Nanawa Mines.
Roen peeked over the large outcropping of rocks to get the layout of the place, even though she knew the mines well enough to dread coming here. There were too many memories to count, and none were in her favor. As she took in the details of the area--the number of people, the location of the buildings, and potential guards that stood out from the throng of miners--she hoped that today the mine would yield her a better fortune than it had before. If she and Nero were successful in retrieving the confiscated goods for the refugees, she would consider the day a success.
The paladin counted three Brass Blades in uniform outside the largest building that lay at the foot of the Nanawa Mines. There were a few boxes and crates placed outside the building, piled up against the side wall. She was not sure what she was looking for exactly in terms of the confiscated goods--how many boxes she was looking for, or even if they were in crates at all.
She watched as she one of the Brass Blades ambled over to the mines, disappearing into the dark maw of the cave. His pace was slow and he cared not for the miners that trudged by, it was clear he was interested in something else, within the depths of the mines.
Roen studied the rest of the area one last time before she withdrew, thankful that there were no signs of a wagon approaching, which could mean a buyer for the goods.
Her trek to Black Brush Station was made on quick feet, and the paladin was thankful for the storm clouds looming above. It was still warm and the looming rain only made the air thick and muggy, but at least she did not burn with the sun’s unrelenting glare. It was rare that the Thalanan skies were ever littered with clouds, and if then, only a scant herd of them; this day offered an unusual overcast. Roen was not sure if that boded well or ill.
Silly thoughts, she reminded herself. She never used to consider superstitious beliefs before she came to Eorzea. But here, people invoked their gods for the mysteries and the unforeseeable things. Perhaps their beliefs were starting to rub off on her. Whatever it was that brought the cooler temperatures this day, and perhaps even threatened rain, Roen was thankful.
The paladin had still come dressed for the hurried expedition. She wore a sleeveless vest made of light linen, as well as cotton breeches with comfortable leather boots. She had stowed her armor along with her shield at Black Brush Station, but scouting about dressed in full armor would have made her more than conspicuous. She was not sure what to expect in reclaiming these goods. A fight? A conversation? Just how did the smuggler expect to get them back? Was she to provide her sword in the effort?
Roen had already told Nero she was not willing to run any Blades through. Corrupt or not, they were still part of the law enforcement of Ul’dah. "Good luck," Broken Nose said to her this morning as he gave her the copy of the list. He had a dark grin on his face, though she suspected it was meant more for the snobby noble who was not present. If Nero had not lost his temper, she would have just asked the Brass Blades of the Rose to take care of this problem once they located the goods.
No use dwelling on it now, the paladin reminded herself. If she was still with the Sultansworns, she would be arriving with her surcoat and authority to reclaim what was wrongfully taken. But without the rank and influence of the Order, she was just another armored fighter, even if she claimed to be a Free Paladin. Roen could not help but feel a bit powerless without the attachment to the Order, even if that power came with bindings of its own.
The paladin set those thoughts aside by the time she was close enough to see the aetheryte crystal of Black Brush station. Her pace quickened as she eyed the cloudy skies. It would be noon in another bell, perhaps the smuggler would arrive early.
Roen peeked over the large outcropping of rocks to get the layout of the place, even though she knew the mines well enough to dread coming here. There were too many memories to count, and none were in her favor. As she took in the details of the area--the number of people, the location of the buildings, and potential guards that stood out from the throng of miners--she hoped that today the mine would yield her a better fortune than it had before. If she and Nero were successful in retrieving the confiscated goods for the refugees, she would consider the day a success.
The paladin counted three Brass Blades in uniform outside the largest building that lay at the foot of the Nanawa Mines. There were a few boxes and crates placed outside the building, piled up against the side wall. She was not sure what she was looking for exactly in terms of the confiscated goods--how many boxes she was looking for, or even if they were in crates at all.
She watched as she one of the Brass Blades ambled over to the mines, disappearing into the dark maw of the cave. His pace was slow and he cared not for the miners that trudged by, it was clear he was interested in something else, within the depths of the mines.
Roen studied the rest of the area one last time before she withdrew, thankful that there were no signs of a wagon approaching, which could mean a buyer for the goods.
Her trek to Black Brush Station was made on quick feet, and the paladin was thankful for the storm clouds looming above. It was still warm and the looming rain only made the air thick and muggy, but at least she did not burn with the sun’s unrelenting glare. It was rare that the Thalanan skies were ever littered with clouds, and if then, only a scant herd of them; this day offered an unusual overcast. Roen was not sure if that boded well or ill.
Silly thoughts, she reminded herself. She never used to consider superstitious beliefs before she came to Eorzea. But here, people invoked their gods for the mysteries and the unforeseeable things. Perhaps their beliefs were starting to rub off on her. Whatever it was that brought the cooler temperatures this day, and perhaps even threatened rain, Roen was thankful.
The paladin had still come dressed for the hurried expedition. She wore a sleeveless vest made of light linen, as well as cotton breeches with comfortable leather boots. She had stowed her armor along with her shield at Black Brush Station, but scouting about dressed in full armor would have made her more than conspicuous. She was not sure what to expect in reclaiming these goods. A fight? A conversation? Just how did the smuggler expect to get them back? Was she to provide her sword in the effort?
Roen had already told Nero she was not willing to run any Blades through. Corrupt or not, they were still part of the law enforcement of Ul’dah. "Good luck," Broken Nose said to her this morning as he gave her the copy of the list. He had a dark grin on his face, though she suspected it was meant more for the snobby noble who was not present. If Nero had not lost his temper, she would have just asked the Brass Blades of the Rose to take care of this problem once they located the goods.
No use dwelling on it now, the paladin reminded herself. If she was still with the Sultansworns, she would be arriving with her surcoat and authority to reclaim what was wrongfully taken. But without the rank and influence of the Order, she was just another armored fighter, even if she claimed to be a Free Paladin. Roen could not help but feel a bit powerless without the attachment to the Order, even if that power came with bindings of its own.
The paladin set those thoughts aside by the time she was close enough to see the aetheryte crystal of Black Brush station. Her pace quickened as she eyed the cloudy skies. It would be noon in another bell, perhaps the smuggler would arrive early.
