Coatleque

I can echo the previous sentiments. A more simplistic way of seeing it is that people who support the Syndicate would favor Democracy, with all of its failings and corruption. The main fault here is that cleansing a corrupt democracy is a slow and painful process without an outright rebellion. Those who support the Sultana would favor Monarchy. The main fault there is that when one person holds absolute authority, you have a 50/50 chance of them being utterly evil, or completely just. But changing things always boils down to just one person, which can be removed with a single vial of poison rather than half the country uprising. The power struggle between the two is what makes for a great story, and consequently good RP. But yes, there are people on both sides who can be viewed as both good or bad. From Crofte's own interaction with Kale, she's already quite surprised with his mannerisms.

Coatleque had stayed with them for the night. The frightened mother and her daughter. Because of Jin'li, they were all now in the same situation. She had assured them as best she could that she would help them as soon as she as able. That her forced hospitality would be repaid in double to this madman. Her sleep was fitful and uneasy that night. She had no dreams, but she could hear. The voices and cries of her friends, shield brothers and sisters. The clashing of steel against steel. She heard everything, but saw nothing, as if her body were hovering over the scene playing out below. Waking early, she sat on the edge of the bed. She retrieved the pressed flower that had been lain on the nightstand the previous night. A tear rolled down her cheek as she felt its petals once more. Her course was now clear. She would not serve two masters, and her life was already pledged to one of them. The madness must end... tonight. Yes, tonight... her oath would be fulfilled.

[align=center]"My course has been set, my fate is sealed."[/align] [align=center]"For king and country, I shall not falter."[/align] [align=center]"This ends for me, tonight."[/align] [align=center][/align]

Hmm... can't say I've had those kind of problems yet.

*sniff* it seems like so long ago... I miss that pillar.

Oh come on, you have a Sultanswarm available. USE IT!

Crofte will be there as a Sultansworn, of course! Oh, no wait... ... or will she?

[align=center]***[/align] She did not know how much time had passed in the darkness. The was no feeling, sound, or emotion. She had watched him die from afar, and the next thing she knew was the sound of a wagon. The jostling around of hard wooden wheels careening across every stone. She became aware that she was laying down, half on her side, half on her front with her face pressed against the floor. Her legs were curled together and knees pressed almost to her stomach. Her hands were still bound from behind with coarse rope that itched and bit into her skin. And there were... others. An uncomfortable feeling of closeness hung in the air. Her eyes slowly opened, greeted with the view of someone's legs as they sat across from her barely a foot away. Suddenly alarmed she tried to raise herself but there was no room to maneuver. "She's awake, finally. Help the poor dear up.", said the woman sitting across from her. Hands reached out and grabbed her from the side, pulling her into an upright position with her back against the side of the wagon cage. She quickly folded her legs together so as not to fall back over and tried resting her head against the bars. Another sudden stone in the road taught her that was a bad idea as her vision blurred momentarily. Still sore from when she was taken before. She looked around now to better survey her surroundings. She was in a wagon cage. Wooden, with iron bars surrounding all sides. A door with a very heavy and thick looking lock at the rear of the wagon. There were others with her, all women, all in rags and covered in grime. None of them were familiar to her. It was also evening, though she could not tell what bell. The only light was offered from a dim lantern on the far outside corner of the wagon, hung by the driver to see forward. There were other wagons as well before and behind, and armed men who walked along side of the train. The woman across from her spoke again. "What's your name dear?" "F-f-florence.", she managed to stammer. There were three hard bangs on the side of the cart that made them all jump. "Oi! Quiet in there!. Property speaks only when spoken to!" The command elicited a series of crude laughs from the other men walking along the sides. "P-property?", she looked up to the others but nobody responded. The rest of the ride was spent in silent fear of what the day would bring.

The cloaked figure stood silently at the door of the Quicksand. Other adventurers pushed past her to the side without a single word or even a glance. She hesitated, unsure whether to enter or not. To her left, S'honji stood having a rather annoying conversation with someone. For a brief moment she wished everyone would just disappear so she could stay unnoticed. Then she saw her target across the room standing in his usual place. Coatleque breathed a sigh of relief to herself. He was there. Alive. Seemingly unphased. She had watched him take a bullet not two days prior in a scene that conjured up images of her own past once again. But there he was engaged in conversation with someone. This would not be the place to approach him. Not like this. So she waited. Withdrew and sat on a bench for a good hour or so, with cloak and cowl drawn tight for concealment. Finally he left. And she trailed him from a distance. Ducking and weaving through the city crowd. Pretending to shop at various stalls when he stopped. Hiding behind corners when available. She followed him to the Goblet. He stopped at the Brimming Heart and looked off towards the distance. This would have to be it, she decided. Now or never. Cautiously she approached him from behind. Reaching out slowly she touched his shoulder just as he turned to face her. Their eyes locked. His expression was one of complete shock at seeing her present. Quickly her other hand raised to her mouth in an expression of silence. He nodded in compliance. After a few more quiet and awkward moments, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around his, pressing against him. Unsure of what to do he returned her embrace, leaning his head to rest against her hood. All she could do was sigh contentedly. But no, she had a purpose, a reason for this meeting. Duty must come first. She pulled herself away from him, slowly, letting her hands slide down his arm. Reaching his hand she deposited something in it. A note. An urgent message. She regarded him with a worried expression. He took the note and read it quickly, then roughly crumpled it and pocketed it away with a growl. Their eyes met one last time as she turned to leave, pulling her cowl low as she disappeared into the darkness of the night.

If our characters are anything like the group of adventurers in the "End of an Era" video, we'd just stand there like a deer in the headlights as the world crumbled around us and everyone else fled, just to be saved at the last minute by someone else.

Dem redheads. Am I right Roen? In all seriousness though, I wouldn't overly worry about race makeup in the organization. The whole game seems to be fairly... fair... about that sort of thing, if that makes sense. The Commander of the Maelstrom is a Miqo'te if I remember correctly.

I think you've described the majority of us, really.

This, most likely. I've seen all races in Ul'dah as Blades, Flames, and Sworn. But Ul'dah has probably the largest mixed race population of all the city states. Ishgard has probably the lowest. As for rankings, if they are akin to the Brass Blades it is probably a sort of police-force style of ranks. Officer, Sergeant, Lieutenant, Captain. Unless you find one in-game referred to as a higher rank than Captain. The Sultansworn are a bit different in that they have no real ranks from what I gather. They are led by the Captain, and there is one other "Grand Master" which is probably akin to a Sergeant Major.

So... ... tonight then? A Balmung drunken brawl?

I would do a general law enforcement LS first, and if you get a LOT of Yellowjackets, consider a secondary for security reasons. At least with the two combined you will get a better sense of who is interested or not overall.

You're definitely not alone. At no time is my character seeking out any type of romantic involvement. If it happens in the course of RP then I just go with the flow, but it's not the top priority as soon as I log in.

*cough*

Best times are very early morning, like around 5am - 9am Eastern time.

Is there any way we could maybe donate a few "gil" here or there to help pay for the hosting? I know you haven't asked, and to to date I haven't seen a button for it, but at least you can know it's being thought of!

Someone needs to draw or photoshop a picture of Nat with this for her head now.

Knowing how small a McDonalds cheeseburger is, I'd say these numbers have been surprisingly accurate. Men can certainly stuff down more then women. And I've eaten four myself and not been full yet. Jancis knows someone who ate 13 in one sitting.

Well, if I go off myself I'd have to say maybe 8 to 10. As a highlander female in shape, I'd say Crofte's is 4.

Awesome... time for me to shatter all preconceived notions of who Crofte actually is...

[align=center]***[/align] The man kicked over a wooden board and scanned the sands where it had lain. Seeing nothing of interest he continued his way down the beach. A few fulms to his right was another man standing on the fallen side of what used to be a house. He propped his foot up onto a stone and rested his hand on the hilt of his gunblade. "You sure this place wasn't abandoned?" There was a grunt from the other man. "Cadmus don't care. He's what we call... an opportunist." "S'that why he took us into this little group o' his?" The man standing on the planks knelt down to peer through the side of a broken window on the ground. Seeing something, he thrust the haft of his spear down to break the remaining glass and push the shards into the sand. Retrieving what looked like a silver chain he stood and looked back to the other man. "Aye, I suppose even deserters have their use. Just remember who's in charge now. Oh yes, and that the Empire pays handsomely for the return of their cowards." That last jab elicited a scowl from the first man. What did this pirate know? He had been at the plains three days prior. He had seen the devastation first hand. He was not the only one who ran, but he was one of the few who were lucky for it. Him and two others had regrouped after the firestorm. With their entire platoon either dead or dispersed through Eorzea now, they were trying to make their way back to Garlemald. On the borders of Gyn Abania they had come across a bandit group and decided to desert. There was no future for them in the army now that the White Raven was gone. "Aww, did I upset the new meat? Just keep the boss happy and you've got no'ttn to worry about." The group continued onward scanning the ground for any salvage of value. None of them noticed the man coming down the road till he was almost at the beach. The Garlean was a little apart from the rest of them now, further along enough to hear the man calling to them. "What in the bloody hells... ?" It may have been his own fear of being discovered. Or perhaps pent up stress from the prior few days. There was a single shot that rang out suddenly and echoed across the hills. And then a scream. A blood-curdling cry from the end of the road between the hills that caused even the birds to take flight. Then more yelling... "Scrotus, get them! GET THEM!" It was the boss, from the other side of the village. All of them were now running towards the road. It didn't take long for Cadmus to realize what was going on. There really were survivors here, and now they had been seen. He caught up to the new recruit who was just standing over the man he had killed. Cadmus spun the man around roughly and grabbed the blade from his hand. He was unable to defend as he was still in shock over the whole incident. But now his own blade was forced against his neck as the boss backed him against a tree. "We do NOT kill potential sales... DO you understand that?!", he barked. The Garlean remained silent, staring back with a blank expression. "Incompetent lout!", Cadmus snarled back at him as he released the man. He took two steps away then leveled the blade with the man's chest. He pulled the trigger without a second thought. [align=center]***[/align] They all saw what happened at the edge of the beach. The shot echoed through the hills, and John's body crumpled to the ground. It was then that Florence had cried out. "NO! JOHN!" She tried to leap forward, to run towards him, but sixteen hands had held her back. She fought, struggled, cried out. "Let me go! Let me go!", but they would not relent. "Hush child!" "They'll hear you!" It was already too late of course. As the men began ascending the road the other villagers also turned tail to run. Once she was released, she fell to her knees. She couldn't move, couldn't go to him. He was so far away now, and she could do nothing. "Stupid girl, you've killed us all!" As the men reached the summit, the larger one with a spear who seemed to be in charge barked the order. "Bind her! Find the rest. You know what to do." Florence felt her hands pulled behind her as rough ropes were used to tie them together. She did not care. Her gaze was fixated on the lifeless body of her love at the end of the road. Everything else was a blur behind her tear stained vision. Something hit the back of her head, followed by darkness.

And that's what makes relationships work.