Nero

The Au Ra leaned closer towards Edda as he listened intently, soaking in every detail and filing them away. There were many names to keep track of. Coerthas. Ishgard. Dravania. Sharlayan. Dravania was the home of dragons, fighting the inhabitants of Coerthas. Sharlayan was an abandoned settlement. Many of the things described were consistent with the information he'd he'd received; conflict between swords and wings among a sea of mist, with blood upon the slopes of snow and mountains. The Tsenkhai's interpretations were vague--such was the frustrating nature of the Correspondence--but gave enough detail that Kasrjin knew that he was moving in the correct direction. Holy See...the second word he didn't know, but the first word implied strong religious tradition. The land is "ruled by beliefs", so likely they were ruled by tenants and tradition. His frown, which was quickly becoming trademark, reappeared on his face as he noticed something missing from her description: the sea of mist mentioned in the Correspondence. Whether this was a metaphor or a literal location was unknown, and that distinction would be very important. He was compelled to seek the conflict of swords and wings, which was an obvious reference to the war between Ishgard and Dravania. The location of such a thing to fulfill his objective, however, was less specific, and would thus prove more elusive. He debated asking, his face scrunched in contemplation, but in the end decided against it. The nature of Kasrjin's task did not necessarily need to remain secret, but it would be more prudent to approach his undertaking one task at a time. Edda would surely be on hand to answer more of his inquiries should he have need of her. Thus, the first goal was to obtain more information on the conflict of swords and wings, and how exactly it related to what he was seeking. Kasrjin nodded to no one in particular, satisfied. It was a short, terse conversation, but it had proven fruitful in its own way. He leaned back and placed himself back on the boulder he had originally been resting upon when suddenly, a thought struck him. Was this trading of information, technically, a transaction of services? Perhaps such questioning was considered a commodity and he was expected to make an equitable trade. That would explain the curious looks he had been receiving from Edda, yet she had made no mention of it. The Au Ra fidgeted, his thoughts clearly represented in his expression, before speaking again. "I am to answer inquiries you possess," he said flatly, stiffly, the words and sentence structure clearly not familiar to him. It was more of a statement, almost a demand given his rough timbre, and he found himself hoping he'd handled that particular circumstance at least adequately.

I originally chose Midlander as a flex pick because I had no idea what kind of character I was going to write when I joined. Then things happened. Au Ra, on the other hand, I chose for a few reasons. They were visually appealing with good animation, and were more exotic than a normal human (and are now more prevalent in-game than Miqo'te if anecdotal experiences, my own include, manage to substitute for statistics). Lore wise, I wanted to write a character with an innate foreign-ness so as to explore certain themes while I roleplayed. So Xaela naturally fit into that quite well; also because writing my own tribe has been terrific fun as far as filling in the details went. actually i just wanted to play a horny character don't tell anyone heh it's a pun

Illegal? Then he had broken some manner of principle. Kasrjin had been wandering the forest for several suns unmolested until he had hunted that doe, and lacking in the grace of the Nayantai, he'd made a particularly unsubtle and clumsy affair of it. If the masked warriors, these Wailers, were protectors of the forest, then they kept strict watch over it and its denizens. Seeing an intruder violate its charge would certainly provoke them into attack. Though the doe itself as an individual was relatively insignificant, a lapse in protocol would have been unacceptable, especially if their duty to guard the forest was not self-appointed and placed upon them by a higher authority. The Xaela nodded with his new comprehension of the circumstances. The next set of answers, however, brought nothing but more confusion. What was the purpose of giving one's name prior to making requests if the circumstances did not require specific differentiation between individuals, such as a transaction between two people? To excuse was to forgive or justify. Was it custom to ask forgiveness before a wrong had been committed? Or was it instead a cultural concept that making requests was inherently a malicious act, and thus it was considered an act of immorality that demanded absolvement before it had even taken place? What did the word "please" mean, and in which contexts would it be appropriate? Express gratitude? Bow? Kasrjin's eyes nearly crossed from attempting to process all of this information at once when the female broke out into a smile. It is not as if the concept of such a demeanor was alien to him, but it was not something he was used to. His mouth creased into a rough imitation; the horrid amalgamation of something of a scowl, a smirk, and preparing to open one's mouth to bite the head off of an entire fish. He maintained this for less than a second before dropping it, feeling foolish. "Strange," he murmured, scratching a hand through jet black locks, the motion causing a shake from the streaks of emerald green that ran themselves through his hair. For the third time in a relatively short interval, the Xaela made a fervent wish for Tsanai to make sense of all of these functionless platitudes that the western continent seemed to operate on. It was not as if the Xaela had never smiled or was unused to it, but the act of deliberately forcing it in order to adhere to social conventions seemed incredibly impractical. It seemed best to change the subject of inquiry. No doubt that Kasrjin would have to make extensive time later in order to properly prepare himself for study in these principles. "What is this destination, Coerthas? What is not permitted within such an area?" Kasrjin's question sounded somewhat more eager, having shifted back onto information relevant to his task. He wanted to ask for details, but if he asked for its size he would receive that information in units that did not translate properly to him. "Describe to me the threats, whether they be in the form of storms or beasts. What manner of settlements are present?"

The Xaela eyed the female curiously as she placed a mysterious bottle in front of him before withdrawing a similar vessel and downing the contents easily. Kasrjin wasn't entirely certain of what to make of the display or the offering he had been given. Was he expected to imitate the gesture? Was the bottle placed at its arbitrary location for a reason, or was it intended to be an offering to him? If the female had meant to give the bottle to him, it stood to reason--at least to Kasrjin, to whom the word "subtlety" was often spelled with six numbers and a hyphen--that she would have simply handed it to him instead. It seemed that the female would be more conducive towards answering his questions about social customs, but it was impossible for him to gauge what was and was not an appropriate occasion to ask such questions. Judging by the way her facial features creased, it seemed she was still apprehensive about him, which was not an unreasonable reaction. The female retreated to her bird. "I will not be redeeming your services right away - if I do at all," she said. Kasrjin frowned. The purpose of the transaction was to trade one service for another, but it seemed the female had little intention of completing the trade. It seemed there were many more nuances to the concept that he was unaware about. "If I have need of you in the future, I will seek you out. There is a single, solitary person I would have... removed, before they can do more harm. I doubt there will be much of a fight, however." The female's expressions following her statement were peculiar; she chuckled before being overcome by an irrepressible grimace, almost a scowl. The Xaela dismissed the oddity of the sequence. The western continent was vastly different in expressions and interactions. This was simply one of many things that confused him, and it was sure to not be the last. At the inquiry of his name, the response was automatic. "Khadai," the Au Ra said simply. It was extremely unlikely that there were any other Khadai present, or that they would make themselves present in the near future. Thus, giving her his personal identifier would be superfluous and confusing, such was his reasoning. It was with vested interest, however, that Kasrjin witnessed the female conjure a flame from nothing to light a lantern. His eyes widened, and the Xaela shot a glance to the top of her head to see if there was a pointed hat. The lack of one caused him to frown; though he did not sense anything of the sort, and though she did not seem to have prepared the appropriate materials or experience the manifestations, it seemed to be a minor form of the Correspondence. He would have to confirm if it was truly similar or if it was something of a different nature. That would wait after his preliminary inquiries. The female--who adhered to the label of Edda, though if it was a title, a name, or something else was beyond him--looked at him inquisitively, as if expecting his inquiries. Though Kasrjin was still uncertain of the continent's social cues, perhaps this was worth the plunge. He pursed his lips in thought. It would be foolish to assume that the female--that is, Edda--was all that familiar with this "Coerthas" region. She was capable of guiding him there, presumably, but that did not mean she had the requisite knowledge. While it would not hurt to make sure, it would be more efficient to ask questions he felt had a higher chance of being answered as opposed to making queries in subjects that his guide may or may not be familiar with. "I wish to know the masked warriors," he began, adjusting his posture. The cool temperatures were rather comfortable, even with the exposed segments of his garments, and so long as he guarded himself from the wind it seemed to be of little threat. "I was attacked without provocation. I wish to avoid such confrontations in the future." It was with a twinge of regret that he remembered having to discard the venison, for they would not have dried quickly enough for him to store them. "In addition, I wish to gain knowledge of the western continent's practical social conventions. The nuances escape me. I may have cause to interact with others and desire to be self-sufficient in such circumstances." Kasrjin's words felt awkward and out of place to him. He tried to communicate as clearly as possible--once again, Tsanai's absence made itself acutely aware to the Xaela--and his uncertainty in his words manifested itself in a frown upon his face. "I do not wish to cause discomfort upon others, but I require information on subjects. Inform me of the etiquette to perform such a task."

He examined their surroundings as the female rustled through her belongings. The gentle bite of the cold breeze caressing his face brought a sense of familiarity so intimate that it was almost dangerous his mind. This was followed by a brief shake of the head, and a swift, practiced refocusing on the task at hand. The onset of night brought about more inclement conditions, and a mild snowfall had begun, though it was barely noticeable as they had not yet reached a suitable elevation for drifts to build. The Xaela's viridian eyes shimmered as the remaining daylight evaporated to give way to an inky veil. He inhaled deeply, partaking of the air's frigid draught. The outcropping would provide an adequate aegis from the frost and the wind; several boulders seemed to have been strategically placed by a rockslide that had taken place within the last moon, if the displaced dirt near their new campsite was any indication. It was tucked away with a small bluff serving as an overhang, and it seemed that the crag as a whole was relatively isolated enough to be considered mostly safe. They were not terribly far from the road, but if the cloud cover maintained itself, then it would be difficult for one to spot them here. Kasrjin turned his head to note the female having set up a ramshackle structure devised of refined leather, presumably a sort of personal dwelling. He gave a slight nod in approval; the female's slender and unmarred appearance belied one in accepting that she could survive in wilderness, but it seemed that she had obtained adequate preparation. This was to be expected, to an extent. She was familiar with this continent. It would stand to reason that, knowing the geography, she would know what to prepare depending on where she was travelling. The Au Ra himself was rather comfortable despite the wintry conditions, even with the exposure that his tunic failed to cover. The temperatures were not overly harsh, though that was likely to change the farther up they went. Having surveyed the area enough to his liking, Kasrjin retreated into the outcropping, undoing the straps to the harness that held his sword in place. The austere Xaela silently sat, his back against a straight surface that marked one of the boulders facing the road, his position somewhat left to that of the female's personal structure. He placed his sword such that the handle rested against his collarbone, the crossguard of the weapon residing beneath his chin, and the tip sunken into the dirt. It was when Kasrjin settled himself into his position that he noticed the female handling two glass vessels and eyeing him curiously. That was a natural reaction, now that the Au Ra thought about it. He was a stranger to this land, having encountered one another barely a sun ago, and now bartering services such that the he might reach his destination. He merely stared back, unaware of how hard his gaze was upon her. There were many questions he wished to ask the female regarding this land. A part of him desired the presence of Tsanai in this circumstance; she had already traveled to this land once, and she would have surely been capable of sorting through the other female's responses to discern the useful information, in addition to asking the questions that would obtain that information in the first place. There was little subtlety or grace in the Xaela's speech as he spoke suddenly, his deep voice still containing that paradox of smooth gravel. "In what manner will I be fighting for you, and against what or whom?" It had been Kasrjin's mind since they'd enacted the bartering of services. The female had already begun acting in her capacity as his guide, but he had yet to provide an equitable return for such a transaction.

Kasrjin curled the corner of his lip in contemplation. Coerthas. This was where the snow and mountains of the western continent was located. Apparently it was located further to the west, which was...the Au Ra spun his body around several times in an odd display of attempting to gain his bearings. He still couldn't tell which way was north inside this blasted forest, even within the settlement. The low elevation that the settlement afforded, being on top of a river, did not allow him to discern any visible mountain ranges either. He had little choice, then, but to trust in the female. So far she was adhering to his request, and in exchange the Xaela would be expected to fight for her. This was a permissible arrangement, though the bartering of services was a concept that was still a little odd to him. So long as he managed to reach the region of this "Coerthas", he could narrow his search from there into something more. In addition, Kasrjin made a mental note to make a request for a compass when obtaining such an item became amenable. As for Highlands...that must have been another region. He merely shook his head silently when the female asked for a specific heading. Truth be told, Kasrjin had not planned that far, but instinct had made the suggestion that he would know where to go when he reached the area he should search. It was with some good fortune that the pair were not accosted by any other delays as they left the settlement, and the masked warriors left them unmolested. It was to be presumed that they had yet to find the trio of corpses that Kasrjin had left behind, and it was unlikely that the green-clad guardians would hear his appeal for arbitration. Though the Xaela felt confident in his ability to handle multiple combatants to a certain degree, fighting and violence in general was often a very inefficient course of action that took both time and energy, both of which Kasrjin wished to contribute towards his search. As they left the settlement's gate, he took note of an enormous, broken piece of stone that hung high in the air. It was visible even from within the town, marked with elaborate lines and designs, and it was larger than any other structure the Xaela had seen. Though Kasrjin kept pace with his guide and her yellow bird, a part of him was terribly curious about it, though he'd refrained from asking questions that were irrelevant to what he'd asked before so as to avoid confusing the female. The terrain of this area was also marred and broken, like a battlefield. The towering trees and canopies that had so thoroughly covered the forest floor was gone, replaced by cliffs and rocks. Clearly, something had happened here to cause this area to differ so greatly from that infuriating forest he'd recently occupied. The sun gradually sank beneath the horizon, giving way to the chilled veil of night. The terrain the pair trod upon began to slope upwards, signifying that they were closer to where they wished to reach, and the walls began to narrow into a mountain pass of bluffs and crags. Kasrjin noted the female pulling her garments closer to her and donning a pair of gloves; it was a reasonable assumption that her peoples were not as acclimated to the cold. On the other hand, this temperature was considerably more comfortable to Kasrjin. He'd always had a particular distaste for the heat, and the ventures that required travelling to the southern steppes always earned a measure of disdain from him. Even so, he would need to be cautious; it would be foolish to assume that the climate of the western continent would so readily match that of the Othardian glaciers and tundra, and though the Xaela was comfortable with frigid conditions, he was also acutely aware of the dangers. If the temperature dropped much lower, they would need fire, or at the least keep moving in order to maintain adequate warmth. The pair's travel was mostly silent. Though Kasrjin's request was to obtain information while they travelled, the Au Ra was content with examining the environment of the fabled western continent for now. A shroud of smoky clouds covered the sky above them, and hard dirt soon gave way to patches of frozen soil. Kasrjin began idly flexing and unflexing his hands so as to keep the blood flowing in case he required rapid movement from them. The leather wrapped around the handle of his sword would prevent frost from building upon it, but it would be unwise to make the assumption that this route was completely safe. "A camp is required soon," the Xaela spoke aloud to the slim female figure slightly ahead of him. He could not accurately gauge how far they had travelled, but the region had noticeably transitioned into one far more inhospitable than the idyllic forest. "And I would use the opportunity to ask you for information." He made a short trot to stand ahead of the female; though they had yet to reach the snowline, the drifts would inevitably prove to be a hazard. It would be more practical for the taller Au Ra to lead and thus carve a path, but to do so would require him to gain a sense of direction from the female. The wind was gentle and thus there was no present threat of a blizzard, but as the temperature dropped lower and the remaining light vanished over the horizon, Kasrjin's face twisted in consternation. The mountains at night were as deadly a foe as any number of black ones. As if the mountains themselves heard Kasrjin's wish for convenience, a small, rocky outcropping, shielded on three sides by crags and boulders, presented itself some distance away. Instinctively, he reached his left arm out, the shoulder unguarded by the leathers and furs, and firmly grasped the female's shoulder, practically dragging her with sheer force and an inability to comprehend social conventions, to the outcropping. Releasing her, Kasrjin exhaled. "Suitable," was the only word he said.

Scooted over to FFXIV discussion. Anyway, the gist is that you're essentially using the magic of mathematics to channel aether. Geometries, specifically. The inks used to draw the geometries are metallic in nature that are conducive to the flow of aether. An arcanist visualizes the design in their head--these tend to be complex, hence the image as a sort of reference--and thus casts the spell.

While his transient companion made herself busy with her retrieval of items, Kasrjin had occupied himself with examining the town from the vantage point of the settlement's central forum and examining the curious rock that levitated at its hub. The occasional passersby would glance at him curiously, but besides the man from before none had approached him. The settlement itself quickly exhausted the remainder of Kasrjin's interest, which had been invested fully into the floating azure formation. The more he gazed at the structure, the more it intrigued him. The rock formation was rough cut and housed in brass; the way it levitated and rotated meant it was clearly arcane in nature. The Xaela had placed his forehead against it and closed his eyes briefly, and confirming his suspicions was a certain telltale feeling--albeit a minuscule one--of that paradoxical cross between a low hum against one's skin and suddenly sticking one's hand into boiling water. However, the familiarity of the sensation felt...wrong. It was too refined, and too artificial. While Kasrjin's perceptions of it had at least a passing similarity, everything else about the energy felt foreign. Another cursory inspection of his surroundings failed to reveal any of the peoples wearing pointed hats that may have been able to answer his inquiries, and the Au Ra stepped away from the formation. Still, what exactly was the purpose of this structure? The brass of the formation and its position in the hub of the town allowed a few theories to form in the Xaela's mind. Perhaps it was merely a symbol of cultural importance, or they utilised its energy in some way that was not obvious from its appearance alone. In any case, the Tsenkhai's suspicions were at least partially correct. Though its form was twisted and warped beyond almost all recognition, something that bore a vague resemblance to the Correspondence was present upon the western continent. That was one question that had been handily answered. Though the energy's nature he had yet to understand, it was progress. The Xaela was lost in thought, hands straight down at his sides when the corner of his eye caught the presence of someone approaching him--the female who had brought him into town, this time brandishing a large knapsack upon her shoulders. Her gait had straightened considerably, suggesting that the injury she had suffered was healed, or at least sufficiently cared for such that it did not significantly impact her rate of movement. Many of the larger items she had begun to fasten to the feathered bird creature whose presence Kasrjin had completely failed to keep track of. "Any trouble?" the female asked. A smile was creasing her face, for some reason. She received a confused frown from the Au Ra for her efforts. As if sensing his inability to comprehend such a nonspecific query, the female asked a different question that seemed similar in intention and tone, though only somewhat less confusing in its wording. "Are you alright?" She was still smiling in a fashion that had begun to cause the austere Xaela some small measure of discomfort. Kasrjin went down a brief mental checklist in order to evaluate the nature and purpose of the question. She should be able to infer based on his appearance and movements that he was at least visibly uninjured. If the female had intended to ask as to the status of his mental health, she would have specifically asked such a query, so therefore by asking this question of "are you alright", the female must not have intended to ask about that. The word "alright" had a definition that could be loosely interpreted based on the context, and she presumably was not inquiring as to the nature of directions in terms of left and right. Was she asking him what he wanted? He followed up with a sentence spoken in a rather stiff, mechanical fashion. "I wish to comprehend this land's social conventions as we travel," Kasrjin stated bluntly in a fashion that he was rapidly becoming more comfortable with. He'd refrained from such questions before out of thin consideration, but now was not the moment to be prancing around about conversation practices. While they were making their way to their destination, he would obtain information he needed in order to perform the function he had been assigned in the most efficient manner possible. The Xaela spun around a few times to gain his bearings before looking straight at the female again, noting her height as he had to practically gaze at his navel in order to examine her properly. "We are going to...Cur-this? Is this the name of the destination I am bound for?"

A parcel arrives. Attached is a letter. TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Deneith, Roen Greetings and Salutations on this (There are several scratches and splotches of faded ink, indicating that this section was rewritten over a few times) 10th Sun of Llymlaen's Third Astral Moon, the year 1574 1575 1576 this year, from the Office of Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises. I, Jeulerand Ganathain of Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises, am pleased to inform you via this letter of your status as the beneficiary to a trust fund opened with us here, at the Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises. At the time of writing, you: DENEITH, ROEN (the letters are written in massive block letters on the parchment) are now legally entitled to lay claim to the following POSSESSIONS, FUNDS/CURRENCIES, ESTATES, INTANGIBLE PROPERTIES Circle all that apply (Possessions, funds/currencies, and intangible properties are circled) within the fund as detailed by Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises' client: SEBASTIAN REDGRAVE. Enclosed are POSSESSIONS, FUNDS/CURRENCIES, ESTATES, INTANGIBLE PROPERTIES Circle all that apply (Possessions, Intangible Properties are circled) that our client requested that you receive directly. Please make time to visit the Office of Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises within the next eighteen (18) moons in order to personally claim the remainder of the funds. Attached is the location of our offices. (A small map is enclosed detailing Old Gridania. A small building is circled, and the phrase "Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises" is written next to it. The writer ran out of space and therefore it only says "Ent" at the end.) Please have proof of identity prepared before arrival so that we at Ganathain & Templeton Gridanian Arbitration Enterprises may release the contents of the fund to you with promptness. The parcel itself is actually comprised of two boxes. One is a small, wooden, and rectangular box used to hold papers; the inside of the box is lined with simple cloth. Within the box itself is a litany of documents: letters of credit in values upwards of several hundred thousand gil signed by trading companies throughout all three city states, vouchers to various guilds for items and equipment, and other financial certificates. The slightly larger rectangle beneath it rattles a bit when shaken, and the items within far more whimsical and carefully packaged. One is a brilliant blue bottle with an equally brilliant blue liquid, labelled "HAIR DYE" in large block letters glazed onto the glass. Another is a small, cubed jewelry box wrapped in velvet containing a pair of amethyst earrings set in elaborate filigrees of silver and gold; they jingle with movement. The other items include an elaborate and polished ocarina carved from the tooth of a large animal, a bag of rough-cut gemstones, a watercolor painting set, a pair of immaculate punching gloves in padded leather, an Eorzean bestiary, and a porcelain tea set guarded by padding such that it is impossible to tell what it is without unwrapping several layers of silk and carved wooden dividers. Last but not least, a stuffed chocobo doll had been unceremoniously crammed into the last remaining corner of the box. The doll had been roughly made of bright yellow felt with large bronze buttons affixed to its head for eyes. The seams were unsteady and the attitude of the maker was clear in the item's construction; careful knots and weavings of frustrated determination, smooth patterns of hesitant confidence, and several sections of abandoned dissatisfaction where the cloth segments had been woven together not unlike a stitch in a wound. The letters "G.W." were sewn into the chocobo's back with orange yarn. At the very bottom of the larger box is a sheet of folded parchment. It is mostly blank, except for a few sentences written in elaborate cursive. "One handful per fulm of hair. Dye washes off after roughly one cycle. Lather in hands, grasp locks, wash gently. Blue would look good. The chocobo is a reply to the Starlight Festival. Sewing is hard. One of the buttons may come off. Don't ask me to repair clothes. To stand in twilight is to witness the beauty of both day and night. The stars may blind those who dwell in darkness. The sun may cast eternal shadows upon those who bask in light. I thought I wanted you to join my side. But what I wanted was to be able to go to yours. may you forever have the strength to defend what you believe N.L."

The Xaela tensed slightly at the presence of more masked warriors standing at the gates of the settlement. He was unconfident in the female's assurance that she would "let him know", as they had failed to agree upon any form of signal. Kasrjin made a deliberate shrugging motion with his shoulders so as loosen the sword's posture in its harness, just in case. "Friend of yours, lass?" One of the masked warriors inquired to the pair. Kasrjin stared at him rather intensely with a piercing emerald gaze, though the complete lack of subtlety was not intentional so much as it was simply the Au Ra's way of inspecting things. Both of the warriors wore the same garb as his assailants; a curious carved mask with black markings and circular eye holes, spears tipped with bone and green leather garments. The Xaela noted the impracticality of the mask; the circular eye holes would narrow the wearer's eyesight and deny peripheral vision. The spears were mounted on the warriors' backs with the tip pointing above their right shoulder; presumably, they armed themselves by bringing their left arms around their backs and grabbing the haft. Wouldn't they instead hold their spears in front of them or over their shoulder to bring the points to bear with greater speed and ease? The sturdy harness holding Kasrjin's blade was designed such that it would flip away from his back and flex without breaking, allowing the Au Ra to withdraw the weapon quickly with a sweeping diagonal strike despite the intimidating length of the blade. A similar concept for a spear should not have been so difficult, surely. At the least, mounting a spear upon one's back would be something that is reserved exclusively for travelling, and at a glance these idle guardians--which is what Kasrjin presumed was the role of the masked ones--likely only concerned themselves with travelling to their meals and their bed. "Not quite," the female said in response to the masked warrior's query. She seemed to adjust her posture oddly such that she was standing in front of the Au Ra, though the top of her head barely reached up to Kasrjin's chest. "I found him wandering the forest. I agreed to show him the way to Coerthas, but we were accosted by a band of Ixal. This ah, man here fought them off and we managed to escape, but please do take care.” These were words that the Xaela had heard before but was not overly familiar with. Coerthas was a...town? A region? Possibly the name of the mountains Kasrjin was attempting to reach, though it was equally possible that the female was simply fibbing to divert attention. He subconsciously made a small nod of approval. Though he did not know where exactly Coerthas was, doing so would misdirect any assailants in this town from pursuing them...assuming that it was not the name of the location he was attempting to reach. As for Ixal, Kasrjin had heard the term in passing but had not yet fully worked out what its meaning was. Clearly it was the name of a group of some kind, but the nature of the group was an enigma. They were some kind of enemies of the masked ones, however, that much he could be certain of. The Xaela sensed the glare coming from beneath one of the warrior's wooden masks and instinctively returned it with one of his own. Perhaps this was one of the odd social practices that he had been warned about. Was it intended for him to stand his ground, as one did when facing a bear? The complexities of the western continent's culture made the Au Ra slightly dizzy merely thinking about it, so he broke his gaze quickly and followed the female into the settlement. And so it was that Kasrjin obtained his first impression of civilization on the western continent, which had been shrouded in myth and legend for so long. His eyes swept through his surroundings, devouring as much information as they could. There were a few denizens still out and about as the chill began to take over, and Kasrjin could not help but give them his severe gaze of observation as he did before. These peoples did not carry weapons and were dressed simply. They could not have been artisans or laborers. Fishermen, perhaps? The settlement was built upon a river, so that was possible. One of Tsanai's most frequent cautions was to avoid projecting his knowledge of his own society upon the societies of others, and yet Kasrjin's mind could not help but attempt to categorize everything and everyone. The Xaela made an extra effort to look for the pointed hats that signified peoples who possessed the potential to interpret the Correspondence, but found none with a cursory inspection. The settlement was surprisingly practical in some ways, and rather absurd in others. It was built upon a place of the river beneath waterfalls when there was serviceable, solid land adjacent to it. There were large rock formations that hung at vantage points above the town. Assailants could easily lob missiles at the denizens from above without fear of reprisal, and it seemed there were no covers or shelters to account for this. A set of planks formed a dock that lead into the river, which was itself unguarded. The current was weak, and at this location the depth was not very much either. It would have been a very simple matter for one to swim under the cover of darkness and bypass the gates and guardians. The female's stride lead to what appeared to be a housing for animals, and she began insistently dragging a large yellow...thing out of it. Presumably it was a bird, but the wings were too short and the legs were far too long. The feathers and beak were noticeable tells but did not give Kasrjin enough information as to exactly the nature of the creature. The female pulled upon the creature's harness until they had made their wars to what was the center of the settlement. The Xaela rotated somewhat to gain a full sense of the settlement. From this central forum area--holding an intimidating length of azure rock framed in brass that rotated upon its axis, the purpose of which Kasrjin could not discern from its appearance--there were three entryways. The bridges would make excellent choke points, and a fourth bridge extended into a large, two-story building that was presumably the center of the settlement, given its towering size over the other buildings. The large building lacked fortifications but the placement of the bridges would allow for a strong phalanx formation to defend it. It seemed the western continent was not completely lacking in the familiar, at the least. The female turned to face him, the first time she had done so since they had entered, and spoke sternly. “Wait here. There are items I must fetch –clothes and other sundries. I will return shortly.” With that insistence, she sauntered off. Waiting in such an open location seemed unwise, but it was not as if Kasrjin knew better. He himself moved towards the rotating structure in order to better examine it. Some parts of it reminded him of Kaarad-El, the way that portions of the structure floated without fixtures or supports. It rotated in a curious fashion, and he reached out to touch it when a voice barked at him from behind him. "Not from around here, I take it?" Kasrjin rotated his head in a robotic fashion. It was a man whose appearance and clothing matched the other denizens of the settlement in genericism and therefore went undescribed by the Xaela's mind. He did not possess a weapon or a pointed hat and therefore held no bearing in one's memory. "No," the Au Ra said in response. The man gestured to the sword upon Kasrjin's back. "That's a mighty fine weapon. Where'd you get it?" Kasrjin gave the man a puzzled look in the same way that one would give a look to a talking tree who suddenly asked where it was planted. "From a weaponsmith." The two stared at each other for a time. "You didn't mind the flowers," the man said, pointing an indignant finger. The Xaela followed where the finger was pointing to give a cursory inspection to the coloured shrubs at the base of the floating blue rock's fixture that seemed to have melted from the impact with his foot. Kasrjin was not sure what response was expected of him, so he merely stared. This continued for a time. The man made a huff and a sigh before leaving awkwardly. Kasrjin turned his head to poke the azure rock. That was odd.

A hero is one of those meals wherein meat is placed between long lengths of wheat-based baked products, right? Short answer, no. Long answer, you'd need a flow chart to explain the nuances of the concept as it pertains to fiction, because while a hero is all well and good the idea of a singular person bearing all responsibility makes little sense to who's adhered to concepts of social stratification all of his life. Kasrjin would just wonder how exactly a society can survive when only one person at a time seems to claim any significant amount of competence.

The Xaela accompanied the female wordlessly as she made a vague gesture towards what seemed like an arbitrary direction. Her acquiescence sounded a tad ominous, but if this trading of services was what was required for him to achieve his objective, then it was an inconsequential detour. Kasrjin noted her injury again, and the way she hobbled on one foot and leaned on various trees as they passed by, but made no attempt to assist. It would not do to spoil his one chance of escaping this forest by committing some manner of social faux pas. Or so he thought. It was with shocking promptness that the pair emerged from the featureless maze that had been the shrouded forest and on to a distinctly cut dirt road, with the occasional lone cobblestone poking out from beneath the soil. Had the road truly been so close to where they had been? It was no wonder that the masked warriors had appeared so suddenly, then. Kasrjin had originally believed that they simply knew the forest, and while that was perhaps true, it'd seemed that the Au Ra was but a stone's throw away from finding his way, and yet a disturbing number of suns he had spent doing naught but wandering aimlessly. Presented thusly with the two possibilities, Kasrjin's response was almost immediate. He was not completely certain of the distance a "malm" would take, but twenty of them sounded daunting, if the female's tone was to be believed. "We may cross the town," he said bluntly, though his wording and lack of confidence in his use of language had the stern Au Ra seem like he was asking more of a question. The Xaela shrugged his shoulders briefly, tapping the handle of his sword with the back of an idle hand as if to check if his bladed passenger was still present. Of course, a town could mean many things, not all of them positive, and yet Tsanai had been encouraging in the Au Ra learning of the western continent. If Kasrjin was to believe the female he now followed--that he may possess certain utilities she may or may not apply--then it was not completely likely that he would be attacked on sight. Perhaps now was an opportune moment to gain some information, though the Xaela was not the best conversationalist. Should he wait? Or broach the subject now? The lecture on social conventions he'd received prior to departing for the Western continent only indicated that standard protocols for conversations were far from practical. But then, perhaps the female knew of his masked assailants. It'd been mere minutes since Kasrjin had made contact with a denizen of the western continent, and already he was baffle beyond belief, his turmoil made present by his face morphing into silent confusion, though it solidified itself into a strange expression of severity. Who were the masked ones and why was he attacked? Why had this female been venturing out? "What should I be aware of before we enter?" he asked, his perplexity making itself known with the bluntness of the query.

"They existed for authority, where all was expected." -- "Ulan is dead." The solemn announcement did little to interrupt the flow of bodies that were borne in the hands of the fur-clad warriors, the cadavers making ignominious thuds as they were deposited into the pit with the same grace and dignity that one would afford to rotten potatoes. Two Xaela grunted and shuffled, their boots crunching in the soft snowfall, as they carried another Xaela's body--stripped of his garments and riddled with gashes and small holes, his frozen demeanor forever an expression of pained determination--to a pit before unceremoniously dumping it in the same pit to accompany the menagerie of black armored forms. Gentle white flakes had already begun to form an uncomfortably tranquil blanket atop the unmoving corpses. One of the Xaela, emblazoned with argent hair that blended with the featureless tundra around the group, paused to inspect the pit inundated with the remains of the battle-scarred dead. His face was sharp and youthful, and ever eager to break out into a toothy stained smile that contrasted with his slate-coloured skin. "Are you certain we should not appropriate the armor, at the least?" He patted the squares of thick leather strapped to his shoulders with a gloved hand "I, for one, would not protest to being better protected than our late Aljai." The youth's bright eyes glanced at the hole-filled warrior splayed out on the other corpses within the pit. "Carry it, then. You are welcome to it." A grunt accompanied the terse statement that diverged so greatly from the elaborate speech of the adolescent warrior, along with a disdainful kick that sent a stubborn carcass--clad in armor as black as night--tumbling into the mass grave. Contrasting with the white-haired Au Ra was another individual with jet black locks, fringed with streaks of deep forest green. His square jaw was firmly set, adorned with lustrous obsidian scales, and the straight face locked with rigid inclemency. The younger Xaela snorted in response, crouching down at the edge of the pit to examine the remains tossed inside. "Are you sure the Mahalai have no place on the battlefield? It is a shame that there are none here to carry these." Kaizhan spat disdainfully into the pit and adjusted his fur garments. Occasionally he swatted a hand through his unkempt hair to dispel the snow from gathering atop it. "The black ones do have excellent craftsmen. It seems wasteful. Could we not do something with that, at least?" He gestured to a ruined black metal object behind him. The magitek reaper still bore its unfortunate pilot harnessed to the seat, the head having had an entire javelin rammed through its skull. "It would not protect you any better than it did them," the black-haired Xaela muttered in irritation as the last of the bodies was rolled into the pit. A disdainful glance escaped the corner of his eye to rest on the reaper. "And such an impractical device is worthless." Kasrjin raised his head to glance at the remaining warriors and performed a swift headcount before frowning. There were roughly eight Khadai remaining, including himself and Kaizhan--less than half of their original number--dressed in white furs that were stained with blood and simple lamellar armours over leather hauberks. While the losses were severe, what bothered the Xaela wasn't who was remaining, but who was missing. "Where is Oyuun?" he rumbled. Kaizhan restlessly changed his posture and stuck his spear deep into the snow, the keen metal point effortlessly piercing frost and soil. He leaned against the thick wooden shaft, jerking a thumb into the pit. "Sleeping with the black ones. And with Ulan, coincidentally. Felled by one of the black ones' fire lances." The other Xaela's frown deepened. "Were any other Aljai besides Ulan and Oyuun?" A nonchalant wave was all he received as a definitive answer. The black-haired Xaela sighed and rubbed the back of his scaled neck. That would complicate things. The other warriors had begun sweeping dirt and snow into the pit so as to disguise the location of the battle, though little could be done to obscure the presence of the magitek reaper. Even so, the voracious tundra swiftly devoured all who had the misfortune to fall to it; signs of battle in the frozen dirt were shrouded in ice and snow, blood froze and sank into the drifts, and even the resilient grasses that managed to poke through the white blanket were at the mercy of the cold this late into the winter season. The armor, and what weapons could not be carried, were also left with the dead. Kaizhan shifted his position from leaning on his spear, an annoyed expression creasing the young Au Ra's face. "Must we return to Kaarad-El so soon? There are certain to be other groups of the black ones roaming here that require enlightenment in the colour of their blood." Kasrjin glanced at the warriors who remained as they finished filling the mass grave. The skirmish with the black ones had certainly cost more than any of them had expected, and the lack of Aljai removed any possibility of the warband acting independently. The Xaela shook his head, a flurry of white flakes beginning to occupy the black bangs and emerald accents. "We lack the numbers to sustain additional assaults, and the open field only works against us. We will return to Kaarad-El." Kasrjin put his fingers to his lips and made a loud series of pitched whistles. The other warriors wordlessly shuffled into a single-file line as the Xaela glanced up towards the cloudy canopy above him; even the sky seemed to be winter's prisoner. "And regardless of whether or not we possess an Aljai, it is less than a moon until Communion. Our return would be demanded either way," he commented. Kaizhan snorted again, lifting himself off of his spear and shouldering the weapon. "Just as well, I suppose. Even if they had not perished, neither Ulan and Oyuun would likely have remained as our Aljai for long." Kasrjin's viridian eyes narrowed in silent questioning, to which the younger Au Ra chuckled and twirled his weapon above his head in an elaborate display before slipping it into the harness upon his back. "Ulan had never undergone Forfeiture, and Oyuun had been reared by his birth parents, his sire and dam. I doubt very much that the Tsenkhai were pleased at either case." Kasrjin frowned at the information as he slipped his own sword, its shimmering length of blued steel gleaming in the snow, into its own harness. Those were grave charges indeed, and yet both had been slated to be the Aljai of a Khadai warband. Either Kaarad-El had intervened--such as it was--or the Tsenkhai had committed an...unusual mistake. "That is very curious." The frozen soil had begun to crunch with the rhythmic stamping of leather boots, the largest warrior clearing a trail for the others. Luckily, the snowfall had become less aggressive, but it was still a ways until they reached the safety of the mountains. Kaizhan shrugged. "It matters not, in the end, especially with Communion looming upon us." As he was shorter, the adolescent paused briefly to allow Kasrjin to pass, and Kaizhan took up the rear of the line where the snow trail was the easiest to pass through. "Though I must admit to wishing to know Tsanai's opinion on the matter." "Tsanai would be in no state to answer your dithering," Kasrjin rebuked. "And do not waste the breath needed to speculate. It is meaningless." Kaizhan let forth a lazy smile before adjusting his garments again. "I suppose you would be right. The Correspondence has a curious way of taking up all of her attention, no?" A frown did creep its way across Kasrjin's face even as he nodded, though he was careful not to let the youth behind him see his expression. The Tsenkhai had made the proclamation that Kaarad-El had called for a second Communion, not more than three moons since the previous occurrence. The Xaela tilted his head and peered to the head of the line, attempting to gauge the moods of his fellows. The most obvious guess was that the Communion was intended to address the black ones...and yet, it must have been something more. Formidable as the black ones were, they were merely a mortal sovereign state. They would endure for a century or two, but lacked the ability to sustain themselves for much longer than that. Such a dalliance was remarkable to have even caught Kaarad-El's notice, much less compel the Tsenkhai to attempt interpretations of the Correspondence with such feverish and frightening frequency. Even Tsanai, as somber and stern as she was, had a flicker of consternation in her eyes when Kasrjin had consulted her on the matter. Kasrjin and Kaizhan had spoken of the Communion so casually, as did all of the other members of the warband before setting out. The Forfeiture had made the subject easier to deal with, even as it tugged at their souls and compelled their return. And though none among the Khadai warriors would acknowledge it as the snow fell around them and as the wind began to erase all signs of their passage, all of them had felt Kaarad-El beckoning them for Communion. As their brothers died to the explosions of the black ones' fire lances and as they now marched solemnly back into the mountains, Kasrjin knew that a part of all of them wished desperately to resist the instinct and join the bodies in the grave pit, for all knew that something was very, very wrong. -- To Be Continued

Kasrjin tilted his head, his brow creased with consternation. Judging by the curious expression on the female's face, his offer was not very well-received, though the Xaela had no way of knowing if it was because of the nature of the trade itself or because of how he had clumsily worded it. The corner of his lip curled in some frustration. Situations like this were to be expected, of course, given the nature of foreign lands, but having to spar with hidden meanings and obtuse customs like some dithering Aljai was not something the warrior found preferable. At the female's query, the Au Ra shook his head. He maintained eye contact with her with a stony countenance, gazing at her curiously. More odd questions, and a word he was unfamiliar with, though from the sounds Kasrjin could attempt to infer its meaning. The first syllable of the word sounded like "house", a place of residence, but what the "age" meant was anyone's guess. Was she asking for his hospitality? Unless she were blind, she should be able to see that he was travelling on his own and thus would have no dwelling to speak of, not unless she mistakenly believed that he resided in this wood. And if she refused to give him the information he needed, why would Kasrjin ever consider making her a house guest, anyway? "No," the Xaela said, shaking his head once more. "I will not take you as a...host-age. I only require direction, or guidance, to my destination." It was possible that she would simply draw him into more of those masked warriors, but getting into a fight had more predictable results than simply continuing to wander aimlessly. Kasrjin judged the risk to be worth it. Would it be worth it attempting to bargain with services again? Perhaps. "I will fight in return. Should you wish," he offered again a bit more awkwardly. It was impossible to tell if this would actually work or not, but it didn't particularly matter. At the very least, Kasrjin knew where the road was now, so finding his way north from there should be a matter of relative simplicity. So he hoped. "I do not wish to cause trouble," he added in an attempt at earnestness. "But it is important that I reach snow and mountains." As an attempt at a show of good faith, he relaxed his grip on the sword such that only one hand gripped it, the other falling to his side. Simple directions would be sufficient, but a guide would be better...assuming he wasn't being guided into hostile action, anyway.

Kasrjin frowned. Surely that was not correct. There were some very basic principles to finding one's way--following water, tracking shadows cast by the sun, following the stars, and so on. All of these had failed him one way or another for various reasons. The stream had ended in an aquifer, the arboreous canopy made sunlight and shadows inaccurate, and the layout of the stars from this continent was completely foreign. Then again, he was a stranger to this land. To be lost was to be expected, and it would be foolish to assume that any concepts, much less those related to geography, would remain universal. The Xaela lowered his weapon further such that the tip hovered just above the soil, attempting to appear less threatening while maintaining a practical posture in case he was required to act. The female appeared to be somewhat less wary, though he could tell that she was still tense and prepared to flee if the situation called for it. Still, the fact that she was even speaking to him, even if it was due to an injury, was fortuitous. Kasrjin felt some small measure of relief, that perhaps he may yet be guided from this obtuse forest. At the comment made to his appearance, he glanced down briefly. Garments aside, he was sure to be out of place in any settlement. It would likely be best to continue avoiding civilization for now, at least within the realms of practicality. If there was a town nearby, then it was highly likely that the masked assailants that had attacked him had resided there, and undue antagonism would cause aggravating delays. After several silent moments of breath thought, Kasrjin exhaled and trudged a short distance to pick up the sword harness that had been flung off the blade, and the fur pack he had abandoned. Affixing the harness back to himself, he stared the female in the eye, taking note of the adverse weather that seemed to be approaching unrestrained. "I require guidance towards snow and mountains." His manner of speech was not unlike the Xaela himself: blunt and to-the-point. Even the way he spoke the words sounded as if iotas of breath had been clipped from the beginning and end so as to be efficient. "Point me in the proper direction and I shall be on my way." Of course, there was little reason to assume that any directions he received would be correct, but there were a few possibilities in the Au Ra's mind. One is that she would give him a random direction and he would leave, allowing her to depart in peace. Then, he would likely become lost again. The second was that she would be willing to guide him personally, though that held its own host of traps and ambushes, to say nothing of the female's injury. Tsanai had told him of the concept of bartering services as opposed to physical possessions that that the western continent possessed. Odd as it was, perhaps he could use that. His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips attempting to find the right words. "I will offer my body in return," Kasrjin offered, his expression stern and straightfaced. It made sense. It was very likely that this female possessed the perceptive abilities to discern his status as a warrior from both his weapon and his clothing. Thus, if the peoples truly did trade services, then it would only stand to reason that she might wish to utilize his abilities as payment, and that to word the offer in such a straightforward manner meant it would be unlikely that she would misunderstand his intent.

As I run The Arm of the Father--or A3, as it's known--for the eighth or ninth time attempting to get a token for the gloves, only to roll another number below 20, a curious thought fluttered its way through my head in the same way that a semi-truck going one hundred and twenty kilometres per hour with a severed brake line flutters through a traffic jammed freeway. So, Square Enix. We--or rather, I--have been asking, for a while, for a token system for loot. The reason I've been asking because while RNG is rewarding on very rare occasions, most of the time all it does is reduce the experience to a tiresome slog wherein a player's efforts for playing the content is rewarded with absolutely none of the things they wanted, and more often than not things they can't even use. A token system wherein a token is a guaranteed reward at completion that can be used to purchase select pieces of loot depending on the content that is completed--like tomestones but less prevalent and more specialized--sounds lovely. And you graciously listened. "We're implementing a token system," you said. And oh, though your information was vague I made the foolish assumption that you knew what you were doing. How I rejoiced. Oh, how I praised you. At last! A token system! No more suffering through RNG. The grind might be there, true, but at least that grind would have meaning! Players would be rewarded for the simple act of playing the game by receiving the things they wanted, or at the very least definite, unambiguous progress towards the things they wanted! All was well. Not so. Let's imagine the conversation that hypothetically took place between Developer A, who we'll assign the humble, wholesome name of Matthew for the sake of convenience, and Developer B, who we will also assign the name of Pissant for the sake of convenience. Matthew: "The players would like a token system for loot because they're tired of RNG. Let's implement a token system." Pissant: "Okay! Let's make the token an item where they'll have to roll for it!" Matthew: "Erm...no, I was thinking it would be more of a guaranteed drop." Pissant: "Okay, the token drop is guaranteed, as long as they have to roll for it!" Matthew: "Okay, also, why don't we make it so all the classes can use the token so players don't have to grind for specific drops that may only be seen rarely?" Pissant: "Okay! That way more players will have to roll for it and thus the chances of an individual player winning the drop will be reduced!" Matthew: "No, didn't you hear me? The point of tokens is to remove the factor of RNG from loot so that the act of completing content feels more rewarding." Pissant: "I hear you, and I agree! So when are we rolling out this system which only solves half of the issue of RNG loot and exacerbates the other half?" Then Matthew begins to hide under his desk and contemplate his life choices and Pissant begins to sing "What A Wonderful World" off key. As I enter The Burden of the Father again for the eleventh time, hoping for a chest piece token that I am unlikely to win, I perfectly understand that I don't really have any right to be miffed about this. First and foremost, Square Enix is a company, and as a company their main goal is profit, and with an MMO the main way to secure that profit is with these kinds of skinner box mechanics meant to drag out subscription fees for as long as possible. I get that. Really. I'm still here, playing the game and paying for it, so despite my bitching, Square Enix wins. But really. You couldn't have made the duty finder drops guaranteed? You couldn't have given us that much? I know and understand why you did it. Everyone would knock out what they needed on a single day in a week and then nobody would be playing the content. So yeah. Guaranteed drops for every member of the party are a pipe dream. Really, I get it. But RNG. You just had to foist RNG upon us. Sure, you reduced the problem by removing the concept of individual drops, so players don't have to worry about even seeing the piece they want, let alone winning the roll for it. But then after taking that step forward you immediately took another step back by making the tokens useable by everyone but still making everyone roll and compete for it. I am now on attempt #7 of Fist of the Father. Nevermind the other wings. I have yet to win the piece I would like. And I know. I'm the one inflicting the grind on myself. I'm the one who feels compelled to do something that annoys me. I'm whining about nothing. I absolutely 100% acknowledge every single thing wrong with the point I'm trying to espouse. But this is the goddamn vent thread and RNG is NOT the way to extend the relevance of content, because it makes me feel like shit.

His piercing gaze scrutinized the bundle. Its slight features and slender build implied femininity, though given the effort that Kasrjin had put into avoiding any and all of the western continent's denizens, he had no way to know for sure. The features of her face had amalgamated into a steely expression. She carried no weapons, but that did not mean she was incapable of inflicting harm. Kasrjin had not yet borne witness to whether or not the peoples of this land were capable of utilizing the Correspondence, but that was not information he was particularly interested in verifying, given the tense situation. The Xaela held his sword still, the point facing outward and a hand poised on the flat of it. The trees would make swings impossible, and so he altered his grip so as to be ready to thrust the weapon at an instant's provocation. The stranger, in turn, leaned against a tree. Kasrjin tilted his head slightly, noting the way she leaned against one leg. An injury? That would explain the yelp and the tumble, but what that didn't explain was what she was doing in a presumably wild part of the wood in the first place. A faint spot of self-awareness was cognizant of how he must appear to the female, regardless of whether or not she had intended to harm him. He did not particularly wish to be intimidating to her--it would make discourse difficult--though the circumstances demanded that it be an advantage. It would seem that the female wished to interrupt Kasrjin's steady and silent observation of her as her expression morphed into one of haughtiness as she leaned against the tree and spoke. "Well? Are you going to kill me or not?" Immediately following the question was a sense of profound bafflement that washed over him like sand muffling an errant seashell and expressed itself in a stern frown. The Xaela understood what the individual words meant, but not when they were arranged in that particular order. What was the purpose of the query? He was already poised to kill her if needed to, yes, but Kasrjin felt that his intentions--at the very least, the intention to not kill her without provocation--was evident by way of the fact that he had not yet done so. If she perceived him as an opponent, then what could she have gained by doubting whether or not he had intended to kill her? Clearly, if he was to be considered an enemy with which to engage in combat or from which she needed to flee, then his intentions could be reasonably inferred from that assumption and thus the time asking such a superfluous inquiry could have been better used instead for either of those courses of action. It was akin to seeing the sun pause in the sky and asking if it was going to rise from the horizon. The Au Ra shook his head, both as a silent answer to the female's question and to clear his own mind. Tsanai had made persistent warning of this continent's oddities, but to be expected to interpret such perplexing behaviour at this early outset was an unexpectedly challenging development. Kasrjin lowered the point of his sword and relaxed his grip on his weapon. After all, his intention was to wound or maim, but not to kill. He needed an egress from this forest, but should she attempt hostile action, the Xaela felt ready to disable her. "Where is the road?" he rumbled, attempting to match the volume of the female's inquiry. His voice was a perplexing contradiction of smooth and gravelly, like crumbled rocks being slid down a chute.

In the first instant, he had merely assumed that that particularly loud rustle of shrubbery was more of this damnable forest's trickery. In the next instant, the blued steel of the sword had vanished from its harness, the latter tumbling away into the nearby foliage from the forceful swing that had extricated its occupant. The Xaela held the lengthy weapon horizontally, parallel to his body and close to his abdomen. The confined spaces of the forest would make wide swings impractical; one hand was held close to the top of the main grip just beneath the crossguard, and the other hand held firmly onto the blunted, leather-wrapped section of the blade just above it, his stance resembling that of one who was wielding a short spear. The shimmering viridian of his eyes had narrowed so as to focus his vision amongst the shadows that leapt to and fro from every leaf and branch, and the honed edge of the Au Ra's armament practically sang in the air with anticipation. If the ebony scales of Kasrjin's horns could have twitched, they would have. The jolts made by the vegetation--and the barely audible yowl that accompanied it--was far too vehement to have been an act of the wind or a small animal, not unless a gale had arrived without warning or the rodents had grown to unusual sizes. There was someone, or something else present. Another of the masked assailants? A wild beast? He stepped lightly, leaning on the heels of his feet as opposed to the toe. The Xaela's eye twitched slightly with every crunch from a dried leaf or every snap from an errant twig. Every other step, Kasrjin paused briefly, attempting to focus on his hearing in order to hone in on the source of his discomfort. An idle boot instinctively kicked a clump of dirt onto the tiny fire, whose embers flickered in protest at its treatment and gradually began to die. Kasrjin's steps were still full of wary trepidation, and he slowly twisted and turned to examine his surroundings. Once again, the forest's untamed denizens had ceased their chatter and fallen into a hushed silence. Whoever had deigned to make the disturbance had not revealed themselves. Therefore, the Au Ra reasoned, they either remained hidden or had fled. The former was far more likely unless the unwelcome presence flew on silent wings, and his cautious advance had begun to take him further down the slope. The Xaela's head swiveled above and below him. What he'd once written off as featureless greenery became an ominous and menacing setting wherein occupied the most fearsome opponent that any mortal could face: the unknown. A flash of colour caught Kasrjin's eye, and his cautious steps became long strides to better clarify the image that appeared before him. A hardened, stern expression, ready for blood and battle, melted into an apprehensive frown comprised of equal parts bafflement and suspicion. The ready stance of his weapon weakened somewhat, and the Au Ra's movement had ceased its descent of the slope so jarringly that meandering streaks marred the dirt. It was said that the limited nature of mortals provided an equally limited perspective, and as such they could not possibly imagine the unknown, for obvious reasons. Even so, Kasrjin had a few preconceived notions as to the accoutrements of the unknown, notions that were handily dashed by the sight of the outlandish bundle of pink and gilded accessories that was nearly prostrate further ways down the slope. The colours and slight form contrasted heavily with his own heavy, muscular frame lined with white fur and wild, rough leather, and marred with stains of maroon. His sword was still held at the ready, but the memory of combat with the masked warriors was still fresh on the Xaela's mind. Avoiding more disputes of that nature would be the most advantageous course of action, and this new individual did not hold a similar appearance to those who had attacked him earlier. And yet, there was the possibility that the denizens of this wood had intended for this to happen. The sword tensed in the air. With luck, that idea was untrue.

Brief reminder for people to stay on topic. If you'd like to argue about whether or not Heavensward is a complete game, please start a new thread. I know what Melodia means; I too hate that feeling of "falling behind". It's why I had everything levelled, and the only reason I did raids was to experience the content so I didn't feel as if I were "missing out". Heavensward has a lot of content. This is good. My personal hangup is that there's so much to keep up with. Again, that's not a problem with the game, but with my mentality of an MMO player of "must experience everything and stay on 'top' of the game", so when I end up developing a backlog of things to level or when I feel like I'm falling behind--not capping out a single week of Esoterics out of however many weeks long Esoterics will be relevant, for example--it feels terrible to me. Overall I've pretty much just gotten more casual. I'm still a little stressed about the pace at which I do things--for example, I want to have more classes levelled for when Alexander comes out so I'll have an easier time switching roles and jobs to form a static--but it's not all that bad.

He was being followed. Though, it was not as if there was any way for Kasrjin to know that. Unlike the stark, rugged glaciers or the winding mountains, the forests of the Shroud were a relentless assault on the senses. Every breeze caused a thousand branches to chime in rhythmic staccato, and every broken twig that cracked beneath his boot sent something--or someone--scurrying away in trepidation through a thousand more unfortunate shrubs and leaves. The wildlife that had so politely excused him during his combat with his masked assailants had just as rudely and suddenly returned and bombarded the silence away with chatters and chirps. His original plan had been to loop around in case he was being followed, but that endeavour had been handily sunk, for not only was it nigh impossible to determine a pursuer's presence, but Kasrjin found himself lost the instant he left anything that could resemble familiar ground. It was if the forest itself was alive and impeding his progress, perhaps in penance for slaying those who were meant to protect it. The Xaela trudged over ledges and roots, the sloping hill gradually giving way to flatter, less obtuse terrain, and shook his head at the thought. It was possible, but improbable. He paused and turned his head slightly to the side, hoping to catch a glance of something from his peripheral vision. Every new stop brought a new sound, a new smell, a new sight, and try as he might, Kasrjin had completely failed to differentiate what was and wasn't a threat. A sigh of frustration escaped his lips as he paused again to examine his surroundings. It was nothing but more timber, more grass, more rocks, more dirt...nothing at all that indicated where he was or where he could be going. Once again, the wooded labyrinth had wrapped him in its loving embrace, and even finding north seemed impossible. The Au Ra continued wandering aimlessly, hoping to at least find a camp site before night fell when a foul odor made itself offensively known to his nose in the same way that an errant bird might find itself unwelcome inside a blacksmith's furnace. The frown that split itself across Kasrjin's face turned into a scowl when his steps took him to a familiar site: an arboreous copse perched on a gentle, inclined hill, marked with displaced dirt and dried blood. That stench was one of the spear warrior's bodies being returned to the earth further down the hill where he had kicked it. He'd done nothing more than make a complete circle. His mind paused briefly. That was intentional. He shook his head. After a thorough examination of the site to make sure he simply hadn't mistaken one corpse-ridden grove with another that just happened to have the same marks, blood, and bodies--with this forest, Kasrjin could never tell--and that this was indeed where the fight had taken place, the Xaela's vexation gave way to exasperation and eventually submission. After all, he had noted that the grove would make a relatively isolated campsite, and it's not as if the flanks of venison sitting in his furred pack were getting any fresher. If he was lucky, the smell of decomposing cadavers might also keep away more squeamish visitors...or it'd bring unwanted attention. Yet, perhaps that was not so bad. Assuming they didn't attack him outright--an audacious assumption to be making, surely--Kasrjin noted that perhaps they might lead him out of this godforsaken forest. He sat down on a felled log and laid the furred pack and the, the sword immediately slumping to the ground, as if sensing the defeat of its wielder. Damn his pursuers, if they even existed. The Xaela set about looking for twigs for a fire to dry the venison. He might be stumbled upon by more who wished him harm, but that had to be better than being lost for another sun.

"Y-you...!" The gasp was accompanied with a violent cough of blood. A crimson stain had begun to veil itself over the Elezen's vision as he feebly attempted to twist his body, but every motion he made caused something on his person to scream in painful protest. His breathing was ragged, his eyes fluttering rapidly in an attempt to blink away the blood that pooled above his eyes. He couldn't see exactly where he was wounded, but he could feel his life ebb away like loose sand washed away from the shore. Though it required every ounce of effort he could muster, the Elezen managed to reach a hand towards his face to rip his Wailer's mask off of his face. Though he found naught to greet him but a merciless metal edge. The towering figure drove the honed blade deep into the Wailer's skull, the impact making contact with a sickening crack. An irreverent boot found itself on the unfortunate Elezen's neck, and some grunts accompanied the spilch of the weapon being violently extricated from the cadaver. The wooded copse had fallen eerily silent now. Though the sun had breached the apex of the horizon and its argent companion would soon be making its ascent into its star-scattered shroud, not a peep could be discerned from either brush or branch. No owl cried out its jeers and no beastkin dare made itself known to the bloody scene, perhaps out of respect for the dead. The imposing assailant sniffed the air before glancing down at the dark ruby splotches that darkened the blued steel of his weapon. The gleaming emerald outline of the Xaela's eyes shimmered in the dusk with equal parts contemplation and disdain at the sight around him. Two other bodies besides the one beneath his feet lay sprawled amidst the grove. A female Midlander was missing an arm and a leg, and another male Elezen sported an impressive gash across the whole length of his torso. The Xaela brushed a gloved hand through jet black locks, fringed with streaks of deep forest green. His square jaw was firmly set, with lustrous obsidian scales adorning rust red skin, and his face seemed permanently fixed in an expression of humourless severity. A thick tunic of pale fur wrapped itself around his muscular frame, with his left shoulder exposed for freedom of movement, guarded by a metal pauldron. To call Kasrjin Khadai "austere" would be to call a glacier somewhat lethargic, and it was with a deliberate sweep of a clump of grasses that the Xaela did his best to clean the blood off of his weapon. He'd been avoiding the more obvious signs of civilization--roads, blazed trails, and so on--in an attempt to avert this exact kind of situation, and yet somehow the inhabitants of this wood had managed to find him. Kasrjin's thin mouth stretched into a frown and his head swiveled to examine his surroundings. Every single area of this wood looked like the last area; a tall canopy of trees enveloping the forest floor like a cloak. Every now and then a shrub would rustle or a bird would chirp, but otherwise there was very little with which he could ascertain his location or direction. Every turn he had made thus far into the wood had lead the Au Ra in circles, loops, twists and turns. Kasrjin's gaze fixed towards the three mangled bodies behind him. Hiding or burying them was pointless; if they had managed to track him, then it was possible that more were coming. Even so, certain preparations had to be made, least of which was a meal with which to sustain himself. Tied to the Xaela's back with small lengths of hempen twine was the carcass of a small doe. If memory served, it was for this that the other three had pursued him for--the taller, sharp-eared male had pointed at it and shouted before running forward with a spear in hand. The Xaela's mouth twisted in thought. Perhaps they held the animals sacred, or perhaps he had trespassed unawares. Regardless, if his intuition was correct, those individuals had been doggedly pursuing him for at least a full sun now, but even so, he needed to eat. Kasrjin lumped the body of the doe onto the ground and laid his long sword to rest at his side as he knelt down pulled out a knife appropriated from one of his assailants. Getting rid of the carcass was impossible, but the least he could do would be to harvest what he could from it before night fell. As he set the knife about the doe, the Xaela glanced at his surroundings again. Though the bodies would have to be moved, the copse made an ideal camp site, although his frown deepened when he spotted the dried trail of blood that lead directly into the grove. That could cause problems, especially if the masked warriors who had attacked him were accompanied by a larger group. Still, the grove was somewhat isolated and the approach to it was a hill, though not as steep as he would have liked. Would that a Nayantai be here, though the back of his mind knew that skilled hunters as they were, the Nayantai worked best in familiar territory, and this intimidating maze of timber and flora could not be called familiar to the best of them. How any of the denizens manage to navigate this labyrinth was beyond him, though he supposed that featureless expanses of ice and winding mountains would just be confusing to them as these woods were to him. There had been a road some suns in the direction Kasrjin had come from, yet even as the Xaela carved into the doe's body, he could not be certain that he'd be able to find the road again. Such was the nature of hindsight. Flanks of raw meat appropriated from the doe, Kasrjin set about removing the bodies. Each of the armored forms had any useful objects appropriated from them and unceremoniously shoved down the hill some ways beneath the grove. One of two things would happen. Either none came, and the grove would be a safe place to sleep...or more assailants would appear, in which case the sloping hill and the isolated grove would prove to be an ample place to stage an ambush. The Xaela wrapped the meat in large rawhide squares before shoving them into a furred pack, and started to make his way further up the hill. With luck, the night would bring no surprises.

Effective immediately, the moderation staff will be implementing a rule that forbids low-effort posting within discussion threads. 1). Definitions and Examples A low-effort post is to be defined as a post within a discussion thread that contains memes, macro images, videos, minimal text content or direct links, but is either not relevant to the subject being discussed and/or does not add anything to the topic at hand.

As the thread primarily deals with the discussion of in-game content, it's been moved to FFXIV Discussion.

Right, we're not going to do this. There is very little chance of this discussion going in a civil direction, so this is being locked now.

Capitalization, or the lack thereof. I get that things like "human", "elf", "bear" are lowercase, but the terms Hyur, Elezen, and Roegadyn are proper nouns to me and thus deserve the respect of a proper noun. Same goes for terms of office, like "sultanate", but when used in RP of the context of FFXIV, I prefer to capitalize it as "Sultanate" because it specifically refers to the Ul'dahn Sultanate. The Admiralty of Limsa Lominsa, etc.