A three innocent children have gone missing in the fields of La Noscea in the past seven suns, leaving not a single trace of them save for perhaps a broken toy or a scrap of colored cloth. No one knows where they have gone or where they might have been taken.
No one ever notices the lesser sheep waiting to be culled. They do not feel the prick of daggers against their skin -- the agony as flesh is hewn from bone.
This is Limsa Lominsa after all. Who would notice three missing people when there are oceans of plunder?
Who would notice the impoverished youth hoping to grow unto a rogue, the son of a poor shepherd lost while tending flock, and a lone girl fishing for clams in a city once born of pirates?
No one.
No one until it is far too late.
No one ever notices the lesser sheep waiting to be culled. They do not feel the prick of daggers against their skin -- the agony as flesh is hewn from bone.
This is Limsa Lominsa after all. Who would notice three missing people when there are oceans of plunder?
Who would notice the impoverished youth hoping to grow unto a rogue, the son of a poor shepherd lost while tending flock, and a lone girl fishing for clams in a city once born of pirates?
No one.
No one until it is far too late.