Naunet

Just to clarify, it's pronounced the same way you would pronounce the name "Kyle" in real life. xP IIRC, we had a lengthy discussion about pronunciation in kitty chat some months ago, and we decided that certain short names - especially ones that start with vowel sounds - make more sense with the starting prefix affixed to it and dropping the "koo" for a shorter "ku". I picked option 1 with the poll, based around my understanding of lore. In RP, this is played out in how my character refers to the members of her tribe. When referring to her daughters, she will almost always drop the K tag as a signal of deep affection - unless she's talking to them from a more commanding/disciplining mode. Then it becomes a bit like what happens when your parents use your full name - you know you're in trouble. ;p For most other people, even other fellow family members, she'll usually maintain the K prefix. Certainly she would do so for any other Seeker miqo'te.

I saw over his shoulder what he paid you... My brain is exploding from anticipation over what all that gil may have entailed. *can't wait*

Yea, the unfortunate part is that I had been hoping to be able to just play it as my casual-on-the-side MMO and spend all of my time just building up a house, raising livestock, etc. >_< The work-around isn't exactly appealing in that sense. I wish they'd change their minds about the housing restriction...

"There are always alternatives. You simply chose the quickest way." Strong legs broke into a jog not long after rounding the corner away from Qion'a, and the Keeper's voice followed the man who called himself Thal like a raptor nipping at the heels of a warthog. At least he was honest, the miqo'te thought, as the path curved a few times but did not demonstrate any of its earlier maze-likeness. It wasn't long before fresh air reached his nose, and a short time after that, as he came around another curve in the tunnel, he spotted the bright light of the entrance. He picked up is pace until he was running at full tilt and practically burst from the cave with a wordless declaration of triumph before skidding to a stop several malms out. Dust kicked up from his actions, and it occurred to the masked man then just how far he had traveled with the strange hermit. The marshes of the South Shroud were not far, but already the soil had dried significantly and vegetation had thinned and changed. Even the air smelled different - cleaner. Clearer. Strangely comforting. Pushing mud-caked toes into ground, the man straightened, set his hands on his hips, and craned his neck around back towards the cave. The mouth was a black hole cut cleanly into the side of a mountain the likes of which he had never seen before. He looked up and saw mostly sky, bright, cloudless blue fading to darker hues on the horizon as evening approached. He'd left the Shroud, he thought again, this time with some measure of surprise. Not wanting to linger so near the cave, on the off chance Qion'a or that other brother might follow him out with more attempts to convince him to stay, the masked man began to walk. But he did so aimlessly, setting off in a direction more east than north. His tail swung in broad, slow arcs behind him, strangely content despite the uncomfortable confrontations from only a short while ago. He breathed in again, filled his lungs with the sharp air of the place until his ribs hurt. The rot and headiness of the South Shroud still lingered, but it was faint, and he was certain that if he went further south it would fade completely. Well, that was not something he had ever considered before. The strangeness of these thoughts made him stop. Almost absently one gloved hand reached up to his face, rested over the front of the mask. It sat there for a time while his ears twitched, his tongue tasted the air, and then he pushed the wooden mask up from his face, over his forehead until it dropped to the ground behind him. He stood blinking blue eyes in the brightness of late afternoon for a time, almost overwhelmed by the way his senses opened up without the mask muffling him. He wiped at sweat that had built up on his face, shook his head, and then laughed. Loud and long. A bird in a nearby tree gave a startled squawk and took off. It took some minutes to come back to himself. When he did, he turned back to the mask, red ears tilted in consideration, before snatching it back up, though he only held it in one hand loosely. The other rubbed at the rough hair along his jaw in thought. Well, it couldn't hurt to explore a little bit, right? "Come all the way out here," he mused to no one in particular. "May as well get some fresh air." Shrugging, he began to walk again, swinging his arms as bare feet crunched through sparse undergrowth, ears swiveling to take in the sounds of a new land. He kept his eyes mostly on the sky and, indirectly, the sun. It felt really good to see that. It wouldn't be long before he saw that there was a road to the south, with even more mountains and cliffs behind it. A single man travelled the road, dressed in white and pink garments, followed closely by a chocobo loaded with an assortment of bags and trinkets. Even farther, behind the mountains, the Burning Wall could be seen, towering above like a crumbling castle. The giant crystalline formation shone dimly, its shine still not enough at that time of the day to outplay that of the sun. There were no signs of Qion'a or his brother. Their cave was out of sight already, too. As he walked, he nudged a large pebble along with his feet - knocking it away in front of him, then catching up to it only to knock it away again. He did this idly as he looked around. When he caught sight of the traveler, the road still some distance away, he grinned a bit at the man's garments. The way they billowed in the occasional breeze made him look like some sort of floating tent. He wondered what people traded in outside the Shroud. Gridania was so insular that it was only very rarely that merchants from beyond the forest's walls made it to the markets. Not having any money, he'd of course never bought anything, but he'd sometimes entertain the idea of handing off some foreign trinket to a pretty lady. "Hey, stranger!" The miqo'te, no longer masked, lifted both tanned, dirty arms and waved them broadly. He bounced a bit as he picked up his pace, angling more directly towards the road. The stranger turned his head to look at him without stopping his walk. His face was almost completely wrapped on white fabric. He raised one hand in greeting, kept it on the air for a moment, and then dropped it again without saying a word. The chocobo behind him did not greet anyone, the unpolite jerk. The miqo'te wasn't deterred by the rude chocobo, though he did slow a bit at the passive greeting from the merchant. He kept on though, feeling invigorated by the open sky and clear air in a way he couldn't remember ever feeling before. Perhaps it was just the contrast from escaping that cave, but he was going to enjoy it. "Hey there!" He called again as he got nearer, pausing at the edge of the road and letting the merchant's own pace close the distance between them. The sharp angles of his face broadened into a grin, an expression that wrinkled a long, thin scar running through one eye. The old wound hadn't seemed to disrupt his vision, though. "Nice day huh? Where you coming from?" "Highbridge." the man answered with a voice that was too close to Qion'a to be an unhappy coincidence. Or maybe it was just all the fabric covering his mouth. He continued walking, getting closer and not displaying much interest at Thal. Instead, he turned his head to look around, as if he was expecting him to be a bandit with bandit friends. When he saw no one else, he spoke again. "I suppose it is a nice day, yes." "Highbridge." He tapped his chin. "Not exactly the most creative name. I'm gonna guess it has a bridge. And it's up high. Huh?" He laughed probably a bit obnoxiously at his own joke. Spreading out his arms, the Seeker gestured at the burdened chocobo. "To Gridania, I'm guessing? Hope you're ready for lots of inspections." The natives of the Shroud were rather defensive towards what entered their realm. "I won't go that far into the Shroud." the merchant ventured, still unsure if Thal was a bandit in search of targets or not. The man stood still once he was at what must have been a proper talking distance for Ul'dahn standards. "What about you? You seem to travel a bit too lightly if you come from the Padjal city." "Huh?" The miqo'te had bent to one side, eyeballing the chocobo and its cargo curiously as the other man spoke. After a moment he straightened and rubbed at the back of his neck with a chuckle. "Ah, well, not directly from there. Heh. Just getting some fresh air! I mean, /smell/ that." As though in demonstration, he pulled in a long, loud breath through his nose, stretching to the tips of his toes. The cargo on the bird was difficult to appraise. Most of it was covered in linen, tied up neatly in packages of differing sizes. The only two things that stood out were a bag resting on top of everything filled with pumpkins, and a round metal shield ornamented with golden and silver trims on the edge. The chocobo stomped it's feet against the road, as if it was in some sort of hurry. Considering that it was loaded in goods, he probably was. "Enjoy it while you can." the man said. "The closest you get to Ul'dah, the stench of the sick and the mad because of the war will fill your nostrils." He paused to chuckle shortly. "It will be quite an experience, for sure." "Ul'dah? I think that's kind of far, isn't it? Hadn't really planned on... well." He shrugged, clasped gloved hands behind his back. Blue eyes lingered on the pumpkins. "I wager you are not the kind of man that plans his journeys." "Hah!" The hands behind his back moved up to weave behind his head, and he swayed in a casual gesture. "Don't usually have to. Something, something, blah blah about Oschon, or whatever. At least that's what a friend would tell me. Probably not the case for you merchants though." There was another chuckle. "Oschon shows you the shop, and Nald'thal the prices." he said. "Why do you think I'm a merchant? Am I dressed too expensively? Maybe I'm just a wealthy hermit, bringing supplies to his family." "Uh, I guess. I'm no expert! Guess that means these aren't for sale, huh?" He nodded at the pumpkins. The white merchant turned his head, looking behind him so that the pumpkin bag was in his sight. Then he looked at Thal again, tilting his head slightly. "I am sorry, but I can also wager that you are not carrying much gil with you." "Eheheh," the miqo'te grinned a bit cheekily and, as though acquiescing, took a couple steps back from the chocobo and the maybe-maybe-not merchant. His tail swung slowly, the fluffy tip of it brushing through the dirt. "Guess I'll just leave ya to it then." The merchant chuckled again, dropping his head. The wind blew from the north, bringing with it a strong stench of rotting meat and old clothes. Then it blew again, in another direction, and the smell was gone. "I'm sorry. A little charity would not hurt." the white man said. "You can take one from the bag if you so wish. We'll call it 'Ul'dahn generosity' this one time." he added, opening his arms widely. The man's features twitched at the sudden waft of unpleasant aromas, but he shook his head as it passed. He wondered how far he'd have to go before the Shroud's smells disappeared. "Well that's awfully nice of ya. Ul'dahn generosity, huh? Can't be that bad of a place then." The miqo'te shuffled back towards the chocobo, the bird stirring uncomfortably when he came near. Reaching up, he pulled the edge of the bag down and blindly grabbed for a pumpking. He had to bounce away quickly when the chocobo craned its neck back to snap at him. The man pulled from the chocobo's reins and wrapped one arm around its beak to keep it calm. "Seems like my bird does not like you. I apologize." "No worries. I'm used to it!" The miqo'te waved it off with the hand that still held the mask. In the other he balanced the pumpkin and bounced it a couple times, testing its weight. "Never seen these before. They grow in Ul'dah?" The man only had time to nod once and say one word before the conversation was interrupted by the sound of aether building up close to them. It did not last long, and soon the aether was loudly released, a bolt of cold air travelling quickly towards Thal's legs. The Seeker felt the shift of aether in his bones before the spell fully coalesced, but he didn't understand what he was sensing until the icy chill bore down on him. He let out a squawk of surprise and jumped back mostly on instinct, dropping both the mask and the pumpkin. Cold air snapped about his feet, leaving frost clinging with a sharp pain to his skin, but the bulk of the attack crashed uselessly against the ground, freezing the dirt solid on impact. The man stumbled, legs stunned by the cold, and brought his arms up into a defensive posture. "The hell--?" His ears twitched as he sought out the source of the spell. Qion'li's blue robes stood out against the brown cliffs behind Thal like a puddle of very bright water. His torso was bent to a side, his arm extended behind him as he prepared his next spell. He was not alone. Two men covered from head to toe with what looked like very heavy armor, no skin or features showing, were with him. Yet despite the weight, they moved breezly, if somewhat erraticaly, towards Thal. The merchant just stood there, holding his chocobo in place, looking surprised at the scene playing in front of him. Looking left to right, the miqo'te's ears twitched, picking up the sounds of the approaching men. He spun around and then backpedalled at the sight before visibly puffing up like an agitated animal. He scrambled, putting the chocobo between himself and the attackers, and then dropped into a defensive crouch. His eyes caught on Qion'li's figure for a split second before his attention was forced back to the two men as they neared at a pace faster than what would seem natural. The men would have continued and smashed themselves against the chocobo if it weren't for the merchant who urged the beast to move out of the way with a swift whistle. The beast wasn't quick enough, though, and let out a loud complain as one of them did actually smash himself against it, falling on top of it while the bird was knocked on its side. The other man lunged at Thal with both arms extended at him. The miqo'te reacted without thinking, throwing his own arms out to catch the two coming towards him, broadening his stance and loosening his joints to absorb the impact. He grunted as the man collided with him, stumbled a few steps back, but gripped the attacker's hands solidly in his own. With that leverage, he tried to turn and "throw" the man off, taking advantage of the stranger's already forward momentum. The man was thrown off to a side successfully, his head smashing against the ground, jerking backwards at an odd angle. He was extremely light, despite his bulky armor. The blue robed man, off in the distance, released another spell with one strong swing of his arm. Blue light covered him briefly before the aether was shot out towards Thal again, chilling the air on its way. Turning from the creature he had tossed away - it could not actually be a man, judging by how it moved and felt, the miqo'te decided - he directed his attention to the second black attacker who struggled to free himself from the flailing chocobo. It was this minor miscalculation of risk that cost him, however, for when he felt the rippling of aether across his skin, he had only the time to take a step back before the spell hit. Ice burst around one leg, the cold a shock enough that he didn't immediately notice any associated pain, and froze one foot to the ground. The other limb tried to move back away from the attack, but it just resulted in an awkward stumble that took the miqo'te nowhere. Wide eyes glared up at the blue robed figure, then over to the merchant who still stood passively off to one side. "You gonna help or what?" He called out. "Surely ya know how to defend yourself!" As he spoke, his hands grabbed at the ice. The aether charging the spell shivered at his touch. The merchant had taken a book with brass covers from withing his clothes. It laid open against his left hand, with the other open a few ilms above its pages. "Yes. I suggest you do not move, though." he said very calmly. Qion'li smirked and let loose yet another chilly spell at the immobilized Thal. Practically hissing at the merchant in annoyance, the man named Thal forced his attention back to his frozen leg. He could feel the aether running through the ice. If he just... His fingertips chilled very suddenly, and he jerked his hands away as what felt like ice shot through the muscles of his arms. The spell holding his leg in place cracked, though, and then shattered, and he stumbled back-- --in time to take the new spell solidly in the chest. As ice blossomed against his skin, the force of it knocked the Seeker on his back, and the chill spread to pin him to the ground. Letting out a sharp curse, he kicked his legs a moment and then brought his hands, still stinging from moments before, to his chest. The merchant finally did something: a surge of aether burst out from its book, spreading it everywhere around them in purple light. After a moment, the excess aether collapses upon Thal's arms and legs, forming a circle of light around them, pinning him down with great force. The 'man' that had crashed against the cargo bird finally stood up and stayed there, gazing into the horizon as if he had forgotten what was going on. It shook its head and then its whole body, in tandeem with the other one and with a movement of hands from the blue robed Miqo'te. Then he looked at Thal, still looking confused. The miqo’te grunted, gritting his teeth as his limbs slammed down against the dirt. Straining his neck, he lifted his head up, pulling his shoulders off the ground as much as he could manage to try and get a look at the attackers. "This what I get for trying to take one of your pumpkins?" He called out to the white-robed man. "I should remind ya you offered it to me!" The vibrations of the aether around him hummed deafeningly in his ears and buzzed with a strange heat against his skin. Unable to physically touch the spells, he tried a last ditch effort to reach with his whole body, feeling the aether as though it were a part of him. The binds flickered, though didn't immediately release. "Bind his damn limbs, you useless corpses!" Qion'li shouted. The two not-really heavily armored men quickly answered to the order and moved towards Thal. Without a warning, they threw themselves on top of him, taking a firm hold of his limbs. The merchant huffed, extending his arms away from himself in exasperation at Qion'li. "Care to explain me what under the Sultana's skirt is going on?" he asked. "Later!" was the answer. "The king, that is myself, demands this creature to be put under the care of my kingdom. We'll bring him there, bind him properly in a nice little room all for itself and only then I will explain." "Fine. Whatever. But you owe me a chocobo." "What--you again? I thought I told ya--" The miqo'te named Thal went limp for a few seconds as the two, dark man-creatures fell upon him, their light but unnaturally strong hand joining the aether bonds about his limbs. Then he sucked in a breath, felt the spell about his legs flicker away as the aether that composed it ran like fire through his calves, and bent his knees to kick upward. He managed to clilp one of the assailants in the hip. The man twisted to the side at the force of the impact, and let out sickly, dim whimper at it. It answered back by curling his hand into a fist and hitting Thal with it on the stomach. Despite him wearing a gauntlet, the attack felt as if it had been done with a naked hand. The other one struggled to keep the miqo'te from moving. Qion'li crossed his arms and smiled a few feet away. "Now, my dear god of the dead..." he started, which brought upon him the confused gaze of the merchant. "You can keep kicking and fighting or you can come peacefully...oh, who am I kidding?" he finished with a laugh. "You had your chance to be a guest." He raised his staff above him, charging it with aether. The miqo'te's spine curled at the blow to his stomach, but the urgency of the moment gave him more than enough adrenaline to ignore the resounding ache. He kicked out again, this time managing a much more direct hit thanks to the opening the shadowed man's attack had given him. Muscles honed from years of traveling the Shroud drove his feet right into the attacker's pelvis with enough strength to knock it back. The moment he felt its hands fall away from his right arm, he was twisting to the opposite side, pushing at the other one. That one looked at Thal. Without a direct order from Qion'li, he did not know what to do. No order ever came, but Qion'li's new spell hit them both, covering them in a second of white light. The armored man's limbs loosened. His whole body did. He fell on his back like a bag of pumpkins and stayed there. The other one was also hit by the spell as he tried to stood up. He never did, instead staying down as if dead. The miqo'te who called himself Thal had enough time to noticed his limbs were suddenly free before the white light hit him as well. The effect was nearly instantaneous, the energy fleeing from his body, followed only a split second later by his consciousness. The man fell back to the ground, limp and silent and surrounded by the hum of aether.

Bookmarked. As ArcheAge is something I'm interested in (well, less so than I used to be, tbh, ever since learning that housing is for subscribers only... *sigh*), this will be a useful resource. Thanks for putting it together and dropping by with a note!

K'ile Tia had left a palpable silence in his wake when he left the elders' tent. It weighed down their fragile bones, dragged on their flesh like weights to draw out and deepen the cracked folds of wrinkled skin. With the tia gone, K'jhanhi seemed to fold over himself, spine buckling until he looked like a shadow creature crouched in the sand, his wiry limbs circled about him. Yellow eyes watched forward, towards the thin lines of light where the skin of the tent broke. "This could bring hope to our family," K'deiki's weary voice floated from another shadow. "Remind them of the ways of things, that our path is not lost." "Or it could do nothing but waste our precious resources and energy." The former nunh's eyes became nearly lost in his frown. More silence followed. The debate was over with, for now. *** The three remaining elders of the Sagolii tribe had just begun the preparations for their evening rites when a soft voice intruded upon their lair. Three pairs of eyes turned towards the sliver of light at the entrance, bodies leaning in suspended action before all three returned to their work. It was K'deiki who spoke, after a time, she being closest to the doorway. "Come in, dear," she almost smiled at the young K'mih's voice as her gnarled hands worked drawing symbols in the sand. "And watch your step."

Pausing for a moment to glare at Antimony's hand on his arm, the crag-faced Nunh growled, "I have no need for your forgiveness!" He stepped towards Antimony and thrust his arm out at the woman, hitting her in the face with the backside of his knuckles. "Nor do I have any patience for your so-called investigation! A farce to throw suspicion off yourself at worst, but even at best it is mere annoyance concocted as an offering to the conniving Tia that beds you." Antimony staggered at the blow, her head snapping to the side from the force of it. Silence filled the space between them for several seconds as the hand that had once gripped D'themia's arm moved to cradle her face where a harsh, red mark was rapidly forming beneath glasses set askew. Her tail stuck out in a rigid line behind her and quivered almost imperceptibly. Then wide eyes glared back at the nunh and a moment later her opposite hand swung out. The solid slap of her palm on his cheek broke the silence, followed by an outraged, "You do not treat others in such a manner, young man. Nor do you insinuate such--such untrue things!" The huntresses shifted and muttered when Antimony struck D'themia, a thing they had not done when their Nunh had hit the woman moments before. There was the click of armor and shifting glances as the dark man glared at Antimony, seeming to only belatedly notice that she'd hit him. Like mishandled clay, his face cracked into a smirk, and he exhaled a low chuckle. Then he stepped forward and struck Antimony hard in the gut, this time to knock her away. "If you think I require so much as a pretense of patience, or to entertain any syllable from you I do not wish to, then you are failing incredibly at understanding your situation! You may evaluate our finances if it entertains you, for there is nothing to find, but it will not save you when the Sultansworn discern your motive in this meddling. And believe me, it is not difficult to understand." Any words that may have been on the tip of her tongue fled Antimony, along with her breath, as D'themia's hand collided with her abdomen. She fell back with a wheezing grunt, landing hard on her tail, and there was a thin clatter of her glasses skittering across the floor. She blinked rapidly, arms moving instinctively around her waist in both a defensive gesture and a reaction to the flaring ache there. Her tail felt like it was on fire, so she rolled to one side to ease the pressure off it. She didn't immediately respond, shocked into silence by D'themia's violence. "Hey now," Lamandu said, standing up from his seat, though the difference seen between the two was not great, "No need for any of that. You are both rather distraught over obviously personal matters. I'm not certain as though you were entirely truthful to me about why you needed to be here so badly, Miss Antimony. Though I think I am entirely clear now as to the reason." He felt bad for the poor woman, truely, but this was nothing that he wished to be involved in, especially now. "I have stated my position with sufficient clarity. The matter may be closed for now." The Nunh stepped back and spun away, petting his knuckles as though they had been wounded. Or perhaps trying to wipe off some invisible dirt. "Lamandu, I suggest you urge Antimony to go about her investigation and speak of her once-daughter no more." Unused to the effects of such physical attacks, it took a moment for Antimony to recover enough to struggle up, green eyes wide. "Captain, I assure you, it is not what it--" she began at Lamandu, but stopped short and twisted her neck up towards D'themia, then winced her way to her feet, "I will not just abandon matters concerning my daughter, and you have no right to demand such of me." "You can either let it go now and see about the business you brought me here to see, or you can continue discussing your family matters with D'themia alone. There are other things I have to do with my time," Lamandu rather hoped she would choose the latter, he was not keen to see Learner again when the man returned, though he was sure that the likelihood would be large that he would get chased down afterwards. "I think you should consider," D'themia said, standing still where he was with his tail shivering behind him. "That this is the only time I will ever invite you to make this inspection. The opportunity will never present itself again." Antimony glared defiantly at D'themia's back, her tail curled gingerly against throbbing at the base of the limb where she'd landed on it. This lasted for several seconds before her ears drooped suddenly and she shifted her gaze to one side. "We will continue with the investigation as intended," she said and then added in a low mutter, "But I will not abandon the issue of my daughter." D'themia thrust a hand at one of the huntresses. "You!" The woman perked up in mild surprise, but then her Nunh amended his instructions, turning and sweeping his hand through the room. "All of you. Escort the Captain and the Witch to the records room. Make they see everything they want to see, and alter nothing." The first huntresses he'd motioned to nodded and moved in silence, stepping away from the wall with the click of her spear against her armored calves. As she angled out of the room, the other huntresses separated from the wall, watching Antimony and Lamandu, waiting for them. Nodding towards the Dodo nunh, "Thank you, D'themia." Lamandu started immediately to the door, stopping when he reached the guidewoman. "Are you coming Antimony?" Best get this done soon, before Learner returned with more overzealous accusations. Antimony turned reluctantly, wincing at the lingering ache in her gut and the way each step made her tail throb. She paused a moment to retrieve her bag and, after some searching, her glasses, and then made to follow Lamandu and the huntresses out the door. *** The huntresses did as they were told, leaving the room the Nunh occupied in stoic silence. But once they were out of D'themia's sight, their composure slackened, and the three who walked in the rear began to mutter among themselves. None of their words were shared with those they escorted, though they spoke with an audible mix of confusion and frustration. The foremost huntress lead them dutifully down the hall and through a locked door into a musty interior room that did not bear any of the eccentricity of the rest of the Commune. The walls were plain and windowless, the oil lamps burning yellow with an unpleasant odor, and the room filled with rows upon rows of cabinets, drawers clearly labeled by date and subject. From here, the huntresses helped Antimony find what she needed to see, just as they had been instructed to. And they watched, just as they had been instructed to. They were neither friendly nor hostile, though there was obvious shortness with any requests. Their eyes perused Antimony's appearance and mannerisms, and they whispered to one another in moments of stillness. D'themia, in the meeting room alone, waited for what he felt was far too long a time. He paced and muttered to himself, glared out the window, glowered at the door. He considered the hookah but didn't partake. He considered sitting down but choose to stay in motion. His patience drained with his footsteps, though, and then he would wait no longer. He made his own way down the hall, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness that on any other day would have been full of Miqo'te. That Antimony and Lamandu would try to convince him that it was mere coincidence that they would come investigating on this day out of all of them, was laughably ill-advised. He could only be grateful that the Sultansworn would be present to see their blatant gambit. The Nunh pushed into the records room with a huff, the door slamming open and the echoing sound of it silencing the huntresses. They returned to their straight-backed, stoic postures as though struck with thunder. D'themia stomped forward, "You've had enough time! I am not obligated to entertain your presence beyond reason!" Antimony worked largely in silence amongst the filing cabinets, drifting between an old desk and the rows of stashed paperwork as necessary. She would occasionally come to Lamandu with a question regarding the Blades, but otherwise largely left the lalafell captain to himself; his primary purpose had been to help gain her access to these records and that had been served. She did her best not to think of the bruise she could feel forming along her cheekbone, or the one surely blossoming hidden beneath her robes; nor did she let herself dwell on the matter of her daughter. At least not too much. Despite these distractions, it didn't take long to recognize that what she'd tracked down from the Blades' end was point for point replicated on the Dodos' side - and then some. With the meticulous method that had earned her such high regard from her last employer, and won her work with the CRA, Antimony pulled and notated each indication of money transfer - from whom, to whom, how much, what it had been earmarked for if anything, which accounts were involved, and more - and built up a rather fortified and undeniable picture of financially subversive Dodo activity towards the Brass Blades of Pearl Lane. When the Dodo nunh burst into the room, Antimony was working through her final triple checks of calculations. She frowned at the black marked paper beneath her fingers, took a steadying breath, and spoke without looking up from her work and with as firm a tone as possible, "You are obligated to conform to the letter of the law, which in this case includes my and the Captain's presence in this room." While paperwork was a day-to-day thing that Lamandu had to deal with in the Pearl Lane offices, it had never been among his favorite of activities. It seemed to do a great deal to calm and steady the older woman who was neatly shuffling through papers, pulling and refiling the information that she was looking for. He wished she'd hurry up, but when D'themia returned demanding that they cease then, he had to side with Antimony. He was already buried in this mess, and so had to see it through, especially since in exchange for the use of his credentials she was skirting around the fault that lay within his own office. Or at least thats what she had better be doing. Not only that, but now that the Sultansworn were throwing themselves into the middle of things with loose, circumstantial accusations, their having legitimate business was a necessity. So he stepped in the path of the Nunh, stating firmly, "The warrant I have allows us entry here, unless you want to be charged with the interference of an official investigation? You had said, that we could see everything that we wanted to see."

The discussion with his brother was quick and painless, a fact that mildly surprised Qion'a. No yelling, no questioning about tributes and no demands. It had been strangely pleasing. Though that was not entirely true: he was ordered by 'his majesty' to fetch the masked man he had brought to the 'kingdom' by 'whatever means'. Violence was not Qion'a's specialty, no matter how many squirrels he had vanquished and eaten. But it was true that they couldn't let him walk away, no matter how very alive he seemed to be. The red robed miqo'te walked across the tunnels he and his special friend had come from, with his dried wand as the only light source. He stopped at every turn, tracing a faint magical glyph in the air to measure the state of the aetherial fields. He then walked in the direction where the glyph had the most problems keeping its shape, following the disturbances. It was only a matter of time before he found the fugitive. But maybe there was an even easier and quicker way. "Hey!" he shouted loudly. "Thal! Are you there? I know you are! Answer me so we can chat for a bit!" The first thing the miqo'te who called himself Thal had done was exactly as he had said: he tried to catch a whiff of fresh air to follow it out of the twisting mining tunnels. It didn't take very long, however, before he realized that the pervasive organic stench of the swamp and the earth around and above him was going to make such a thing extremely difficult. There was no such thing as fresh air in this part of the Shroud. He tried to recall the turns they'd taken in, but that too resulted in nothing but frustration. When he came up short at a dead end for the fifth time - and he suspected it might even be the same dead end - the miqo'te finally paused for a moment. Scratching at his scruffy chin, he frowned through the holes in his mask at the carved out walls of the tunnels that refused to let him go. Tail swishing in annoyance, he turned one way, then the other, and then let out a puff of air before bouncing on mud-caked toes and turning to go back the way he came. It was then that one ear twitched, catching the echoes of a voice that carried faintly through the tunnels. Wising up to things, however, the man remained silent, though his senses went back on alert. He tried to pick out the direction the voice had come from so as to move in the opposite. "I don't know why you decided to run. It's not like we are going to dissect you!" Qion'a walked a few more steps and raised one finger to draw another glyph. The magic brought with it more light than what his wand was creating. It banished after a second, leaving behind a low hum that lasted much more than its light. It was followed by the approaching sound of his footsteps. The sought for man grimaced behind his mask, ears flipping one way and then the other before focusing in on the footsteps. They came from the direction he'd arrived, which meant... Puffing up his tail, the miqo'te squared himself off against the approaching sounds, and then called out in a light tone, "Your invitation turned into more of a demand. So you can understand my hesitation!" "Yes, well...I apologize. Honesty became a very rare resource at the wake of the Calamity, I'm afraid." There was some glee in Qion'a's voice. His steps did not increase in frequency, but they did grow closer and closer. "We have a lot of folks like you in this place, you know." he continued, not waiting for any reply. "Not exactly like you, of course! Most of them lost their minds and never recovered. But, in any case, it would help my brother's reign to understand how you were made." "Not comforting!" He called back to the shadows in the tunnel, tail twitching with each echoed footstep. His toes curled into the dirt as he broadened his stance somewhat. "I'm appealing to your mercy, not to your comfort. Though I can try that!" His voice was clearer, closer. The dim blue light of Qion'as wand crawled slowly over the stone floor. He was just a turn away. "Though it's hard to bargain with a man that has everything he wants. What could we give you? Would you like a couch, maybe?" "Eeh, what's a guy to do with a couch?" He rolled his shoulders, loosening muscle and joint, and his gaze moved to stare fixedly at the steadily increasing glow. "I think I'd rather ya just show me the door." "Haha! Yes. I mean, no." Qion'a's red robed self stood out in the center of the corridor, holding his wand above his head and to a side. He cast a long shadow against the wall, and there was nothing under his hood that could be seen. Only darkness. He raised the other arm with the hand open. "We will let you go once there's nothing left to learn from you. If we could find whomever raised you, that would be even better! We could ask him directly, you see. But I imagine you don't know him at all." The cornered miqo'te bent his arms loosely at his sides, and the stoic, painted face of the mask stared unblinkingly at Qion'a's robed form. "Not exactly something I have interest in, sorry." He let out a huff. "Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way." *** Above ground, where the hot sun of the desert reflected brightly and uninterrupted off the sound, there was suddenly a dark shadow. It was cast by a tall, thin form. The Duskwight did not step into Thanalan; he did not appear. He was simply there, as though he had always been there, stationary. The smell of Ul'dah still clung to his body, though his form was wrapped in palpable heat. The air around him shimmered for a moment, as A long shadow was on the sand. It had not been there a moment before. Yet it had not been cast, nor had it appeared, it was simply present as though it had always been there and the world was only just now noticing it. The tall, thin, gray man whose feet connected to the end of the shadow, stoo stationary. The air around him shifted, waving visibly, like he was hotter than his surroundings. This lasted an instant, and then the breeze of Thanalan pulled the clinging aether from his body. Eddies of the scents of Ul'dah lingering in the folds of his clothes, his dark, greasy hair shifted in the wind, the tattered ends of rags on his face and arms swaying. His silver eyes snapped up, dilated. He looked at the knife in his hand. A single drop of blood fell from the dip of the blade into the sand. Otherwise, the knife was clean. Dark lips frowned, "Ah. I suppose that cut was not quite my best work. Still..." The tattoos on his face darkened from gray to black. His face turned towads the sand, his shoulders turned towards the desert, his spine and stance pivoted towards the mountain. The Duskwight hummed. "What is this?" He squinnted, leaned forward a modicum to look and listen into the cave. He smiled. "Ah, Oschon, I always count the days until you send me back underground." Flciking the knife fast and hard between his spry figertips, tossing away the last two drops of blood on the very thing knife, he slipped the weapon back into the invisible depths of his pockets. A flash of thin light beside him, like the sun catching hair or spiders web, was the only clue to the garrote that disappeared as well. Flexing his fingers, the elderly Duskwight decided that he felt very much like this was the right place for him to be. He was dextrous today. His knees did not ache quite so much, and his body felt more light than weak. All of this in mind, the old man started forward, smiling into the relative shadows of the cave. It did not seem so very dark to him. It did not smell at all terrible. It felt comfortable to him. The darkness and the earth welcomed him like cool, clear water welcomes a fish. *** Deeper in the caves, the red robe shrugged at the masked man and waved it's wand, a trail of blue light forming where it had just been. "I am not fond of violence!" he said. "You won't find the exit. I'll just wait until you tire yourself up." He took a step to a side, letting his back against the wall and staying there. "Hah! Too bad for you, I won't tire. But, uh, all the wandering is getting a little boring," the tone implied a cheeky grin as the man bounced on the balls of his feet. There was a moment where he judged the distance between himself and Qion'a, noticed the other's relaxed posture against he wall, and then his own body moved with an instinct he hadn't known he had but followed nonetheless. He sprung forward, one hand outstretched, the other arm bent with his forearm square in front of him, intending to grab the hooded miqo'te as well as pin him against the wall. There was no movement from Qion'a in response to this action. He was easily grabbed and thrown off balance, his back hitting against the wall. He did not drop his wand, though, which still shone in his hand. Red hair shifted as the miqo'te leaned forward until the mask was inches from Qion'a's face, close enough that his eyes were visible in the shadows. There was a strange mirth in them. "You're gonna show me the way out," he said. "I'm not a fan of violence either, but I'm even less of a fan of being 'studied', so... your choice here." The other smiled. "An interesting proposition! I commend you on your initiative. I'd like to see how far you are willing to go." The mask remained impassive as the miqo'te pressed his forearm to the base of Qion'a's neck. His other hand, which had grabbed one of the Keeper's arms just above the elbow, twisted so that the limb was contorted against the wall. The man who called himself Thal didn't think about how he knew to execute such actions; they came natural in the need of the moment. The winding turns were almost familiar to the Duskwight, though the stone here was different than the earth he'd grown up around. His old fingers ran along the wall as he walked, as he took the rights and the lefts with cool amusement. He imagined that somewhere below Eorzea, there was a city that looked like this, where Duskwight still dwelled in great number. He imagined this, but he did not believe it. He believed in empty tunnels that stank of rot. He paused, moved his fingers in a small circle on the wall. Lingering warmth, like a faded sunbeam, met his fingertips. It was so subtle, but present. He hummed, looked down the few tunnels that branched from here, listened. Patting the wall, he walked on. "If you push too hard on my neck, it may cause an speech impediment!" Qion'a said with a trembling voice, pausing to struggle for air every few words. "Did you learn these things while picking apples?" "Nah, it's those alligator pears. Have to watch out for the teeth," still joking, even as he kept the weight up. He gave Qion'a's arm an extra twist, just to bring home the point, before repeating, "Gonna take me out now?" The man groaned. "You make a strong case. If you would kindly release my arm I will guide you to the exit." He waited a few seconds longer before, very suddenly, easing up and stepping back. The fur on his tail remained puffed out in a display of aggression, and the muscles in his limbs kept their taught readiness, but he nodded his head down the tunnel with a light bob, red hair bouncing. "Alrighty then, off we go." Qion'a had somehow managed to keep a firm grip on his wand. He raised it and made it glow stronger. "You don't mind the light, don't you?" he asked, pointing one fing at the branch. Flicking his gaze between the branch and the hooded Keeper, the miqo'te shrugged and then gestured a bit impatiently, "Whatever makes it easier. Let's go now! I have a mighty need to see the sky again." Qion'a nodded. "I guess I'll lead, then." And then he turned away to walk into the tunnels. The masked miqo'te watched Qion'a carefully for a couple seconds before following, red tail flicking with each step. "That's the spirit," he encouraged. "I bet you secretly want to get out of here, too, anyway. No one in their right mind would want to live in this place." His answer was a chuckle, and then silence. Knowing where Qion'a was leading him was anyone's guess, as the tunnels didn't seem to have any significant difference from each other. The corridor they were looked the same as the previous one, and it would look the same as the next one. There were no sign of fresh air or of the sky. Only Qion'a's light and his long shadow cast behind him. The Keeper finally spoke after they had given a few turns on their way out. "Do you ever wonder if you have a family somewhere?" There was a lengthy silence, broken only by the soft padding of feet down the tunnels, and then in a breezy tone, "If I do, it's probably healthiest for them to keep thinking I'm dead." Qion'a turned around. "For them or for you?" he asked, walking backwards. "What'd I say?" A beat. "Hey, you can't lead me out if you aren't looking where you're going." "I can!" Qion'a smirked. But he did turn away from the man to look at his own feet after saying so. "I do not think you understand how people work. When they see someone alive who should be dead, their reaction isn't to yell at them because they should be dead." He tilted his head and, for the first time since forever, his ears raised up enough to create two small pointy ends under his hood. "Being alive proves that you never died in the first place. That's what they'd think." The masked miqo'te shrugged, tail fidgeting uncomfortably. "It's been five years. I'm sure they've moved on." He then added quickly, to steer the conversation, "How much farther? Don't make me pull out my alligator pear moves again." "That seems pretty selfish." Qion'a muttered, staring at a wall. He placed one hand on it as he continued walking forward. "You could actually just run ahead yourself. First turn to the left and then straight ahead, if you are in such a hurry." He breathed in deep behind the mask, picking up his pace to move up alongside Qion'a, and tried to catch any smells of the outdoors on the air. As always, scents returned to him muddied and indistinguishable, and he huffed in annoyance before stepping past the other miqo'te. "The opposite of selfish," there was an unusual bite in his voice before he smoothed it back out, swinging his arms to either side of his body, "Sweet sky. If you're lying, I won't stop at just twisting your arm." "Yes, your...ah...willingness to use violence has been noted." Qion'a said, stopping as the other one moved beyond him. "I guess it was a pleasure meeting you!" he added. The masked miqo'te turned to face Qion'a and rounded the left corner backwards. One gloved hand lifted to wag disapprovingly at the Keeper. "Ya didn't exactly give me much choice." Then he was out of sight. "There are always alternative. You simply chose the quickest way." he answered loudly to the walls. Silence followed, and the light soon retreated with him away from the corridor.

The glamour prism gifted by the ever-strange Qion'a remained tucked away in the nameless miqo'te's pocket for two days. He could feel the low hum of the aether it contained vibrating with every step he took in his wanderings through the Shroud, felt it pressing warmly against his thigh when he sprawled back lazily across a log or a rock or in a pile of leaves. There had been no woman to receive it as a gift, as Megiddo had likely suspected, though the miqo'te had briefly considered just handing it off to the first pretty lady he saw to make a point, but the promise of its aether was too much for him to just let go. He'd found a small stream a few hours ago, whose meandering path he had been idly following when he began to notice the press of his bones against the muscles in his feet, the pull of tendon in his ankles. He could feel his own blood dragging slowly up his limbs, and when his toes curled into muddy ground, the sensation of his joints overrode the gritty dampness of soil. A short huff of annoyed breath caught against the inside of his mask, warming the narrow space between his skin and the wood, and he dropped down first into a crouch and then just onto his butt in the mud, sticking his feet in the shallow, cold stream water. Almost on instinct he reached out with a gloved hand towards a patch of springy moss, then pulled it away with a sheepish chuckle. His blank face turned towards the canopy and the small slivers of light that pierced the leaves and cast everything in a strange, shadowed, green hue. "No more trails, right, Old Man. Heh, you don't even have to be here and I can feel your judging." He paused, sat up a littler straighter, and twisted to look around him. The movement made him keenly aware of the shifting of each individual vertebrae and, most disturbingly, how his organs pressed against the confines of his skin. "... Not like you'd give me any warning if you are out there!" He declared to the forest around him before settling back into a more relaxed position in the mud. The glamour prism thrummed its constant aetherial hum against his thigh, and with an idle hum, the man pulled it from the pocket he'd stashed it in, holding it up over his face. The green-tinted light of the forest reflected strangely off the magical prism. He considered it for a time, considered Megiddo's warning about the aether it could contain, and then just shrugged. "A glamour prism's a glamour prism, and aether is aether," he said to the forest and let out a low laugh as he felt the energy reaching out towards his fingers. "And isn't this better than just taking it from some poor old plants.." While the aether inside the prism was actually just aether, it had another purpose. There was a red robed figure moving among the canopy, hunched forward, two small wings flapping silently and transporting it across the Shroud. It was as tall as half an arm and its head was out of proportion, about a third of its total size. It had arms, but the tunic was sleeveless. It also had legs, of which only the tip of two tiny claws hung lazily from under the cloth. The tiny creature was drawn towards Thal's crystal like a moth to a flame. A very special moth who wished for a very specific flame. It perched itself over a branch, its claws cracking the wood as it moved in position with excitement. It looked down to the Miqo'te, and the humming crystallized aether in his hand. The masked man watched the dim glow of the prism flicker in time to the slow pulsing of aether that left it and was drawn inexorably through the thick fabric of his gloves. The energy that sunk into his fingers was a palpable presence that dispersed through veins and bone and muscle, settling into his flesh in a way that felt natural. He grinned behind the mask at the feeling. "Yup. Just like the real thing!" Something cracked behind him, and his red ears flicked back towards it, curious. Idle noises of creatures passing weren't exactly a strange thing to hear in the Shroud, though, so it was with a lazy gesture, waving the prism above him in slow, playful arcs, that he leaned back and tilted his head back to peer at the forest behind him upside down. A fiendish giggle resonated across the trees, coming from the robed creature. It was jumping repeatedly in its branch. It suddenly stopped all sound, leaving its branch to fly above the masked man thrice in a circle before plummeting down towards him. It rose quickly before actually crashing with him, turned completely and resumed its dash, disappearing between the same trees it had come from. It took a few seconds to process what he was actually looking at, but when the strange, round creature took off above him, every single hair on his body bristled outward. The prism dropped to the ground as a startled but instinctively defensive shout burst from his chest, and he crabwalked back in the mud several fulms before turning and leaping to his feet. By then the creature had fled off between the trees, quickly lost in the dense forest. The miqo'te stood, knees bent and ready to spring, arms akimbo, tail fluffed out to several times its usual size and lashing furiously behind him. Was that an elemental? But they weren't supposed to be able to sense him, not with the mask-- One hand moved to his face, straightening the wooden mask that covered his features, but his blue eyes didn't stop shifting around him. He bared his teeth behind it and let out a low growl, tail sticking out as centuries old instincts kicked in. Make yourself bigger. Make yourself intimidating. Backing down presents you as prey. He was not prey. The creature did not come back. Its giggling echoed farther and farther away, sporadically, until it just stopped. It was either too far away to be heard anymore, or maybe something ate it. However, a few moments after that happened, the sounds of steps over the grass and moving branches could be heard, getting closer to Thal. It was accompanied by the faint noise of flapping wings. The miqo'te's head swung left and right, blue eyes flashing in the dark holes of his mask. His ears stood fully upright and swiveled, listening to the fading sounds of the creature's retreat but also listening to the rest of the forest. There could easily be more where that one came from. To his right. He spun, teeth bared again, and lifted his arms threateningly. "Fear not!" said a voice from the woods. The pitch was impossible to not recognize. It was Qion'a, who emerged from behind a tree like a bear who just found a very nice beehive to eat. The tiny creature was following him, only its wings and the grey tips of the feet hinting at its nature. "Did you have a good meal?" The fur along the miqo'te's ears bristled at the sight of the creature following Qion'a, but just the sight of the Keeper alone was enough to relax his stance significantly. Until he caught on to the other man's words. "Uuuhhh what? I've just been relaxing here! Nice... stream and all. Heh." One ear twitched, the impassive face of the mask hiding how his eyes flicked towards the small, winged monster. He forced a laugh, dropping his arms somewhat. "Guess the Shroud is just full of surprises, eh? What's... that?" "Mm? Oh, that's just Imp. He is, as the name indicates, an imp! What you might not know about him, though, is that he is very young and has long and pointy teeth." Qion'a explained waving a hand that urged the imp to fly up and away from them. "But you!" he moved his hand, one finger pointing at Thal. He kept walking towards him. "You are something special! You need not to hide yourself from me, for Menphina grants me the greatest mercy. We can discuss your eating habits and I will not judge you!" The masked miqo'te's ears shifted so that one pointed sideways, the other straight up. He swung his arms at his sides, like pendulums. "That's a... funny thing to talk about, don'tcha think? I mean, unless you're gonna invite someone over for dinner." He laughed at his own words. "Funny thing: I was!" the other man declared. "My brother has a kingdom. Did I tell you about him? I think I did!" His feet stopped next to a tree, facing it. He raised a pouch with one hand and, with the other, he slowly plucked pieces of bark out of it. "It is a great kingdom." the sound of his voice continued "You would feel right at home! All of his citizens have the same eating habits as you, and my brother lives to provide them with food and shelter." Red hair shifted as the masked miqo'te tilted his head to one side. Then he just shrugged. "Nope, haven't heard of it." "It's a great kingdom!" he repeated. A great chunk of the trunk he was facing was now naked, most of its bark missing and thrown into the small leather bag. "Not as clean as some other places, of course, and the views are nothing to brag about. But it has a purpose! And you, my friend, would fit right in!" The miqo'te straightened, scratching at his chin beneath his mask and then at the back of his neck. His toes shifted in the mud when he spoke with a nod towards the tree, "Y'know, if ya aren't careful, you're gonna have the Elementals after ya. Or at the least, the Wailers." Qion'a shaked his head and chuckeld. "The Shroud operates on the concept of balance. You only take if you can give back. And I'm constantly giving back something: love!" The explanation was followed by leaving the tree alone and facing the masked man. He took a few steps towards him as if he intended to go past him. "Love is the most important property, and the Elementals know it. I can take anything, for when I takeit is only to give it!" He did not go past him. Instead he finished his short stroll at arm's length. "What do you give back to the Shroud after each meal? I bet nothing, as otherwise you would not need a mask. You should consider coming to my brother's kingdom!" Taking a step back, the masked miqo'te brought up both gloved hands in front of him. "Look, bud, I think you're confused. I mean, not that I blame ya, what with living as a hermit and all. I'd probably get confused every now and then too... Er, I probably do!" He shook his head, hair swinging, ears swiveling. "The aether from the crystal I gave you was modified to resonate with Imp's own aether. That's why he went psychotic and giggled despite my gentle suggestions to not make any noise. There is no use in denying it." Qion'a replied very casually. Silence hung between them for several seconds, during which the masked man did not lower his hands, did not move even a hair on his tail. Then, all of a sudden, he swung his arms down and behind him to clasp the back of his head and let loose a belly-shaking laugh, "Aahahaha, alright, alright, ya got me! I'm just playing around. It's not like the Wailers or any of the other people who live here do any different, yea? Hahaha..." He rubbed behind his ears and his tail swung, suddenly reanimated. Then as the laughter died down, he shook his head broadly. "You've got some, uh, strange friends, pal. I think I'll pass." "Brothers." Qion'a corrected. "And they are not strange! Well, yes, they are. But not in a bad way. And my kingly brother has everything you could need to subsist. No masks or hidding from the Elementals, or the Wailers, needed." He smiled briefly. "And I wager we could get your elezen friend a right for an embassy, if he wishes to visit you." "What's that? Visit?" The man's ears twitched and he looked around, then to the canopy. Then he just sighed. "Look friend, I'm happy where I am. So, sorry, you're an awesome guy and I thank you for the gift, and I'll totally visit you in your... uh, shack if ya want, but I'm not all that interested in some kingdom I've never heard of. Took long enough to get settled in here!" Qion'a tilted his head forward, golden eyes staring at the mask. One of his arms crossed his chest, and his free hand rubbed his chin. "You are not settled. You have no home, no work, and your only friend is someone who likes to hide between the trees." "Bah, not all homes are stuck in the ground. And... I bring fruits and stuff to Gridania! That counts. I think? Heh." He shook his head. "Wouldn't feel right leavin' this place. Though, uh, I'm sure your... kingdom is nice and all, even if I've never heard of it." The mask remained blank, but he injected a grin into his tone. "Name three kingdoms to me." "Why do you live in a falling apart shack if you've got a kingdom, anyway?" He put his hands into fists and rested them on his hips, tilting his head. Then he pondered the Keeper's question a moment before shrugging. "It's not mine. It's my brother's!" Qion'a explained again, with a broad smile. "You lose nothing by coming with me. You can see it, decide if you'd like to stay, and then either do that or leave. I'll give you my word and swear over Menphina's precious hounds that will be the case!" "Menphina has... hounds?" He shook himself free of that distraction. "I mean, uh, fine your brother. Wouldn't family share in a kingdom? That sounds like a pretty big, important thing, after all." "The king is the ultimate authority. Everyone else is only a subject. That's how kingdoms work, and this one is no exception." Qion'a crossed his arms and smiled again. "Now, will you come? There are enough crystals there to feed an army of people like you." The masked miqo'te dropped his arms with a huff. "Will ya leave me alone about it if I take a peek? No promises though!" Not that he had any intention of staying, but he didn't dislike the guy. It might be fun to see what's out beyond the Shroud anyway, he thought, even if just for an couple hours. It had never really occurred to him to explore beyond the bounds of the forest, mostly because he had yet to see the full reaches of this one place. "A little adventure never hurt anyone I guess." Still smiling, Qion'a raised one hand with solemnity. "I will leave you to your own designs. I swear it over Menphina's unending mercy!" Then his hands clapped together. This action caused his imp to hover down from hiding, with its tiny wings and feet flapping and swinging around. "Now then! We should go south if we want to reach my brother's nation in any reasonable ammount of time. Do not worry! It is not that far." "South huh? And not far?" His tone was dubious behind the mask, and he scratched at one ear as he thought through his internal map of the forest - or at least all that he had visited. "... We must have different definitions of far." He moved towards the man then gestured with a shrug. "But lead the way, I guess!" *** The edge between the Thanalan desert and the Gridanian woods was a rather large marsh, as if both of them had met and fought for the ownership of the place, bleeding and flooding the area with murky waters. The Shroud had won, though, and trees were circling and growing at the edges since times so far back that no man could recall. Qion'a lead the masked man, Thal, across this marsh, with the imp called Imp following them high in the air. The marsh was still in sight when they reached their intended destination. Between the tan cliffs that marked Thanalan's reign, there was a cave, open in rock like a wound. The moonkeeper stopped his march in front of it and gestured to it with both hands. "Not the greatest entrance, is it?" Shaking out one foot that had taken an unhappy dip in a particularly deep, murky puddle, the masked man peered past Qion'a towards the cave. He let out a rather unimpressed huff. "That's it? Heh, y'sure you wanna go into a cave stinking up like we do now?" He shook one mud covered leg for illustration. Qion'a waved his hand. This prompted his imp pet to fly into the cave while letting out a strange faint giggle. "This kingdom is not known for its good smells. In fact, I do not believe it is very well known at all." he said. "We can take a moment to rest here if you need it." "Nah, let's just get this over with. Er." He laughed, rubbed at his head and then immediately pulled his hand away when he realized it had mud sticking to it. His ears twitched. "Lead the way, o' great kingdom not-leader guy!" Qion'a pulled a decrepit looking branch from between his dirty red clothes. It had a few dried leaves stubbornly attached, still. If the wind decided to blow with enough strength, the whole thing would surely fall apart. "Do not eat my torch." The makeshift wand was raised and a small, sharp blue glow formed an ilm above it. It quickly grew in size and intensity until it formed an outer irregular shell of magical ice around itself. The light still shone from within, and it was enough to illuminate a fair bit inside the dark cave. He walked in. "That's not very nice. Why would I... huh." Blue light reflected off his mask and caught the blue of his eyes in the shadows of its holes. He watched Qion'a curiously for several seconds, surprised by the spell, before shaking himself and following. "Things better get a lot more impressive before I even think of considering moving to a place like this." As he stepped into the cavern, he suppressed a shudder in his tail. Not being able to see even a part of the sky didn't feel right. Qion'a lead the man across twisting corridors, his glowing wand always raised at head level. Most of the tunnels looked natural. Some, however, had been carved with picks and shovels. There didn't seem to be any logic in the turns he took. He probably knew the way from memory. "The kingdoms of men are always trying to devour each other." he started to ramble. "My mother had no desire to partake in such barbaric traditions, so she kept her kingdom hidden. When my brother took the throne, he reasoned it was still a good idea. You won't see anything impressive along the way, I'm afraid." The masked man thought that he didn't really know what one should expect a kingdom to look like anyway, but certainly some tunnels in the side of a mountain were not it. Still, he walked along, every so often scratching at the drying mud on his skin and pants that left him itchy. For a bit he tried to keep track of the turns they took, but ultimately just gave it up as a lost cause. "So how many people in your... uh, kingdom then? And, uh," he ducked his head to pass beneath a low, rocky protrusion, "I don't suppose ya got any other light source? Heh." "There's plenty of people!" was the reply. "And no, I'm sorry. I should have prepared better." The tunnels they were travelling in had changed indistinguishably from brown rocks and earth into a different kind of brown rock. The walls were chiseled, and they had crossed a pair of pillars at the moment Qion'a answered. Ahead of them, the magical light reflected, creating glints that suggested more and more pillars against the sides of the tunnel. The floor had also changed: at some point it had become more like a tiled road of stone. Qion'a slowed down so that the other man was walking at his side. "I'd suggest you make a small, or big, reverence once we meet my brother. He might feel insulted otherwise." "King under the mountain, heh," the masked man mused to himself, chuckling. His tail swung in slow arcs behind him as he looked about, taking in the innumerable stone pillars and stone walls and stone... everything else. All the stone and shadow - he was already missing the mud and greenery of the Shroud. But it couldn't hurt to humor the guy a little longer, at least to meet his brother. Tossing both his hands behind his head in a lazy gesture, he followed Qion'a with rocking steps. "Wouldn't want that! How long did it take to build this place?" Qion'a hummed in thought. "Hundreds of years, maybe? Though we founded the kingdom on top of it, so I guess the actual answer is no time at all!" he laughed. And his laugh echoed ahead and behind them, leaving the impression that there were at least a few dozen Qion'a laughing in unison inside those tunnels. He placed one hand in the way, to stop the other from walking further. There were no more pillars ahead of them. Or walls. Not even a floor."Imp! Lower the bridge!" he shouted forward, glaring at the dark chasm ahead of them. There was a moment of silence before he reapeated the command. "Imp! Lower-" "I kiled your imp." answered his own voice from beyond the darkness. The masked miqo'te had been peering warily down the impossible drop off when the new voice spoke, and he took several steps back before looking around, ears shifting every which way. "That's not very nice." "What!" Qion'a protested, throwing his hands to the air. The sudden motion made their shadows dance until he calmed down. "I was showing mercy to him! Then once he was filled with Menphina's love, I would unsummon him, and he would spread it in the Void! To his hateful brethren! You have just unmade months of careful planning! Do you know how long it took me to sew that tiny robe for him, To?" "I'm your third brother. Li." the voice came again, this time preceded by a sigh. "How you can forget your own brothers' names is beyond me. Who is that man and why did you bring him here?" Qion'a raised his free hand to take Thal's shoulder, but he found air instead. This made him turn to him. "He's a visitor! An interesting one! He has much in common with your citizens but he has a very special trait." He continued to smile. "Isn't that right?" The man in question squinted at the shadows. "Isn't what right?" There was a pause and then he forced a chuckle, "Heh, I'm no different than anyone else. Hello over there! This your place? It's a bit dark for my tastes." Qion'a gestured towards him, pointing with both his free and busy hands, waving the light in front of his mask. "See? He speaks! I didn't even have to tell him what to say first! And I bet you can't guess what he eats!" There was a long moment of silence before anything else was heard. It was broken by the grinding of rusted gears and the creaking of wood as the bridge was lowered. At the same time, the other side of the chasm light up as shaded figures shambled across it, carrying torches towards the braziers on the edge. The whole room was a big circle, with the chasm not being actually a lethal or even big drop. There was nothing at the bottom but dirt, though. By the time the bridge touched the side Thal and Qion'a were on, the braziers had been lit, showing that the room and chasm was actually an old amphitheatre, all of its walls littered with doors and arches that, presumably, lead to the rest of the 'kingdom'. Qion'li was standing at the other side, wearing robes similar to those of his brother, except they were blue. "Well." he said. "Come over this side, now." Scratching at the back of his neck in thought, the masked man rocked back on his heels as the bridge rolled its way towards them. The unidentifiable, plodding creatures earned a wary eye, but when all they did was light the braziers, he dismissed them as likely harmless. Looking up, he could see the curve of the ceiling now, but watching it made him feel the lack of open air even more; it was oppressive. "Not a talkative guy, is he?" He muttered, leaning towards Qion'a, and followed his words with a low laugh. Then louder and with a broad wave towards the blue-robed Keeper, "Nice to meet ya, Li!" No longer worried about potentially falling to his death, he stepped forward to cross the bridge. Qion'a followed, his wand still lit. "Good way to greet a king!" he chuckled in amusement. His brother, though, did not share the sentiment. From where he was, the braziers didn't manage to illuminate anything more than his blue robes. There were two faint shimmering golden spots where his eyes were, but nothing else of his face could be seen. His skin was dark enough to emulate actual darkness. He was a void with a robe. "Tell me who you are, stranger." Qion'li asked. The masked man paused and curled his toes against the stone, feeling little stray pebbles pushing at the soles of his feet. He glanced back towards Qion'a, then to Qion'li, and then just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Oh yeah. Guess that's a thing people do, huh? I'm--" The shadows of the mask hid the way his eyes wandered as he searched for some kind of answer, and for the first time it occurred to him that maybe he really should be giving that issue some more serious thought. But there wasn't anything to be done for it now. "Uh..." Think, man, think! Wracking his brain, he came across the one name that had found his lips - once, mere moments after an ancient Duskwight had pulled him shaken and confused from the ground. The old man had suggested he shouldn't go calling himself that, but what else was there now? "... I'm Thal!" He forced a grin that was completely hidden by the mask, held out one hand as though to shake, realized he was still several fulms from Qion'li, and then dropped his arm with a slight shrug. "Thal. Like the god." Qion'li stated plainly. "Did I get that right?" The masked miqo'te's ears twitched. "Er... I guess?" "Do not let the name fool you!" Qion'a shouted. "I doubt he's the real god. And while the name is entertaining, I didn't bring him to make a non-practical joke. Or...any kind of joke. I can promise you that over Menph-" "Menphina's rounded bussoms, yes, fine!" completed the other, annoyed. His whole body shook and a frustrated huff came from his throat. "If he /is/ a joke I'm throwing you both down that pit!" he added while he walked towards them. The masked man gestured with one hand, "Hey now, I'm right here, and I'm no joke! This how you treat guests in your... kingdom place?" The 'king' stood before Thal. With Qion'a's magical light shining behind them, his features were a lot more obvious. He looked exactly like his brother. He lifted his hand, a spark of aether forming between his fingertips. He traced a glyph in the air The glyph illuminated the red-haired man's face, and bright blue flashed in the recesses of the mask as he blinked at the strange glyph. "Whatcha got there?" His ears and tail shifted, undeniably a bit unnerved by Qion'li's attitude. Straightening his posture, the masked miqo'te watched with some curiousity and some caution as the glyph wobbled almost imperceptibly, like ripples in water when colliding with an object. Qion'li kept his hands in the air, touching the glyph as its shape stirred faintly. He hummed. "The king is interested." he stated, dropping his hand. The glyph quickly faded away without someone to give it shape. "Why do you call yourself 'Thal'?" The man who had called himself Thal twice now made a face which he was likely very lucky was covered by his mask. Then he laughed, bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, and shrugged, "First thing that came to mind? Why do you call yourself the king?" "Because...someone took 'sultan' first." he answered after a brief and dry laugh. "You seem intelligent enough to take your own decisions. But still, tell me, what wishes do you have? Are there any thoughts forming a clog in your mind?" The masked miqo'te leaned back on his heels and twisted his neck towards Qion'a. "Should I be insulted at that?" Then back to Qion'li, "I think I should be insulted at that. So right now I'm thinking: You're not a very polite king." He chuckled, but only briefly. Qion'a placed one hand on Thal's shoulder. "Oh, it's not personal! He doesn't see many citizens who can actually talk. Much less snark back at him." The king huffed. "Fine, then! Let me treat you properly." he said, giving them his back and walking back towards the braziers. "Welcome to the Invisible City. Or a piece of it, anyway. We have a population of two hundred. Our main imports are nothing and our main exports are bugger all! And my brother brought you here because you are an interesting case to study. Allegedly, anyway." "Nu uh, he brought me here cause he wanted me to see his fancy kingdom, and I'm humoring him." The man forced a useless grin and hesitated in following after Qion'li. "Gotta say... Well, the architecture's nice. But I don't think it's my style." "Yes, well..." Qion'a mumbled."I thought you'd feel some affinity to the place. I guess I was wrong!" Qion'li continued walking until he was in front of one of the many doors. There was nothing special about the one he was at, besides it being on the center of the stage. "We'll be studying you anyway. I'll give you To's room, since you seem to have an aesthetic sense besides a brain." He said this plainly, as if what he was saying wasn't particularly strange. The masked man's tail stilled. "What?" He turned to Qion'a after a moment and jabbed one finger at him, "Funny joke. I think I've gone about as long as I can stand without seeing the sun, so let's be going now." "Ahaha! Yes...! Wait, no. You can't leave. I'm sorry, but this is of utmost importance!" Qion'a smiled and gestured the other way, towards his brother, who was looking at them in a combined state of boredom and curiosity. The king sighed. "Do I need to wager with this man? I guess I will." He coughed once, placed one hand behind him and adopted a regal pose. "The study would at most take a week. It would be of great help and I'm sure I could compensate you. Maybe accomodate you closer to the surface?" "There's a nice view on the western side. You can see right up to the sky and the horizon. The whole of Thanalan and the Garlean war machinery, even! Maybe." Qion'a added. Grimacing behind his mask, the miqo'te waved both hands at shoulder height. Though his voice was calm, his tail flicked in short, rapid gestures belying no small amount of edginess, "Eeeeh, sorry, this wasn't really part of my plan." He made to step around Qion'a. As he moved, he cast over his shoulder, "I'm sure you can find someone else! And they probably wouldn't be as picky either." The red robed man actually moved aside to let him pass. The other, however, spoke up loudly. "Or I could also use your lifeless corpse." At the threatening words, the masked miqo'te bristled and all but danced around Qion'a in his haste to position himself on the other side of the bridge. His tail puffed out in much the same way it had in the face of the voidsent from before, and though he kept himself retreating in backwards steps, he broadened his stance and arms. In contrast to all this, he forced his voice to stay light - or as much as he could manage, though a tense undercurrent ran through it, "I'm thinking I wouldn't be very good company that way. Besides, I've been in a grave once already. Too boring." "Interesting choice of words! Aren't you curious as to who raised you? Or who placed you there?" his majesty asked. "I know who pulled me out," his steps carried him off the bridge finally and onto the broader path they'd entered on, "Aaaand other things are better left unknown, I think!" "Very well!" exclaimed the king. "Wander around in those tunnels and think about it. I'll send someone for you in a few bells." He opened the door behind him and went through. Still on the bridge, Qion'a smiled at Thal. "Do not worry! Getting out is easy. Just follow the right wall until the sixth turn left, then you just go forward instead and take the right wall again after the third opening. Then you just have to continue forward until you can't anymore! At which point you just follow the left wall to the exit." Backing up still, the masked miqo'te's ears pressed back and then aggressively forward. "I'll just follow my nose." Then he spun in one step and ran. Qion'a watched Thal flee from the kingdom into the tunnel. He waited a few instants before turning and heading towards the door his brother had used moments before. "You scared him off!" he said, arms flailing to the saids. "Now I'll have to bring him back. And it will be twice as hard, the next time!" As he vanished inside the door, shaded figures moved across the platforms and the pits. The bridge was raised, and the light from the braziers simply dissapeared along with Qion'a.

You realize none of the Baron Geddon mechanics (to use your example) are actually difficult? A pulsing AoE (mitigated with fire resist). A DoT that drained mana that needed to be dispeled (unless the target resisted it because of fire resist gear). An "if you get targeted by this, run away from everyone" ability. And a dps check in the last 2% of HP. Oh no. So "crazy". Mechanics-wise, I could do that fight in my sleep. There are fights in XIV, which has the easiest raid content I've ever encountered, that are harder than that (and a lot of the rest of vanilla WoW). And definitely 90% of WoW that came after was more difficult. Making spell choices based on rank isn't hard. A good player knows "how much" their heals hit for and doesn't even have to think about which to cast, because they see how large the chunk of health is that's missing from their target and they just how much they need to heal. It's all just muscle memory. Balancing damage stats isn't hard, only a matter of maybe some rudimentary math and an understanding of how your class's spells work. Stance dancing isn't hard (hello macros); I did it all the time PvPing on prot; it's no different than knowing when to hit any other spell. Things like players' attitudes towards racials isn't attributable to difficulty; that's just min-maxers being min-maxers and WoW being obscenely unbalanced at the time. The only thing in your walls of text that is an applicable challenge is managing threat and mana, but both of those become exponentially easier with gear and neither of them were as balls-to-the-wall hard as you are pretending they were.

From my first post on this subject, I have been discussing the difficulty of raid boss mechanics. That is my criterion for difficulty, especially when they are mechanics that are not easily overgeared. Reacting to and planning ahead against a myriad of boss/environment abilities provides challenge. Button mashing does not. Perhaps that is why I have always played tanks and healers in MMOs and hate playing DPS. But really, you can't say things like "but your skills are not what they were in vanilla" and expect people to not feel as though you are insulting them. Tone down the completely irrelevant and misplaced superiority.

[edit] You keep changing your definition of "hard" to make you right in your mind. First it was just difficult content. Then it was that you had to spend a lot of time preparing because of gear-resist checks and flasks (as though later expacs didn't have consumables...). Then it was OMG DPS and but the raid leader has to manage 40 people!!!!! None of those speak to the actual mechanics of the fight. So. Nevermind. I'm tired of egos. ;

Bottom line is: Gear walls with resistance checks and attunements do not count as boss difficulty. Mastering your rotation is something you still have to do and doesn't count as boss difficulty, though with the increased complexity of fight mechanics, I would argue it is harder now to maintain one's rotation than it was in vanilla WoW. Healing has come a long way from being primarily focused on managing mana (still something you had to do, until gear scaling advanced in each expansion - I think Blizz just had trouble figuring out how to properly scale their healer stats, but I definitely remember having to be worried about mana when raiding through the first tier of MoP) to being primarily focused on planning and pre-casting and setting up for damage one predicts to happen - basically a giant chess game. I don't understand how you can possibly type with a straight face that boss mechanics now are not more difficult and complex than what they were in vanilla. As for puging, it's infinitely easier to pug when you only need to gather 10 people (maximum 25) as opposed to 40. But that's just a numbers thing and has nothing to do with fight difficulty. You obviously refuse to remove your nostalgia glasses, though, so more power to ya.

Your delusion is incredibly powerful, but if it makes you happy... >_>

No, bosses weren't more difficult. Mechanics in boss fights from vanilla WoW were objectively less complex. Most of the sense of difficulty came from the game (and the genre) being relatively young and "Ooooh must organize 40 people!" The original incarnation of Naxxramas came close (though that was in large part due to its high gear requirement compared to what the majority of players were in), but if you look at the layers of mechanics in the majority of fights across end game content in vanilla WoW, you will see that Blizzard has, over the years, stepped it up quite a bit. I suggest you read this article. I apologize for trying to shatter your rose tinted glasses but really, don't let nostalgia color history so much.

There's no way that hair isn't styled! It's so perfectly floofy and smooth.

Oh man. Did you seriously just pull the "wrath baby" card? Really? Whether you started playing the game in 2004, 2007, 2009, or 2013 really has no real bearing on one's skill. WoW has changed so dramatically over the years that it's pretty much a completely different game - complete with new spell dynamics and intensely more difficult boss fights - than it was 5, 7, 10 years ago. Just going to put that out there.

Lamandu presses his lips together into a deeper frown, "This matter concerning the financial dealings of the Dodo tribe were brought to my attention when she went through the Pearl Street records, and as the case was now pertinent to my office, I have had to join with her to see it through. Antimony's personal life has not had any reason to be my business. An incident involving her and Desfosse was what led to the later's suspension though." Distancing himself from Antimony would be an excellent idea right now, given that the Sultansworn seemed to be ripe to spring some nasty accusations on the woman. Multiple times throughout D'themia and Learner's combined retort, Antimony attempted to stammer in a word edgewise, or two, or three, but their persistence overrode any sounds of protest she made. When they spoke of D'ahl's death, she paled, green eyes widening and ears pressing back against her skull. When they suggested her own involvement, her tail twisted itself into knots of distress. At mention of Loughree's potential violent actions, she swallowed. And Lamandu! Even the lalafell joined in, and she turned her head to stare at him worriedly for several seconds. "That--I have played no part in Miss Desfosse's antics aside--aside from offering her shelter from someone who sought to take her life!" Antimony cringed at that, realizing almost immediately she may have said too much. She wondered a bit shrilly how the nunh and this Sultansworn had learned of everything they spoke of, and tightened her grip on her bag. "None... my relationship to--Aijeen has nothing to do with this investigation!" She finally exclaimed, ears splayed out in anxiety. "It was assigned to me by Miss Illira Carceri, not D'hein Tia as you believe. These accusations of-of--they are improper!" He turned quickly towards Antimony, "Wait... Illira... Illira Carceri?" the name was more than a little familiar to him, "The Elezen you just brought into this, she's his family?" A laugh finds its way out of his throat. "This is a twisted little puzzle we have now found ourselves in, friends." "Illira Carceri," said Bayard Learner, still holding the papers of Antimony's investigation in his hand. "She would not happen to be related to Amaury Carceri, whom D'hein Tia freed from prison and instructed to participate in this investigation, would it?" D'edy spun happily, "Oh no!" In contrast, D'themia Nunh remained somber. "We are all mourning the death of D'ahl right now. D'aijeen has not been seen since handing over the body. Our attempts to extract information from D'hein Tia have failed. If you know anything of where she has gone, I implore you to tell us. I just want my tribe to be together in the aftermath of this tragedy." The thin-tailed Nunh vaulted over the dandelion-headed huntress who still lay face-down in humiliation. Bayard Learner watched him with a frown and said to Lamandu, "You mean to imply that you did not continue to stay abreast inappropriate interactions between your subordinate and the woman investigating your records?" Lamandu eyes narrow at the newest accusation, "Do not tell me how to handle my people. Lou and I have spoken on matters, though she is not the most forthcoming of people, and simply seemed to need some distance from the stress of the Blades to process matters. Hence the leave. At this time, Antimony had completed her investigation of our records. It was only yesterday that she returned to me about further matters and requested my assistance here. There was no cause to assume further interaction between Antimony and Lou." "Any further interaction had nothing to do with the investigation!" Antimony insisted, her tail writhing. She turned her furrowed brow from Lamandu to the others, pursed lips twitching. "This is--this is an affront. You are attempting to deflect the investigation by bringing up meaningless... inaccurate distractions! I won't stand for it." There was a soft murmuring from the huntresses around the room, and even dandelion-head began to stir from her humiliated repose on the floor. D'themia Nunh watched Antimony evenly, though his fingers curled somewhat. "Yesterday you intruded upon this Commune and confronted a member of our family, a woman for whom I am responsible. Today, that woman is dead, and another missing. You will stand for that?" The stirring women in the room went silent and still. D'edy Nunh did not, though he did not choose to speak. "Nothing will turn aside the truth in this matter." The Sultansworn man said, raising the paperwork in his hand. "One or both of you are trying to deflect, either from economic fraud or from the murders. It will not succeed. All of you are under investigation by the Sultansworn beginning now." "This is... this..." Antimony sputtered, wrung her hands about her bag, drew her shoulders up in a tense, defensive posture. "This is nonsense!" Then she expelled a long breath. It would do no good to go off the deep end here. She knew D'themia's accusations were ridiculous, and he must know her own were threateningly accurate. She needed to remain cool. Professional. Calm. Calm. Antimony was not very good at calm. "I do not have the authority to pass the burden of the investigation on to you, Sultansworn Learner," she managed after a moment. "This is under the purview of the CRA, with the backing of the Grand Companies. I request you let me complete my duties." "And I have told you the truth, Learner. I am not your enemy this, not that you care, obviously," responded Lamandu coolly. "You are correct that I do not care, Commaner." Bayard glared at the Lalafel, and then eyes Antimony. "The Sultansworn do not require the permission of the Flames to conduct a murder investigation that was brought to our very offices, especially when contractors of the Flames are suspects. That is one of the purposes of the manifold leadership of the Syndicate. I'm very close to arresting all four of you." "Three," D'edy corrected, with uncanny speed, his joyful meandering halted. "Antimony, Lamandu, D'themia. Three." The Sultansworn frowned at him. "You do not seem to mourn your dead sister." The thin Nunh flailed his arms and protested, "That's not because I'm guilty! I'm just a harmless psychopath!" D'themia Nunh stood and said coolly, "My friend, if you arrest myself and D'edy nunh, D'hein Tia will be left in charge of the tribe's resources." "Do you think that means that I'll leave one of you free?" Learner shook his head. "I'll just arrest all three of you, then." "Quite annoying!" D'edy observed. "On what grounds? Anything you are proposing is circumstantial at best, Learner. Certainly questioning seems in order, but... no. You must have more for an arrest." Lamandu would be all to happy to simply leave the Miqo'te to being arrested, but Learner was insisting on bringing him in as well. And for once, he really had nothing to do with it, just his luck. "This is absurd!" Antimony managed to force out the words she'd struggled with prior. Her nose wrinkled with a narrow frown. "Carry out your own investigation if you want, Sultansworn Learner," she was proud that her voice only squeaked just slightly at that, "but I will not have my own work delayed because of it. D'themia Nunh, I again request access to your tribe's financial records." The Nunh turned to her, "I will not resist your investigation, Antimony, but I don't think you're going to find that which you seek." "Spend your time wisely," the Sultansworn said, handing the paperwork back to D'themia. Once the man had taken it in his clawed hands, Bayard Learner turned to walk towards the exit. "For very soon I will be returning with a cohort of Sultansworn to take certain people among you in for questioning, and perhaps to hold you on suspicion." He gave the huntresses a glare, "I trust you will not be foolish enough to resist." "You will have our cooperation." D'themia turned and pointed at the dandelion-headed huntress on the ground, "You! Accompany the Sultansworn, and take D'edy with you. Make sure he goes." "Awwww no!" D'edy wailed, raising his hands and backing away. At the orders from her Nunh, however, the huntress jumped up from the floor and took D'edy by his robes, pulling the tiny man along towards the exit very easily. "C'mon, D'edy! We're going to go to work!" The thin Nunh continued to resist futilely. "But it's just gonna be paperwooooork!" "We're all looking forward to your return Learner," Lamandu said before addressing the other matter at hand, "Let us do what we came here to do." He gestures towards Antimony, "Please, ask D'themia what you will." Antimony watched the Sultansworn exit in tense silence, her hands worrying the leather of her bag until the material was horribly cracked and wrinkled. When he was gone, she rocked on the balls of her feet, feeling as though someone had tossed her out to sea. "This--" she began and then stifled her words, closing her eyes and screwing up her face until she felt calm enough to continue. Finally looking first to Lamandu and then D'themia, she spoke, "The dates of the suspect transactions are listed in the papers there. I will need your records from those same dates to corroborate the data." A breath. "Should they match, I will report such back to my superiors, at which point the investigation will be placed in the hands of another higher in the Agency." D'themia looked at the papers in his hand. He didn't read them, he just looked at them as though he wasn't sure what they were. He listened to D'edy's continuing protests as he was lead down the hall outside. D'themia glanced up at Antimony, down at Lamandu, around the room at the huntresses that still stood in silence. "I see." He looked back to Antimony, readjusted his stance, crossed his arms across his belly and said, "Why do you look like D'ahl, and what did you fight about, and why is she dead?" Sighing, Lamandu interrupted, "Those are all things that Learner will ask her on his return, I am sure. Please do not change the subject, and give her access to the documents that she requires." The lalafel reaches into his coat pocket, unfolding the thick, official looking paper before showing it to D'themia. The paper was a warrant for the requested financial documents. "This isn't an option." Antimony leaned back slightly, lifting her head and glaring across at D'themia. Something in his words pushed a heavy, red hot button in her thoughts, and suddenly the investigation fell away. Even Lamandu's weilding of the warrant did not return her attention. "And why have you," she marched forward, dropping her bag and lifting one finger as she stomped towards the nunh, "poisoned my daughter's mind with disturbed and twisted notions of what love is? Why have you not prevented her from continuing her evil magic? I know she is still summoning demons, I know it, and you and this tribe have done nothing to save her. You have only hurt and confused my daughter!" Utterly unmoved by the warrant, the Nunh kept his gaze on Antimony and frowned a little deeper. "Is that why you killed D'ahl? Because you blame her, blame us, for the woman your daughter grew up to be? We did everything we could for her. She cam here broken. You're the one who raised her to be what she was. We couldn't change that. And because it's easier for you to blame us, you kill a member of my family?" Heaving a heavy sigh, Lamandu pulled the warrant back into his pocket folded as he took a nearby seat. Apparently, he wasn't going to be allowed to escape this disaster anytime soon, though he did have one last plea, "Can we not go about the actual business that we are here for?" "I have killed no one!" She vaguely heard Lamandu's begging, but it was all too easy to ignore it, especially when this, right here - this was why she had truly come to the Dodo commune. She stopped close to D'themia, green eyes narrowed, her tail bushed out. "Your D'ahl attacked me in this place, but I have done nothing to her. She, however, has corrupted my daughter!" "You are the corrupting force here!" D'themia shouted, the muscles in his shoulders and arms moving so that for a moment it looked like he was going to strike her. The huntresses tensed. But the violence expelled itself in a rough growl as D'themia turned his back on Antimony and stomped away. "D'hein and D'ahl were stable enough, even enduring the loss of D'ahl's child, until D'aijeen came along, with her corruptions and perversions. The Nunh that preceded me was merciless to that child of yours! But he is gone now. I tried mercy and understand, and now D'ahl is dead, and D'hein plots against me, and the child is gone!" He turned and pointed an angry finger at Antimony. "This comes from you! She is your daughter, the spawn of the Witch of the Sagolii! The twisted creature you misplaced has cursed my tribe!" "You have no right to call me such a thing, nor speak of Aijeen in such a way," Antimony hissed and pressed after the nunh, his retreat feeling like a slap in the face, a rejection of her grievances. "She is a child and cannot be blamed for her actions. But you--you and every last one of your... family," she spat the word as though it were a curse, her ears shivering against her skull, "You can be blamed. She left me, but you could not help her! You did worse than help her - you hurt her further, you've driven her to--to do terrible things! What she did with D'ahl, what she's done with me, and everything else you have all turned a blind eye to in your--your quest for understanding...!" She reached out and grabbed at his arm as she snapped, "You horrible people have willfully broken my baby girl, and I will never forgive it!"

"Thank you," Antimony spoke into the linkpearl. Then she hesitated, pursing her lips and lifting her chin slightly at the nunh and the Sultansworn. "He won't have any trouble getting back in will he?" Her tone suggested that there was a correct answer to that question. "No," answered D'themia Nunh, keeping his very serious but not ungracious, dark eyes on Antimony. "I must admit that the names Amaury Carceri, Lamandu Tyremandu, and Antimony Jhanhi have been known to me seperately before today. Never had they occurred together, though, and I would not have expected to see all your faces in one place." "It's unsettling." The Sultansworn Hyur said, his own eyes set on Lamandu, and not in a very friendly way. "You say, Captain, that you are merely assisting the C.R.A.? But how do you explain-" "Please," D'themia turned, extending a hand out beside him to block Bayard Learner's words. The Sultansworn shifted his glare to the Miqo'te, but D'themia Nunh said very smoothly, very gravely, "Let us not overwhelm the situation with disjointed details. I believe that we have been brought a tale, and evidence." The man beckoned to Antimony and Lamandu, "Come and share with us what you have prepared." Meanwhile, D'edy Nunh continued to balance on the precarious windowsill, humming happily and swinging his arms to maintain balance. Every once in awhile he would spin to test himself. The shadow he threw across the room undercut the dire air which had predominated before his arrival, and the huntresses seemed annoyed by this. Reluctantly, the dandelion-haired woman separated herself from the wall, sneaking towards the window and hissing as quietly as she could manage, "D'edy! Stop it! You're going to fall!" "This," Antimony hesitated, adjusted her grip on her bag with its sensitive papers, and cast a short glance towards the Sultansworn, "is not quite something meant for public eyes." Though there couldn't be much harm in a servant to the Sultana overhearing it, right? Her tail shifted along with her ears. "The CRA was commissioned for an investigation into suspicious financial matters regarding the Brass Blades here, and our investigation has come to you, or your tribe." His eyes widening for just a moment, as his head snapped away from the sultansworn to Antimony beside him. "These are matters to be -privately- discussed with the Dodo tribe head, D'themia. Do not say anything more regarding the matter until then Antimony." The daft woman had practically just thrown him under the bus, 'suspicious financial matters regarding the Brass Blades here'. What other Brass Blade was here? And with the white-knight bastard two feet from them. "Oh, yes," D'themia nodded, sounding thoughtfully mocking. "Commissioned to investigate." "The time for privacy is over, Lamandu!" Bayard pointed angrily, his voice rising to a shout and his armor clattering with the effort. "I have a pile of corpses and no explanation! Starting now, you're under investigation!" D'edy stopped cold in his tracks as he walked along the window, head popping up, body going rigid. "What! Corpses?" At that moment, his foot slipped and he had to catch his balance, arms and tail windmilling in the attempt. The dandelion-headed huntresses flew into motion, jumping forward, shouting his name, and extending her arms to catch him. Just as she was about to catch him, though, D'edy Nunh' balance righted as though it had never been lost, he knocked the huntresses' arms aside and leaned forward to kiss the unsuspecting woman on the lips. She squeaked in surprise and went rigid. All of which fell below the attention of D'themia Nunh and Bayard Learner. "Corpses?" Antimony echoed, green eyes blinking rapidly as her furrowed brow lifted. "That... I've nothing to speak on regarding corpses! Just... money." She shifted her weight to one foot, was briefly distracted by the so-called nunh cavorting in the background, and then cleared her throat before adding, "I can only discuss this in the presence of assigned parties. This, ah, Mister... Learner...?" "It seems we are here about entirely different matters all together then. I do not know what investigation you are talking Learner, if you wish to talk about that with me, we can do so at another time." Lamandu's tone held a sharp edge, caught by surprise as he was by the insinuating sultansworn. The dandelion-headed huntress remained stock-still where D'edy Nunh had caught her lips with his own, the thin man teetering on meager partition that fronted the window. When the huntress cam back to herself, she snapped back, hiss and threw a fist at D'edy Nunh. The man's thin tail flipped about for balance as he evaded the punch, leaning out the window. "Your reluctance to discuss your business in front of me is noted." Bayard Learner crossed his arms over his chest with a heavy metallic clank, looking no happier. His anger had cooled, and his voice carried a threatening tone. "I will be noting in paperwork as well." D'edy fell out of the window with a small, panicked yelp. The huntress that had punched screeched when she realized what she'd done, her tail puffing out to an incredible circumference -- even the hair on her head seeming to spread as the ears concealed beneath it shot up -- and threw herself forward to try and catch him. Just as she leaned oout the window in a panicked attempt to catch the Nunh, D'edy pulled himself back into the room and kissed her again. D'themia Nunh gestured to the Sultansworn. "My friend here is excitable but an honest enforcer of law. If you trust one man in this room, Antimony Jhanhi, let it be him. As for the Brass Blade..." The puffy-haired huntress fell backwards into the room. "Thal take you, D'edy." Her face flashed bright red in humiliation before she crossed her arms over her head and rolled onto her stomach to press her face against the floor. D'edy Nunh left her like that, jumping over her and running towards the exit, laughing loudly and throwing his arms out to either side. Bayard finished for him, "He will need to accept that this is outside of his control, and that it is very unlikely that he will leave here with his career intact. If you truly do not want to be involved in my investigation, I suggest you present what you came her to present. Otherwise I'll have to assume it's connected." As D'edy ran past the center of the room, D'themia Nunh spun suddenly and caught the man by his neck, slamming him on the floor hard. The larger man's voice darkened as he shouted, "D'edy Nunh! Be quiet!" "Ow," the man pouted, his fluffy ears laying forward and pushing his hair in front of his eyes. D'themia shouted again, "Quiet!" D'edy Nunh kicked his skinny legs. "But you're all just talking about money and boring stuff!" Lamandu ws still in the dark about why the Sultansworn were here, and apparently about matters that they thought he was detrimentally involved in, "I do not take kindly to threats, Learner. If you must continue to do so, tell me at least what you are threatening me over. As I said, I am only here to assist Miss Jhanhi in her investigation, as she has run into hurdles that required local enforcement to see through." The ruckus going on the rest of the room was just background noise to him, as any relaxation that the wine afforded him was sapped by all the antagonism he had found in this day. Antimony gradually became aware that her mouth was gaping, her eyes having been impossibly drawn to the spectacle D'edy and the dandelion head had made of themselves. When D'themia and the Sultansworn spoke, the older woman only stood there agog for several seconds, blinking at the man pinned to the floor. Then her ears and tail shook, she coughed, and blurted out, "He is a nunh?!" She very nearly clapped her hands over her mouth at that unintended exclamation, but managed to keep them rooted to her bag. She coughed again, ears shifting back, and stammered out, "I mean, that is, of--of course he... Aah! Perhaps... perhaps I should just get down to it! Yes, yes, I'll do just that..." She could feel a heat in her face as she dropped her eyes to rummage in her bag for a particular set of papers. D'themia Nunh sighed, relaxing his grip on D'edy. "Finally. Let's see-" "I said I was a Nunh!" D'edy popped up to his feet as soon as he had half a chance. "Or, I thought I did." The larger Nunh growled at him, but D'edy appeared clueless as to why, looking behind himself to see if D'themia was perhaps growling at someone else. "You claim to not know," the Sultansworn said, annoyance still on his tongue. "There were multiple deaths near the Ossuary last night, and one of the Blades under your command has been arrested under suspicion. I come here investigating this, and then you appear with this woman? Too much coincidence for my taste. For your sake I hope your business is as innocuous as you claim." Thin brows snapped together, "Who was it? None of this has been reported back down to me, unless... Just tell me who, I believe that I have an idea though." It had to be Lou, she had been on suspension ever since she had locked herself in the jail sometime ago now, but he would rather hear it from the Sultansworn first. "Multiple deaths," Antimony echoed weakly, ears dropping as she retrieved her sought after papers. She shuffled them in her hands and failed at becoming any less flustered, "That... I don't have any idea what you're referring to! This is only--" She flicked her eyes between D'themia and the Sultansworn, "--only a matter of money! Not murder or any... such thing." The papers were straight enough. She hoped they were in the proper order. Her arm extended towards D'themia Nunh with the papers; the Commerce Regulation Agency's seal glared in a spot of prominence upon the top page. "The formal accusation, sir. Your accounts have been found connected to a series of monetary transactions using ghost companies to Brass Blade officers." "Oh, that's troubling." D'themia Nunh reached out and took the papers, his clawed hands curling over them as he pulled them to his chest and moved to sit down. "I wonder which officers they are, and which of my companies do not exist which I thought did?" He opened the papers and began to look through them, calmly. He had a few seconds of peace before D'edy Nunh joined him on the seat, landing hard and smacking his body against the other man's. "Are we in trouble?" D'edy said, looking at the paperwork. His question won him rolled eyes, a grown, and then he was ignored. Bayard Learner considered Lamandu for a long, quiet moment. "Desfosse. And don't pretend she has been out of contact." "The numbers I have collected do not lie," as Antimony spoke, she felt the wild hair from a moment earlier begin to fade, though Lamandu and the Sultansworn's interaction continued to disturb her. Miss Desfosse had been involved in murder...? But she'd already stepped into the waters with D'themia; that required now her full attention, however difficult it may be to give. Pursing her lips, Antimony added, "I require access to your financial records, and I recommend cooperation." Feeling more of a direct threat by way of Learner, Lamandu stepped towards him, off to the side of the conversation that Antimony had so long sought out. Lowering his voice he said, "Yes, as soon as you spoke of that, she was who came to mind. Loughree Desfosse has been on indefinite suspension, pending a reassessment of her mental fitness for duty. What you are talking about now, has not been brought to attention and she was not due to check back in with us for another few days. I may have information pertinent to her behavior, though." "You will be given your chance to cooperate." the Sultansworn kept his head high and spoke in a lofty tone. D'edy, reading over D'themia's shoulder, pointed at the page. "What's this one?" "That is a rare goods procurement agency," D'themia glanced at the thinner man and indicated something on the page. "It's a legitimate business, but see this number's just a bit too high for Antimony's liking." "Oh. And what's this one?" "That's nothing. It's empty page. Nothing is written there." "Ah hah. And what's-" D'themia pulled the page away from him. "Stop it." Ignoring D'edy's silent protests, the larger Nunh turned his gaze on Antimony. "Perhaps your numbers do not lie, and perhaps I will cooperate, but I am not sure it is you whom I will cooperate with. Learner!" D'themia lifted the pages. "I would have the Sultansworn's eyes here so that justice and truth can be known." "You could not have avoided our involvement, Dodo." The Sultansworn stepped away from Lamandu. "What is this regarding?" "Fraudulent accounts and bribery." D'themia's passive gaze remained on Antimony. "According to Antimony and Lamandu, my tribe is quite the corrupt entity." The lalafell frowns, not liking to be ignored, almost as much as he disliked being threatened, but not having a choice he joined the now dominating conversation at hand, "I do have a warrant on my person for the records, but it should be noted that actual cooperation would be looked more kindly on, down the road." Antimony folded her hands over one another on her satchel and nodded at Lamandu's words, though she kept her eyes on D'themia. She hoped she didn't look to anxious or over-eager; she certainly felt the former. The nunh's rough features were rather difficult to read as he perused the summary she'd given him, but she could predict the likely defensiveness. Swallowing, she tapped the fingers of one hand against those of her other. "Captain Tyremandu is correct. The evidence is there that someone with direct control of the Dodo tribe's finances was funneling gil through a number of businesses that no longer exist, all on Ruby Road, money that was then collected by Brass Blade members as part of their, er, standard local taxation. Now," she pulled her posture up tight, "where might I begin?" "You might begin by waiting," the Sultansworn answered, taking the papers from D'themia and turning his eyes on them. D'edy frowned up at him, "What's with all the waiting? This would be exciting if everyone wasn't being so cordial." "Stop it," D'themia grabbed the other Nunh by his ear, pulling him off center and making him fall sideways. "Cordiality is not my concern. Even if this fraud is authentic," the Sultansworn gave the two Nunhs a biting look, "And if it is an authentic fraud, we will discern so and prosecute accordingly," before looking back to the pages, "It does not excuse the incredible conflict of interest and sheer convenience of the timing. I'm afraid I have to assume that these two issues are inextricable." From where he lay on his side, D'edy Nunh whined, "What's inextricable mean? This isn't fair! I don't understand!" "Conflict of interest?" Antimony managed offense in your tone and expression - not a particularly difficult feat. The nerve! "Sultansworn Learner, the Commerce Regulation Agency is a nonpartisan regulatory body. We have no special interest in this case beyond investigating it as a potential fraud." "And the incident last night is only related in that Desfosse, a suspect has a connection with my office; I think you are reading too far into things, Learner. Be that as it may, this is a CRA investigation, it is not the Sultansworn to prosecute." Lamandu reasoned, getting only more unhappy with Learner's presence the longer he is in it. Frowning deeper and exhaling a loud huff, Bayard Learner turned on Antimony and Lamandu. "You must think that I do not pay very close attention. It's possible that this fraud is a ruse to discredit D'themia, based on the fact that your investigation is the brainchild of one D'hein Tia, who would become Nunh if D'themia were incarcerated." D'themia Nunh leaned forward, clicking his claws together. "Being Nunh of this tribe means being in control of its fiscal resources, so D'hein Tia would gain a great deal of wealth were he to stage a successful coupe, though he is too cowardly to challenge me outright. D'hein Tia is also the man responsible for releasing Amaury Carceri from prison prematurely, and putting him to work on this case." "Antimony Jhanhi," the Sultansworn lowered his papers. "Loughree Desfosse spent several nights in your inn room recently. You and D'hein both also have a very close relationship with D'aijeen Thalen, whom was the person that brought the incident to our attention shortly before dawn this morning." D'edy Nunh stood and began to pace the room, smiling. "Ah, that's the interesting stuff! And she looks just like D'ahl, remember!" "By way of explanation," D'themia said, keeping his gaze on Antimony. "Very early this morning, D'aijeen went to the Sultansworn for help and brought them to D'ahl's body. D'ahl was terribly mutilated, as though from an animal attack. Given everything we know about your relationship with D'aijeen, the fact that you've made yourself look so like D'ahl, and that you had a very audible altercation with D'ahl inside this very Commune, more than a few members of this tribe assume you have something to do with her death." "Furthermore," Learner said, addressing his words to Lamandu. "Four bodies were found nearby where the Dodo woman was killed, all dead refugees, and your Loughree Desfosse is the primary suspect. Given everything I've explained, it would be ludicrous for me to assume the crimes unrelated. And now you all appear together to level charges of fraud against the chief rival of D'hein Tia." "Yes!" D'edy shouted, happily, spinning and giving Antimony a broad smile and a fast nod. "I told you it would be interesting! What's going to happen now?" His fluffy ears stood straight up, his thin tail swinging fast behind him.

The lore surrounding the housing districts is troubling, because the NPCs say they're basically there only for adventurers, which... would exclude many RPers from ever considering using them. I kinda just ignore that part, because it's silly. I'll also at times pretend the house is somewhere it isn't. For example, I've used Unity's FC house as a stage for a cafe-type place set in Ul'dah.

Oh oh, I'd like to grab a slot! I would really, really like it if you could do a sketch that evokes the scene in this little flashfic from Anti's wiki: Name: K'piru and K'thalen Which composition: Full body Color/multiple char. request?: Two characters, color Background color: Something that implies shadows Background request: If you want, you could include some simple items like baskets, bowls, bags, etc. Up to you, it doesn't need a lot of detail - more of a mood thing than anything! Any other information: The scene occurred many decades ago, so the characters would be young, not quite teens. K'piru's hair, thus, wouldn't be grey but the brown that you can see in the highlights I gave her, and with the two side braids but hanging down otherwise. K'thalen... well, he'd probably look about the same, just younger! As for clothing, just loose pants for K'thalen (no shirt or shoes), and K'piru would be wearing some kind of simple wrap or a really long shirt-dress thing, also no shoes though. Oh and no glasses! Another note, I'll leave it up to you whose perspective you want to draw it from - could be either K'piru's or K'thalen's. :3 And some reference images! For Anti: Here and here For K'thalen: Here and here

Not society. The world. Earth is much greater than human social interactions.

Ants influence the planet in more ways than you're clearly aware. They are architects of entire ecosystems, upon which many humans depend. It's all a matter of perspective. [edit] Oh god, I'm extolling the virtues of my greatest nemesis... the world is surely ending. Also, I think I lost the point of the argument at some point and now I'm just trying to counter a human-centric perspective. I don't think comparing F2P mmos to insects is a very good comparison anyway, as insects are absolutely vital to functioning ecosystems and do us a great deal of good. F2P mmos... while they may be important, they've overrun the market so much that they're more like cancer.

And yet you will never be able to eliminate even a tiny fraction of all ants. You're powerless before their combined might.

Actually, the majority of the animations were ripped wholesale from TERA class attacks (I recognized most of them immediately), just with some shiny graphics slapped on top. The only exception is the gun class, and... that actually has animations ripped from Aion. Lololol.