Coatleque

I'm scared...

Who would get to kill Coatleque? I'm a sucker for unexpected relationship twists. Since I only have one character, here are a few potential ends. Roen Deneith: Who would have seen it coming? Killed by one of her close friends. Especially after she worked so hard to acquit her and Gharen. Another Sworn: Anelia, Erik, or any other Sworn really. These are the people she trusts at her back. Berrod Armstrong: She finally works up enough nerve to enter the Grindstone and has to face off against Berrod. Her death is a complete accident, but what a way to go. ---------- TOO OBVIOUS: Natalie Mcbeef: The walking disaster. I'd imagine this would be due to some freak accident during some mission. Osric Melkire: If she got in his way, I have no doubt he'd take her out. Warren Castille: After recent events, them turning on each other wouldn't have the same shock value.

Sastra is going nuts! All I've done the past night is strip-mine under my island. Also, I have a ton of wheat production for bread if anyone needs cheap food. Next project, an auto-forge to pump out cheap bricks.

My cats do that all the time. One of them wants pets. The other wants food. One of them will sit on my lap and head-butt my mouse hand till I pay attention to her.

You mean 12am EDT?

Spoiler alert, her sword is fake. She's never even learned to swing it

Eh, I was merely extrapolating the why of it. Not saying I agree. For my part I do hope I see a lot of thieves being role-played. I don't typically play that class myself. Also, the term "rogue" already encompasses "pirate" within its meaning. But now that there will be a ninja class and it is established that there are pirates in Limsa, I foresee a "ninja vs pirate" battle in the future.

The original concept class was "Thief" in just about every RPG on the market. But that name has the negative connotation of someone who steals private property. Obviously a bad thing in a capitalistic society. Therefore the Politically Correct term is now "Rogue" which is more of a scoundrel and less of an out-right criminal.

Coatleque tilted her head as she heard P'azih's tale in her other ear. For some reason the few short sentences wove together into some elaborate and romanticized story in her mind. "Now tha'... tha's what Ah need! The more Ah hear o' ye Keepers an' yer tr̃aditions, th' more'n Ah think ye have th' right o' it." She blinked and looked away. "Ah should just find meself a nooun an' be done with all o' this."

Personally I find Otto's character to be refreshing in his own sort of way. He has been built up as a very wealthy man in Ul'dah with ties to the Syndicate. Not only in character, but OOC he has the gil to back that story up as well. I could see him eventually replacing of them (the Syndicate) if that were even possible. I had no problem with the girl showing up. I'm so used to seeing Otto surrounded by his lovely assistants and employees that it just seemed business as usual. Just so long as they remember to act professionally when he is conducting business. The respect they show him just adds to his overall character and believability.

She shook her head and almost fell out of her chair from the dizziness. Holding onto the lip of the table for support, she peered at Franz for a moment till his three faces became one again. "Nae! Ah came after tha, though Ah suppose tha' means me pa did before, eh?" She snerked at her own wit. "We were remote enough tha' th' Empire din'nae caer 'bout us." She sighed. "Ah was forceably relocated aftar Dalamund, though." Despite her objections, she was clearly drunk now based on her crass attempt at humour and openness over past events. She didn't seem to care who overheard.

Pfff, Highlander problems.

Coatleque gave an absent nod to P'azih. "Aye, Ah'm nae complainin'. We caen always use more cannon fodder̃ fer shoar." Turning to Franz she almost beamed. "Ah be from Gyr Abania o' course! My village was just along th' southern tip on th' beach. Though Ah'm nae a refugee!"

Mining obsidian is cheating. You get more satisfaction from lava/water buckets and attempting to "cast" your portal out of a cobblestone mould!

I work in IT doing trouble tickets remotely. Since I've started having Coatleque's accent show through more lately, I've had to make a conscience effort not to enter ticket notes with Scottish dialect.

Coatleque sat on the edge of the bed in her room at the Hourglass, he head in her hands. What was she doing this past seven-day? Everything was falling apart since Tane's murder. Warren despised her, her shield brothers were avoiding her, new recruits seemed to be flooding the doors and nobody was keeping them in line. And now there were at least three days she could not even remember. She had glanced over Natalie's report without even reading it yesterday. For some reason she just had no care or ambition as of late. Then Ser Sadowyn had told her about the prisoner's execution. They sat across from each other at a table in the lounge as Natalie explained her actions over the Linkpearl. "I need you to bring them both back alive.", Anelia had told Crofte. "If Roen gets in your way, you will have to arrest her to. She is now complicit in hiding the location of a known smuggler and pirate." The Knight could not look her superior in the eye. "Aye, Ser." was all she could reply. She reached out and picked up the small box from the table next to her bed. She opened and closed it a few times, thinking quietly to herself. The contents were still empty, her prior letter had as of yet been unanswered. She looked up to the now half-empty bottle of whiskey on the dresser across the room and shook her head. This trip would be made alone. For the first time in a long while she was looking forward to leaving Thanalan behind.

And not a horse to be found! Once I finish terra-forming my little marsh island, I'll build a road/bridge over to you guys.

*tsk* You people and your bridges. I just use a boat. Till I run into a lilly pad and it breaks :frustrated: We found a carrot last night. And borrowed a pumpkin for breeding purposes. Of pumpkins, that is.

She snickered to herself. "Anotha bloody recr̃uit. Adventurer? Or fr̃esh out'a th' Blood Sands? Och, it makes nae differ̃ance, so long as ye know th' sharp end fr̃om the handle." Her hand absently raised her glass back to take another drink but nothing came out. Shrugging, she set it back down and blinked. "There seems tae be more 'an more o' ye since tha' last attack on th' city." Turning back to Berrod, she shook her head. "Nae, ye just listen funny."

Coatleque waved her hand dismissively at P'azih. "Free Paladins are nae part o' th' Order. Her Gr̃ace thanks ye fer ye service o' course." For good or ill she did not notice the bottle disappear. Her attention turned back to Franz's question. "An' Ah be fine! Ah've been thr̃ough worse, fer shoar. Soon there'll be another crazed Garlean, or some murderer, or some as such tha'll thr̃eaten th' security o' her Gr̃ace again. Then Ah'll remember why Ah ne'er bother̃ed with this tr̃ipe tae begin with!"

"Och, fine! Berr̃oad then!" She rolled her eyes and looked away with obvious disgust at being corrected yet again.

She blinked twice while just looking at this Miqo'te, half expecting his head to simply twist itself off his body in some bizzare twist of fate. "Cr̃ofte. Ser Cr̃ofte, of her Reslplen... och, ne'er mind. Loat o' good Ah've been the past sevenday." She shot a glance to the bottle. "Aye, he liked em str̃on' ah think." Her neck craned momentarily to the newcomer. "Maester Fr̃anz. Ah dae suppose ye've come tae join us as well? An' Maester Armstr̃ong, Ah din'nae suppose Mistress Momodi knows yer stealin 'er bedding now?"

The Knight leaned forward again and downed another shot. She shook her head briefly while muttering something to herself about drinking alone. This was no place to cause a scene, however, so she relented. "Och, fine. T'ere's plenty o' room it would seem." She moved to rub her forehead but had seemingly forgotten she was still in uniform. Her head and hand both recoiled at the cold touch and she blinked for a moment at her gauntlet before sighing. Looking back towards the bottle on the table, she pushed it towards the center for all to reach. "Am doan with this. Have at it if ye like cinnamon." With that she leaned back once more with a huff and crossed her arms and legs.

Coatleque shook her head for a moment. "Maester Ar̃mstrong? I hadn't r̃ealized ye work her̃e now!" Her gazed moved on to the other man as well. "An I'm nae dr̃unk!", she said with a nod. She leaned forward and poured another shot from the bottle. She had purchased it for the man on that previous night, but he hadn't even open it before his... accident. "It's nae what it looks like!" She leaned back in the chair once more.

She continued to stair at the chair across from her for a moment before her Sultansworn training told her there were eyes burning holes into her hair. Not wanting to risk damage to her pony-tail she slowly turned her gaze right and up to see a large bundle of blankets hovering before her. "Laundr̃y day already, Miss Aya?", she remarked not really sure who she was addressing. She could think of no one else that may be wandering off with the inn's blankets.