Nero

Ashur raised a skeptical eyebrow but said nothing. She only knew one member of the tribe? Either the tribe was small, this particular member was talkative, or Roen didn't know as much about these Xaela as Ashur thought she did. Still, all things considered that was one link, and more than Ashur had. He'd more or less planned to spend a week questioning every Xaela in Reunion before striking out on the Steppes by himself, which was a volatile plan to say the least. Roen said she called this particular Xaela a friend, but Ashur couldn't help but wonder if that sentiment was returned. He pushed his thoughts to the side as his companion tried to make conversation. He merely shrugged. "No, I've never been on a horse. The kn--my upbringing didn't have that kind of exotic luxury. It's only been chocobos for me." Almost unconsciously, Ashur's lips split into a wry grin. Even in Ishgard he was never given much reason to wear his spurs. As a full-fledged Temple Knight he'd only ridden his chocobo a handful of times; the majority of his experience was drawn from his initial training and service as a squire. Ser Praihaux had a tumultuous relationship with his bird and would constantly leave the chocobo in Ashur's unwilling care. That seemed like a lifetime ago. "I did see a few in Kugane. Noble-looking beasts. Though not quite as broad, I think." Ashur glanced up to measure the sky; the sun was approaching its zenith, indicating that midday would soon be upon them. Luckily, the weather this close to the coastline was comfortable. "And I've heard that the Xaela deal in horses, though I'm not sure how necessary new transportation will be." The trail was giving way to denser foliage and getting harder to see. Ashur swore under his breath as he nearly tripped over a particularly intrusive stone on the path. "What about you? Animal person? Don't tell me you have ridden a horse before." The Hyur was careful to keep his tone light.

Ashur frowned. "I haven't," he admitted. Thus far his travels had been restricted to Eorzea, and even then he avoided Coerthas and the Shroud whenever it was practical to do so. "So if nothing else, at least getting lost will be a shared experience. The way forward seems relatively straightforward, though." He unfurled a chart from one of his pouches and stared at it. The cartographer's calligraphy was messy, but just barely legible. The Hyur glanced at the horizon. "If that village ahead is Isari, then we just need to head north through the hills and we should eventually end up at Reunion." He'd done his best to educate himself before embarking, but Ashur didn't know much about the Xaela. They had idiosyncratic tribal structures not unlike beastmen, but Ashur found himself feeling oddly prepared. Immersing himself in the mercenary lifestyle almost immediately after leaving Ishgard had meant adapting quickly to strange practices. In fact, he was a little doubtful that there would be any practices that would truly make him feel out of place. Maybe. The dinghy bumped onto the makeshift jetty of the village, and Ashur was quick to hop up and lash the vessel to the dock. "I'll assume those pirates can get their little vessel back themselves," he said disdainfully, tossing the oar away, glancing northward. Sure enough, off in the distance there was a slight but visible trail ascending into Othard's hills. "I don't know how long it'll take to get there, but let's hope there'll be at least some place to make a camp." He cocked an eye at Roen. "You know who to look for when we do get to Reunion, yes?"

Ashur couldn't help but notice, with a not-insignificant degree of coldness, that Roen had dodged his question. He didn't expect a simple answer, for indeed it wasn't exactly a simple situation, but he had expected...something. Something other than the answer she gave. Finding out what what the keystone did was all well and good, but not what he was asking. Her noncommittal deflection told him that enough to rekindle his suspicion. She was awfully adamant on Ashur not disturbing this tribe of Xaela, but she was never willing to give him substantial info. Ashur exhaled slowly. Well, he said it wasn't simple, and maybe to someone else it wouldn't be, but right now Ashur was weighing his mother, his life, and his status, against a group of people he didn't know. That was not a dilemma that demanded much complexity from him. He wasn't sure in what way Roen would lean. As for his clients...they were mysterious, and likely powerful, but they had to be doing things this way for a reason. Ashur was lacking in concrete details, but he knew enough that it was the Church that had deemed him a heretic. He'd had time to mull over these suspicions since leaving Ishgard. The cloak and dagger wouldn't be necessary if the same ones who hired him were the same ones who framed him; they'd have all the leverage they needed to get what they wanted from him. There'd be no need to hide if Ashur was the only one they were hiding from. "As long as I'm marked the way I am, they're threatened, and I can't return." Ashur said vaguely, with some disgruntlement. He didn't particularly want to answer Roen's questions after not getting his answer to his own, and so some evasiveness of his own would do. "I suppose we'll just see when we meet them, hm?"

Ashur felt his lips tighten. He had an inkling of suspicion that the circumstances would be something like this. After all, if his clients were willing to spend an inordinate amount of money and manpower to find this 'keystone' then naturally it must be valued by people other than them. His brow furrowed. At this very moment, he was laser-focused on his goal. These Xaela were people half a world away. But there was no telling how that might change. "You sound impressed by them," Ashur couldn't help commenting. Indeed, Roen seemed...insistent that these Xaela remain untouched, for one reason or another. Ashur could only suspect how much they apparently meant to her. "I don't want to harm anyone if I don't have to," the Hyur said quietly. "But it's not as if I can just give up and go home. This is the only way I can save someone important to me. I don't have the power to erase my supposed crime on my own." If it was only Ashur at stake, it wouldn't be much of an issue; living as a mercenary had taught him how to deal with the exile lifestyle. Whether or not he could live with that lifestyle being permanent was a question he would answer later. But there was no way he would let his status affect his mother...if she was even still alive. "I suppose I'll see this tribe for myself, in time," Ashur huffed, gazing across the Ruby Sea. Ishgard was far indeed. "Though, what would you do in my situation? Would you simply turn around and leave them be?"

"Call it my personal failing," Ashur said, grunting as he pulled his oar across the water. "If you ask me, diplomacy is reserved for the people willing to abide by its rules. Anyone willing to cross that line, particularly for their own personal gain, gets a well-deserved target on their back. Or their head" Yes, there was little more Ashur hated than being cheated. It was bad enough when the powers that be saw fit to abuse those thin boundaries--the kings, the rulers, the wealthy--but it was somehow worse when people not beholden to such responsibilities believed they had room to be just as dishonest. His brow twitched. Yes, one could say that lack of integrity was the entire reason why he was here. Ashur huffed, forcing himself to calm down. There'll be others like that in his life, to be sure. It wouldn't do to get steamed at the mere thought of them. "I'll tolerate what's reasonable, but being crossed like that isn't one of them." They were distressingly far from the shoreline, and while they'd covered a great deal of ground--well, water--it was a stroke of fortune that a favourable current seemed to aid them. Ashur untied the dinghy's little sail and lashed it to the mast, giving them a brief respite from their labour. "As it stands, I won't have any reason to be...forceful with the Xaela unless they give me that kind of reason." He cocked his eye at Roen. "Will they? What do you know of them? Their practices?"

Ashur's foot started tapping the deck. "Don't forget that it was the Kozakuras who brokered this deal for the Confederacy. Hingashi's not stirring trouble on the Ruby Sea because they can get what they want, but as soon as they hear that errant captains like yourselves are breaking deals, do you think they're going to take that laying down? And while you might be happy to swindle people, I doubt every captain or your leaders share your view." He uncrossed his arms but placed his right on his hip; in one smooth motion he could reach up, grab the handgun, and fire a shot if he needed to. Tsura seemed to consider this. "Just take the gil and we'll take the ferry to the mainland," Ashur insisted. The Roegadyn finally seemed to shrug with relent. "Leave your tithes here. Leave the dinghy on the shore," Tsura grunted. Ashur did his best to keep from rolling his eyes, and with a sigh of resignation, untied his gil pouch and dumped it on the deck of the ship. He made a mental note to find out whoever it was that convinced the pirates to detain them and put a few rounds through their heads. This was not an annoyance Ashur needed. The dinghy was lowered into the water and a length of rope--not even a ladder--unceremoniously dropped down. The Hyur quickly rappelled down just in time to catch two oars thrown at his face. There was a small mast and a makeshift sail on the dinghy, but the wind had died. "I suppose we'd better get to rowing," Ashur sighed. "I suppose we'll find another way to cross when we get back. Were you prepared to fight if I had actually started something back there?"

"We're not paying them twice," Ashur snapped testily, folding his arms. He glared at the Roegadyn. This is why he hated pirates. "We already had to give your croney his share of this extortion. As far as I'm concerned, we've already paid our dues, but now you're looking for more. A real oathbreaker, this one." The other pirates seemed to tense up at this presumed insult to their 'honour', but Ashur was fully ready to start blasting heads. The last thing he needed getting in his way was avaricious vagrants who didn't know any better. He didn't bring any explosives, but a handful of flash powder should buy them a couple seconds. Enough, anyway. Tsura's gaze swivelled to Roen. "I'll be happy to take your tithe, but I owe a favour and I intend on repaying it. Which means you will be staying here. Whether you want to or not. And if you and your wild friend here are looking to make trouble on my ship, then you'd best accept the consequences." Ashur's voice dropped low, enough so that only Roen could hear him. "They're not going to let us past. If you've got some silver words for them, you'd best use them now before I start shooting. I'm not going to be stopped here."

Ashur's hand twitched, resisting an instinct to withdraw his handgun. He didn't really have any intention of using it--yet--but it still did not suit him at all to be coerced like this. Threatening violence in Limsa Lominsa had a way of working by making cheating Ashur more trouble than it was worth, but it seemed that there was such a monopoly in the Far East that such tactics would get him nowhere. He rubbed the back of his head before depositing a number of gil coins into another pouch and throwing it at the ferryman. Ferry pirate? "That'll cover us both, I expect, unless your greed is getting the best of you," Ashur said disdainfully, his voice taking on an annoyed edge. Roen would need to save her coins for whatever Tsura would demand. Perhaps Ashur would need to save them too if Tsura was planning on pulling the same trick. Damn these pirates. The rat-faced Midlander nodded in satisfaction and the two of them were quickly on their way to the Confederacy ship. Of course, the troubles couldn't have ended there. "You've already paid your tithe," Tsura said. Unlike his rodent-like subordinate, the Hellsguard Roegadyn was rather imposing. "The problem is someone else did too. Someone else willing to pay me enough to detain you and others like you from reaching the mainland, for a time." Ashur snorted. How mercenary. Judging from the pirate's language, it was one of the competitors looking to keep other foreigners out of Othard for as long as possible. That wouldn't do at all; his reflex was to simply fight his way out or at least jump off the ship and swim if he had to, but he glanced at Roen nonetheless.

Now it was Ashur's turn to mostly dodge the question, though thankfully the ferry was just now cresting over the horizon, ending their conversation. "I've been framed. They claim they can make me un-framed," the Hyur said simply, reassembling the handgun and standing up. He couldn't help but snort at her assertion. Everyone's best interest, Roen said. Everyone's except for Ashur's, apparently. That was the thing about that phrase: despite having the word everyone in it, it was hardly inclusive. Whatever his ideals, Ashur had no intention of spending the rest of his life in ignominious exile. The ferry soon touched on the dock, and Ashur handed over the scroll given to him by the Kozakuras, while jabbing his thumb at Roen. "She's coming too," he said tersely. The boat ride itself was mostly uneventful. The problems started once they landed at the Ruby Price. A Confederacy ship was already waiting in the distance, but the pirate waiting for them had other ideas in mind. Ashur presented him with the other scroll, but the rat-faced Midlander squinted at it for a second before tossing it aside. "Bah. These Hingan lords of yours too uptight to pay with proper koban? Where's your tithe?" Ashur shifted from one leg to the next, crossing his arms in annoyance. "I was promised passage. I believe your Captain Tsura agreed. In fact, that's exactly what it says on that scroll you just threw away." The scrawny Confederate snorted. "The captain will get his dues. You're going to have to pay me to take you to the captain." The Confederate squinted at Roen. "Tithe?"

Ashur raised a brow. He wasn't expecting her to be totally forthcoming, but he wasn't expecting Roen to be quite that terse either. So much for conversation. The Hyur shrugged. "And your only clue is someone purchased twenty years ago, as I recall. Not very good prospects. Though, that is nobly dutiful of you to pursue something so..." Ashur rubbed the back of his neck. Futile? Impossible? What was a polite word in this situation? "...distant," he finished. Something about Roen was starting to seem vaguely familiar to him. Ashur had a hint in his mind that maybe it was her hair colour; it wasn't especially rare but it wasn't that common either. Hadn't he seen someone like her before? Well, not that it mattered anyway. His left hand reached to his back to pull the handgun out of its holster when he paused for a moment. Ah. I forgot a buckler. A shield would have been handy, but it's not like he could risk going to Kogane Dori to get one. Vessels of all sorts were starting to pull into the harbour, many of them merchants or fishermen seeking nocturnal stock. It was only a matter of time until their vessel arrived. He took a cloth out of a pouch and started cleaning the handgun, though he'd cleaned it at least three times in the past two days. Its overall frame was still the double-barrelled prototype that Lantrenel had given Ashur from House Haillenarte's firearm designs, but the exterior had notches and scratches from those times Ashur had used it as an impromptu shield. The slick Ishgardian mechanisms had some slipshod-looking modifications attached to it by Limsan musketeers, and the wooden furniture had three tiny rows of scratches. Ashur peered at the horizon, wondering what was taking the ferry so long. "What's your goal in coming with me, anyway?" He wondered out loud, more to himself than to Roen. "I get the feeling you're not intending to give me an escort the entire way." No, judging from what she'd told him yesterday, Roen would step in sooner or later. It'd be best for Ashur to have an idea of when. Just in case.

Ashur snorted. Yes, he'd encountered his share of pirates on Vylbrand and beyond, and did his best not to associate himself with them too much. An obsession with drunkenness, wenches, booty, and drunken wenches in possession of booty was pervasive enough that Ashur kept his work on land whenever he could afford to, and he was willing to say as much. "I'd still prefer to avoid them if I could. Lawlessness is hardly a virtue," he said disdainfully. Preachy words coming from the knight turned mercenary, he realized, but he at least tried to adhere to the law. Usually. He sighed, scratching his head. It was good that she had come prepared at least; that saved him from having to improvise a way around the tithe. "I have an arrangement with a Hingan family to do some trading for them. They're interested in some herbs or some such from the Steppe." From one of his pouches, Ashur pulled out a small wooden scroll case, popped out the scroll inside and unraveled it. "I'm assuming the traders at Reunion will at least know what I'm looking for if they don't have it in stock. In exchange I get passage to and from the mainland to Kugane." The ship was late. Ashur found himself crossing his arms and tapping his foot as the sun gradually climbed higher into the sky. "So what brings you to the East, anyhow?" he asked idly. Partly to make conversation and also because he still didn't quite trust her.

Ashur withdrew his hand from his handgun and folded his arms. If she was intending to cause trouble for him, she probably wouldn't do it here anyway. Still, it was best to keep her guessing. If push came to shove, Ashur was prepared to use his weapons, however reluctantly. "In a manner of speaking. We--well, I have been paid for. I have something figured out for you," he said nonchalantly. That was actually a complete lie. Only when Roen mentioned it did Ashur remember that only one foreigner, namely himself, had been guaranteed passage across the Ruby Sea. If he thought he could have gotten away with slapping himself in the forehead, he would have. He didn't actually think she'd agree to come along! Not that it mattered, because he'd completely forgotten about the tithe anyway. These damn pirates and their tolls. He raised a brow at her. "Though, I hope you weren't expecting me to handle your tithe. These pirates are strict, so I'm told." There, that would probably do the trick. At least if Roen herself forgot to bring payment then he wouldn't look like the more foolish of the two. Probably. "Dealt with them before, have you?"

There was still a part of Ashur that found comfort in heavy armour. The weight of Ishgardian chainmail had been burdensome at first, but over time became something of a relief, like a heavy blanket. Even now, Ashur found himself missing that sensation. For practical purposes, that had been shed for heavy padded clothing and reinforced leather. The aetherotransformer strapped to one side of his waist, the handgun on the other, and a shortsword on the small of his back. His pack held enough supplies for a month, and the various pouches had contingencies in them. Potions, tools, first-aid supplies, navigation tools, the like, though unfortunately the Hyur had found no way to take his explosives with him. He found himself standing on the docks before the sun had even risen; sleep had not been generous to him. He sat crosslegged in the dark, listening to the flow of the waves and the distant bustle of nightlife. Despite his claimed disinterest, he found his thoughts drifting towards Roen's words more and more. The freedom of everyone in Ishgard: apparently, whatever his patrons were doing would jeopardize that. Was that possible? Ashur had talked a big talk, but would he be able to stop them after they gave him his life back? Would they even give that much? The life of a mercenary had exposed him to many characters, most of them dishonest. Ashur knew that Roen knew more than she was letting on; he didn't trust her; not by a long shot. He had to say, however, that whatever her apparent faults, he still trusted her more than he trusted his mysterious clients. Time would tell if they would give their word. When dawn finally came and Ashur saw her striding toward him, he made a show of grasping the grip of the handgun. "Well, you've let me see you coming, so you've either agreed with me or you're very foolish about trying to stop me," he called aloud.

What did it matter if his patron was one more powermonger seeking an advantage that didn't exist? The Church would crush them. The dragons too, if that failed. Freedom. Ashur was careful now, given his last slip, but how he wanted to scoff at that notion. Chains upon chains upon chains. Class, status, family, the knights, the dragons, the Fury herself. Was anyone in Ishgard free, to a degree that mattered? Their lives weren't their own. One way or another, they belonged to someone else. They owed their lives to the nobles, to the lord commander, to the Archbishop to the city, to Halone. Ashur didn't consider himself a harsh man--yet--but even he could not prevent his eyes from narrowing in disdain for a brief moment. Stella would have known what to say. Stella would have some choice words regarding this woman's notion of "freedom". To Roen's credit, her question reminded him that this wasn't really about him, in a way: Ashur simply had to know if there was anything in Ishgard to go back to, after all that had happened. What mattered was that Emilia, his mother, was all alone. Alric was dead. To her knowledge, Ashur was also dead or at least branded a heretic, which was the same thing. He had no way of knowing if she was even still alive, or perhaps if she had been executed by the Inquisition. Did she manage to survive? Was she acquitted? If so, was she surviving? Did she hold out hope that Ashur was still alive, and innocent? Was she eating right, now that he wasn't there to prepare the meals for her? He could almost hear Alric behind him. If you're gone, at least Mother will have to learn to cook properly. An awful joke. But one that Al would have delivered with perfect humour. "No, I suppose not," Ashur said finally. "My life has never been worth much. I see no reason for that to change now. But even so, I can't give up. There is someone depending on me. Someone I have to save." Ashur's amber eyes glared somewhat. "And their life is worth enough to me. They mean more to me than my own. They are innocent and worth saving. If my 'employers' threaten them with this contract, then once they've given me what I need, I will kill them." Ashur took one last swig of rice wine, stood up, scattering a handful of gil on the table. Despite the fact that he and Roen had ostensibly traded favours, the Hyur had no intention of leaving any sign of a debt. "From what you've told me, you clearly know about the object I am looking for, and about the tribe that has it. Perhaps you already know what it does and where to find it. Consider my words: the only way you will have any control over how this ends is if you help me. My ship leaves for the Ruby Price tomorrow at dawn. If you change your mind, you can find me then. And if you want to try to stop me, then you'd better make sure I don't see you coming." It was equal parts challenge and threat; with that, he left the Hostelry to finish making his preparations.

Ashur studied her face intently. How much of this was true? How much of it was a lie? She was vague enough with her information that if anyone else had been telling him, Ashur would have thought it a lie; anyone could be this vague if they were attempting to get him to give up on his contract. But he didn't think she was a liar. Perhaps it was instinct or something else, but though her words seemed suspicious, her demeanour and expression did not. But if it was true, then what? Nobody as mysterious as Ashur's patrons had good intentions in mind; that much was clear as day ever since he took the contract. They were obviously planning on doing something with this keystone. What mattered was who they were planning to do it to. Should he just give up, and forever remain an exile? Ishgard was often rough and charmless, but it was home, one way or another. Not Eorzea. Not Aldenard. Not Limsa Lominsa, not Gridania, and certainly not here in Kugane. Everything Ashur had done--mercenary work, piracy, unscrupulous activities unbecoming of a knight--was with the implicit and explicit understanding that it was temporary. He was going to go home one way or another. Perhaps that was simply his weakness. It felt like eons since that day in the Shroud with Loren and the cohort, but Ishgard was never far from his mind. Ashur folded his hands together and leaned forward, exhaling before finally speaking. "If what you say is true, then that's all the more reason for you to give me your info, then," he tried to say so in a tone that was matter-of-fact, but there was a hard edge to his words. "I am not the only one they hired, and I am certainly not the worst of them." That much was true; the ship that carried Ashur to Kugane had certainly transported a rough crowd more eager for the gil than any moral grandstanding. "Treasure hunters, mercenaries, all sorts of characters are going after the bounty this contract offers. If not me, then someone else will bring it to them sooner or later. I'm under the impression that my patron has more than enough coin to throw at this problem until it's solved." The Hyur leaned his head on his fist. This was duplicitous, but if it got Ashur what he needed, then it was necessary. "If this object is as powerful as you think it is, and if my clients are as dangerous as you think they are, then don't you think it would be better to keep a closer eye on it? If I retrieve it, then perhaps I can take it to an alchemist or someone. Understand what it does. Perhaps have a fake of it made, enough to get me what I need. And if you are with me, you can personally oversee what happens to it and who takes it, if that's your concern." If that was even possible. Personally, Ashur didn't think so, but at the moment it didn't matter. His gaze hardened. "I intend to go after it one way or another. I will be getting my life back." That last sentence slipped out before Ashur could stop himself, but his voice was steely with determination regardless.

As Roen's demeanour changed, Ashur's felt his harden somewhat as well. He wasn't sure why, but the atmosphere between them had changed, and it had only changed after Ashur revealed what he was looking for. She was a competitor after all, then? It had been foolish of him to assume that she wasn't. The safest thing, the smart thing to do would be to assume that everyone was in his way. If she was another competitor, then Ashur had certainly revealed himself, requiring that he move up his schedule considerably. While he wasn't exactly brimming with joy, Ashur's face curled slightly into a frown. "No, I don't know them," Ashur said cautiously, folding his arms. "They came and went under circumstances that were more than mysterious. As for what they intend to do, I don't know that either. Probably something magical. Like I said, that doesn't matter to me. All that does matter is they've offered me something that's more than money for me to retrieve it for them." And I intend to do so. Ordinarily, Ashur would have never taken such an offer. A part of him still wasn't sure that his mysterious patron could actually do what they claimed to. If she was a competitor, what then? She certainly knew his name, his face, where he was going and how he intended to get there. But then, maybe she knew something he didn't. This could be his chance to get some information and some leverage. "Why do you ask? What do you know about them? About this stone?"

Ashur relaxed somewhat, though a part of him remained at least a little bit suspicious. Judging from her reactions and demeanour, Roen didn't seem like a competitor, or she was very, very good at hiding that fact. However, given that Ashur ran into her when she was about to get cheated out of a few hundred gil, he found it increasingly unlikely that she was hired by the same patron for the same contract. "I'm actually not sure," the Hyur admitted. "It's a rock. Well, a stone. All black, about the size of a Roegadyn's head, give or take a few ilms. Supposedly it has some sentimental value or ceremonial function, but if you ask me it's probably something magical." Ashur felt a twinge of instinct demanding that he lean back, except he was sitting on a bench and would look quite foolish for doing so. "A 'keystone', according to my contract, that belongs to a tribe that lives in the glaciers in northern Othard. They rarely come south, but I've been told to start looking at Reunion. All of the Xaela partake of that marketplace, or so I've been lead to believe." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't quite know what it does and frankly, don't particularly care. I just need to find it, find what I need to trade for it, and bring it back to the client." And then I get my life back.

While Ashur was still instinctively uncomfortable with lying, he had quickly learned the necessity of such a skill in his particular profession. It wouldn't do to tell her too much; he had no idea what her motivations were or how she might react to certain pieces of information. Yes, it was best to be cautious. "I'm currently under a contract to trade for an object that a certain tribe has in their possession," he said, taking another sip of the rice wine. That wasn't entirely a falsehood, to be fair; if he could obtain the keystone without violence, that would be ideal. Though, Ashur was under no illusion that such a thing would be particularly easy. "And, well, I am not sure where to find them and even if I did, I have never personally dealt with the tribes. It would be unfortunate to fail due to cultural misunderstanding. I suppose you could say I'm looking for any kind of help you can offer. If you know how to talk to them, what kinds of things they would value, or just where they are. I understand the tribes are scattered throughout the Steppe, but I don't have the luxury to comb all of Othard for them." Ashur folded his hands. "It goes without saying that my patron is not interested in seeing me again until I've retrieved what they want. While I can't say for certain they'll grant me any favours, at the very least I expect them to hear me out when I return, and by extension they should be willing to hear you out."

Ashur couldn't help but raise his brow. Ul'dah was, to put it kindly, a city with a polarizing reputation. He supposed it shouldn't be surprising that people might be hesitant to deal with the ilk of merchants and coin-counters who saw little beyond the glimmer of gil. Such vipers were bad enough in Ishgard; he dreaded to wonder what an entire city comprised of such people would do to a person over a long enough period of time. At the same time, the Hyur couldn't help but snort. "That is preciously little information to go on," he remarked. "I couldn't even tell you if the Hingans still practice that kind of chattel commerce these days. If she was a courtesan, maybe she would have been a curiosity in the Sanjo Hanamachi, but the... shelf life of such a profession is notoriously short. I'd be surprised if there were anyone there who could remember last year's attractions, much less those of twenty years ago." With a final click, the last gear slid into place. Ashur carefully replaced the crystalline cover of the chronometer and the mechanism began buzzing, humming, and whirring with relieved satisfaction. "You'll have to adjust the hands, but as long as you're careful it should work quite nicely." He slid the chronometer across the table before taking a swift sip of the rice wine from the porcelain cup. "As for who you're looking for, well...I suppose if there's no one else, I could ask the family that's currently sponsoring my, uh, contract. Though I'm afraid I'm not in a position to ask them right now, or any time soon." Ashur rubbed his forehead with one hand while tapping his knee with the other. "I have a certain task that requires me to go to the mainland of Othard...the Steppe, specifically. Until I finish it, I'm afraid I'm not exactly in a position to help with your predicament." Exactly how much should he tell her? His mysterious client had mentioned hiring a large group. While they had not explicitly mentioned a competition, there was no guarantee that they would follow through on their promise to restore Ashur's name if he was not the one to personally deliver the object they were seeking. Ashur's eyes narrowed somewhat. Was this Roen woman another treasure hunter? A competitor? The Hyur found himself wishing he had the foresight to ask for the exact conditions of the job: there were plenty of unscrupulous mercenaries who would kill in order to gain a larger share of the supposedly large payment that was waiting. "If you wanted to help with such a task, I might be able to assist you," Ashur offered, careful to try to keep the uncertainty from his voice. "How much do you know about the Xaela?" This was just an attempt to probe. Depending on how she answered and what she said--or more importantly, what she didn't say--it might be necessary for him to leave sooner rather than later, lest he lose whatever lead he had on obtaining the keystone.

"And his family is in the Far East, hm? That is quite a ways to go." Ashur mulled aloud. He couldn't help but note that that was some remarkable determination; whoever it was must have been close to her. And judging by the way she worded things, the person in question must be dead or something close to it. Tragic. Returning a last keepsake to a family...it made Ashur think. Did his mother have anything left of Alric? For that matter, anything left of him? The Hyur felt his fingers clench together somewhat tighter upon the tools. He couldn't risk contacting her lest she also be accused of heresy. It was just a reminder that he needed to return to Ishgard, and that meant fulfilling the request of his mysterious patron. If they could do what they claimed they could. He glanced up as she returned his question. "Ashur. Just Ashur," he insisted. He'd been careful about giving out his surname, just in case. Ashur wasn't sure how far the Inquisition would go, and that wasn't something he was willing to test. Smarter and more capable people than him had been thrown into Witchdrop for smaller mistakes. "Well, I hope you've already found them or have an idea of how to reach them. I'm afraid you can't look forward to getting too much assistance here as an ijin...ah, a foreigner. The Hingans are only looking for your coin or your goods, whatever they might be. I haven't had much luck in my own endeavours." Ashur grunted, twisting one of the metal drivers to spin a gear forward. "If you're looking to do more business here, I'd try to get situated with the Ul'dahns at the Ruby Bazaar. I wouldn't trust any of them as far as I can throw them, but at least the mannerisms are the same."

The Hostelry was busy, but not so busy that Ashur couldn't quickly find a table. He set is belongings aside and withdrew his gunsmithing tools. While the fix was simple, in truth if it were any more complex then such clumsy things would not be precise enough. Ashur breathed a secret sigh of relief as he carefully pried open the crystalline case of the chronometer and found that the problem truly was as simple as he thought it was. With a pair of thin metal drivers he set to work carefully re-aligning the gears of the chronometer. Ashur squinted as he worked, observing that this was no ordinary mechanical timepiece, but something that could only be of Garlean make given the presence of extremely fine metal cords wrapped inside, and a cylinder that he could only assume was some kind of ceruleum container. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the woman now sitting across from him. A collector of trinkets, or a Garlean herself? Well, not that it mattered either way. "This is remarkably complex," Ashur commented out loud, nodding as one of the Hostelry's employees brought a tray of drinkware and a porcelain bottle of rice wine. "Not too complex to fix, mind, but I think you can count yourself lucky that one of the more problematic components wasn't damaged. Where did you get it, Miss...?" Ah. That's right. He didn't know her name. Well, again, it's not like it mattered. They would be quickly parted soon enough as it was.

Ashur felt his brow twitch when she called him "ser", threatening to curl his face into a frown, but he resisted the impulse. He cleared his throat, "Firstly, just at a glance, the fix is a simple one." He peered more closely at the timepiece in the woman's hand. The hands on the face weren't moving, but the inner workings were visible through the crystalline case of the chronometer: the teeth of some of the gears had fallen out of alignment and were pressing against one another, meaning they couldn't move. Ashur shot a glance at the displeased merchant. "Secondly, it's the kind of fix that would barely take a few bells to fix, if you knew how to fix it. A few suns of fumbling around it would almost certainly break it even more. And with all of that in consideration, five hundred is an absurd sum to pay." The Hyur crossed his arms, leaning to one side. "Fortunately for you, I do know how to fix it in....oh, maybe a bell or so, I have the tools on me now, and I'm certainly not going to demand five hundred. Buy me a drink at the Hostelry and we can call it even, hm?" Wouldn't you rather trust another foreigner was the unspoken subtext, one he knew that the Hingan merchant picked up on because her brow had furrowed considerably. He couldn't help but let the corner of his mouth curl into the veil of a smug grin. After being cheated by the last merchant, it was somewhat satisfying to return the favour.

Two months of dry rations, potions and elixirs for emergencies, a map, a compass, bags and pouches to carry everything in... Ashur's mental checklist was progressing merrily. The last item he was attempting to purchase, however, was proving difficult. Or rather, the merchant who was carrying it was being difficult. It was a leather belt pouch for holding potions: a hardened pouch of gyuki leather contained within it an array of adjustable metal rings for securely holding bottles and vials of various shapes and sizes. It was a masterwork. "This is my best product. I'm afraid I can't let it go for any less than six-fifty," the Roegadyn said with a huff. "And I would hate to hear that such an exquisite display of craftsmanship ruined!" By an ijin was the unsaid but clearly heard subtext. Ashur frowned. He supposed part of that attitude couldn't be helped; gone was the clean chainmail, the neatly trimmed dune of sandy blonde hair, and the knightly demeanour that might have afforded the Hyur some manner of dignity. In their place was a plain black gambison, a wild mane of unkempt blonde growth, and little more than a large firearm on his back and a sour attitude. The Twelve themselves would be hard-pressed to be generous to such a vagrant. They engaged in a staring contest for a time, but Ashur eventually sighed and relented, pulling out the requisite number of gil as the merchant smiled in smug satisfaction. The merchant had the upper hand here: foreigners were at a disadvantage, and one without the proper leverage or mercantile wherewithal was certainly asking to be cheated to some extent. It was almost as if he'd never left Ishgard. Potion pouch in hand, Ashur began to make his way to the next merchant when he glanced at a scene similar to the one he just left. Another Hyur--most likely another foreigner--was looking to get....something repaired. While a part of him said to keep moving, Ashur couldn't help but squint at it. It was some sort of mechanical timepiece. Ashur paused in his stride; it was clearly nonfunctional, but the mechanisms looked more complex than they really were. What caused Ashur to scowl, however, was the merchant's exacting price. Five hundred? "I wouldn't, if I were you," Ashur said lightly as he passed by the woman, glancing at both her and the jeweller out of the corner of his eye. "You're paying an absurd sum, and it's most likely going to break again as soon as you get it back."

These Hingans were unfailingly polite. To Ashur, that was not a particularly glowing compliment. In fact, the Hyur was practically gnashing his teeth when he stepped onto Kugane's docks. Despite the beauty of the Shirogane inn he had just been in, his mind was swirling with discontent. It had been some time since Ashur first landed in Kugane. A mysterious Elezen, representing an even more mysterious but powerful group, had hired a great number of adventurers, treasure hunters, and mercenaries--of whom Ashur was a part of--to comb Othard for something called a "keystone". What it was and what it did was unknown and frankly did not matter to him. The only relevant details were that it was a large sphere the size of a Roegadyn's head, perfectly polished out of black obsidian, it most likely belonged to a clan of Xaela in the Azim Steppe, and that this mysterious client wanted such a thing quite badly. However, Ashur had encountered significant difficulty when first arriving. He was totally unfamiliar with the Far East. His first week had been spent stumbling around Kugane, looking first for a map and then a captain willing to take him across the Ruby Sea. Ashur's gil was good, but for some reason it was nigh impossible to leave Kugane unless he paid some truly absurd sums. As such, it was serendipitous that there was at least one Hingan clan willing to sponsor ijin. The Kozakuras were more than willing to take advantage of the resource that was foreign adventurers; guaranteeing passage across the Ruby Sea was a shrewd way of obtaining goods from mainland Othard. For Ashur's efforts, he was assigned what could only be called a shopping list of wares from Reunion after mentioning that his destination was the Steppe. Still. It was infuriating having to deal with that veneer of etiquette. Ashur hated it in Ishgardian nobles and he hated it here in Kugane. That feeling of being talked down to...were Ashur a less restrained man, it was a sensation he might be driven to kill over. The morning sun was far too high and far too bright. Ashur pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing at the Shiokaze Hostelry. Was it too early for a drink? The Kozakura vessel wouldn't be leaving until tomorrow at the earliest...no, he had best stock up on supplies first. If nothing else, haggling with Eastern merchants was far easier than dealing with Lominsans or Ul'dahn gil hoarders. That was a small solace as Ashur began sauntering towards Kogane Dori.

So, as you probably noticed, images are a bit borked right now. As in there are none any more. And the gallery is empty. It's with regret that I inform you that during some file cleaning and data migration, some kind of catastrophic error occurred that pretty much wiped the entire "upload" folder from the RPC's database. In short, a configuration error made it so IPS would try to copy a file, fail, and delete the file after failing to copy instead of retaining it. This means anything that any static content that required direct uploading to the website--gallery images, post attachments, and profile avatars, among other things--are more or less gone. In terms of interface, this'll mean a lot of general visual wonkiness (since images are missing) and possibly broken post formatting if your post heavily relied on images. However, all wiki content (including images,) forum text content, hyperlinks (such as images hosted on imgur), and the actual posts and all important user data has been preserved, and many additional measures have been taken to further protect data, prevent systemic deletions, and in the event of deletions, make rollbacks easier. Again, my sincere apologies for the loss of data. This won't happen again.