are a Garlena soldier, an inferior officer, and a lower breed. How dare you take that tone with me. You will address me as my title demands.” “Look,” the miqo’te named Ci’ya Laytier started slowly in his lazy drawl before he yawned and continued. The miqo’te had deep bags under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Truth is he had been asleep for the past twelve hours. “I knows who ya are, I knows what I should be doin’ and I was getting’ to that, but then ya threw a fit. Ya can’t order me around cause I ain’t in your unit, and if ya don’t stop giving me a headache with yer constant complain’ I’m gonna take myself back to Limsa and then back to my unit. I’m only here helping out this Trythian Oul feller cause he payin’ me and needed a favor. So do ya wanna clam up and listen to the offer about making money for yer surplus weapons or ya want to keep puffing yerself up like a constipated canary?” Ci’ya had begun chewing on a wad of whale fat he had stored in his mouth while he had slept and he gazed at the Garlean hyur through half open eyes. He was clearly bored and could take this situation or leave it. In fact, Ci’ya was normally incredibly respectful of superior officers in uniform, though he hadn’t seen the homeland since his unit was mostly destroyed and he had been serving under the command of Marcus Valerius Corvus inside Eorzea for the pat six years. Welchmier went livid and his fist shook at the mannerisms this inferior officer was displaying and if it weren’t for the fact that whomever had sent him had more dirt about the Pilus Prior than his own wife did, Welchmier would have spilled Ci’ya’s guts all over the gut covered deck. “Speak fast then, before you lose your tongue.” Welchmier spat. Ci’ya spat his wad of whale fat onto the floor and nodded. “Whelp, alright then. Point ya need to know is Mr. Trythian Oul be wanting to purchase yer surplus Garlean weapons and tech to black market in Eorzea.” Ci’ya shrugged. “About it right there. Ya ship it whole sale, he splits price 50-50.” “Why is this Trythian Oul wanting to make this sort of deal?” Welchmier said slowly, his anger for the massive miqo’te diminishing slightly. “Hells if I know.” Ci’ya answered with a lazy blink of his green eyes. “He contacted me by letter and basically made me meet with some person of his and then be here to make the deal. Needed Garlean to Garlean talk or something I suppose. After this I’m cleared to go back to my unit once I give him yer answer.” “So you have no reason to trust him?” Welchmier said suspicious suddenly. “Well, he did send a chest of gold for ye and promise of more once the first shipment I got here under my belt comes in.” Ci’ya reached down the front of his trousers and pulled out a piece of paper after adjusting himself for a moment. Ci’ya handed the parchment to Welchmier, who took it and held it at arm’s length from himself like it was a dead rat. “Charming.” Welchmier remarked in disgust. But his tone shifted as he read the order. “You certain this is what he wants?” “Hells if I know.” Ci’ya shrugged lazily. “I’m just a messenger here, like I done said like three times now or somethin’.” “Testament to the Emperor’s army you are.” Welchmier said sarcastically as he read over the order and where it was to be delivered and when. Welchmier was wary of this Trythian Oul. But the idea of being able to ship in the last generation of Imperial weapons, most of which was obsolete and sitting in surplus storage for no reason was too good a chance to pass up. Welchmier had never seen combat. In fact, all he did was manage warehouses full of munitions and such. He held the record books to some of the largest weapons dumps in the Empire and if some of those weapons got slipped under the table into Eorzea to slip gold into his personal accounts and increase his spending power, Welchmier would not find it unpatriotic to do so. In truth, Welchmier had been looking for a chance to do this for years but most in the Empire already had weapons like what he could offer. But Eorzea, that back water shit hole, was so far behind the Empire technologically, that Welchmier shipping the arms could make gunblades a common sight within the city-states. And that was a fun concept. And a profitable one. Especially if this Trythian Oul was one of the major players on the black market at the moment. Trythian certainly seemed super informed. He obviously had ties within the Empire to send this degenerate miqo’te to do his bidding. Part of Welchmier said this was a bad idea but his greed was stronger. “Tell this, Trythian Oul we have terms. I will bring the initial order to the location he specified with my armed escort. If I am satisfied with that exchange, we might do business together.” A crow, that had been watching them, suddenly flew off, squawking loudly. Ci’ya Laytier nodded and then yawned as he stretched. “Very well. I’ll let him know before I get back to my unit.” “And what unit is that, so that I might send the court-martial paperwork in myself.” Welchmier threatened darkly. Ci’ya looked at the hyur and then lifted his left arm and flexed. The miqo’te’s bicep swelled into a mass even a roe might be proud off and blinked as he kissed the muscle mass. Around him the small crew of the whaler all shifted their eyes to the Pilus Prior and his small entourage. “Why don’t ya get yer fancy self back on the ship, sir, and back home?” Ci’ya said in his drawl. “Before ya get hog tied and heaved over into the water after we shave yer beard with a rusty razor?” Welchmier glared daggers but spun and stormed off to the brow connecting this ship to his own. Welchmier, despite his bravado was no fighter, and was not stupid enough to waste time and a good uniform on trash like Ci’ya Laytier.

And then a Thieves Guild, and then an Assassin's Guild... Well, there isn't a Thieves' Guild, but there IS a Rogue's Guild. :lol: THE FIRST RULE OF THIEVES' GUILD IS... Have your class stolen and get renamed 'Rogue' cause it's more politically correct?

Jin’li sat on a bench overlooking the sea. It had been a busy few days. The miqo’te had been flexing his influence subtly, employing the sorts of persons he saw fit to carry out his required orders so carefully. That part had gone well. If the death of Franz in any way bothered him, the emotions would never reach Jin’lis stoic mind, which regulated and cleansed itself of unwanted emotion with a veraciousness most could hardly dream possible. Jin’li’s lack of emotion was a choice, one he had made back as a young man, just as his self-castration was of his own desire. Many might baulk at his life choices, but considering he had been just a slave back then, those were the only things he had any control over at all. But, while Franz was not on his mind, the Lady Grimsong was. Their meeting had been a chanced one. Unexpected for certain. Though Jin’li had seen a chance to gain an ally in her and had attempted to offer her a deal: her freedom from her former puppeteer in exchange for her help. A fair trade. And she had almost taken the bait. She had nibbled so hungrily at it, but in the end, her personality just would not permit her to accept it. Jin’li could have killed her then and there, but she had carried something. Something remarkably eye catching, though she had acted as if she had nothing unique in her arms at the time. In fact, Jin’li had missed it initially, so well she played it. But he had caught on at the end. And now his birds followed her, reporting to him her movements. In fact, the number of ravens and crows had increased in the city since his arrival, and their white, bird droppings were becoming as numerous as the dung from the seagulls. The initial stages of his plans were nearly complete though. He had already established lines of communication with several of the old Garlean arms dealers Adin had once used to arm his own, shadow army. Imperial, surplus weapons always sold well on the black market. Jin’li was just positioning himself to be the sole seller of Imperial arms in Limsa and eventually Eorzea. Already he had obtained three galleons he would be using to ship the goods in once arrangements were made. But before he went that far, he needed two more things. A series of warehouses to house the weapons, and a certain black mage to apply one last touch to them before the runt would begin selling. Until them, Jin’li was contenting himself with setting his pieces on the board, and crunching out any potential competition. Though, honestly, there wasn’t much. Garlean arms weren’t, exactly, common in Eorzea and those trafficking them were even rarer. But, if Jin’li had anything to do with that, that would change soon enough, and the balance of power would shift with the change. War was a business. And Jin’li only cared about one commodity: death.

Jin'li sipped his early cup of black tea as he read. Once his black eyes had finished reading the article, he placed the parchment down and looked over at the crow that was seated on the desk beside him. "This one is not sure whom wrote this article specifically, but publicly defaming a Lady for having two vaginas and seven children is far from kind. To disclose such personal information is remarkably rude. This one is offended for the Lady Crofte. After all, we did have such a wonderful dinner together. Before we liberate her from the affliction of that that currently consumes her, this one will have to send a sympathy card with our condolences to show her our support.”

I'll add mine 1 - Scar underneath his left eye. This scar Askier recieved from Jana during my first event ever, She smashed Askier's eye with the corner of her book and while the eye did heal eventually, it left a small scar beneath, and an awesome running gag for the rest of the event rps lol. 2 - Scar on the left half of his gut. Askier got this from when he fell off a chocobo onto a bottle of whiskey and it broke, slicing him up. Speaking of slicing... 3 - 60 percent of his body from the waiste down is covered in scars of various sorts. Askier was capture by the character, The Crimson Mountian, and tortured mercilessly with lots of various tools including getting partially flayed...was a darrrrrrrrk rp session. 4 - Has an arrow scar in his chest from when KAhn'a Od'hilkas shot him with an arrow....asshole 5 - Has two bullet hole scars in his gut from his encounters with Adin Adonis and Jin'li Epinoch.

Ohhh lets start with Jin'li here. - Murder - Through his various schemes he has killed thousands of people. - Lying - He tells lies easily to manipulate people. - Blackmail - He often uses people's loved ones and secrets to force them to do things they normally wouldn't Now on to Askier....oh boy....I'll just use generics of one example of each cause there are a lot for each one. - Murder - Several times, normally though was back when he was working for Adin. Killed a few people in bar fights as well. - Anger - I put this one down because this is out of control a good amount of the time and has led to many explosions and violent actions. - Pride - Yeah he honestly believes he is right about almost anything and hates admiting he is wrong. - Theft - Askier has stolen many things, including a few hearts ;p . - Lying - He has often lied to trick people, like Delial during his first operation in Ul'dah. - Destruction of things - The miqo'te builds bombs for a living and has a temper...seriously this has to go in here, the man is a walking natural disaster waiting to happen. - Betrayal - He is a deserter from the Garlean Army, and has stabbed a few employers in the back, or planned to, like the time he planned on gutting Natalie McBeef but Oscare beat him to it.

But Jin'li is trying so hard to help people! "Sir, according to witnesses, the miqo'te was calling his gunblade Kindness." "The same gunblade that was used on our victim here?" "Seems so sir." "Then, I guess you could say.... he killed them with Kindness." YYYEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Hmmmm things my characters suck at but try to be good at... How about being decent human beings? -.- Lol

Hmmm, there are a ton in this game cause, at least in my experience, the player base is WWWAAAAYYYY less toxic than most games I've played. Few examples - - When people in my FC just randomly give me stuff they can craft cause they can even though I will NEVER be able to pay them back (Ragnar and KAhn'a have both given me many free hand outs >.< Thank you two!) - Grieving Hound once gave me all the gil for a room just because we played together. - People grinding with me for hours to help me level just cause. Nicest thing I've done? - helping Osric as a tank for his ninja class. - Helping Osric be awesome by standing around and let my natural awesomness rub off on him.

((Oh knowing he way things happen with plots and all, I'm certain there wil be more soon enough )) Jin’li watched as the large man crumpled to the floor, his blood spilling out. The squawking of the crows intensified but the stoic miqo’te did not react. His black eyes were fixed on the dead form. As Jin’li stared, the air around the corpse shimmered and grew dark. For a moment it was as if the veil of life was pulling back and his black orbs were looking into what lay beyond death. He sensed the soul of Franz, sensed it being dragged away into the next step, the eternal binding of the world’s falsely constructed order. But then, for a brief moment, there was a sensation in the veil, a separation and Jin’li felt a pulling away. The miqo’te had no way of knowing if Franz had been successful in denying the enslavement death had sought to bring him into, but there had been an attempt at resistance, an attempt at true freedom and the miqo’te’s expressionless face split into the smallest of smiles for a brief second before it returned to its blank state. The large crow had hopped onto the dead man’s back. Jin’li was slowly pulling the hood of his coat back over his head and he picked up the mask once more. The runt slowly limped for the door, the porcelain mask sliding down his face and cutting him off from the world. The raven inside the room cawed. Jin’li paused. He looked down at the bird and the bleeding corpse on the floor. He nodded at the crow as his free hand took the door knob. “Leave nothing to find.” Jin’li said as he closed the door. He heard the sounds of flapping wings as the birds burst into the room and began feasting on the dead Franz’s remains like a pack of ravenous hounds. Jin’li left them to their feasting. As the miqo’te neared the stares, a worried face peeked out of one of the other rooms. The face was white with fright. IT was obvious the man had heard the gunshots. Calmly, Jin’li produced a bag of coins and tossed them at the door. “Gil for a stilled tongue, seems fair, yes?” The man nodded, seized the coins and slammed the door, looking it behind him. Jin’li continued his walk, his can clicking.

I see your magic fire and raise you one mega-ton bomb. . .your move bro. Yes leverage. Thats a fun name of Kanaria with an explosive collar on her neck. . .

Not always true. This. Some authority figures are little more than officially-sanctioned Joe Schmoes who don't always have that luxury. See: run-of-the-mill swordsman vs. thaumaturge. "Mr. Mage, please cooperate. Uh, pardon, ser, I didn't catch that. You'll set me on fire and kill me where I stand if I interfere? Uh...." I see your magic fire and raise you one mega-ton bomb. . .your move bro.

Jin'li felt the massive hyur shove him backwards. The runt backpeddled wildly but was saved from tumbling to the floor in a wild sprawl be his cane, which he used as a third plant point to regain his footing. The Garlean's black eyes swivled at Franz and saw the blood rushing out. There was no emotion on Jin'i's face as he saw Franz's blood and calculated the severity of the wound. There was no joy in this, nor regret. Only a simple action and to Jin'li killing was like taking a breath. Automated and manditory. The raven began shreiking excitedly, its red eyes fixed at Franz as it hopped around. A screaching sound was heard and more ravens began to gather at the window, their glowing red eyes fixed on the bleeding man as their talons and claws slashed and scratched the glass. In unison the birds were cawing out one word: "Kill! Kill! Kill!" Jin'li heafted the gunblade again and aimed it at Franz's chest again. He pulled the hammer back. Blood dripped from the silver blade. As the drops fell, the raven on the desk grew more excited and suddenly the bird flew forward and seized a drop of blood in its beack, its cry crowing louder. "If death is not freedom, how could this one stand here now to bestow the gift upon you? Why else would this one want to kill you unless it was a kindnes?" came Jin'li's flat reply to Franz's question. Jin'li watched as the large man readied himself to escape. Jin'li's finger gently squeezed the tigger and the muzzle-flash illuminated the room as the bullet spun out in an attempt to hit Franz before the hyur escaped.

I'll be honest, a brawl in the Quicksand would probably be the most excitingthing thats happened in that place in...well, a long time. Personally, I'm not a fan of tavern rp. That said though, while it certainly wouldn't be particularly out of place,good luck trying to orchestrate the fight when you have walls of posts flying around and people getting involved left and right to some degree. Honestly the logistics of keeping the rp organized seems like the biggest issue once the chat box got chocked. But if you feel like you can survive a sea of text, be ready for the arrest.The various law enforcement rpers keep that place pretty secure at all times. But then again, that could be a fun rp in itsown way. Best of luck whatever you endup doing. Random events are always enjoyable.

But ...but...Kiht Senpai! I can't be your Senpai because you are my Senpai! Without you...who will teach me all things Keeper?! Well that is quite the conundrum... Heh, at least we notice each other, right? :lol: Lol I will never complain to you Kiht senapi!

"Your powers of observation serve you well, Master Renatus. It isn't living and that is the entire point. This is transcending the thing you call life." Jin'li's face was blank and he was completely unaware that he had just made a slightly pointed jab. In fact he was totally unaware of how insane he sounded. In his broken little miqo'te head, the concepts of overcoming the mortal condition and seizing one's right as an equal to the gods seemed totally reasonable. Jin'li flicked his tail as Franz made to leave and the miqo'te's hand rose from the table, the fingers flexing themselves. "Until you cast off the chains that bind, you will never be free and, therefore, you will always be weak. How easy it would be for this one to find the ones you care about. It would only require watching from the shadows long enough to know who they are. Then I-" Jin'li made a horrible coughing noise when using the words 'I' but continued as if nothing had happened. "Would take them and make you dance because if you didn't I would hurt them. That is not freedom. That is no way to live. However, You showed me a kindness. And while you certainly have the right to leave this place, I-" Again with the weird noise when using the first person. What a weird cat. "Have the right to act as well. Please understand that the kindness I am about to bestow on you is not punishment, its liberation. If you are strong enough, you will thank me for this. Please understand I do this because I like you."" Jin'li's hand dashed beneath his coat like a snake and jerked back out. The miqo'te fully extended his arm and leveled his gunblade dagger directly at Franz's chest. The weapon shone silver in the room's light and the bird on the desk cawed loudly in excitement as its red eyes peered at Franz. "If this one may be so bold as to add, Master Franz," Jin'lil's words were slow and even; his face devoid of any emotion as he pulled the hammer back on the weapon and the chamber rotated to align the bullet to the barrel. "no matter the outcome, would you kindly take a shower? You stink of Crow." Jin'li gently squeezed the trigger and sent his shot down range.

But ...but...Kiht Senpai! I can't be your Senpai because you are my Senpai! Without you...who will teach me all things Keeper?!

Jin'li placed the mask gently on the desk before him and trailed his gloved fingers along it as he gazed at Franz with a dead-pan expression on his face as he spoke in his monotone pitch. "Ah the present condition is a testiment of sheer determination to defy the exhisting order, is it not? The one called Atrium was at war within itself. Her soul and mine did not mesh harmoniously after the death of the Voice. This one was expelled from the body. At that point this one's soul managed to sliver along the veil and defy death by slipping back into this world and used the raw substances to rebuild this shell because the Voice had shown this one the ways of taking from death." Jin'li pulled his hand off the mask as a raven flew into the room and fluttered down onto the desk. The bird fixed Franz with its glowing red eyes and cried out several times. Jin'li ignored the bird. "And now this one stands before you. Not a crow. Just myself. And no matter which name I choose to use, that is a fact even death cannot take from me." Jin'li seated himself in a deep, high backed leather chair. He pulled a parchment from the drawer in the top left of the desk and places it on the surface of the table. There was scribbled writing on it but Jin'li kept his hand.covering the parchment. "This one exhists having defied even death. But this one has not forgotten the kindness you wrought upon it. In exchange for your assistance with my planned matters, this one would seek to liberate you from your own chains so that you might share in the ascention.of utter freedom this one enjoys; only if you would be interested of course.".

Jin'li placed the mask gently on the desk before him and trailed his gloved fingers along it as he gazed at Franz with a dead-pan expression on his face as he spoke in his monotone pitch. "Ah the present condition is a testiment of sheer determination to defy the exhisting order, is it not? The one called Atrium was at war within itself. Her soul and mine did not mesh harmoniously after the death of the Voice. This one was expelled from the body. At that point this one's soul managed to sliver along the veil and defy death by slipping back into this world and used the raw substances to rebuild this shell because the Voice had shown this one the ways of taking from death." Jin'li pulled his hand off the mask as a raven flew into the room and fluttered down onto the desk. The bird fixed Franz with its glowing red eyes and cried out several times. Jin'li ignored the bird. "And now this one stands before you. Not a crow. Just myself. And no matter which name I choose to use, that is a fact even death cannot take from me." Jin'li seated himself in a deep, high backed leather chair. He pulled a parchment from the drawer in the top left of the desk and places it on the surface of the table. There was scribbled writing on it but Jin'li kept his hand.covering the parchment. "This one exhista having defied even death. But this one has not forgotten the kindness you wrought upon it. In exchange for your assistance with my planned matters, this one would seek to liberate you from your own chains so that you might share in the ascention.of utter freedom this one enjoys; only if you would be interested of course.".

"Ah, your are bound by your past to a degree of some severity, that much is evident. The sense of morality, a self imposed sense of chains, hinders you. You use words like atonement, wrong, and better. The truth is no action is good or bad. No person is better or lesser, even the 'gods' so many revere are both defiable and our equal. In truth, ultimately, a person should be free to create their own reality and it is your right to dwell on your past and judge on it with your gaze printed by your view of your morals but living in the past is folly and if you are not careful, your self made chains will bind you tighter than any bind another could ever give you. This lesson is one Trythian Oul knows better than most." Jin'li paused and fixed Franz with a dead-pan stare from behind the mask. "If there is not one thing you would not be willing to cast aside and sacrifice if the need arose, you are not free. Even your own life." Jin'li reached up to the mask on his face with his left hand and removed the hood of his coat with his right. His white hair slipped free as the pointed ears shot up. The mask fell away in the miqo'te's hand to reveal Jin'li's ghostly white face and his emotionless stare. "For there is freedom in death. Good day Master Renatus. This one does hope my revelation is not to rude." Jin'li bowed and waited for Franz to reply.

"You may most certainly inquire, Mister Renatus. It would be rude of me to deny you such an answer." Jin'li walked over to a desk and stood behind it, the polished, mahogany price of furniture positioned between them. "It is in knowing what binds another that permits us both the ability to control them or, to free them. And currently, Trythian Oul is in the business of freeing those worthy of such a thing. But for a fee of course. A business transaction in the purest sense." Jin'li's onyx eyes stared at Franz with an emotionless intensity. The mechanisms that compiled Jin'li's mind were turning. He had not forgotten the kindness Franz had shown him before he died on the bridge. He had not forgotten the hyur's willingness to aid him when he gained nothing in return. Jin'li was compelled by a genuine desireto assist Franz with his bindings while also having the Garlean assist Jin'li with his own plans. "Trythian Oul is aware of a kindness you wrought upon a wretched soul and it is this act that has caused him to bring you here. Your liberation from those things or persons that hold your chains in exchange for your help. Gil will also be provided for your services as well."

Jin'li stood at the aide of the Drowning Wench. He had placed a mask on his face, a blank white porcelain thing and over his hair he had pulled up the hood of his black coat to hide his white hair. His white tail was tucked beneath his coat and his ears were lain flat atop his head to hide his telltale marks of a miqo'te. His black eyes watched for signs of Franz. Jin'li had been standing there for a long time in silence. But his patience was at last rewarded as he saw the visage of the tall hyur entering the room. Jin'li waited quietly for a few moments as he shifted his weight on his cane and slowly made his way across the room, making a crescent arc to where Franz stood. Jin'li came up along side him at last and, with a simple nod of his head, addressed the massive Garlean male. "Mister Renatus, would you kindly follow me to your meeting with Trythian Oul? He prefers to be away from crowds." Without waiting for a response, and trusting Franz would follow, Jin'li turned and slowly made his way to the stairs and up them. They had a good number of flights to ascend but Jin'li moved briskly despite his limp. At the apex of their climb Jin'li led Franz to the door of his room and unlocked it. Jin'li then hobbled inside, leaving the door open for Franz to follow. "Firstly, it was kind of you to come. Now then, Mister Renatus, can Trythian Oul offer you a drink or bread while you answer the most important question that will be asked today: what in this world prevents you from being free?"