RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

***Nero*** · **09-05-2014, 01:43 PM**

Despite his reaction, Roen's words did propel Nero's thoughts somewhat. What did he expect from her? He expected her to be willing to sacrifice her virtue. He expected her to protest and perhaps despise his methods, but to recognise when they contributed to their goals. He expected her to always hold on to her compassion for the people, but to discard that compassion when it became necessary for the sake of those same people.

He expected her to act a bit more sensibly.

"Oh, that is right. Burn everything to the ground," Roen retorted bitterly in response to his claim of having a plan. "I had forgotten."

The smuggler's eyes rolled nearly right out of his head. Now she was being childish. "Just because I am being petty and nitpicking your ideas doesn't mean you should do the same," he responded with a slight edge of reprimand. "Do you not believe yourself to be better than that?"

Nero shrugged. "No plan is flawless, of course, but I will adapt and make changes as the circumstances require."

Roen glanced to the skies with a look of exasperation. She seemed at a loss for words at the moment. A small part of Nero secretly celebrated. It was always a triumphant feeling to have the upper hand in a conversation. "You chide me for..." The paladin shook her head, apparently dismissing whatever rebuttal she had planned. "I know Taeros better than you do. I know his contacts in the Blades, his employers, even those he knows in the Flames. Once I figure out his sphere of influence, I can start tracking--" she stopped. "We are no longer working together. I need not justify myself to you."

Nero shook his head in a gesture of knowing disappointment. "You are treating the symptoms, not the cause. Taeros and his ilk are weeds that have drained the earth. It is not enough to pull them out by the roots: you must start with new soil." The smuggler cocked an eye at her curiously. "I could always have someone poison him for you. I do so enjoy ironic deaths." Crofte had told him that Taeros wasn't involved in Roen's poisoning, but then Nero had no reason to believe a snake like him was innocent.

"His death would solve nothing," Roen insisted. "Another would take his place."

Nero snorted. "Amusing how you seem to think arresting him will have a more lasting effect than simply murdering the bastard," he said derisively.Â

Her eyes narrowed as she continued. "Do you not think that the people know of nobles like him? Of...the power that they wield? Many already think they own the Sultanate."

Nero raised an eyebrow. "You say that as if the people are wrong when they are, in fact, completely right," he commented idly. Evidently the paladin was deliberately ignoring his prods and jabs now, but that didn't stop him from tossing out quips like daggers.

"Just killing a man does nothing. It is simply bloodshed." Roen shook her head. "To publicly and legally condemn their actions...that carries far more weight. We are either too bound by our power, or we have sold ourselves out in your eyes."

Nero folded his arms, covering his mouth with his hand to cover the incredulous and mocking smile that had crossed it. "Publicly and legally condemn them? In Ul'dah? Do you even know what city you're dealing with here?" The smuggler stopped just short of throwing another jabbing barb at the paladin's frankly absurd naivete.

It took some seconds for Nero to hold back his laughter, but the grin remained as he moved his hand from his mouth. "Yes, publicly and legally condemn them. In Ul'dah. It's just like having a tea party on Dalamud, really. I suppose you could always take Taeros out to the stocks for him to be flogged." Nero put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if they would sell tickets. I'd buy one."

Roen shook her head. "I cannot seem to convince you of it otherwise. But know this. The people you fight know how to dodge the system. Or make it work for them. They will have the advantage over you in that."

Nero's eyes rolled again, and it was the smuggler's turn to glance to the sky and sigh in exasperation. It seems neither one of them had really been listening to the other this whole time. "Which is why I am circumventing the system entirely. Did I not tell you about this already?" The smirk returned to his face. "Fighting the system with the system--and losing basically every time, I might add--is something you lawful types do. That sort of method is far too good for me. I'm beneath it. I'll be down in the blood and dirt."

Roen shook her head. "You do not have to be beneath--"

The linkpearl in his right ear crackled as Garalt's voice came through. "We've taken the ship, and secured the ceruleum." Nero paused, pressing a finger to the linkpearl as he glanced away from the paladin, who paused in her statement. "Already?"Â

"The Forte has some hold space left for the rest," the gruff voice resounded. Nero gave a slight shake of his head.

"No, I said destroy the whole thing. We have what we want. Also, the East Aldenard Company has a captain out of Limsa....Bluegill or Bluetrill or some such. Does the Forte have enough for another strike?" His tone was crisp and business-like.

"Nay, we will need a restock. Mayhaps we strike him before he departs from port."

"That's fine. I'll check in later."

Nero gave a helpless shrug. "Sorry. Business calls and all that. You were saying?"

"How are you going to circumvent the system?" Roen prompted.

The smuggler shrugged again. "Isn't it obvious? Gil is king in Ul'dah. Make gil worthless, and the whole system collapses. You can't eat gil, after all. You can't build houses with it. You can't grow crops with it. When you get down to it," his tone had become rather matter-of-factly. "Gil is just a piece of metal. It's a currency, not a good. Get rid of its value, and the Monetarist's entire power base will implode."

Roen's face slowly creased into a frown. "Gil is power because it obtains..." she paused, her head tilting slightly. "...things. Do you mean to rob people of food? Crops? Supplies?"

Nero shrugged again. "No, I am going to make the Monetarists rob the people." Roen blinked in response.

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Nero rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, I mean...the Monetarists are already robbing the people. What I mean to say is that I am going to make them rob the people more. Enough to break the status quo." He coughed in embarrassment. "To be honest, saying that I'm going to make the Monetarists rob the people of Ul'dah is rather like saying I am going to make the sun shine, or that I'm going to make fish swim. But you get my meaning. Probably."

Roen stared at him, a look of confusion in her eyes. "You are setting them up," she guessed.

The smuggler shook his head. "No, I am making them set themselves up. I am merely setting the stage and letting things run its course. There's no script to follow, no ballad, no routine. When the situation becomes desperate enough, they'll react how they always react--throwing other people's gil at the problem until it goes away--and that will be their undoing."

The paladin's eyes flitted about. "Why would they even...how do you know they will go that far?"

Nero folded his arms, a knowing twinkle in his eye. He was clearly enjoying explaining himself, parading his "wisdom" in front of the naive paladin. "Because, dear Roen, the thing a man with power fears the most is losing that power. And fear is a very potent substance that can drive even the calmest of men into irrational decisions."

"The reason why they have never forced the hand of the people or of Raubanh's Flames is because no one has ever gone far enough to make them push." He spread his arms grandly, like a magician opening an act. "And that's where I come in."

Roen blinked, narrowing her eyes. "What are you going to do...?"

"Kill many people, and destroy many things," Nero stated matter-of-factly. "As many as I have to. The innocents will be caught in the crossfire, which is regrettable, but in the long run this will have very good benefits. Given time, they can rebuild."

Roen · **09-05-2014, 11:42 PM**

He could not mean them.

This is his unrelenting ambition talking.

Roen told herself these things, even as his promise of violence and the death of innocents hammered into her head like a metal spike chipping away at a stone statue. She felt as if he was relentlessly, purposefully, trying to cause her to crack and crumble, shattering her principals until there was nothing left but rubble and dust.

Neroâ€™s ice-blue gaze seemed to bore into her as he continued. "The reason, Roen, the reason that I cut off our alliance is not because I found your idealism annoying. It was because I did not want to see it broken by following me down this path. Our conversation over that meal made me certain. You are stuck in the twilight, yes, but you have the good judgment not to leap headfirst into the darkness. I am glad that such people like you still exist."

Roen flicked her gaze at him, surprised.

"Your experiences have brought you to the edge but they have not pushed you off. Disassociate yourself with me. Pursue the path you feel is best. And if the time comes where we cross blades as enemies...well. I pray your sense of justice is still intact when that day comes."

So bent is he on this course, so ingrained is he in who he believes he should be, he has already accepted his fate. He has accepted that he is already lost. Roen frowned, but said nothing.

"You will never betray your virtues or your principles. And I admire that." The smuggler still smiled; it was smug, perhaps, but earnest. "Keep it close. Guard it well. In this world of blood and shadows, that virtue may be the only thing left worth defending."

Roen shook her head. "Is there no room for maneuver in this plan of yours? Must it be so rigid in the deaths that it demands?"

Nero nodded. "It must be. It must be swift, without remorse, without concern for welfare."

Roen narrowed her eyes. "And do you expect me to just sit idly by and watch innocents get caught in the crossfire? Is it not the very welfare of those you wish to save that drives you so? And now you are just pushing that aside?"

â€œIndeed I am. I wanted to--I still want to--hold on to it. But there is no place for compassion, not where I am going. There is no place for humanity. As of right now, I am the same thing I seek to destroy." His jaw set, he regarded her with squinted eyes, before drawing his sword that hung from his hip and jabbing it into the dock between them.

"I am going to kill many, many people. There will be many innocents dead. Many more will starve and suffer. I will be responsible for countless deaths. The people will revile me, as they should, as the one who ruined their lives." His gaze didn't waver. "Blood and war will fill the streets. And if you want to prevent all of that from happeningâ€¦if you want to save Ul'dah. Take that blade," he made a thrusting motion to himself. "And eliminate me now."

Roen stiffened, her eyes darting between the man and the blade. He had pleaded with her the same two suns ago when he offered her his knife. She had refused it then.

Nero continued to hammer at her. "I am a threat. I will tear down everything you hold dear about that wretched hive of a city. I will demolish it to the ground. The bones of the people will be ground beneath the rubble. It's within your power to stop all of this now, because I will not turn away from my path. Not ever."

Her breaths were coming heavy, she felt a viselike grip of dread around her chest. She glanced to the sword again, its hilt just ilms away from her hand. She did not take it. "And why...why are you offering me this chance?"

"Because I am helping you choose, Roen Deneith. Even now, the pirates under my command attack innocent merchant ships, those unfortunate enough to work for the Monetarists. People simply trying to feed their families. They are being sunk and sent to the bottom of the ocean."

Roenâ€™s eyes shot back to the pirate, widening with horror.

"Even now, bandits plan to take to the streets, for they have tired of living in the squalor of Pearl Lane. They will clash with the Brass Blades in open warfare." Nero continued, his voice sharp and cutting. "Even now, the other city states begin to contemplate cutting off trade, waiting for the 'Ul'dah Situation' to resolve itself before endangering their citizens. The Jewel will be locked into a whirlpool of blood and death." He leveled his gaze with hers, holding it intently. "But it need not be so. The head of the monster is here. None know of my plans other than myself."

Roen stepped around the sword, her own eyes searching his, for some measure of truth. "Stop this. It is not too late. Stop this. I beg of you." Her voice shook. "You are offering me this chance, because somewhere under there, there is a part of you that does not want to carry out this plan. There is a part of you that do not want to see innocents die. Families suffer. Fathers drowned."

Nero slowly shook his head. "No, I do not want to carry out this plan. I never wanted any of this."

He smiled softly, without regret, without a sense of forlornness. "But I will not stop. Take up the blade. If you care about Ul'dah as you claim, then prevent these ravages from happening. Do not do what is lawful, not what is justice, but what is right."

The paladin stared hard at him, her breaths now coming quick. She glanced to the blade again.

"What will you do when there is an evil you cannot defeat by just means? What will you do when there is an evil that will not negotiate, that will not hesitate, that cannot be persuaded or convinced? Shall you commit evil to destroy the greater evil? Or will you remain steadfast and righteous...even if that means surrendering to evil?"

Roen stared down at the blade, her brow furrowing with deep dread. She close her fingers to quell the trembling there.

â€œ...What if I prove you wrong?â€

The paladin curled her hand around the hilt of the sword and yanked it free from the wood. Her swing was quick as she brought the edge of the blade next to his neck. "If you are planning violence and bloodshed, and drowning innocent men...I cannot let you walk." Her voice was that of forced calm. "But your death is not for me to deliver."

Her next words pained her, but it did not falter. "You are under arrest, Mister Lazarov. For piracy against innocent merchants. For conspiracy of violence against the City-State." She stepped back, out of arm's length, the sword's reach lengthening.

Nero did not flinch. "And if I resist arrest?"

Roen turned her wrist just slightly, the blade catching the fading light of the sunset. "I pray you will not." She said quietly. Her muscles coiled, her eyes watching him carefully.

The smuggler only grinned. He pressed the flat of the blade with a finger, slowly moving the edge towards his neck. "Under whose authority do you arrest me, Miss Deneith? You are not a Blade. You are not a Sultansworn. This is an act of vigilantism. You are above the law, are you? You are above the justice of the system?"

Roen inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. She held her sword steady. "I am a Free Paladin, trained and authorized by the Captain Jenlyns Straightblade. I am going to to bring you in, the Flames can question you."

Neroâ€™s grin did not waver. His left arm made a quick motion--not for the sword, but underneath his tabard. A knife was flicked out, but it was not pointed towards the paladin. It was aimed directly at his neck. Steel met flesh met steel again, as he sandwiched his own neck between two blades. "And if I am not in a state to be questioned?" His tone clearly signalled his intent. "Hard to talk with a severed jugular, after all."

"Why are you doing this." Roen rasped, instinctively pulling her sword away from the edge of his neck. "What do you want?â€

The pirate continued to hold the dagger against his neck. "I have discarded the notion that I can pursue a fulfilling life. All I want now...is a meaningful death. And the redemption of Ul'dah is plenty meaningful enough for me. I am not Ul'dah's saviour. I am not its messiah. I am simply another victim, one of thousands." There was a twinkle in his eye, but it was not a mask. It was a dare, a challenge, and an acceptance.

Roen stared at him in disbelief. She lowered her sword, outrage filling her chest. So determined was he in this path. So willing to throw away his life and the life of countless people for a chanceâ€¦a fleeting chance of a future he would leave others to rebuild. He would immolate himself in the process of trying to raze Ulâ€™dah to the ground, and was asking her to wield the executionerâ€™s scythe in delivering his end. It was not enough that he confessed to her his dark brutal intent, but he would leave it to her to end his life. It angered her--this indifference to his own life and everyone elseâ€™s.

"You are no martyr.â€ She said bitterly. â€œYou are just another misguided thug who knew nothing else but to lash out the only way he knew how. You can end your own life, but do not think Ul'dah will be better for it. And do not expect me to stand here and watch you bleed yourself out, thinking you redeemed yourself with your sacrifice." Her words were filled with fury and indignation.

Roen lowered her sword, stepping forward, searching his eyes. She would plead, this one last time. "It takes more courage to put out the fire and save who you can, than to set things ablaze, yourself included. Do not do this. Please.â€

Nero responded to her advance with one of his own. "It is not about courage. It is about results." He brought his face within a few ilms of hers.

"Countless deaths are not results to judge yourself by! Nor the fear you bring upon your enemies!"

The smugglerâ€™s eyes darted between hers, as if to search for something. "Then what would you suggest? Let us say I put my plans on hold. Let us say I will adhere to your bloodless path of justice.â€ The smirk returned to his face.

â€œPersuade me to stay the course."

***Nero*** · **09-06-2014, 12:54 AM**

He slipped the knife away into its hidden sheath beneath his tabard. This wasn't unexpected. If Roen had actually possessed the courage to run him through, then that would have been that. It would have been unfortunate for him, but Nero might have accepted it. He might have accepted that someone in her position--someone in the twilight, who could see both the day and the night--would have the power to change things. But her virtue would not be so easily broken. The smuggler had claimed that he did not want to see her idealism broken--and that was partially true--but if Roen truly shared his goal, sooner or later she would have to come around to his way of thinking. It would not be a pleasant transition, but the sooner it happened, the more she would benefit from it.

What was the purpose of all of this? The question he asked himself echoed in his mind. Nero felt that he had to push her. He had to force her to choose, and with this refusal to kill him--indeed, with her attempt to arrest him, with no evidence, no witnesses, nothing that would hold up in Ul'dah's shallow excuse for a justice system--she had chosen. Roen would never willingly walk the same path that Nero did. Despite his insistence that there are some enemies virtue cannot win against, she was determined beyond reason to walk her righteous path.

And yet, what was this feeling of bitterness, of regret? He felt that he had failed. He felt that in some way, failing to push her over the edge was...a misstep. Sooner or later, she will see, came the forlorn thought in his head. In failing to break her idealism early, Nero felt, perhaps egotistically, that he had damned Roen to an immeasurable despair.

Let her have her delusions, then. Let her believe that she could "turn" him from this path. Nero would tell himself that he had done everything he could--as was usual--and that would be that.

The paladin averted her gaze, her brows drawn in thought. "Taeros was going to be my lead. Just the first. He has a large sphere of influence and many contacts. If I can make him turn somehow..." Roen glanced at him. "If he can be convinced to...work for our cause, for his own sake, rather than against us..." she trailed off.

"I already have grounds to put a few Brass Blades under his influence under arrest," the paladin shifted the topic. "It is a slow start...but Broken Nose and I...we were speaking of some kind of reform. From within."

A reform from within the Brass Blades. Ordinarily, Nero would have thought of that was the least amusing joke Roen's ever told, but considering his plans called for something similar, he kept silent.

"This...we need not bring about a bloodbath on the streets, Nero." Roen's voice lowered. A quiet plea to his humanity. "We need not tell the girl in your story that her father has been drowned. We need not tell her that she was going to be caught in a crossfire between Blades and bandits."

Nero clicked his tongue. Her plan wasn't terrible, but it was sorely lacking in the bigger picture. Perhaps it was arrogant to think that she would never succeed without him...but that he could carry out his plans without her. The smuggler recalled her question. What did he expect from her? Why had he agreed to an alliance with her in the first place? Did he truly need someone on the side of the law to aid him? What was preventing him from simply circumventing or dodging the law as he had usually always done?

On a practical level, Nero didn't need her. She had her occasional uses--the list he had jammed in his belt was proof of that--but Roen had naught else to offer him, and yet here he was proposing--even hypothetically--that they join forces again.

Was it merely attraction? That was a possibility, however doubtful. The paladin had a fair, unblemished face. Any noble would be intrigued by her presence in their court. The smuggler briefly tilted his head, trying to imagine Roen wearing a ponytail, an endeavour that was difficult given her fairly close cut. Yet, Nero knew himself well enough to know that he was (probably) not that shallow. There had to be another reason. Roen had no significant coin to speak of. She was not willing to break her virtue. Her conjury might be useful in a pinch, but as a resource she did not hold much value. Not economically, not tactically, and not strategically.

So then...?

Nero clicked his tongue, bringing his attention back to the conversation and shelving away those thoughts from his mind. "Ever the warrior for justice," the smuggler commented. "I am doubtful of your plan, but I will not rule it out completely." He ruled it out completely. Taeros might have his contacts but it didn't change the fact that the noble was just a lapdog to his betters. The Monetarists were like a hydra; simply cutting off one head wouldn't do. To destroy his enemies, he would have to collapse their power base. Ordinarily the smuggler would have pointed these facts out, but Nero was surprisingly no longer interested in prolonging the argument.

"As for my plans...they can be put on hold." Easy to do when one was simply lying about them to begin with. "But like I said..." Nero placed his left hand under her chin, tilting her face up to look directly at him. "Persuade me."

Roen looked him square in the eyes, relief clearly washing over her features. She blinked.

"What reason do I have to stay the course? I can simply take to the sidelines and watch. If you are so confident in yourself, I no longer have a reason to participate. So persuade me." Nero's tone had a daring edge to it.

She blinked thrice more.

"You believe your plans will work out that smoothly. That you can condemn Taeros and his associates within the confines of the system. You believe Broken Nose will be able to reform the Blades from within. As of now, I have no reason to be here in Thanalan. Persuade me," he challenged her again.

Roen inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing. "I do not need to persuade you. The fact that you are listening, that you know there is a possibility that it can work is enough. Which means you do not have to do what you do not want to do." Her voice became firm. "You want that chance. You want that hope. I know it." The certainty was clear in her affirmation.

Did he? He wasn't sure anymore. When they had first met, Nero had made the claim that he would not begrudge it if justice prevailed in the end, but now he was not so sure. Daegsatz was still in the gaol. Nero himself had sacrificed so much, far more than he would ever tell anyone about, for this. To simply let it be, to abandon those plans, those arrangements...would he be able to do that?

The smuggler felt his advantage in the conversation begin to slip, and that was something he never liked. Instinctively he went to his backup plan.

Nero caressed the paladin's face with his hand. "Miss Deneith, have you ever considered the possibility that it is not hope I desire, but you?" His tone was audacious yet sultry, as if he were attempting to seduce a dragon.

He saw the heat rise in her cheeks and her throat contract in a swallow. Her unpreparedness was obvious in her stiffened stance and wide eyes. "Mister...Lazarov..I.." she stammered. "I do not think you do. I think you are trying to catch me off guard." She lifted her chin defiantly, though she did not pull away from his hand. "You do that...quite well, I am afraid. But I see what you are doing."

"Yet, even when I told you I would not be convinced, I am still here, conversing with you. I'd be long gone if it were anyone else." Nero smirked. "Perhaps I am easier to persuade than you think. The reason you sought me out...is because you don't believe anyone else believes as you do, is that not right?" Nero switched hands, dropping his right only to place his left on the side of her face.

"And the reason I am entertaining this idea is because...I would not do this alone, if I could help it. Change Ul'dah."

Did he really believe in her methods? This tactic was just that: a tactic. It was a way to shift the paladin off balance. Yet now he was claiming to court her--her ideas, to be precise. His plan was flexible to a degree, but did not have room for many allowances.

Roen searched his eyes, seeming conflicted. Her breaths became more shallow but she did not flinch. "No," she replied quietly. "You need not...do this alone. Like...like I said, it is difficult to walk..by yourself."

Nero's gaze softened, the edge in his tone growing more gentle. "And you, Miss Deneith...have you been walking by yourself all this time?"

The paladin blinked, averting her gaze to the wooden planks, a frown creasing her face. She nodded, barely, before turning her attention back to him, narrowing her eyes. "But that is neither here nor there. I have been perfectly fine and capable of...of taking care of myself. Doing what I needed to do."

Nero raised an eyebrow. "I am not suggesting that you are incapable, Roen." It felt odd, using her first name so suddenly. He removed his hand off her face but brought his own face closer. "But..that does not mean you need to be alone in this...nor I."

"That was...what I meant was..." she stammered in response, unable to find the words.

"Persuade me," was all Nero said. His face was now close enough that he could feel her breath, and presumably she could feel his.

Roen exhaled, looking distraught. "Are you just...toying with me, Mister Lazarov...? Because...that is no way to build trust or..."Â

Her discomfort grew apparent enough that Nero merely grinned, and pulled away from her face. "You are right. If I want your trust...then perhaps I shall explain my plan to you. Rest assured that it is not nearly as grim and bloody as I made it out to be."Â

What exactly was his intention in that little episode? He had been toying with her...to an extent, but Nero recognised a part of him that had wanted to push further. The reasonable side of him had pulled back his flirtations, but the fact that some fragment of his mind was even considering something like that was...disconcerting.

The paladin frowned as he pulled away, pressing her lips tightly together. "Fine," she said, her tone flat. "I am glad to hear it." A passing glance was sent towards some nearby barrels as Roen averted her gaze.

Now Nero wondered about her. Where exactly did he stand with her? It was evident that Roen was not used to receiving affection, even if it was facetious, but from her reaction, the smuggler would have called her disappointed. Was he merely projecting? His own emotions were under control, but confused.

He folded his arms, glancing past Roen's head. "Well, as I said, my plan was to hit the Monetarists directly in their power base. Their influence is centralised around the value of gil." There were some awkward pauses between his words, as if he struggled to recall them. "To make a long story short, I was going to strangle Ul'dah through its dependency in imports."

He began to choose his words carefully; explain the goals, not the methods. Explain the effects, but not the cause.Â

Nero's tone became business-like. "Thanalan does not grow a sustainable number of crops or have land for enough ranching animals to feed its population. Much of Ul'dah's essentials come from other city states. I was not planning to starve out the city, per se...but I would force the Monetarists to focus their funds elsewhere. The pirates will choke Ul'dah's sea trade and allow certain companies from Limsa Lominsa to muscle into Thanalan. In addition, I have some plans to force some..pressure onto the luxury goods. Force the nobles to draw so much of their fortune onto themselves and their wealth, enough to take out the knees of their companies, so to speak. Subsequently, conditions will deteriorate to the point where the public will rally against them."

"Thus, the Monetarists will be stuck between a rock and a hard place. The people will demand reform due to shortages and the economic imbalance, and the Monetarists will not be able to buy their way out of the situation if their gil does not reach any of the prospective clients. If it does, the prices given--the prices we give--will be exorbitant enough to drain them dry."

"That would allow myself and my compatriots in turn to arrive under the auspices of the Sultana. We will resupply the city. Discredit the Monetarists, and place the people in firm support of Nanamo ul Namo. Demonstrate that it was not the Monetarist's coin that saved the city, but the Sultana's sovereignty." He noted the paladin's absentminded nod.

Nero waved his hands idly. "We will spout some meaningless nonsense about how the Sultana paid us not with coin but pleaded on behalf of the people, blah blah. She is not the strongest politician, but she will make an excellent figurehead. With the Monetarists sufficiently weakened, Raubahn and the Sultana will have ample grounds to depose the Syndicate, for they will no longer be dependent on the Syndicate's gil. Ul'dah's economy will suffer, undoubtedly, but with time, it can be rebuilt. With time, connections, and many, many favours, Ul'dah can be rebuilt."

The smuggler frowned. "It will not be a peaceful transition. The Sworns will have to take command in the city. This is where your friend Broken Nose comes in. With the Brass Blades no longer having the Syndicate's backing, their authority will crumble. It is my hope that Broken Nose will begin to reform, while the Sworns and the Flames keep order in the city. Once the Blades have been re-organized--hopefully under your friend's authority--then they can be employed as a proper peacekeeping force."

"There will be violence. The bandit gangs are used to dirty gil flowing into their pockets. They will resist...and will need to be taken care of." Nero flexed his fist in the air. "But with the Sworns and the Flames and certain other..cooperative elements, that will be the easiest part. Any damage Ul'dah suffers will serve our cause."

Nero now placed a hand at his hip, the other dangling at his side. "Using funds appropriated from the Monetarist, the Sultana--with some financial advice--can begin to employ the refugees in public works projects and reconstruction. This will grant some reprieve to the people and stabilise the crime rate as these poor souls finally have a source of income. In addition, such funds can be used for things like education. Deposing all of the Monetarist's cronies necessitates having replacements--accountants, merchants, foremen, Brass Blades, and so on. From there, we can say that Ul'dah has a reasonably brighter future."

"There are many details I have left out, but that is a brief scope of the plan," he concluded.

Nowhere did he mention his intentions for Scythe or the Lominsan weapons, but hopefully this would appease her for now.

Roen · **09-06-2014, 01:08 PM**

The relief that Roen found in his explanation was profound, in more ways than one.

The fact that Nero had thought of so many possibilities, the consequences that would follow, and the expansive scope of his plan...it astounded her. But even more so, the fact that he did try to avoid unnecessary deaths and the killing of innocents, it allowed her to breath again; it granted her some respite from the grim and despondent future that he was painting before.

Listening to him, also made her focus on something else other than the daring and flirtatious words he had thrown at her before; they were there to fluster her, of this she was certain. She should have been better prepared for it. But much to her chagrin, Roen found herself stammering, agitated, and grasping for words. His breath was warm on her lips, his voice smooth like honey, and his touch against her cheek made the skin burn crimson. The smuggler knew how to use his roguish ways to set a womanâ€™s heart aflutter, and Roen hated the fact that she too was so easily affected by it as well. And she was annoyed with herself that she actually felt a pang of disappointment when he withdrew.

Curse that pirate, Roen thought darkly. But really she was silently chiding herself for anticipating something more in the first place. And that was not a road she should be traveling on--or sparing a glance toward--or even pondering, for that matter!

â€œItâ€¦will not be a peaceful transition. But it is the smoothest one with the highest chance of succeeding." Neroâ€™s voice filtered into her consciousness again, and it made the paladin blink. She looked at him, reminding herself to focus on the plan.

He did not seem to notice her distracted mien. "Trust me when I say that I have calculated as many factors as possible. I have accounted every variable. Sacrifices will have to be made...but if this works, then they will be minimal."

"That is well thought out.â€ Roen nodded quickly, bending her brows with forced concentration. â€œComplex, difficult, so many things have to go right but..." Roen nodded, encouraged. "I can see how it can work."

Nero nodded confidently. "It will take time. And rebuilding will be rocky. But so long as the Monetarists' power is broken, it can definitely work."

Roen exhaled and shook her head, almost in disbelief. "If it works...it would change everything."

"But there are risks," Nero warned. "Some more enterprising people among Limsa Lominsa will seek to expand. And if the Flames are not adequate to quell the cityâ€¦the Maelstrom may become involved. The politics are volatile. I hope it will not come to that, but we must prepare for every eventuality." The smugglerâ€™s pondered, his expression turning intent. "Ul'dah may, without the Monetarists, be forced into client state status. We risk its independence for this plan.â€

Nero turned to her, new fire lit in his eyes. â€œBut politics be damned. So long as the people are provided for in the end, with a new system, then that will be enough."

Roen found herself straightening, "Ul'dah still has the largest military force on land. I do not think we would need to look to Maelstorm or anyone else to restore order."

"That's not what I meant.â€ The smuggler shook his head. â€œIf the Flames grow out of controlâ€¦if Raubahn cannot seize the reins, then the Storm will step in. I meant every contingency. And that includes the ability of the Sultana and Raubahn to lead. If they fail, Ul'dah loses its sovereignty. Not the worst thing to happen, but...it will cause much chaos."

Nero gave her an odd, rather ironic look. "As much as I hate those bastards, the Monetarists keep the other city-states in check with their economic power. Gridania cares for naught but their forests, but Limsa Lominsa is another story."

"I trust that Nanamo and Raubaun will know how to take the lead. The Monetarists's power comes from gil, that is why the Sultana deals with them as she does. The Brass Blades are but a fraction of the manpower of Ul'dah." Roen reflected out loud, then paused. She gave Nero an odd look. â€œSo all that you spoke of before..." Her eyes narrowed. "That grim tale of blood and violence. That was to test me?"

The smuggler folded his arms, raising a thoughtful eyebrow. "Yes and no. There will be blood and violence. The bandits will not back down easily; many of them are on the Monetarist's payroll as well. They would hate to see their corrupt income vanish." He shrugged, his expression turning somewhat sheepish. "I didâ€¦exaggerate some parts of it, to push you. You needed the push. You, not I, needed to know where the line was drawn. You truly will not kill, even knowing how it would save people's lives." The smuggler shook his head. "I still find thatâ€¦foolish."

And then softer, "But hopeful as well."

His ice-blue gaze turned to her, looking at her intently. "You and I will become a sword and shield. I will slay those who encroach upon us. You shall defend justice and the innocent. An apt analogy, no?" Nero held out his hand.

A slow smile broke through her wary countenance, lofted by relief and the promise of hope. Roen knew a part of her should be angry that he had tested her so. But she did not care. She did not have to run him through with a sword. She did not have to think him an enemy of Ul'dah. She did not have to stop him.

Roen took his hand firmly. "It is."

In that momentâ€™s stillness when their hands met, Roen felt no uneasiness between them. Her eyes lingered on him as did her grasp. â€œDid you ever consider, that I did not use my sword upon you because...of who you were? That had you been some...bandit leader, boasting of his plan and waving a blade of his own, the results would have been different. But it was you."

Nero cocked his head, seemingly both amused and curious at once. "And who am I, Roen Deneith? Who am I to you? You know nothing about me. Not that that is your fault," He quickly corrected himself, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head with his other hand. "I have beenâ€¦evasive. To a fault. But still."

Roen smiled just a little at that confession. She let her hold on his hand linger a moment longer, her eyes drifting to their joined grip."I know what you will say. That I am seeing what I want to see. But I do not believe you are the man you want to become. This dark avenging evil incarnate that you sometimes seem so determined to be."

She lightly laid her other hand on top of his, embracing it with her own. "I believe you are the man you hope to be," she said, her voice low. "I know not much more than that, but...it is enough. For now." She peered back up at him, even as her hands fell away.

Nero searched her eyes with a puzzled expression on his face. "Why is it that you seem to care so much?" His voice wavered for just a fraction, and Roen thought his mask of composure flickered away for just an instant. "No oneâ€¦unless they wanted something from me. Unless I had something to give in return. What must I give in return for your compassion?"

Roen regarded him for a long moment, a gentle smile emerging. "Only that you continue to hope to be a better man." She shrugged. "I wish for nothing else from you."

"Thereâ€¦has to be more than that." The smuggler was hesitant to accept her answer. "It cannot be as simple as all that. Surely you want something in return."

â€œActually,â€ Roen canted her head. An odd expression came over her. â€œThere is one thing.â€

His eyes flickered to attention, though she thought she saw a hint of disappointment. "And that is?"

Roen stepped once toward him, and lightly knocked on his chest with a fist. â€œStop. Testing me.â€ Her voice was firm, but it held a playful challenge. She looked to him with a small furrow of her brows. â€œTrying to get me flustered. Or challenge who I am. I think you know enough now. What I am willing and not willing to do."

Her words seemed to stun him before his face broke out into a smile. "If that is what you wish, Miss Deneithâ€¦I'm afraid I will have to refuse just this once. Forgive me."

In one swift motion, Nero moved his head towards her as he took her arm and pulled her body towards him. Without hesitation or warning, his lips met hers for several long seconds before he moved away. When he did, a small, satisfied grin marked his face.

She could only stare, mouth agape.

That seemed to amuse him even more; his next words came jovially. "We have only known each other for some sunsâ€¦but I will accept your challenge.â€ He smiled oddly earnestly. His eyes were narrowed on her, but not in their usual way. He finally said, â€œI will. I will tryâ€¦to be better."

Roen barely heard those words. She stood there stunned. The kiss wasâ€¦over before she knew it even begun, but she did not recall pulling back. Or if she had even breathed. She stood there, dumbfounded, at an utter loss for words. Her cheeks were crimson and her eyes unfocused. She blinked several times before she looked back at him again.

"I...um." The paladin started then stopped. Her tongue felt leaden. Her thoughts moved as if they were caught in a mire. â€œRight. You. You...you do that." She cleared her throat, holding up a finger and gesturing his way vaguely. She felt like an actor on stage with no lines given to her--completely lost. Roen thumbed to no place in particular behind her. "I should um. Go."

His eyebrow arched. "Should you?"

She couldn't even reply to that.

Neroâ€™s expression shifted as he studied her reaction. It was apparently not precisely what he had expected. He nodded quickly and glanced at the empty sea behind him. "Right. And I...well, anyway..." He turned away from her and pressed a hand against his right ear. "Garalt. Status, please. Now."

As soon as his back turned to her, Roen let out a stuttered breath. She no longer felt like a paladin who swore the Sultanaâ€™s Oath; she was no longer the gladiator who trained in the Blood Sands. No, Roen felt like a flustered young schoolgirl caught unawares by a boy, with no idea what to do.

She hated it. So she hastily made her retreat.

"Yes. There are things to do, get done." She spun on a heel, calling over her shoulder. "And you have things to done. To...do. And get...done..." Roen's words and feet seemed to be somehow stumbling over each other. She hurried off the pier, her strides long and quick.

It was only when she reached the top of the walkway, and her feet crossed from wooden planks onto the Western Thalanan sands, that she paused. She did not turn back to look where she had left Nero; her cheeks were still burning too hot for her to dare a peek.

She felt foolish, confused, and humiliated, and for a change it was not because of something he had done or said.

It was her. She had practically ran away from him after a kiss. Roen rubbed her eyes with a frown.

It was too late now. She ducked her head low and walked away quickly, to what destination she knew not.

***Nero*** · **09-06-2014, 02:37 PM**

"Several bells to port," came the gruff response over the linkpearl. "Everything alright, Captain?"

No, everything was not alright. Well, in a manner of speaking, it was. Or was it not? Nero didn't know anymore. The dock creaked as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He hadn't even noticed that Roen had run off while still in possession of his sword, so distracted was the smuggler. The chainmail beneath his tabard rustled as he forced himself to sit down cross-legged in an attempt to calm his nerves.

The memory of her soft lips meeting his still lingered uncomfortably in his mind. There was a purpose to that, yes...but the rash action seemed to backfire. The kiss was meant to confuse her, and it seemed to have succeeded, but so too did it put Nero at odd with his own emotions.

He considered himself the definition of a manipulative bastard. He'd easily done something like this before; Vail, in his infinite wisdom, had imparted the importance of being able to make an enemy a friend, or to at least confuse them enough that they would not interfere. Flirtations and seduction were hardly beneath him. Yet, why did this particular instance seem to instill such wary anxiety in him?

It was his initial intention to have invoked the possibility of an emotional attachment in Roen. The exasperating woman, naive as she was, had accepted his plan without questioning. When the bloodier stages of his scheming came to fruition, she would likely be shocked or feel lied to or some other irritating notion. Romantic affections were more trouble than they were typically worth, but Nero didn't feel that he was above using them to his advantage.

"Did you ever consider, that I did not use my sword upon you because...of who you were?"

Nero shook his head. He knew her well enough at this point to know that she was serious...or a very, very good liar. To the smuggler's cynical mind, she was an anomaly. The pure-hearted souls of goodness typically considered him a necessary evil, a role he was more than happy to fill. Yet here was this enigma of a paladin who desired nothing from him--no favours, no payment, no self-interest--but for him to...be better. There was nothing but infuriating, aggravating selflessness from her.

Or was that it? Suspicion flared around the edges of Nero's mind. It was possible...unlikely, but still possible that this was her way of using him. Had he been beaten at his own game? The very best liars were those who had managed to convince others that they could not lie. Was this Roen's way of turning him to her purposes? Was he simply overestimating her?

The questions opened the way for more questions. Why did he care in the first place? Supposed he found out that Roen was dead tomorrow. Nero searched his mind for what his reaction would be. Pity, perhaps. Some manner of sorrow, absolutely. Would he grieve? They had only known each other for a few suns, and those suns had been fraught with disagreements, arguments, heated clashes in ideology. What was she? What was Roen Deneith to him?

Nero took a moment to place the linkpearl in a pocket before leaning over the edge of the dock and dunking his burning face into the cool seawater. He hadn't even noticed the growing ruddiness in his cheeks, and Llymlaen's bounty was a welcome to relief. Pulling his head out of the water, he shook like a dog, the fiery orange forelocks dripping with moisture. "A means to an end," he muttered beneath his breath. The very last thing the smuggler would do is let his emotions get in the way. Whatever he felt didn't matter. If it interfered, he would have to quell them by any means.

He placed the linkpearl back in his ear, using the collar of his tabard to dry his face. "Everything's fine, Garalt. How is the Forte?"

"Minor damage, nothing that a bell of repairs can't fix."

"Store the cargo in the usual location, and tell Arturieaux as soon as possible." Nero sighed, wiping the seawater from his neck and face as best as he could. A long silence from the other end of the linkpearl preceded a suspicious question.

"Who was that woman, Captain?"

"No one you need to worry about. She's going to help me free Satz," Nero said evasively. Garalt's silence was all the smuggler needed to know about his opinion as he stood up. With the Second Forte out at sea, returning to Limsa Lominsa at this juncture wasn't an option for at least a few suns. Commanding the ship would have been a wonderful distraction, but he sighed again as he began to make his way back to Ul'dah.

His plans may need some changes.

Roen · **09-06-2014, 08:17 PM**

I ran away.

Roen fell back onto the bed, the pillow and blankets bouncing with the landing. She covered her eyes with both hands, as if that would hide the grimace that twisted her face.

I practically sprinted out of there.

She wrinkled her nose, recalling her hasty retreat. She could not even clearly remember what words she mumbled as she did so, so eager was she for an escape.

Why had she run away like a frightened doe? What was it about a him that made her heart race, tossed her thoughts into a chaotic mess, and turned her will and focus into mush?

The paladin folded her hands above her head, letting her arms fall limp onto the blankets. She stared at the ceiling helplessly, as if the flighty shadows cast by the dancing candlelight would lend her an epiphany as to why she had been suddenly robbed of all strength and courage.

Her lips still tingled at the memory. Roen lightly traced them with a finger, letting out a long sigh.

"And who am I, Roen Deneith? Who am I to you? You know nothing about me.â€

His words echoed in her ears even now. Roen harbored no doubts then, as she took his hand and agreed to an alliance once more. She believed him to be a good man. She remembered the wash of relief that had filled her then--the fact that he was not set on some wonton destructive path, that she did not have to consider him an enemy. Was she simply relieved that he was considering a conscientious path rather than condemning himself? Or was there something more that stirred her then?

Roen glimpsed the goodness in him early on; it was what had brought on those moments of despair in the man, those fleeting moments he worked so hard to then bury. She could not deny she was drawn to that man. But she also had to acknowledge that that was not all who Nero Lazarov was. He had layers of masks made of bitterness, cunning ruthlessness, and arrogance. And it made him unpredictable, infuriating, and manipulative. His derisive words had found ways to cut through her resolve before, and now he found another way to throw her thoughts into a turmoil of confusion and uncertainty.

The question wasâ€¦what was genuine, and what was not?

The paladin turned to her side, her eyes going to the ornate longsword that stood against the table on the other side of the room. She had left the docks in such a hurry that she walked away with his sword in hand--the one that he had thrust into the wooden boards between them. She had no doubt that he was challenging her to end his life, that he was willing to die at her hands.

And yet that was another test.

I would be foolish to think that this kiss was anything other than yet more misdirection on his part, Roen told herself. But even as she struggled to accept that truth, she wondered why it affected her so. Why there was this distant melancholy that nipped at her thoughts. Did she want it to be something more?

Perhaps that was what she needed to resolve for herself. How she felt about him, regardless of how he felt. But even if she held some hidden feelings for him, what good would that do in light of the fact that he would likely then use that against her? A part of her hoped that he would not. And another part of her chided her own self in believing that that would be the case.

What did she expect of him?

"Only that you continue to hope to be a better man. I wish for nothing else from you." Her own words. She had meant every word of it.

Roen sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She rubbed her eyes, as if to clear her vision, fixing her gaze onto the sword again. Mind to purpose, Roen, she told herself. There was a greater cause to serve: changing Ulâ€™dah, lessening the suffering of the poor, and perhaps even saving Nero Lazarov from himself. Her own feelings on the matter had to be set aside.

â€œI will tryâ€¦to be better.â€ The smugglerâ€™s quiet words echoed in her memory. It stirred her even now.

The paladin groaned out loud at her own indecisiveness and shook her head quickly as if to dismiss the quagmire of emotions there. â€œMind to purpose,â€ she told herself again. Emotional impulses and romantic whims would only jeopardize this alliance between them that already had been tested in just the few suns since its inception.

I am certain we can work together without letting this complicate things. Roen reassured herself. I just need to be better prepared. She wrinkled her nose, wondering if that was possible.

I just need toâ€¦not think about it.

The paladin sat there, staring at the sword, while consciously trying to scrub the swirl of doubts and conflicting emotions into a blank slate.

Roen let out another loud groan and fell back onto her bed.

Roen · **09-12-2014, 07:17 PM**

Roen stared at the empty room.

Nothing remained. No boxes nor supplies, no bottle of rum, nothing that would hint that this used to be a safehouse. Everything had been cleared out. Even the windows were boarded up.

Did he leaveâ€¦?

It had been suns since sheâ€™d seen Nero last, since she ran away from him on the docks of Crescent Cove after he kissed her. Surely that had nothing to do with this, Roen told herself, dismissing the thought as soon as it rose. But thenâ€¦what?

Roen ran her finger over a dresser, and glanced at it. It had not been too long since this place was abandoned. Perhaps just a sun at most.

I should have looked for him sooner, came the unbidden thought. But she had been purposefully avoiding doing so, making excuses that they no longer had a private linkpearl, and the fact that she did not know what she would say to him even if she did find him. It was somewhat childish, she knew. But now that she had finally worked up the courage to clear the air...

He was nowhere to be found. This safehouse on Pearl Lane was the one place she knew she may be able to find him--or at the very least leave him a message. But all signs of habitation had disappeared from the place.

What if he ran into other troubles?

It was possible. Since his arrival into Ulâ€™dah, Nero had set up a prominent Monetarist noble to get arrested, and now was also responsible for the death of a Brass Blade, not to mention a veritable plethora of bandits. But after the talk with Sergeant Melkire a few suns ago, Roen thought that both she and Nero were in the clear of the Nanawa Mines investigation, at the very least. For that, she was relieved. In the midst trying to figure out the exact nature of her alliance with the smuggler, the paladin had woefully neglected to follow up on the Mines investigation.

"Dead Blade, dead bandits, brought low by someone dangerous. Skilled... and invested. Heavily. Emotionally. I know that y'must've gone up there for something, though I can't fathom what. I know you took your friend.... your thaumaturge friend... with you. I know you left with a wagon full o' somethin' or another, since y'went and humiliated two men t'do so."

By the time the Flame Sergeant spoke to her, he had already most of the facts. But he had approached her discreetly, and sought out a private corner at Scorpion Landing to exchange words. Roen had not been alarmed; she still remembered all he had done for her and Gharen, and because of it she trusted the man implicitly. But he gave her a stern warning when she tried to explain what had happened at the Mines.

"Witnesses, documents, physical presence....these things constitute proof. And right now, Roen? There's a bloody trail leadin' right back t'you, and the only reason no one but me's followed up on it is because the damned Blades are too lazy and too corrupt t'bother with anythin' but a cover-up."

The Sergeant was right. Roen knew she had left bodies behind, and two Brass Blades could put her at the scene. It would be yet another towering pile of evidence that Taeros could use against her if he found out.

"... don't hand him evidence he can use against you." Osric warned her.

The Sergent had been surprisingly accepting of her actions. He did not condone them, but he was not there to arrest her either. He even offered to help to avoid such an outcome the next time, should she but ask.

"Like a scalpel. Not like the dagger your friend is. Ask any chirurgeon which carries the greater risk, and which leaves behind a worse scar."

He understood her goal to try and reform the Blades, to try and bring change to Ulâ€™dah.

"Do you think me foolish? Do you think this can be done without needless bloodshed?" Roen had asked him in earnest. She needed to know that she was not the only one who thought this way.

"To be honest with you? No, I don't think so." Osric paused. â€œBut I hope so.â€

"It does not mean we cannot try." Even a sliver of optimism from the Flame still bolstered her own.

"No, it doesn't." He had answered her with a smile.

The Sergeant had promised to help her, if she asked, on the condition that he also met â€˜her friend.â€™ Roen had not given him Neroâ€™s name, but her mind had already been made up--that perhaps both she and Nero could use an ally like Osric Melkire. The Flame Sergeant was always known to do things unconventionally, and as far as she was concerned, his heart was always in the right place.

Now all she needed to do was to find Nero.

Roen ducked out of the safehouse, her eyes quickly scanning the area to make certain she was not spotted. She left Pearl Lane quickly enough, making her way back toward the gaols. Perhaps Daegsatz would know where she would be able to find his captain.

Now that she could not locate the smuggler, the paladin suddenly felt more urgency in needing to find the man, having forgotten why she had been avoiding him in the first place. It truly felt foolish now. Nero had promised to be better. They shook each otherâ€™s hand, for the second time, promising to be there to help each other in this impossible task.

She could not let her own uneasiness jeopardize that. Not when it seemed evident that they could be gathering allies to their cause.

Her stride lengthened as she entered the palace. She needed to find Nero and clear the air, so that they could truly start working together in earnest for Ulâ€™dah.

***Nero*** · **09-12-2014, 11:10 PM**

"Arturieaux sent confirmation of the shipment. However, the kobolds have begun growing more aggressive and encroaching further into Lominsan territory. He said he may have to move his laboratory," Garalt murmured. "He'd be moving to the other side of the island, just to be safe." The Highlander's statement was punctuated by him sweeping a thick finger across a map of Vylbrand.

Nero nodded. "That'd be best. Kobolds will draw the attention of the Maelstrom...we will need to give him time. Let's keep the Forte in Limsa for now." The smuggler fingered another map, a nautical chart. "Our man in the 4th Squadron said the patrols would sweep the northeast of the Rhotano." The Hyur snorted. "Merlwyb's fast, I'll give her that. Someone must be pressuring her to tighten security in the Strait, so naturally, we'll go ahead and give the 4th Squadron a distraction." A finger moved and tapped on elsewhere on the map. "There's a few raiders based out of the Cieldalaes. Let's have them be fodder."

The Highlander grunted, shaking his head. "I don't like this, Nero," Garalt said quietly. It was rare when the otherwise passive Highlander expressed an opinion; even rarer when he addressed Nero by anything other than "captain". "Sending other raiders as...distractions. The Forte can easily slip here, south through the Cieldalaes, to Thanalan. Even with the 4th Squadron."

"I don't want the Forte participating directly in runs for now. We lay low and give the hounds something to chew on," the smuggler said firmly. "We need to make repairs, get our bearings, and give Arturieaux some time. And I can guarantee you that Ul'dah won't sit still." Nero tapped an index finger against Limsa Lominsa. "They'll send agents after us, but Limsa's home territory...we can take care of them there, then we can get the Forte back into ops unmolested."

Garalt studied the Midlander's face, scrutinizing it with a hard gaze. "You intend to start an incident. Merlwyb won't suffer Ul'dahn interference in Limsa Lominsa."

"I intend to arrange it in such a way that we come out on top regardless of the outcome," Nero responded confidently, waving an idle hand. "Put the charts away. We'll reach port in a few bells."

The Second Forte bobbed gently as it cut through the waves. It wouldn't be long before it reached Limsa Lominsa; a gentle wind had brought the ship to a comfortable, if somewhat slow cruising speed. Nero sighed and rubbed the back of his forehead with a hand as he leaned against the railing on the stern of the ship. Watching the parting of waves pass behind the ship was calming to him, even as his mind was fraught with thoughts and introspection.

Roen was presumably still below decks. Nero couldn't help but roll his eyes at nobody in particular at her presence; as soon as the paladin had found out he'd cleaned himself out of Ul'dah, presumably she'd started looking for him for reasons the smuggler couldn't fathom. With impeccable timing, she'd manage to catch him before he left Vesper Bay, and the smuggler, being ever punctual, had insisted without thinking that she come aboard if she wanted to occupy his time with talks.

Natalie had made herself quite clear when she said she did not want Nero anywhere near Roen, to which Nero had responded that the latter would have to stay away from him first. Roen seemed to follow him like a lost puppy at times, and it was not as if the smuggler could simply beat her upside the head and abandon her...although the thought had crossed his mind during some of their more heated arguments.

His plan was moving, but slowly. Far slower than Nero liked. Ceruleum was beginning to become difficult for him to get his hands on, yet the smuggler had no presence anywhere near Bluefog. The pirate only had a smattering handful of agents in Ul'dah, and their allegiance was suspect at best. Nero did not mind conducting his operations from afar, but his plans in Ul'dah were delicate and he'd prefer to apply his direct intervention in them.

But that'd have to wait. Surely the Monetarists were going to send someone to Limsa. That Natalie woman was surely shrewd enough to have started looking for him; just because Nero had left Thanalan doesn't mean the raids against Monetarist ships would stop, not as long as there were pirates willing to accept the smuggler's coin.Â

Take care of one thing at a time. Nero inhaled, letting his breath out through his nose.

It was a strange thing, this series of events. The original plan had been simple: supply the refugees, and continue on his merry way. Lay under the Monetarist's radar and gradually build his influence. Instead, Nero had shared many exasperating arguments with Roen, who may or may not be infatuated with him, ended up killing a Brass Blade and a few bandits, and now had the attention of the Monetarists, the Sultansworn, and the Immortal Flames, and the only thing it would take to start a major political incident was just the slightest mishap, which was bound to happen with such a bellicose and volatile group all converging together.

True, Nero's intention had always been to bring Scythe into his fold first and feed the poor and beleaguered second...but it seemed now that going to the trouble of securing those supplies had lit a fuse.

Attempting to provide for the refugees left Nero in an awkward partnership with a paladin, and the Sultansworn chasing him out of Ul'dah. He was now running back to Limsa, and undoubtedly there were Monetarist agents that were going to pursue him. The list was now useless because he'd been run out of Thanalan, and if the situation deteriorated enough...Limsa Lominsa and Ul'dah would be in a very bad spot indeed, and the only one who did not believe him to be the villain in all of this was Roen. All because of those damned refugee supplies.

Nero could not help but smirk bitterly as he heard the sound of steps approaching him from behind.Â

No good deed goes unpunished.

« Next Oldest \| Next Newest »
Pages (5): « Previous 1 2 3 4 5

No Good Deedã€Completeã€‘

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

No Good Deedã€Completeã€‘