Zelmanov

Actually, it is possible for ascension into nobility via dragon slaying and merit. Aymeric is the most obvious example, because for all intents and purposes he was treated as a bastard. Likewise, Lucia, an outsider(and garlean) is treated with as much respect as a highborn. The whole existence of the convictory in western highlands is there solely for the idea of a bunch of misfits brumelings and 5th-6th born highborn to carve out a path of status and glory via finding and murdering a properly sized dragon. Aside from marriage to secure a higher spot, there are two ways to ascend the ladder Military or religion, which closely mimics old timey medieval europe

Ishgard, despite its social stratification is a meritocracy War Time Ishgard generally has the edict that if you prove yourself useful in the war, you will have a station befitting your abilities. However, that does not prevent snooty highborn from trying to actively prevent upward mobility as evidenced by the scholasticate quests or the leve quests which state that apparently brume-born dragoons in training don't last nearly as long or not expected to survive the training. The former Azure Dragoon (before WOL or Estinien) is a midlander hyur. You see several nameless hyuran highborn looking NPCs in the pillars (most notably in front of Fortemps house). Any inherent racism born of the great hyuran-elezen wars seems to have taken a backseat to fighting dragons.

I want in for the new event pls!

I am inclined to observe event B, is there a way to participate in it as an IC non combatant? perhaps via an airship high above?

I proudly proclaim that femlanders are the best and wish I had more in my life. and honestly, I can't even tell the difference between wildwood and duskwight unless the duskwight is a shade of black.

Despite the bright, cloudless day the wind still blew with enough bite to remind even the stoutest Ishgardian of the icy condition of his home. People huddled near loved ones and open flames. For many, the day would be like any other in the endless winter, like any other even with the threat of dragon kind no longer looming overhead, no longer giving a reason to fear the clear, open skies. However, there was a lone soul who sought to make the day anything but routine. “Starlight’s Greetings!” rung out in The Brume. A lone Hyur garbed in festive red cloth, lined with white fur stands in the middle of a crossroad, waving one flyer about in one hand as his other clutched the remaining stack of papers against his breast. “Those in want and need pray search for the strip’d poles of the Dufresne Bellworks Tents and find sup and succor this merry, holy day!” He smiles warmly to temper the tired, icy blue eyes that peaked from beneath long, disheveled brown hair. “By the grace of the Fury and the Saint we bring alms, come one, come all, lowborn or high.” He offers a flyer to a man as he walked by who ignored him “Merry Starlight!” he takes a deep breath and readies himself to repeat what he had been saying for the past bell or so. “Sta-“ he feels a tug at his pant leg and looks down to see a small waif of an elezen boy. Orrin dropped down to one knee to meet the child eye to eye “What is it, little one?” he asks with a soothing calm, though the child shied away, casting his gaze downward, hands now gripped behind his back, still shivering ever so lightly. “Come now, you are cold and hungry, are you not?” he asks, looking just past the boy to see a group of cowering children in barely more than rags peaking out from behind crates and barrels and rubble. “Oh, you are the unlucky one chosen to come to treat with the scary knight?” The little Elezen nodded, nearly whimpering. Orrin smiles as he moves to set down his sack of flyers and puts it on the ground, stopping it from flying away with his knee. “Well don’t you worry, you shall become the brave one, chosen to lead your friends to warmth.” He takes the boy’s hand in his in order to push the flyer into it “There is a map on the back, you needn’t be lettered to know how to get there.” He closes the waif’s fingers over the paper “Go now, I heard they’ve got more food than they know what to do with.” He stands back up and gives him a small push back towards the group of children “Go on.” The elezen boy looks back and meets Orrin’s eyes once more and gives a smile “T-Thank you!” He then turns and sprints off. Orrin chuckles and looks up at the bright sky “Lady Gilrouis and Miss Shesha will have pandemonium about them soon, I do not envy them” he chuckles and then waves a fresh flyer into the air. “Starlight’s Greetings!”

It is primarily training that defines the Dragoon. Though primarily used for comedy, the Hildebrand Quest shows that even an old doddering fart of a former Dragoon can launch himself in the air (and nearly die). Mind you, if you were not a Dragoon during the war, why would you want to be one? They exist and were created /SOLELY/ to murder dragons. Dragons are now Ishgard's allies and given the Dragon's propensity to be sore little babies about EVERYTHING, I'd believe that Ishgard would do a lot to ensure you don't have any more aspiring dragon killers. There was a humongous thread (caused by me admittedly) about future Dragoon RP. My response was to retire my character (Though he hates his new desk job in the temple knights). We /KNOW/ about 8-9 of the active dragoons already occupied by NPCs, thus the reason for my choice fore retirement being that being an active service dragoon iss akin to Warrior of Light in exclusivity. Actually it is more likely you went to void ark or crystal tower or any of the 24 man raids IC'ly than being an active service Dragoon post war. Not only that but Traditional Ishgardian Dragoon training is /highly/ traumatic, on par with historical equivalencies of the Janissaries in old turkey (Willingly induced PTSD rage sort of stuff is the short hand). So ask yourself /why/ you want to be a Dragoon and what merits does it gain from being one that cannot be achieved via being a Temple Knight or other settings. Lore book was a bit of a nut punch to extant Dragoons but a lot of us have moved on in ways, (lots of retirees, turned adventurers, reassigned). If your character disappears once the title of dragoon is removed, rethink the character.

*has been edited for grammar and further expansion since I was typing this train of thought style* I enjoyed the game immensely. I have clocked 80 hours into it. My biggest gripe is how it goes from 0 to 100 after facing Leviathan (spoilers but not spoilers because all the commercials show leviathan). You cannot return to the overworld unless its via an in game mechanic to "Relive memories" While it works in avoiding the old FF gripe of "Missed it, now gone forever" items it also neuters the game of a sense of flow and narrative sense. Before Leviathan, all Main Story quests happen in the Overworld and you can see the effects spiral out from there (constant rain for example or the magitek soldiers harassing you after the first chapter) However it all goes away after Leviathan as you are railroaded in a way that reminds me too much of FFXIII HOWEVER, unlike FFXIII, this game is miles better, the music is amazing, the set pieces are awesome and in contrast, while the main story is lacking, if you /inhabit/ the world via doing the sidequests, driving around, camping etc. You are inundated with characterizing (not necessarily character building) moments. I feel for my 3 bros, which is way better than asshole Snow, whiny Hope and "I'VE GOT A SOOOOOOOOON" Zasz. The game entirely hinges on your ability to like your 3 teammates. Because from Leviathan onward, they do everything they can tear apart your group and cause the hurt and stakes via the tension of breaking their friendship. Not only that but the game appeals to a very rare sentiment of the duty of a king, a leader to one's people and to those who serve you. This in itself is hard to relate to for most. This is not just fulfilling your destiny as "Chosen One" This is doing your duty and obligation as /KING/. The game managed to sell me the boy band, in no small part due to Noct's stellar English voice acting to properly communicate a boy in a man's role which was less angsty and whiny than Tidus or Squall (Yes I chose English willlingly). So when the game decided to punt me in the nuts repeatedly with its tone shift, it worked for me. As Dunkey had said in his review, story takes a back seat to the game play and systems much like Metal Gear Solid 5, another equally polarizing game. If you enjoy the core systems, the game is far from a waste of time. Also, good on the game for promising an ending and having the balls to actually go through with it. Also, I would suggest /against/ overleveling. The game is designed to be beaten at level 40 and I was 73 when I beat it. It made the last encounters less struggle for my life and more triumphant return and took the wind out the sails of the final fight. This isn't an old FF like say, FF7 where even if you got to level 99 you were still rewarded with the idea of sicking Knights of The Round on Sephiroth. However, after you beat the game you are granted with a gambit of high level (Level 120+!) dungeons to put your skills to the test. It has nothing to do with story, but if you love the gameplay system, it is very rewarding. Kingsglaive does help illuminate some things but I am /never/ a fan of periphery media to make a story understandable, it should be all digested via the game alone. This game is deserving of an 8/10 easily, there is that AAA polish that we used to associate with quality back in the old days 10 years ago. However, we did wait ten years for this game and while I was not one of those people. I can 100% understand that for some, 8/10 should not be good enough.

Orrin shall be in attendance, though I wish to cede my position of being representative of Ishgard in favor for someone more intimately tied to the temple knights as opposed to a retired dragoon promoted to officer.

Sign me up! The desk job is boring anyhow.

Think its about time to come back to this thread. Was surprised at the focus of the discussion more than anything. I do /not/ believe that the revelation of a 30 person crew invalidates any previous Dragoon RP from anyone barring extreme statements such as (we lost 200 that day or the sort) to me 30 is a large enough number to fudge. You'll never run into something with 30 + Dragoons in RP all at once. Only rub I can see here is that thirty is TOO small for any Dragoon to /NOT/ know another dragoon. Its a high school class and you'll at least be able to know their name and appearance ESPECIALLY because there are your teammates, your brothers in arms, your peers, your equals. Being a Knight Dragoon now carries with it a minor agreement to share information with other Knight Dragoon RP'ers you choose to socialize with, such as conceding prior knowledge of at least name to them. As opposed to before where I had believed that the group was large enough (numbering in several hundreds) that two dragoons could be strangers to each other. This is now more akin to SOLDIER than say SEED for the sake of FF equivalents. I had more issue in CONTINUING to RP as an active service Dragoon. Even I, in respect to lore had to forcefully retire Orrin even though personality wise he's the sort to die with a weapon in his hands. I have my RP reasons for why Orrin can accept not being on the front lines anymore but that's not important to the discussion. My topic title is admittedly click bait-y and overly dramatic but it was still accurate in response to being an /actively/ serving Knight Dragoon. 1 free spot is too exclusive in my books, its akin to being the WOL in claim. I'd have less issue with saying you were part of the group that helped NOAH in the crystal tower saga or even the current void ark saga than being that last Dragoon, because being on the WOL's short list of 23 other pals is much less exclusive than being the singular actively serving Dragoon while the rest are occupied by NPC spots. So whilst I must lay down Orrin's lance, I /do not/ believe that all his RP for 2 years prior has been invalidated and that others who feel that way can be assured that they can still claim to HAVE BEEN a Dragoon. Remember the book is MOST generous (slight sarcasm) in allowing it to be "about" 30 not 30 on the nose. There is stretch room. But as for current Dragoons? Make this an opportunity to explore change of lifestyle, of the realities of peace time when you only knew war. How your body, mayhaps your dragon within still yearns for combat. Leves speak of how Dragoons are conditioned to near PTSD rage at the slight jingling of scales, that is not the person who is going to adjust well to "normal society" visit the vietnam vet angle or the WWII vet angle...maybe more WWI. You can now actually freely visit other nations without contrivances, no "You're a dragoon, why the hell are you in the quicksands?" You still have your capabilities as well. We got Orland who tries to LB3 us in Hildebrand,thus showing that the limit break is not only not tied to the Azure Dragoon, but that our capabilities are innate. I have no idea where "only 30 soulstones exist" came from but clearly Orland still has his / is not needed. No one's /PAST/ RP has been destroyed in my books (unless you've been RP'ing being on patrol and active duty after the war like I have) but current RP is definitely being funneled in one direction in my opinion. Maybe Ishgard as part of the alliance will be forced to send aid to retake Ala Mhigo in Stormblood, maybe an invasion occurs or something happens to declare total war. Maybe the 4.0 quests will be about learning to ride dragons and become dragon dragoons (like the military unit as shown by Eva) and so THEN there will be wiggle room to swell the ranks once more. but until 3.5,until the expansion next year, I'm keeping Orrin miserable behind a desk. He's not allowed to be happy anyway.

Look at that, as seen there, there are only TEN (10) dragoons in active service by the end of the war. Even at their peak it was a small club of 30 or so. and thing is? I can point out 9 out of the 10 Estinien Heustienne (maybe not count because she was reported dead) Alaimbert of the Spiked Butt Brucemont (named dragoon that gives you your armor and appears in 50 - 60 drg quests) 5 nameless dragoons on the lead up to the moogle quests. that leaves ONE SPOT, POSSIBLY TWO (maybe 7 if you want to assume being those nameless dragoons) for an active service dragoon in RP....KOJI WHY

I am a believer that in game achievements do not result in RP justification because and possibly only because the current storyline as is speaks of one Warrior of light and only one. He is solely responsible for a ton of stuff and so things like "Nidhogg SLayer" cannot work because you are then claiming WOL status. and unlike warcraft where its a bunch of named characters and you play effectively as the infantry units in a campaign, this is a much more classical "One hero does everything" Story which does not lend itself for equal opportunity and inclusiveness. The battle to kill the lich king is massive, I can see why people want inclusion. Its why I will not fault someone for saying they were at the steps of faith, at cartenau (though that's a little hairy) or at the operation which allowed the WOL to enter Castrum Meridanum. but saying you were the one who punted titan in the nads? Or Ravana? Yeah, no thanks, keep it to your rp group who have agreed to such stipulations

Nope nope nope nope. I will ignore a canon RP'er. I will not approach them, nor will I try to involve myself in a convo who is currently engaged with a canon RP'er. Likewise I hope the same courtesy is afforded to me. Granted I am in a weird spot because I am part of a roll system with campaigns that can oft include named characters (thought it tends to be avoided) but it is more akin to a DM NPC in a dungeons and dragons game. Which to me makes more sense. Also these events are private with willing participants. Any Haurchefant at the quicksands is invisible to me.

GOd dammit, too late, was out being social...

Long time member of Roll Eorzea here, just want to toss my views in. It is very active and a large group, we have a skype chat for our members and if you look at the RP events listing you can see there are about 5 current storylines to dip your feet into with no binding obligations to any with varying tones and stakes and focuses. All manned by GMs of the linkshell. there is a master list of stories stickied to the top of the roleplay events board but I have helped enumerate them for you right here. Dead God's Chest http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=12768 Noirzea: http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16070'>http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16070 APE escape 2: Mammet Boogaloo http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16868&pid=263926#pid263926 Silent Voices: http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=17038 Lucy Loose Leves: http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=16070 Lucy Loose Leves are designed as one off singular events mimicking the leve structure of FFXIV, these are great ways to learn the intricacies of the system in generally low stake encounters. If you wish for access to the ruleset I have it here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/18v_ay0_VICFZHqLFJIkHkg2NtbKvCtTn3BQS2TKzL4o/edit and should you ever need it again just check the sticky. As you can see, very active with a lot of accommodation towards different play styles. We tend to generally be lore compliant and in some cases, as was Verad's campaign entirely prescient to future lore (His Scale in the sands campaign predicted or functioned off a lot of aspects about dragons that didn't explicitly exist prior to heavensward). each of these plotlines, like most DnD games have some house rules or special actions outlined and specific to the GMs in question. Though FATE is much more story focused than stat focused (it should be less about min maxing and more a tool for collaborative story telling) which is where philosophically it differs from 3.5 or 5.0 DnD. I'm generally happy with the overall design, its much more compelling than boring quicksand tavern RP and gives some bulk to the world. My overall enjoyment of MMO RP scene has been enhanced by this. However I must say that due to the dramatic swelling of our numbers the rules have been undergoing flux and revision (mostly to do with class balances). You can argue that it makes it a great time to join because soon people will be effectively fresh to the system. Or maybe you want to wait until it solidifies so you don't end up learning several different rulesets. Usually You will be more than welcome to just show up to an RP event listed and silently observe, even be part of the party chat to see the nitty gritty meta discussion and rolls between RP posts. Just ask the GMs. Only thing it may cost you is several hours due to the length that most events run.

I'm going to with my knee jerk reaction and say Orrin is an Irish car bomb. its a mixture of low class (draft beer) with sophistication (Whiskey and baileys) which is instantly polarizing ( at least where I live, its hard to convince my friends to take on an irish carbomb but they can drink tequila like its water). It demands attention because once the shot is dropped it will curdle if left alone. However it is a delicious drink in my opinion. much like Orrin he's a man of two worlds, a highborne father and a low borne mother who tends to hold views that instantly make him a fast friend/ally or an enemy. His methods make him one that draws attention to himself and usually demands to be dealt with when doing anything.

Sure, Can't hurt! here you go! https://wiki.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/images/4/45/Orrin_New_Profile.png

Sign me up for event 1 on Sunday. I'll step down if too many people want event 1.

THE FOURTH AND FINAL EDIT! THE MEETING WITH X'ZARANN! HYPE! Apologies for the serial posts. The older Miqo’te male led the way through the tunnels. He set a solid, unhurried pace. Orrin and X’ogun came out onto a larger cross-tunnel. Here and there, other Warriors and Clipped were going about, though any and all who came anywhere close stepped respectfully out of the way of Orrin, or, more likely, his escort. The place was dim, gleaming, and cold. Down the main path, and further, and then into a widening space set up like a room. Here there were carpets, divans and a chair in the middle. In the middle of the room, laid out on the carpets was Orrin's armor. Across the room the tunnel continued and by its mouth stood a strangely-familiar huntress. The huntress stood, ponytail draped over her shoulder, watching Orrin with that cat-like regard many of them affected. Her yellow eyes and general appearance tickled some recollection. Orrin’s gaze drifted on the oddly familiar huntress first, though his focus is drawn to the armor on display. "Go on, boy, get dressed. The Nunh is finishing His meeting." The male waited nearby, giving a nod to the huntress, who nods back, with equal depth. Orrin blinked and moved towards his armor. The male Miqo’te pulled out a small pocketbook and began to read, while the female simply kept watching Orrin. He first reached for the scaled skin-tight suit that made the majority of his armor, he expected a deep tear just under the left pectoral, a wound from the battle before but found it curiously repaired, it looked near pristine. His grip tightened about the suit but eventually he slips it on. Click. Clack. Snap. After the scale mail under suit was on he made quick work to affix his gauntlets, boots, pauldrons, the mechanized armor fitting and tightening with a metallic ring. He had learned to don the much bulkier Drachen Mail without a squire and had done the motions so many times, so often in times of crisis that it had become second nature. The much lighter and older dragonlancer armor was nothing in comparison. The huntress, waited until he is done dressing up fully. Her stance iwas almost statue-like, her tail not even moving, her eyes the only thing that shifted even a little as he prepared himself. He was fully garbed just in time for X'indro to amble out of the corridor ahead, the same corridor where the Nunh was supposed to be. His crystalline pink eyes lit up and he grinned as he saw the Dragoon. "Hey, it's my Outsider. He didn't heal up so badly, did he, Vurr?" He grins at the huntress, who more or less ignored him. Then looked at the older man. "Ogun too? Two Fallen for one prisoner, interesting..." His tail swished, and he strutted on by. "Well, have a nice meeting~" The girl, X'vurr, nods. "The Nunh will see you now." Her voice is familiar too, yet not, weirdly-so... When she moves in order to lead the way, it's almost jarring. She goes slightly ahead of him, down the passageway. Orrin’s gaze continued to hold on the huntress before donning his helm and walking forward. His armored footsteps upon the cave interior sounding out loudly, echoing, announcing his presence far before anything could possibly come in sight. Orrin himself followed quietly without a word, looking, scanning the walls. At this point, there were no other paths; the passage went on a little while, before ending in a larger chamber. This one had comparatively little in it for its size. Some fifty fulms across and thirty high, the ground dipped down from the entrance, giving the chamber the impression of a shallow bowl. In the middle, the impression was reinforced by a pool of clear water some ten fulms across, still and glittering in the crystalline light. Standing on the far edge, regarding his reflection, was a man who could only be X'zarann. The resemblence to Anstarra was discernible. A little taller, broader in the shoulder and more visibly muscular, he had the same fine features and physical flawlessness, the same green eyes, the same relaxed and confident-looking smirk, as if thinking of something mildly pleasant. His garb was not what Orrin would expect from a tribal. He had a fine sort of breastplate, which was cloaked with spiked shoulders. His hair was long, spilling below the shoulder; a few locks strayed over his face. Planted point-first into the ground to either side of him, were a pair of spears. One was Orrin's, the ancient forked spear that came from a time before Ishgard, before the war. The other is a curious, technologically-advanced-looking thing, with a design reminiscent of Allagan style, or perhaps Garlean. Magitek, at the least. Orrin walked forward, his footsteps continuing to echo out in the large chamber. He spied his weapon by the man's side and narrowed his gaze behind the visor. He halted at the far end of his side of the arena. X’zarann looked up as Orrin approaches. His gaze was not very much like Anstarra's. It burned with... something. Ambition, perhaps, arrogance, certainly, and a potential for cruelty, though An was hardly innocent of that. There was an edge to his physical beauty that was doubtlessly devastatingly alluring, to those attracted to such. "Ah, there you are. I trust you have found the accommodations.. Apropriately comfortable." Orrin remained silent, waiting at the opposite end of the basin, arms at either side stoically. Though his body language suggested a preparedness, as if were X'zarran to lug a lance at him he would be ready to move. The Nunh smirked lightly, and grasps Orrin's spear, jerking it free of the stone. "A fine weapon." He twirled it ably in his fingers, sliding it down one hand so as to examine the tip. "It is said a Warrior can be judged by their spear. Has it been used? Does it remain sharp? Where are the nicks in the length, those markings that show how desperate their defense." He grasped it below the head, and sets the butt down before him, point-up. Orrin tensed when X'zarann dare touched his weapon. His right hand closed into a tight fist, the metal of his clawed gauntlet rattling. "I have wondered if that remained true of Outsiders. You whose weapons are made in foundries by…craftsmen, who rarely - if ever - wield a weapon themselves. It did not seem likely…and yet in my travels, I have often been impressed by what Outsiders have managed to accomplish. Such feats of engineering, of innovation." His other hand plucked up the other weapon, twirling it and setting it down in his other fist, in a mirror of Orrin's. It glowed softly. "Above all else, I have sought to understand how things work. Power, artifice.. aether, magic. Cleverness and artistry, I find myself compelled to understand it. Do you know what I mean?" Still, he remained silent, the helm's visor hiding his eyes and mouth, betraying no emotion through his face. He stands at the other side, maintaining the distance between him and X’zarann X'zarann laughs softly, then smirks. "Ah, but what am I saying? How could you understand? Just looking at you, I can see you have as much profundity as this pool." Orrin glanced down, it was easy to discern now that the water that skirted the basin was only a few ilm at its deepest. "I might as well talk to your spear. From what my Warlord tells me, you speak far more eloquentl with it than without." He flashes his teeth in a grin. "Alas that the irony is likely lost upon you. How your kind loves to condescend mine, seeing us as only simple killers. Yet if you would glance upon your reflection..." He shrugs. "Still, I have use for weapons, as well. Living, and otherwise. So what say you, Orrin Halgren. Shall I make a weapon of you?" Orrin inhaled sharply then exhaled slowly "What makes you think I'll ever serve you? Turn against Nihka, Anstarra?" He remains at a distance "You made your first mistake against me a year ago, your second when your rabid dogs for huntresses brutalized my friends. Assuming I'll ever align my cause with you is your third and last." X'zarann smirksed, a satisfied gleam entering his eyes, as though he already scored a point. "Ah, not mute after all." He tilted his head. "Do not speak to me as though your people have never committed any atrocities. I visited one of the dungeons in your magnificent city of Ishgard. Such glory, standing astride such maleficence. The hypocrisy of it veritably took my breath away. Would you deny that cruelty exists in every society, at one strata or another? Would you deny that it serves a purpose?" He shakes his head. "No. One such as you would not be so naive. Some of my huntresses are cruel, yes... but it serves a purpose yet." He tilted his head the other way then swished his tail. A smile wrote itself on his lips. "As to the other... it is gratifying to know that I was correct. That it was you, who my Fallen took the Wyrmtear from. Are you angry, at such theft? You, who had to commit murder to even claim the relic in the first place?" Orrin would be staring daggers were it not for the unblinking red eyes of his messail masking his expression. "Shows how little you know, I had shed no blood for that tear. That cursed relic should have met its end back then, its only existence will cause more bloodshed." He said "Though not that you care, I've seen your sort before, rule by fear and misinformation. You call outsiders weak and yet cling to their weapons. A storm shall come, X'zarann, one that will claim your tribe, and they shall know it was a calamity brought by your hands." X'zarann barked a laugh. "Then you are a thief yourself! For the tear's origins lie in blood. And one who is meant to take it, is intended to use it; one who would simply destroy it is not intended to own it. And you speak of bloodshed as though it were some terrible thing. As if this weapon has not drunk rivers' worth." He lifted Orrin's spear, holding it parallel to the ground. "Anyroad, make no mistake. Outsiders, as a rule, ARE weak... but clever. After all, it was Outsiders who made us, made my people strong in the first place. Made us strong enough to escape our enslavement to them… so, clever, but perhaps not wise. To wit..." He flipped Orrin's spear in the air. It spuns, in a tight, gleaming blur. Orrin watched his weapon soar through the air, though a half glance was kept on X'zarann, half expecting it to be a distraction. The spear drove head down into the stone, in the middle of the pool. Orrin growls "That blade was put away a millennium ago, only now has it been drawn to smite those deserving." He says walking towards it. "Shows what you know. The tear is born of hatred, it corrupts and does nothing else. It is relic of an era past." he neared his weapon "And in the past it should remain!" he said, reaching for his weapon. He'd pry it out of the ground and brandish it towards X'zarann in a single extended arm, grip just halfway down the haft. Orrin grits his teeth, he can still feel the wound just below his chest shooting a shock of pain up the length of his shoulder and arm. "You can't control it, no one can! Better men than you have tried! You'll be a thrall, out of control, you’ll destroy your own sept with it, if you even care for it.” X'zarann laughed, low and long, a growling, rolling sound as he slowly brandished and wheeled his own advanced spear. "And that shows what you know, Dragoon." Gracefully, holding his weapon pointed out in extension with the butt behind his back, he cocked his head up. "There are no better men than me. There are no men like me, at all. Come. Let me show you." Orrin's fully extended arm with his spear drew back in a spinning flourish over his head before resting behind him, spear hanging low at half stance "Even if I fall, others shall come." he then brought his weapon properly in front of him in Ishgardian Lancer style. "Is this what you wanted? Why I'm a prisoner instead of a skull on a heap like so many others?" "And what if it is?" X'zarann grinned, showing his teeth brightly. "Is it so strange? That I would wish to test my skills against a formidable Warrior? Who held seven of my hunters and huntresses at bay on his own, including one of my Warlords. Who, if the rumors are true, fought against a Primal…alongside my sister." His eyes gleamed brightly, fiercely. "Will you tell me you are not curious? To know how you may fare against me? Surely you have heard tales of me, by now, from Anista if nowhere else. I value power, and skill, and challenges. To fight only the weak is to stagnate." "You risk dispelling your claim to godhood?" He said digging in his stance, steeling himself "so be it" X'zarann laughs, and whirled his own spear in a tight arc, warming up his muscles and loosening for a fight. "If you give me enough of a challenge, I will show you the power of the Radiance. For now though, let us see..." As he did his warm up Orrin sparred no time and leaps into the air in a high arc, upon cresting, PSHOOM, like a spear of light he rockets down to clash with X'zarran with strikes that clearly intended to be fatal X'zarann whipped his spear up to parry. It was a motion remarkable not only for its raw skill, but also for the expertise in which fought against the favored weapon of his tribe. There was a bright, ringing clash of arms and X'zarann skidded back a fulm. He looked back at the small cut on his arm he grinned fiercely. "Ahh yes! I knew you would make this fun!" he said before lunging viciously! Orrin’s eyes then widen suddenly as the Miqo'te lunged at him with speed, He barely deflected the thrust with a powerful counter swing of his spear crosswise which of course sent a jolt of pain from his chest, up his shoulder and down the length of the arm, bordering on tingling and numbness. "ngh.." He stepped forward past X’zarann to roll with the strike and round to face the Nunh. Orrin then charged, as he does so the aether coalesced around him, a draconic roar born of the aether itself as the phantom scales warped around him in azure hue. X'zarann's eyes sharpened as Orrin invoked a power he only heard of. Orrin approached with another vicious thrust aimed at center mass only to have X’zarann whip his spear fiercely downwards, driving Orrin’s attack down into the stone; the ground explodes around the terrible, uncontrolled impact, sending shards of crystalline rock in all directions. "Haha… what amazing gall you have, calling me out for wanting to use the power of dragons for my own! I'll agree with X'indro. Outsiders are endlessly entertaining!" Teeth bared, he shifted to the side and lunged, using Orrin’s own momentum to add to the speed, his advanced lance coming in like a comet. "What this is, is /our/ curse, our cross to bear!" he said with anger, deflecting the lunge upwards, rearing his lance back for a counter thrust, digging his feet into the ground. Though Orrin fully expected him to swing downward in a block. Properly grounded Orrin rocketed off the ground and with the newfound aethereal power. The Nunh blocked air and by the time he could look up Orrin was already descending upon him like a Levin bolt from above, weapon bearing down upon X’zarann in an overhead slam. He recoiled from the ferocious blow, a cross wise block that caught the spear head on the shaft over his head. His legs buckled below the strike before redirecting Orrin off to the side, sending him into a roll across the ground. "Yes... now I begin to see how you stood up to my Warriors! I was right to face you myself. Now let me show you some of the mastery of the Nunh!" He clenched his fist on his lance, and there seems to almost be a shimmering of light in the air, a halo of sublime force. When X’zarran lunged with his lance this time it was with no frills, only vastly increased speed. Orrin had only gotten back to his feet and his eyes widened “too fast” he thought and in desperation he brings his weapon up to defend but only managed to prevent it from running him through. The parry directed it into his shoulder instead. He grunted in pain and tried to channel it. With spear still lodged in him, Orrin struck with his own with the one good arm, aimed at the Nunh’s gut. X'zarann clicked his tongue as he ably, swiftly defended against the blow, pulling the spear out of the now mangled pauldron with inhuman speed, crossing their weapons pinning Orrin in place for a moment as X’zarann met his gaze with his own. "Your injuries slow you. You are powerful, stronger than your own body can encompass. Do you not tire? Of being weaker than you deserve? Of drowning in your own might? Surrender, and I will FREE you of your shackles!" His eyes gleamed with luminescence, his words carrying weight, force…he effect similar to how his attack was empowered, only now, it was his words... Orrin could feel the truth to the Nunh’s words, but his mind would not falter where his aging body would break. Orrin growled back in response "I am strong enough!" the aether swelled, the roar rising in volume. He broke the deadlock on might alone, deftly he parried another entangling strike from X’zarran, knocking the glowing weapon wide, exposing the Nunh’s chest. Orrin gripped his weapon with both hands and thrusted the attack came in fierce and powerful it drove home, right into X'zarann's chest. The horrid sound of flesh and bone torn and cracking rung out. The Nunh looked at him wide eyed... and then laughed, the sound resonating, Light rose from within him. "Oh, you are strong, yes." He gripped the spear and jerked it out, leaving a hole without blood... which filled with light, leaving only unbroken flesh behind when it subsided. "But not strong enough." Orrin’s assault is given pause by the sight of X’zarann shrugging off a blow that would put down any man. “I had to see it for myself…” Orrin reared his weapon back into ready position but then winces, the draconic aether that surrounded him seemed to flare, licking at his flesh like flames at a pyre, trying to consume his form “No…not now” X’zarran stepped back, baring his teeth, and flourishes his hand; in it, there was the gleam of a trio of materia. "Let me show you my own... inherited might." He pitched the spheres into his open mouth and blinding, electric, flaring energy bursted from him. It coursed through his veins, floods his eyes, and he seemed to swell, to practically float with the awesome power roiling inside him. Orrin tried to shake off the roiling rage of his inner dragon and resumes his attack but X'zarann parried so quickly. Nihka's words come back to mention now, faster than Orrin could see, impossibly strong... there was no flourish, no splash or dash in his moves, they are sharp, frame-perfect, and backed with literally godlike power. The clashing parry forced Orrin to /recoil/ with the impact... and X’zarann followed it with a strike almost too quick to comprehend. Orrin had barely gotten his footing back from the strike when he sensed X’zarann’s approach. Orrin lets out a gasp, on reflex he brought his weapon crosswise, catching one of the tines on that ornate magitek spear on the shaft on the weapon. His extended arms buckle, a shot of pain shooting through his chest as he felt his collarbone nearly fracture, under the force his shoulders tried to bare. He was pushed back several fulms from the strike. He gritted his teeth, white knuckle grip upon his weapon. Nearly dropping to one knee he holds against the assault. Orrin shunted aside the spear, panting, heaving, Blood was pooling seeping through his scales near the wound he sustained earlier. His vision blurred, he could not discern if the three Nunh’s he saw were real or not. "Not here, not like this..." he pants and growls "Your power, Millette, I need more..." he says, his hold on his weapon wavering. Then suddenly there was humongous flaring of aether, almost blindingly so. One would expect to see aetherial blade to form followed by a series of destructive slashes to be wrought upon X’zarann but instead the energy petered out. As the light faded Orrin fell to his knees and then backwards sitting upon his legs, letting go of his weapon, letting clatter to the ground as head back. X'zarann stood, blazing with power, his features somehow more remote, implacable... perfected behind the veil of deific might. He stepped forward and lifted his spear. Light seems to gather on the tip, as he pressed it to Orrin's brow... saying something, though his words are a fog, but theirs is a terrible weight of meaning... and then all is darkness. ________________________________________________________________ "Ah, he awakens...”The face that greeted Orrin isn't one he recognizes, and yet is familiar soon came understanding, if not comprehension. For the face was Ishgardian. Or the man's clothes were, anyroad. They were the clothes of a chirurgeon of House Haillenarte. "You had us worried, ser." Orrin sat up, or at least tried to. It was that sort of sudden rising that came from combat being the last thing one sees. "Pray, my lord, your injuries!" The man protested, gently trying to usher Orrin back into a prone position. "You're safe here, though it's the Fury's own grace that you were found in time. Left in a snowbank to die, it seemed, and one of our patrolmen had the fortune of spotting you before you froze to death. We've been warming and treating you for two days now." He blinked "Left to die..?" he leaned back into the infirmary bed, it was a familiar feeling. "That makes no sense, he mutters. Trying to recall the moments before he lost consciousness. Those last moments.. the heat of combat, with the blazing draconic rage filling his consciousness.. then a terrible burning as X'zarann's lance touched his brow.. the sharp pain of sudden migraine drives it all away for the moment. He clenched his teeth and held his head with his right arm, exhaling and inhaling through his mouth almost in a snarl. He laid back down. "My weapon, my armor, where are they?" "Your arms and armor are here, my lord. Right there." He pointed off to the side, where indeed Orrin's raiment has been set up on a stand in the proper manner. He moved away for a moment, and returned with a bowl of broth. "Please, drink this. You must recover your strength." He reached for the bowl, drinking in deep the broth. Soon enough it was drained of its contents and he rested on his back. "Thank you." he sighed and closed his eyes, it was a fitful slumber.

PART 3! one more part to go! Orrin would perk up to the sound of footsteps. Nihka approached the guard outside of his gaol. She had more medicine and clothes in her arms. Without any sun or sky, it was difficult to tell, but Orrin guessed it may have been a day or two since he last saw her. Nihka raises a brow as she walks in, she saw that the cell was empty. She looked side to side for her friend. "....Orrin..." "Nihka." he says, his voice was far from the weak whimper it was when he was first treated. He was exactly where he was since that meeting with the cliptail: leaning up against the wall by the exit. Nihka tilted her head slightly. "....are.... are you.. hungry..." she showed the bundle of cloth in her arms. "... cold..." He nodded "Food...food would be nice” Nihka nodded back and kneeled in front of him, unrolling the bundle. There was not much, just some dried meat and fruits, a clump of what looks like dried meat and berries smooshed together in tallow. Not a fancy meal, but energy dense and able to keep for a long time. The bundle of cloth itself is some fresh clothes. Again, nothing fancy...but maybe a little warmer. He did not seem to care what was offered, he would go for it quickly, devouring the food "Thank you." he said breathlessly "Water?" his voice begun to rasp. Hands curled into tight fists, his body was so visibly tense, so bundled up with rage and hatred, but in what direction was it pointing? Nihka grimaced a bit, and turns away. She went to check if there was a jar or jug or pot of water in the small room. Her tail swished as she searched. It was not hard, there were not many places to hide something like that in here. She returned with a small jar she had filled with water, one brow raised as she looked to him, handing it to him. Orrin goes for the jar and started to quickly cup water from it into his mouth. It was a desperate quiet minute as he gulped loudly and then reclines back against the wall. He paused for a brief moment, leaning his head back against the wall "I was right…" he said softly, looking to Nihka. "... right about..." Nihka tilted her head, watching. "I'm no prisoner of mercy." He said, holding his gaze "They want to use me...for something." "..i not...ah... never argue.. particular fact..." She sat back on her heels. "...d..do you know purpose..." "I do not." he said "One of their slaves came in" he peeled off his blanket to expose his chest "Changed the bandages" Nihka nodded, then gestured to the fresh change of clothes. "... definite see use... or curious... learn about y-you... ... probable want information.... Orrin goal... location.. ally.... ... possible will ask perform.. task..." "They will get nothing out of me" he said scowling. Nihka's lips thin, then she nodded once more "...i understand..." She softly let out a “hmm”, looking over the bandages. He looked to the fresh change of clothing "thank you Nihka.." he said and looks to her. "Whatever your plans are, do them quickly, before you see me any worse off." "..i... not understand..." She tilted her head. "You think you can change them, make them see something else…" his icy eyes seemed to burn "Isn't that right? That's the only reason you are here." Nihka shook her head, then sighed quietly. Her ears flicked towards the direction of the door, and the guard. "...yes.... ah... and no...." He narrowed his gaze, noticing how her ears flicked in direction towards the guard, he said nothing, waiting quietly for a response. "... h here. ...to learn... to try understand.... to try talk.... help avoid death..." Her ears twitched a bit and she smiles to Orrin weakly. "Take care Nihka, you tell them the values of not killing and they'll learn how to abuse it. It very well may be that your teachings are what is keeping me alive for now, but perhaps it would have been better if I was killed." "... death never better...." Nihka shook her head. "...if dead.... no chance change... no chance learn or grow..." "No chance to make things worse either." he responded, wrapping the blanket around himself, holding himself with it. The occasional puff of condensed breath in the cool air slipped from his lips. "They haven't harmed me since my arrival." he said in a lowered tone "Whatever they need me for, they need me healthy." "... no reason hurt you.... no benefit..." Nihka shrugged. "...I suspect just talk..." He laughed bitterly "No reason? As if they need one. They need a reason not to harm me. Breaking arms, legs, starvation, all these does not stop a mouth from moving, in fact, may make it easier." he focuses on Nihka intensely "You've not seen war, nor are you an Inquisitor's son." he said the icy eyes pleading "You fool yourself if you believe otherwise, which is why, whatever your goal is, you best work quickly before they get what they want from me, or I die from my refusal." "...you misunderstand....." A pause and her ears lowered. She shrugged. "....plenty reason not hurt.... n..no... no reason...t..to hurt.... not important.... ..but....ah... I know... Nuhn value strength... admire strength...." She points at him very briefly. "...I assume reason not hurt...is.... because want talk... not interrogate...." "What strength? My capture was far from some glorious last stand. It makes no sense" Nihka pondered this quietly for a moment, looking intently at Orrin. "We were led into ambush, one I knew was coming and yet still we went, confident...was foolish.” "..w..." Nihka frowned, brows furrowed, stuttering a bit, before finally managing a few words, her head tilted. ".... reason... for.... come...." He tilted his head in turn "My reason? or yours?" "..you... reason... reason come... despite ambush expect..." "We needed information, needed to know how many were there, where they are, how to get there...its a miqo'te tribe, they are never too large..." he says looking to her. "I had expected a need to retreat, but not on the first day, No way they had the troops to cover 12 days worth of land.” ".... not know lot... miqo'te tribe..." Nihka tilts her head. "...lot about... about scout... about territory....." She frowned slightly. "....if just interest number.... reason not ask Nihka...." “You know what I'd do with those numbers." ".... prepare force attack... kill.... kill tribe... kill child... kill kitten...." "I'd do what I must." He looked at her "And that's why I could not ask you." "... you still plan kill child..." "The children are far from innocent, they take them with them for the hunts, are there and help, help with the mutilation, the killing, the ambushes. We would strike down all that would fight when we attack." he says, face cold, distant "I do what is necessary, I do not enjoy it." "... Deny chance learn.. chance grow.... chance love..." Nihka closed her eyes. ".... vengeance... just.... cause more vengeance.... violence just cause violence..." "It ends, when there are none left." he said coldly "They'll have their chance when their Nunh's head is on a spit, should they not see it at that moment then mercy, kindness…all wasted on them." he took a heavy breath "People like me exist, so that people like you need never see this, never have to make these decisions." "...a single chance.... a moment.... and... no second chance..." Nihka tilted her head. "This /is/ their second chance" he said looking at her "The clipped that was here spoke that it is cowardly to die, we'll see if their words hold any meaning." Nihka raised a brow. "... first chance... explain..." "It was when they decided to expand, to not stay in the mountains where they would have been left alone." he kept the blanket tightly wrapped "Much like when Thordan and his knights twelve doomed Ishgard to its war, so too has their Nunh. They'll have their second chance when he is deposed" "...is not chance...." Nihka frowned. "... for tribe.. for chance learn mercy... learn love... most tribe... first chance..... if....if you kill Nunh.... will be first chance.... for most tribe.... and you will condemn... single failure... like clip...." "It won't be like clipping, it will be quick, no humiliation, no torture like what these barbarians do." : "... for single failure... deny any chance learn...." "Their lesson will be that their Nunh is no god." "...if...y..you can even ...bleed....Nunh...." "Come off it, Nihka. You are starting to sound like them!" he said with a growl. "I've felled dragons, survived primals and voidsent alike. There are no gods but the twelve above." "...I watch Akiko stab... in chest... not bleed ... I watch Nunh fight...." She glanced over towards the door, her ears flicking. ".... strong.... incredible proud... and... ah..... you will upset huntress... guard.... keep insult....." Orrin locks eyes with Nihka, gaze unwavering "Only would prove me right if she comes in here to hurt me whilst I'm injured and unarmed. They are too meek to dare challenge me on equal footing. Let their precious feelings be hurt." Nihka smirked a bit and nodded. "....d..do you think.... fight primal... alone ... can...." "No, I've no delusions of that. but none these huntresses are one." Nihka nodded, still not looking away from the entrance. "....Nunh.... try avoid fight Nunh...... will probable chance talk soon..." Her ears lower slightly as she realized that in a way he was right, she had started to sound like them. But it's just... she was just explaining the facts of the matter... He lifts his head up to look at Nihka "I have not much choice, without a weapon I am not capable of doing much." Nihka turned to look him in the eyes. "..... even weapon... with weapon... unless want fight primal alone...." "With a weapon, I can leave..." Nihka's brows furrowed and she tilted her head. "..... fight escape..." "If necessary, my chances are much worse without a weapon" He looks to Nihka "You'll think they'll let me go? You think if I give them what they want they will leave me be? I will die, Nihka.” He casts on arm out to the side in emphasis, slamming a fist against the cave wall “And if I am going to, I will do so fighting, not in some cell like an animal." Nihka's expression falls. ".... depend.... on Nunh ask.... suppose.... but..." Nihka squeaks and cuts herself off when she hears a new voice. "You may have your chance, Outsider." She turns to look to the door again, ears back. A man stands in the door, one whom Nihka had seen once before. Somewhat older-looking, a tribal like the rest, and built tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. A single scar traced over his face, that and his tightly pulled-back hair lending a severe, angular cast to him. A pair of spears are holstered in an X upon his back, and silvery eyes regarded the both of them with a calm, piercing sense of observation. Nihka stands and bows her head in greeting. Just her head, mind, respectful but not submissive. Orrin however turn towards the Miqo’te and where Nihka bowed he'd not look away, ever defiant. The man's lip curved in a light smile. "What? No bold proclamations? No threats, or taunts? Ishgardians." A soft chuckle, and he shakes his head. "The Nunh wishes to speak with you. Follow. Or be dragged. That would be amusing." He turned, and started to head off. Nihka looked to Orrin, head tilted. ".... probable....ah... not enough time change new clothes.... " Orrin pushed up from the wall and stood, looking to Nihka "The moment of truth." he then allowed the blanket he used as a cloak to fall fall, the bandages wrapped about his chest the only sort of modesty aside from the slacks he wore. "Nihka, pray we see each other again." "~Menphina's love guide you~"

Part 2 of the skype RP cleaned and edited for readability Orrin tossed and turned, eventually waking from his slumber. Lifting a hand up out from under the blanket, he moved to rub at his eyes. It was still the shining crystalline ceiling. He tries to sit up and gasped and held his rib. He looked down and saw the bandages and he winced. He turned his gaze to the exit of his cell, there was no door, merely an opening in the rock and crystal. No guard is visible, but line of sight being what it is, it was just as likely that one was just around the corner. Orrin tried to stand, gripping at his chest, he limped his way over to the far wall with the exit. The blanket was cloaked over his back for warmth. He moved, skirting around, to at least get a look at the guards since all he could see were walls. Just then, there is the barest whisper of a foot's tread, and a girl, or young woman, came into the room. "Oh!" It is one of the tribals dressed in cloth robes, by her movement alone it was not necessary to see her tail to know she was one of the Clipped. Her demeanor as she came in was of one who practiced being invisible… though she straightens, and even frowns a little upon finding Orrin up and about. "You should not be moving… Outsider bodies are frail, and the Nunh will be displeased if you damage yourself…" It was said without mockery, like a simple fact. The wounded man leaned against the wall by the exit, looking at the clipped Miqo'te. His icy blue eyes gazing at her, brows furrowed "My armor, my weapons, where are they?" He says, sliding down the surface, slumping to the ground, his knees brought up to his chest. “You must rest," she insisted, sitting down and checking his eyes, his pulse. "Your possessions belong to the Nunh, now, as do you..." She was very gentle with her touch, reminiscent of Nihka, in some ways, with blue eyes a softer shade than Orrin's. "You should think on how best to please the Nunh, if you want to live. If you live, then maybe your things may be returned to you…" Her tone was placating, as though she did not truly believe it, but wanted him to relax all the same. Orrin at any other time would have tried to stop the Miqo'te from touching him in the slightest, but he did not have strength, he could not bat her away. She does not seem particularly bothered by his resistance, letting him tire himself out before resuming her work. There's a deep patience in her, the endless mindset of one for whom the task they have is all they have, and so they'll do it...However, much like a wounded, cornered hound Orrin growled even in defeat. "I belong to no one...." he looked at her "Where are we? I know I am a captive Falling Stars tribe, but do they live here? Deeper in the caves? Are we far from them?" “These are the Crystal Caves, the den of the Nunh. There are many of us here, but it is not the Home Sept." “The Nunh does not live with the home sept?" he said, looking down at her then up at her when she stood and basically his gaze followed whichever direction she was as she tended to him. "The Nunh is among us, yet apart, as it must be. The Home Sept is not so far that those who seek His favour cannot walk here easily." She checks his bandages, then gently proceeded to unwind them, in order to replace them. He winced as the cloth clung to his body due to all the dried, coagulated blood. "Your tribe has killed so many of my people, why have I been spared?" She shruged, her robe rustling slightly. "This one does not guess at the desires of Warriors… but.." She lowered her voice slightly, as the cloth comes off and she took her own damp cloth from a bucket, wiping away crust and blood alike. "Warlord X'indro must have found something of interest in you. Perhaps you may give knowledge to the Nunh." He shuddered and shivered from the icy-cold water rolling his battered, body "He'll learn nothing from me. I'll not speak to a barbarian like him." he said through gritted teeth. The girl's ears flick back, and she frowned… but shrugs, in the end. "Always may choose to die. Unless the Nunh does not allow. This one's task is only to make sure the Outsider healer's work is done while she is away, that you may meet the Nunh when He wishes it. If you choose to flee from life after, this is your choice." "You follow a Nunh who'd mutilate his own?" She blinked. "Is the Nunh." As if that was all the explanation anyone could ever need. "The Nunh is naught but a man, a cruel evil man." She hissed slightly and tossed a quick, nervous glance toward the way she came. Then leaned in, ears folded back. "Outsider should not say foolish things. The Nunh wishes you alive, but if a Warrior were to hear and be insulted, you would be given pain, or maybe even scarred." She drew back, and sets to hurriedly winding new bandages about him. Orrin looked at her with those icy eyes of his. It was that old, tired glare of a man who had seen countless deaths, countless fights "I'll not bow to one who rules by fear. The Nunh can bleed, I'll prove it." She met his gaze, but then shied away from it, shaking her head, muttering as she sets about finishing up his bandages. "Outsiders are stupid, it is known. Do not know anything, do not know the Nunh's Radiance. Outsiders are cruel, invading, trying to kill us. Outsiders are weak, and jealous, trying to take from us, enslave us. Outsiders are cowards, fleeing into death rather than face life. This is known..." Orrin’s fury rose, flickering errant aether coalescing ever so slightly "You dare speak to me of cruelty?" He said "I saw my friend devoured from the legs up alive by one of your kind, saw how you flayed flesh from the skulls you piled up. Your Nunh lies to you, any violence now has been brought upon yourselves by his own greed. Why do you think now, after so long of being left alone that there is conflict like this? Your Nunh is poison." The girl shook her head, sitting back. "Outsiders cannot understand." She eyed the flickering with a little frown, ears folding back. "Outsiders enslave and kill and lie. They lie, and so think others lie. But the Nunh does not lie. The Nunh does not need to lie. The Nunh is all, to us. He follows, we lead. Why would He need to lie? He guides." She pushed herself to her feet, with a pitying look. "You Outsiders, who do not have a Nunh, can only be lost." "Then what are you?" he said "Are you not a slave? Forced to work and serve? Raped and dealt with as any other pleases? You are no freer than I am." She flinched. "I…I am Clipped." She raised her chin, ears folded back. "I was not fit to be a Warrior, but I can still serve the Sept. I am weak, so Warriors can be strong, and protect the Sept. I make myself useful, so that Warriors can fight, and the Blessed can rest, and Kittens can grow, and the Nunh can lead. I know MY place, Outsider…and it is still above yours." With a soft growl, she turned and fled the room on light, quick steps, taking her things with her.

This is a cleaned up log of Skype RP with Orrin, Nihka, and Anstarra. Things have been moved around/edited for the sake of ease of reading and a more written narrative experience Several Days after the failed northward expedition into Xelpahtol There was blackness. Though Orrin did not know it, he was unconscious for a while. Maybe his captors kept him that way, maybe it was the toll of his fight or maybe the toll his inner dragon took upon him was getting worse and worse. Regardless, time seemed to hold little meaning in this place; there were no windows in this subterranean gaol. The walls are coated with crystal and ice, the air is cool but not freezing, and light seems to come dimly from the walls and ceiling. The chamber is small enough, fifteen fulms in any direction. There was a pot for necessities and some layered mats as a bed. Orrin is dressed lightly, left only with his tightly bound slacks that made up the bottom-half of his under armor and basic bandages around his chest. His weapon and armor were nowhere to be found and though he was not shackled by the wrists and ankles, he was, for all intents and purposes, a bloody heap. Face down, his broken body laid upon the cold unforgiving ground in a puddle of his own blood that managed to seep through his dressed wound. It was black from the exposure to the air and cold and the scent of copper would be readily apparent even to a Hyur and so could only be imaginably overwhelming to a Miqo'te. He was shivering, his breath could be seen condensing against the floor. In the distance, footsteps could be heard echoing in the distance, bouncing off the shining walls of what was known as the Crystal Caves. Nihka approached, dressed for cold weather and wearing a fire aspected choker like a strange negative image of her fiancée. X'indro is about; Nihka saw him briefly, a laid-back-looking male with short, spiked hair and crystalline pink eyes. Though Nihka did not know him, he did stand out because a pair of similar-looking warriors tailed him, one male and one female. He was busy, leaving a meeting with the Nunh, but still waved amiably at Nihka on the way, giving her an interested look. Nihka steps into the doorway of the prisoner's room. She hadn't expected anything like this... but in exchange for free passage and the ability to treat the clip tails (and freedom to teach them things) she is somewhat beholden to the whims of the Nuhn. Nihka taps lightly on the wall. Something to intentionally give away her presence so as not to startle the patient. Nostrils flared, and through the scent of blood she recognized something familiar .Her ears drooped completely against her head, and she approached. Recognizing the horrible state of her patient, Nihka set to work without any further attempts to announce her presence. Kneeling beside him and pulling out medical supplies, medicine she'd brought with the intent to share with the clipped... looks like it might need used. She had some clean bandages... maybe not enough but hopefully… She checked his pupils, pulse, all vital signs, and worked to clean the injuries and apply her typical alchemic salve. Not enough to instantly cure but definitely help speed recovery. She worked quietly, diligently, and efficiently, lost in thoughts about what could have happened. Orrin’s pulse was weak, but steady, she quickly realized that the Dragoon had seen worse days, deeper wounds. She had treated far worse as well. It was the sheer negligence of his captors that had left him in this state. Usually Orrin would be able to limp back home for proper physicking and treatment. Not this time however, beaten and then dragged over the Xelphatol Tundra had worsened the injury, an old wound on the verge of healing had reopened under his left peck and was the reason for the hemorrhaging. His fingers were curled into gnarled, clawed positions, his body was tense and wound like spring under pressure. Nihka grimaced, and pulled out supplies for stitches, lots of gauze, and some of her more potent healing concoctions, force feeding the unconscious Dragoon with a gentle touch and massage to the throat. Soon enough the Hyur relaxed thanks to the salve. Though he still shivered, being left in a pool of chilled, coagulated blood had done him few favors. If his captors were negligent, Nihka was the opposite. Once she was sure the bleeding was stopped, she took off her coat to drape over him in order to keep him warm while she got up to ask the guard for some blankets. Naturally such a request would end up fulfilled by a cliptail... and not the proud huntress standing guard. Nihka would eventually procure (rough, uncomfortable) blankets to drape over Orrin. It wouldn't be instant, but the added bandages, the coat and then finally the blanket would eventually stop his shivers and pained moans. Nihka took her time packing up her healing supplies, watching and waiting for some sign that Orrin would be okay before she felt comfortable leaving. A few minutes would pass, Orrin'd appear stable, twenty minutes now and not a sound, but a bit past a half bell the wounded soldier would let out a pained, nearly airless gasp, eyes wide, hand outstretched towards the cave ceiling, a sudden act that of course would cause him pain, turned to his side curled up into a ball, the neatly laid out blanket wrinkled and folded over from the sudden movement, barely covering him anymore. Nihka watches with a frown, quietly observing. As Orrin curled up, she stood and moved to adjust the blanket to drape over him once again. He feels a touch and turns towards it, teeth grit from the stinging pain "...Nihka..?" Nihka offers a small, weak smile to the male. "..injure... try not move...." He smiles softly "Thought I saw an angel…" his gaze flits about around the cavern "It is like Halone's frozen halls..." he keeps looking and his eyes narrow: just behind Nihka, within view was a silver-haired miqo'te standing guard at the door "Where are we..." his softness quickly faded into a low growl. "....crystal cave.... fallen star tribe land...." Her ears lowered slightly."... please stay still...." Orrin would not, of course, heed any such statement and try to prop himself up on his elbows, blanket rolling down to his hips exposing the fresh bandages that now started to show signs of being bled through. Not a moment later he collapses again onto his back as a shock of pain rolls over him. "Why.." ".. because if move... will... tear injure...." She sighed and moved in to check on the bandages she had applied. ".... limit supply bandage... please... lay back...." "Not that, I know that..." he said "Why...are you here..." Nihka raises a brow. ".... information.... chance talk..t..to tribe.... have few patient.. in. tribe... need treat..." She glanced back to the guard spying on them. "You...you are helping them?" he gasped and then coughs up a fit, spitting up some blood that had not the chance to escape till now "Helping them maim and kill?" "...no.... I am..try... prevent fight.... prevent kill..." She turned back to look at Orrin, frowning sternly. "..t..to avoid blood...." "They…killed two score men, stripped their skin clean from their bones, piled their skulls in monument...Ngh.." he could not keep his head up, he stared at the icy cave walls "You only tend to their wounded...let them go back for more..." he gasped. Nihka's eyes narrowed. "...not tend huntress..." Her tail flicked and twitched. "...tend to clip.... huntress proud.... refuse treat... not need treat...” Nihka sighed. ".... try show...outsider not beast... show possible dialog... with... outsider... instead hunt... instead kill...." She poked his chest gently. "...like prisoner... instead kill..." "You think they keep me out of mercy?" He groaned in pain "my... imprisonment is only a step to more bloodshed…" he gasped those agonizing, airless gasps, struggling to breath, his left hand gripping helplessly at his chest. "... Orrin..." She sighed, trying to press on his shoulders to hold him still. ".... relax....or will tear stitch..." He could not hold still, he felt like he was suffocating, he rolled over, propped onto one weak arm, he retched onto the floor, that coppery tinge filling the air freshly once more. He then collapsed beside the blood, quivering. Nihka growls softly."...do... i... need... restrain..." Yet… she moves to adjust the blanket again to keep him covered. He seemed settled now, his body concluding its removal of dead blood from his body. He closed his eyes involuntarily, his breathing was quick and shallow. Nihka frowned, her ears lowered as she watched him convulse and cough. "....Orrin.... " she paused "... reason Orrin here...." He is shuddering, letting out the occasional groan of pain, clearly trying to hide his suffering, his fingers digging into the blanket with near white-knuckle force, or what he felt it to be. In reality it was quite feeble. Nihka caressed his forehead, brushing sweat slicked hair out of the way. Orrin turned to lay flat on his back, only position he could rest without putting pressure on his ribs and the stitched up wound. His face scrunched up tightly, soon enough the delirium of his injuries would claim him and he'd drift off into a restless, pained sleep, but he was better off than before. Nihka closed her eyes and sighed softly. Eventually, she stands and pulls her coat back on, gathering her things. She did as asked... she had more work to do. Nihka held onto one thought: Hopefully, this was all worth it. Hopefully, lives would be saved.

I honestly see no issue if you wish to RP an FFXIV moogle. There are costumes, the moogle head with the paws and claws and the body piece. Shove it on a lala and you get a rather portly moogle of larger size (which do exist). If you have access to those tools, or hell, even if you don't have access to those tools, if you rp with a group that accepts you, it should be no issue. The above statement is the most important, playing with a group that accepts you and your willingness to keep searching. If you have that, doesn't matter if you are a tactics moogle versus an ffxiv moogle. but you want wider appeal? go for ffxiv moogle.

Orrin's dragged along! signing for APE 2